~”What do you mean, you forgot to check the fires?” Charles bellowed at the man, as he slammed his glass onto the table by his chair. The glass spilled whiskey onto the table, where it pooled in the mark made in the leather. “That mistake nearly lost us this latest batch of product!” Charles was now older, with lines on his face from the years of managing the business. His father and brothers were killed in the war, so he was forced to grow up much faster than even he wanted. Plus, as the northerners came through, they took all of the whiskey barrels, and much of the crops. Rebuilding has been painstaking, and losing another year’s batch could close them permanently. He didn’t understand why they targeted his family. They made a practice of freeing every slave they had after the first two years, when they had paid off the cost of purchase. After that, he paid them good wages, even for a white person.
“Honest, sir, I thought I did,” the man said, holding his hat and nearly shaking in fear. “I always check the wood supply and bank the fires before I head out for dinner. I have never forgotten in all the years you have had me!” The fire tender knew that his boss had a reputation for a bad temper, only made worse with the business being in financial trouble. It was a well-known rumor that the distillery was facing closure if they could not turn the business around.
“You had better pray that we didn’t lose temperature too fast,” Charles growled.
“It won’t happen again, sir, I promise!” The tender still didn’t know how it happened. He knew that he set the fires before leaving. Someone must have gone in to tamper with the stills.
Charles walked over to his employee calmly, “You are very right mister. You won’t ever forget to set the fires again.” Suddenly, he grabbed the man’s hair from behind and started to pull him to the hearth where there was a roaring blaze to keep out the chill in the older man’s bones. “I will teach you a lesson about respecting fire!”…
June yanked her hand back from the table as if she were the one burned. What the fuck? she said to herself. This was getting creepy. She decided that this was not a room that she wanted to be in anymore. She turned to head to the dining room. The other couple had moved upstairs, by the sounds of footfalls above. Maybe there was something in the kitchen that she could use. She still had to get to the liquor store to get supplies for the weekend. She had heard that a storm was coming and wanted to be home safe before it hit.
The dining room was more impressive than the sitting room. There were candelabras, and cabinetry of ornate statues. On the table was set the most beautiful china she had ever seen. Settings for all ten seats, plus every serving dish and all the silver to go with it. A sign in the middle of the table read: Sold as a set ONLY– $1500
June stopped and read the sign again. $1500? That seemed low, even with her knowledge of plates being limited to what was on sale at Target. But she refrained from touching, it was so far out of her range that it was not worth getting depressed by seeing it up close. June continued through a nondescript white painted doorway into the kitchen.
Much simpler in decoration, the tables and appliances were industrial in design. She couldn’t tell, but they looked like they could be heated with wood or gas. But June never heard of that, so she chalked it up to the style. Cooking utensils hung from the ceiling, with copper pans along the wall where there weren’t floor-to-ceiling cupboards. June assumed that they used to hold the dry goods that they cooked with.
Sitting on top of the largest cooktop June had ever seen, were pots of all sizes. A few could hold all the pans she owned and still fit more. There was a smaller pot among the rest, large enough for her to make a batch of mash, uh, chicken soup in. Why was I thinking about mashed potatoes? She thought. She hated mashed potatoes.
The pot was about as big as two of her burners at home. Plenty large for soup. The fires would keep it hot enough as well…
She had an electric stove.
She took hold of the pot…
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