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I didn't dare to be late.I grabbed my purse and rushed outside, only to run right into Ann. She was smiling sweetly and I knew the second that I saw her that I was in for another humiliating bus ride.She was smiling. But she looked positively evil when she said, "Isn't it a beautiful day, dear? I thought you would enjoy another bus ride today."I looked at her aghast. I wanted desperately to plead for reason. I knew better though. I had already learned that the more we hated something the more it amused her and her husband. But aside from that, I had noticed that, although I still felt the desire to plead for reason when they made us do terrible things. I couldn't. I assume that was as a result of the drug they were forcing us to take.As I walked away she said, "It's a little breezy today. But don't let that worry you. You are not, under any circumstances, to adjust your skirt or attempt to restrain it in a breeze. Have a nice day, sweetheart."I was frozen to the spot for a second as. Jars, boxes, preserveslined shelves and stacked walls. The basement was a regular labyrinth ofdry goods. Enough food to feed a large family for months, or the ladyupstairs for at least a week. I laughed at my own joke but my giggle mademe nervous. It sounded childish and puny and didn't belong in the depths ofthis maze-like cellar. Like the kitchen, the ceiling seemed too high, andthe corners impossibly far away, shrouded in gloom.I picked up a small jar which was deceivingly heavy, what did they have inhere, molten lead?, then loaded my arms with a two ton bag of sugar. Thelast thing was a fifteen-pound bag of potatoes. Finding the last item Istopped to pick it up. Fifteen pounds? More like fifty. Seriously thething felt like it was filled with cement. Was I just weaker or waseverything down water-logged or something?I set down the sugar and jar and rolled up my sleeves. Much to mydiscomfiture, my arms seemed scrawny and thinner than I ever would haveimagined. No wonder the food was.
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