6. The Amazing Freezer

I watched Amadeus walk inside with the sodas, his sandals clacking against the cement of the garage floor. Only now did I see how completely out of place he was, with his ancient Roman attire and shoulder-length, greasy hair. That, in combination with his totally modern surroundings made for a funny picture.

When he stepped indoors and out of view I turned my attention back to the groceries still in the trunk, vaguely aware of Geneene complaining to the great big world inside.

"So Ma," I said, carrying the last bag of cereal from the garage and into the kitchen, "What, uh... What should we do about this guy?" I inclined my head toward Macho Man, who stood in front of the open refrigerator, sticking his hand in and out of the freezer with a wide-eyed look of amazement on his face.

Geneene sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose and shutting the freezer door, Amadeus turning to face her with an indignant pout. "Jazz, I will never understand why you teenagers do what you do, and I wont try to, either, but this is getting ridiculous. Send your friend home, and get your landscaping class to fix up the gaping hole in our lawn."

"No, Ma, you don't understand." I put the bag down on the counter and withdrew  the two boxes. "I have no idea how any of this happened. I don't know this guy here, I only met him about an hour ago. He was here when I got home from school. So I found him here, and that in the backyard... I'm kind of not sure of what to do. Like, which do I deal with first? And how?"

She was shaking her head the entire time. I doubted she was even listening, and that really pissed me off. It was weird, though. I was usually the most laid-back person you'd ever meet; I never got angry over anything. But this just really got to me.

"Jazz," she began, still shaking her head in a self-pitying sort of way; a way that said, "I'm too self-engrossed in my own problems to deal with this bull."

At this point I slammed the boxes back down on the counter, cutting her off before she could continue. "No!" I realized that word didn't really make any sense in the conversation, but I went on anyway. "Listen to me! I'm not even asking you to get over yourself for once; the least you can do - the least - is believe me! Have I ever lied like this before? Made up some big, unbelievable story? No! So why would I now!"

This caught her off guard. Made sense. I had her eyebrows up and everything. This was pretty satisfying.

When I looked over and noticed Mr. 300 excusing himself from the room and walking toward the garage, I called to him. "Wait, wait! Amadeus!" I turned to Geneene and explained. "He can't leave. Not like this, he can't. He's a little bit clueless, doesn't speak a word of English, and, well, he kinda sticks out." My head was sorta reeling still, from my little fulmination. Was this what adrenaline felt like?

The Roman looked up at the sound of his name. When I beckoned him back into the kitchen, he hesitated, bit his lip, and then stepped to my side, mumbling something.

Geneene sighed again, leaning backwards against the counter across the room and staring me down through her thick mascara-ed eyelashes. "Please don't say you're trying to tell me we have a real-live Spartan with us."

"I'm not," I snapped, snatching the grocery bag from the counter, "I mean, it's not looking totally impossible at the moment, but that's a different story. Either way, this is obviously a lost guy we have here." I stashed the bag in a nearby cabinet. We would find some special use for it later.

My adoptive mother frowned, turning her gaze from me, to Amadeus, and back to me again. "What about the backyard?"

I grimaced. "No idea. Let's, uh...handle one thing at a time?"

Geneene was about to say something, but then both of our heads turned to the sound of a loudly roaring stomach.

The Roman prince had his arms wrapped around his abdomen and his head bowed, his thick, curly black hair shielding his face. "Non comedi triduo."

I wasn't sure what he said, but I heard "comedy" in there. I highly doubted he was talking about anything funny, though. Anyways, I was pretty sure there was a "three" in there, too.

He looked up at me and said something else, voice stronger, but I couldn't understand a thing of it. I guess my blank face conveyed just how confused I was, so he went on to exaggeratedly lift his fist level to his chin and mime eating a drumstick. 

Now I got it, a small clip of a memory from Spanish class popping to mind. Spanish had Latin roots, and the Spanish "comer" meant "to eat." So I was right when I said Amadeus' "comedi" didn't mean anything funny. "Uh...Wow," I said. "Ma, I think he just said he hasn't eaten in three days."

"Okay, okay, so feed the boy! I'll get on the phone to a landscape professional and see what they can do about the hole. Who knows! Maybe they can make it into a pool for us!" Geneene picked up the phone from the counter and walked out to the other room, leaving Macho Man and me alone with one another once more.

It was silent for a moment as we stared at each other, unmoving. His eyes were very, very brown. Like chocolate. Or s**t.

"So, uh, what do you want to eat?"

"Ego esurio."

"Right. Stupid question. What was I expecting you to say? 'Macaroni and cheese?'" I crossed back to the pantry and stared inside for a second or two. "...That's the only thing I know how to make, so I guess you'd eat it either way. I hope it doesn't shock your digestive system and cause you to crap all over the house." I ducked down to the lower shelf and tilted my head in wonder. "Did they have any sort of bathroom back then? I know they didn't have porcelain toilets like we do now, but did they make their own special place to take care of business at least?" I remained ducking and thinking for a second or two, but then shrugged, pulled out the new case of macaroni and cheese, and stood up.

"I talk a lot," I noted, "when I know you can't understand a word of what I'm saying, and that you wont say anything back. There's something about silence that unnerves me." This said, I heaved the 8-boxed crate onto the counter, ripped open the aggravating plastic covering, and took out a little box. Ah, I could see its entrails already: its little bag of processed, shredded cheddar cheese and its two and a half servings-worth of elbow noodles. I wish I could say the thought of this made me salivate, but it didn't. It just made me wish I knew how to make something else.

"I hope you'll like this," I murmured, "or that you'll at least stomach it and trust that I'm not trying to poison you." It seemed likely he would just make a disgusted face at his food by the time I was done making it, and refuse to even touch it. 

With a frown, I put the rest of the crate away, took out a pot from one of the cabinets, and boiled some water. Amadeus watched in silence the entire time, gasping when I turned on the stove and the blue flames popped up. I couldn't help a sly grin. "Pretty cool, huh?"

"Est caerulea... Magicae."

"Totally," I agreed, assuming he said something like, "Dude, that's amazing! And magical!"

He chuckled, shaking his head slowly and mumbling.

My smile somewhat widened. "So... what to do with you in the meantime..." Turning my gaze on the boiled-water-to-be with a thoughtful frown on my face, I heard the sound of a door open beside me. There stood Macho Man, sticking his hand in and out of the freezer again.