They aren’t for me and never were. Evidently a certain somebody has been making herself useful in the kitchen. The only problem is, I’m pretty sure I can’t trust her. Not after all that’s happened. I guess it’s possible she’s also a captive of some kind but if she is, I’d wager she’s got much better digs than I do. After lunch today, I took the fresh mushroom garnish and spread it around the vents. You know how in movies there always seems to be human-sized air vents just begging to be used by an escapee? No such luck here. These vents are along the wall on the floor and the ceiling, about a half inch wide and not fashioned for a decent escape attempt. Doesn’t mean something can’t get in through them, just that I can’t get out. We’ll see if it works. Then maybe I can figure out what she’s really up to. Besides, I have nothing better to do. * * * It took the entire evening to explain to Iza exactly what I needed from her, a maddening procedure not unlike trying to deliver shoe-tying instructions to a retarded child who’s never seen a shoelace.
