desideratum
noun, plural de·sid·er·a·ta [dih-sid-uh-rey-tuh, -rah-, -zid-].
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The two boys looked around, confused at their new whereabouts. They were in a large room with dull grey walls, floor and ceiling. The only piece of furniture was a single wooden table with a covered tray on it. Behind the table was a figure that could have been a man.
“Greetings, boys.” The figure said. His voice was hollow, and had an almost echoing quality to it. It was like hearing someone at the bottom of a deep ravine while standing at the top.
“Who are you?” Asked one of the boys. He was a plump fellow, and very well dressed. “How did I get here, and what do you want with me? Do you have any idea who my father is? If you hurt me, he’ll have your head on a spike.”
“Yes, charming. I do know who your father is, Jeremy Wilcox. I know quite well.” The man said, unperturbed by Jeremy’s outburst. “But I am more concerned with who you are. Or rather, who you could be.”
Jeremy crossed his arms and huffed. He had more important things to do that listen to this obviously insane person.
“Um, excuse me…” said the other boy. He was painfully skinny, dirty, and dressed in third hand clothes. “I don’t know where this is, but can you let us go? I have to help mom.”
“Perhaps. That depends on you, Thomas.”
“Why?”
“If you both will step forward, I have here something of interest to both of you.”
The man uncovered the top of the tray, revealing a lavish meal, consisting of a whole chicken, warm bread, freshly cooked greens, and mashed potatoes. Jeremy smiled at the fare. He was used to this kind of meal, and now that food was involved, he was much more willing to listen. Thomas was unsure what to think of it. He would love to eat, but he had never seen such rich food before, and so had no idea how to react.
“Now then, both of you will tell me why I should give this meal to you, and once I hear your answer, I will decide what to do with both of you.”
Jeremy smirked. “You should give it to me because I want it.”
“That is all?”
“What other reason do you need? I get everything I want, no questions asked. And that means, since I want that meal, you should give it to me.” The wealthy boy patted his stomach. Sure, he had already eaten a good meal, but he could always do with something tasty.
Thomas’ stomach growled at the smell of the food. Had he eaten today? He could not remember. He took a longing look at the chicken and sighed. “I don’t know.” He said. “I don’t know why you should give it to me. I mean, I guess because I’m hungry? But just the bread will be okay for that. I’ll make do with something else later. You can give the rest to him, I guess.”
“You see? Even the poor boy knows you should give it to me.” Jeremy said triumphantly. “It’s good to know that someone knows his place in the world.”
The man looked from one boy to the other. Silence filled the room for almost a minute before he spoke. “I have decided. Jeremy, you will go back to your home, and forget all of this.”
“Wait, but what about the food?”
“You will not get any. Goodbye. We will not meet again.”
And with that, Jeremy disappeared. Thomas looked at the place the other boy had been with wide, confused eyes.
“As for you, Thomas, we have much to talk about. While we talk, you may eat.” The man said, producing a fork and knife for Thomas to use.
“Are…are you sure? I mean, I don’t know if I can accept something like this.”
“I am positive. Enjoy your meal and listen. You have a very interesting life ahead of you, child. Very interesting indeed.”
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Ah, food. The ultimate in both want and need. We need it to live, but we also want it to be good, even if the flavor isn't really the important part. And maybe we just want more than we need. Well, okay, no "maybe" about it, is there? Especially here in the US.
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