“When you’re done there dear, just toss that extra food on the floor and stack your dirty plate on the rack by the shoes.”
Howard just stared back at her.
She smiled and nodded gently, leaning forward, expecting some sort of response. Preferably a confirmation.
“The food…goes on…” Howard just stoped.
“On the floor, Dear. For The Horde.” She smiled her sweet, sincere, Aunt Carol smile.
Howard continued staring in confusion, “Horde…?”
“Yes, dear. The Horde. That’s what I said.” She gently wiped her lips with a cloth napkin.
“Don’t listen to that old witch,” Uncle Edward chimed in. “It’s just like having a dog, only cleaner, if I’m honest,” he chuckled. “It’s just a couple million ants that come out at night and eat the leftovers. We keep them fed, they keep our floor clean. I don’t know why people insist on calling it ‘The Horde’.”
After a short pause, Aunt Carol gently laid her hand on Howard’s arm while side-eyeing Edward. “They’ve only taken a few people in town, and only when they haven’t been fed. We’ll let you sleep on the top bunk in Tommy’s old room if you’d like.”
“And the plates?” Howard looks questioningly at the low wooden rack next to the shoes.
“Same as the floor, of course.” Edward explained helpfully.
There’s an awkward pause at the table. No wonder his mother never wanted to visit her sister.
“And then you wash the plates?”
“Oh, deary no!” Aunt Carol chimed happily. “There’s no need to wash them after The Horde is done. The plates, bowls, silverware, cups; they are all clean enough to eat off!”
“Eat…” Howard could feel the bile in the back of his throat. There’s a sensation of something crawling on his foot.
Aunt Carol smiled, nodding gently as she picks up her soup bowl, tilted it to her mouth and slurped out the last few drops of soup.
“Eat up, Deary.” She licked a drop of soup from the corner of her mouth. “I made a special dessert for your visit.”