Chapter 4

"Get out."
I ignored this,of course, and began sweeping the floor."Get out," he said again,his voice growing menacing. I looked up at him, smiled and carried on with my work. He looked at me derisively and locked himself up in his bathroom. And he stayed there till I left. When I did, he slammed his door shut.
That was Bill, and little did I know that he was glad to see me.

The next day, he was standing at the door; his massive arms barring my way. "The room is clean," he said, "You are not needed." I looked inside and, indeed, the room was clean. I turned away, and began walking down the stairs.

"Come back in."

I turned around and looked at him. He looked like a stubborn child, who knew it but wouldn't admit he was wrong. He asked me, very grudgingly, to sit down. It was quite funny, actually, the way he was behaving. I began laughing, and this seemed to offend him. He got up, took a step forward - as if he were going to hit me - and then, suddenly,stopped. " Get out. Get out of here," he screamed. As I walked out, I heard him fuming. He didn't eat his dinner that day.

I never met him the next day. When I came to clean his room, I found that he had locked himself in the bathroom. He seemed to hate me and, for some unknown reason, was not eating as well. But I met him the day after that - the day he broke my arm.