3.2

The kitchen door was locked. Ben looked around in despair. Had he counted wrong? No, he had always been confident with numbers, this was definitely the door Claudia had directed him to. But why was it locked?This house was strange. Ben already knew that much. The hallway seemed endless and each room seemed to hide a mystery all its own. But why were some doors open, while others were locked? Then a thought occurred to Ben.He leaned toward the door and whispered: "Open up."Nothing happened. But Ben wasn't ready to give up yet."Please, I'm terribly hungry."Again, nothing happened at first. Then there clicking sound could be heard. Quietly and barely perceptible. For Ben it was an unmistakable sign. Pleased, he opened the door.
The kitchen was smaller than expected. It consisted only of a small old-fashioned gas stove, a beat-up refrigerator, a few more wooden cabinets, and a round oak table with five surrounding chairs made of some other wood. Only one of them was occupied.Ron clicked his tongue. He sat in the chair farthest from the entrance, reading a newspaper."About time."Ben couldn't do anything with that statement. The concept of time had become something strange to him in this house. How do he and Claudia know what time it is? How can they tell how much time has passed?Questions upon questions. And with each answer, two more seemed to be added. Ben looked around. There were two plates on the table. One was already empty and stood with Ron, the other on the place opposite him. Ben sat down and hesitantly tasted. 
Surging hot lava. Surprised, Ben spat the far too hot food back onto the plate. Cursing, he reached for a glass of water. The boy looked at him with amusement."Didn't anyone teach you to wait for food to cool before you stuff it down?""No so I just expected it to..." Ben fell silent. Slowly he should get used to expecting nothing. Just because the food was already on the table when he came in didn't mean it wasn't hot anymore. He forced himself to wait a little. He took the opportunity to ask questions."What is this place?"Ron looked up from the paper."A house. I certainly hope you know what it is." He bent over his paper again. But Ben didn't let go."Of course I know it's a house. But why can it understand me?"Ron sighed. He folded up the paper and shoved it into his pocket. "Isn't it obvious? Because the house can think for itself."Ben frowned. He didn't think it was obvious at all. "But...""Look, I'm not here to talk to you and answer all your questions. I was just supposed to make sure you got here and ate something." Ron interrupted him gruffly. He rose and stalked out of the room.Great. More questions, Ben thought to himself, and leaned down to his meal.