Around 8 in the morning, I woke up to Aunt Diana's hollering for me to come down for breakfast.
"I know you're exhausted," said Diana. "All that travelling and unpacking must be tiring. But I'm not going to let you sit around and become a sloth. You work starting tomorrow," she declared as she flipped one then two pancakes simultaneously.
Her hair neatly tied into a bun behind her. She wore a red and green checkered button up shirt over a plain white tee.
"I see," I said and thought the idea of keeping busy while I was here sounded inviting but one thing bothered me and I had to ask. "Umm, you won't ask me to milk the cows by any chance, would you? Because I'm not really sure how to do that."
"What?" Dave chortled from beside me. "No kiddo, you clean around the house or feed the chickens. Contrary to the popular belief, farming is not all about milking cows, ya know."
"Yes, leave the milking to us, honey," she chuckled, the side of her that reminded me of my mother. I felt a lump gathering in my throat and I struggled to swallow.
"In fact," she continued. "I have an errand for you. In the basement cellar you'll find some wheat ale. I put it separate for sampling. Deliver it to the address on that fridge and look around town while you're at it, it's not that big. You'll get used to the place in no time."
She put one pancake each on mine and Dave's plate then settled at her spot next to Dave.
"Alright," I said and got up, walking over to the fridge. "I'll do that."
She looked at my plate and fretted, "Now? What about breakfast?"
"What's the matter, kid? Not to your liking?" Dave jived as I pulled the address and shoved it in my pocket.
I made an effort to smile. "No, I'm just not a big fan of sweets," I lied. To be honest, everything here reminded me of my mother. I just wanted to get out of here and get some fresh air.
Dave chided, "Well, you can eat what you want but you ain't gonna survive long in a farm without your sugar."
"Is there anything else you'd like instead?" Diana offered.
I felt bad for refusing her breakfast so I added, "Eggs and toast would be nice."
"Good then, make it yourself from tomorrow on." she more than made up for the smile I lacked with her beaming grin. Dave snorted and I realised I was being told off.
"Ah... okay," was all I managed before I took my leave. I grabbed a hand bag from my room and the ale sample from the cellar, pulled on my light brown overcoat from the hanger next to the entrance then left.
The address was for an inn. I followed a short gravel pathway that was adorned with a beautiful assortment of colourful scented flowers. Looking at it as I walked, I felt that I could get used to this place.
As my destination neared, I realised that the inn was only ten minutes away from the farmhouse. I looked around and saw that it was the centre of many bustling places in this town which obviously meant a lot of traffic coming its way.
I wasn't a big fan of crowded places but I particularly feared social encounters that would beseech my privacy. It was a good that I came early on a work day because it meant less chances of any awkward confrontations on my behalf.
I walked inside and the bells jingled. The bartender behind the bar looked up with a welcoming smile. He looked to be in his mid-twenties with a fresh appearance and the vibrance of amiability that was probably contagious if given enough time.
His face had a faint morning shadow growing and his hair was a shaggy black that was ruffled into a clip at one side to keep it out of his brown eyes.
It looked like he was in the middle of cleaning, judging by the soggy dish cloth in his hand. No other employees were in sight. I guess I was too early. This is an inn, after all.
"Hey there, new girl," he said, pleasantly. I frowned and thought either news spreads fast around here or maybe Diana decided it would make me feel comfortable if the whole town knew who I was before I even introduced myself.
He scratched his temple awkwardly and said, "I can tell just by the look on your face and that get-up that you're not from around here. And we normally don't get many visitors in this town so...." he trailed off, answering the question that was, apparently, written on my face.
I glanced back outside, momentarily remembering the rose and lily path I took to the inn and said, "Why not? It seems like a very beautiful place to me."
He laughed, sounding pleased and looked at me with a blinding smile. "Well, it is," he agreed. "I'm happy. It seems now I have a comrade I can share all me secret scenic spots with."
I smiled to myself. "You must not have many friends."
"None that share my love for a pleasant view."
I quickly put a hand over my mouth. "Did I say that out loud?"
At that he laughed again and nodded. "Anyways, give this place some time and it'll grow on you. You'll be falling in love with all its hidden charms."
I found myself smiling at his enthusiasm and thought, "I hope so."
"Here." I handed him the sample ale. "A delivery."
"Oh." he took it and placed it in the compartment under the bar. "So, I take it that you're staying over at the Rosamunds then?"
"Yeah, I'm their niece."
"Really?" He widened his eyes briefly and blurted. "That's news to me."
He looked slightly surprised about this sudden revelation. As though Diana having a niece was the last thing he expected. But I wasn't sure why someone else's personal life would be surprising to anyone for that matter.
"Edvin Bolt," he said. "Welcome to the town."
"Chloe Campbell." I shook his outstretched hand then he left me as he walked over to a group of barrels place next to a staircase leading to the floor above.
"So," he said, muscles flexed as he heaved one of the barrels like it was weightless and carried it to the cellar similar to the one at the farmhouse. "You must be bored out of your wits here. Probably missing that city charm. And of course, your friends."
"Not really," I replied absently, observing the inn. It was a nice old fashioned inn warmed by a lit fireplace at its core. The wooden walls were decorated with centuries old paintings that would sell for a fortune at an antique store. Some potted plants here and there for the green effect and cowboy music in the background which gratingly mismatched the original ambiance of the place.
But it was an ideal place if you wanted to wake up to the mountains and get a breath of fresh country air. I silently nodded in approval. A good place for a good morning.
"Right. Then again you don't look the type either." he said, emerging from the cellar then tilted his head and rubbed his chin. "More like, a bit gloomy."
I was offended. I tied my red hair in a tight ponytail and wore bright happy colours that probably screamed cheerful. I'm sure, a gloomy person wouldn't wear something that makes her shine like a neon sign in the midst of darkness. I thought I managed the "bright and happy, city girl" look quite well.
....Not so much, apparently.
He saw the look on my face and quickly fixed, "Of course, I'm not saying gloomy people are friendless." —I was still offended because I was more unhappy about being called gloomy than being called friendless. But he didn't seem to have caught on to that yet— "I'm sure you're friends must miss you."
I was about to say "not really" again but held my tongue this time. After all, those friends were friends in name only. They were not sincere. I never once heard from them when family tragedy struck and when I was failing my semester and decided to take a leave of absence. But I can't blame them.
The reason for my shallow bonds was because of my fear of falling in too deep. I never let them come too close. Never let them see the depth of my heart. Never got too personal. In short, I had serious trust issues. So I always drew the line in my interactions because I was afraid of someone glimpsing what lied buried beneath all the shallow smiles, and abandoning me afterwards.
I shook my head, "I'm not normally this depressing," I countered with a smile although it came out more flimsy than I had hoped. I guess I was the goth girl in this sunny town of Rosedale. Or that's just my personality, apparently.
"Well, if it helps, I can show you a few places around here that'll make you feel like you never want to go back again."
I want to go back.
"They're pretty surreal. You'll feel like you're in a world straight out of a fairytale. Let's have some coffee and I'll tell you all about it," he offered. "I'll be free once I'm done moving these barrels."
I want to go back home. I swallowed the lump rising in my throat.
"Thanks but I should really get going."
He looked genuinely dejected that I almost felt bad for refusing. "Well, you're missing out. I'm the best barista around here," he said in a lighthearted manner, sensing the change in my mood.
"Some other time maybe," I said as I made my way back to the entrance.
He stopped me before I could step outside, asking, "And how long will you be staying?"
I didn't hesitate before answering, "A long while, I guess."
~~~~
I decided to take the long way back, avoiding the populated areas of the town. I took a route somewhere through the woods and followed an indistinct path on the ground in the direction of the farm.
Basically, I was on a search for some place quiet where I could be myself without having to put up a pretence.
Some place like- "Ah!" I exclaimed.
I was wandering not far to the north of the inn and was able to spot a small clearing in the woods with a sweet scent of honeysuckle surrounding it. It was decorated with lilies and chrysanthemum and somewhere in the distance I could hear the soft whisper of running water.
Being the city-girl most of my life, I had yet to experience something with this level of tranquility. This is certainly what one would call, "hitting the Jackpot." It was pure luck that I had come across this place without getting myself lost.
I found a cozy spot under a short stumped oak and sat down cross legged. Pulling out my mp3 and earphones along with a pencil and sketchbook, I played my favorite playlist to set the mood then began pouring my heart out on the piece of paper in front of me.
This was me.
I closed my eyes and let the gentle breeze brush my face. Then I let myself dream, a world where my life wasn't so tragic and I wasn't this pitiful. When I was lost in my fantasies, without the world bothering me, I was myself. Then my imagination took over and I began to draw.
I drew the chrysanthemum and the lilies, did my best to capture the light cast across the field through the dark canopies lying above as though they were rays of hope and drew a small family having a picnic under the shade of an oak.
A woman in a white gown and a sun-hat lounging next to her husband and a girl who looked about my age but without a face. I left that part up to my imagination. Maybe someday when my emotions are less murky, I might finish it.
~~~~
Without realising my time started moving and when I came to, it was already dark. I looked up and saw stars beginning to show up across the red sky. I pulled out my earphones and stuffed it, with the rest of my stuff, back inside the bag.
I was about to get up and leave when I heard something chime somewhere in the distance. It was inconspicuous at first but then I heard it again. It sounded like a female voice but otherworldly altogether. Curiosity got the best of me and I slung my bag over my shoulder and moved across the clearing towards the sound.
The more closer I got, the sound of running water grew louder and my heart beat along with it. Soon, I was able to hear another voice talking back to the indecipherable sound. This one had a more masculine tone, although his words were disguised, they were distinct and clear.
Once I was close enough, I observed that the sound of running water was actually the sound of a water cascading down stony ridges, ending in small rivulets that drained into a large pond next to the shore. It was very large indeed, you could fit two cruise ships in there and still have room to spare.
The pond was a clear blue and saturated with water lilies at the margins and a murky green around the centre.
The scene was without a doubt the most beautiful thing I had ever seen in my life and somewhere near the waterfall on a large stone I saw a man.
Long black hair, angular features and butt-naked. Yes, he was completely unclothed and I was shameless enough to continue ogling because believe me when I say this, what I was seeing was not just a naked man but a painting.
Since I had no paint supplies with me at the moment, I felt the sudden urge to grab my sketchbook from my bag and start capturing this moment as best as I could.
His form reflected under the twilight of setting sun, his skin glistening with wetness and a posture that was pure elegance. It was like the entire background was complimenting his beauty. Light flickered all around as fireflies began to come out of their hidings giving the scene a picturesque feel.
Somewhere around me the foliage rustled under the wind and I caught stray strands of my hair and pulled them behind my ear. When I looked up the man had disappeared and a bunch of fireflies traced a path towards me, encircling me. I backed up a little, clutching my coat and stumbled over a stump, falling on my butt.
"Ouch," I rubbed my back as I pushed myself back up again and almost squealed at the sight in front of me. The man was now stepping out of the pond and towards me. The fireflies scattered, leaving the place dark in their sudden absence.
His state of undress was distracting but more than that was everything else. Now that the sun had already set and it was dark enough for the moon to shed it's shine, I saw the lake glow different shades and shadows fluttered beneath the water. Both big and small, trying to get out then back inside. Their shapes oddly resembling humans but not quite. He took another step and the water splashed, rocking the lilies back and forth.
"Who...." Slowly he stepped on dry land, more closer in my direction, "....are you?" he inquired and I just looked at him dumbfounded.
How was I supposed to answer that? He was completely nude, bathing in a secluded spot and had hair longer than mine. Indeed, it is beautiful here, even I would want to strip naked and dive. But if I were him, I would at least cover my privates if a stranger walked by.
After a long pause, I decided to turn back and retreat to where I came from. He was obviously suspicious. Best not to associate with such people, no matter, how badly I want them to model for me. He made no move to stop me and I sighed in relief. I guess, I'm safe.
I looked over my shoulder at his form, his eyes carefully watching my every move and almost cringed at the regret I felt in leaving a beautiful sketch behind.
I took a deep breath and turned around and gave him the full extent of my stare. His eyes grew wide but he remained rooted as I imprinted every muscle on his body to my brain. It's crazy how flawless he was. Must be some really good genes.
I needed to retain his image in my head until I get to my painting supplies.
Me staring down a nude man was weird, but what's even weirder was that he didn't once flinch under my scrutinising stare. He just stood there and looked at me and as our eyes met, his enchanting emerald eyes affixed me as though he could see right through me.
I blinked once then twice before turning back around muttering "—Cover yourself," as I took my leave. And again he made no effort to follow.
Well that was interesting, I thought to myself.
However, strangely enough, as I left, I still felt like I was being watched but with more pair of eyes than one, now.
***********