The next day, they continued their journey. Although Naomi was grateful for the mother's wise words the previous night, she was undoubtedly wary of her.
"Victor," Samson called out to Naomi. It took a moment to realise the boy had been calling to her.
"Yes?"
"Can I tell you something?" He asked.
"Sure,"
"You promise not to tell my mama?"
To the request, she hesitated before nodding.
Samson moved closer and she lowered her head so that he could whisper whatever childish secrets he wanted to share.
"We are on the run." He dropped a bombshell. The normal human reaction to such words would have ranged from amusement at the boy's imagination to fear of whether he was being serious
"From who?" She whispered back.
"My father," he replied. "He is a bad man."
She raised my head and took a good look at the mother who sat opposite me. Only now did she start to notice some strange things.
They only packed one bag which proved that they had likely left in a hurry. Her face was patches that looked like healing bruises. She looked a bit skinny as though she had been starved.
She lowered her head to Samson. "Where are you going?"
"Farlen. I have an uncle there." He informed her.
Naomi wondered why the boy had told her but she found it sweet that he could confide in her. It made more sense how the mother had been able to read her pain in the previous night. She too had fallen for a monster it would seem. But she had been unfortunate enough to marry him and to bear his children.
She looked outside to see the familiar windmill, they were close. It was noon by now. She had run out of food and soon water but at least they were close.
Her eyes travelled to where the mother sat to see her staring straight at her. When our eyes met and even though she believed that I couldn't see, on her face was pity. But not the type that made you feel less than you are. It was genuine and made her feel at peace as though she would always look out for her. Like she had someone who could be a confidant.
Naomi still wasn't sure the woman knew what she was. After she had to talk to her, the mother silently went back to bed. This morning the mother pretended like it had never happened. Naomi had even started to doubt if it ever even happened.
The caravan came to a halt, Naomi picked up her walking stick and alighted from the caravan. Samson passed her bag to her. The family also alighted as well as another man.
"Where are you headed now? I might be able to help you get there." She offered.
"Don't worry I am conversant with the village." I told her.
She began to walk away from them and deeper into the village. She would still feel the mother's eyes on her. She did not even ask for her name but it was all for the best. It was better that she did not get too attached to the family. They were strangers after all.
Farlen was unlike Makarat and Karin. It was much larger and more developed. It had a multitude of infrastructures that were strange to Naomi. The villagers did not get their water from wells like she was used to. Instead they would turn the knob on something called a tap. It would miraculously pour water.
Their roads were not dusty and bumpy like those in other villages. They were tidy and levelled. The houses were bigger and arranged in a more orderly manner. Like they had taken their time to plan out that little detail. All these were so mainly because Farlen was the village closest to the royal castle.
The children wore attires that were bright and colourful and the women had an air of sophistication about them.
The village was expanding exponentially because of the opportunities it had to offer. Ambitious young people from smaller villagers would come to make something of themselves. Naomi herself had tried to do the same in the past but they seemed to have no use of her leather bags mostly because they were not posh looking enough. Hand sewn leather bags were for paupers to the people of Farlen.
It had surprised Naomi when Sharon had married a man from the town. It had been so out-of-blue that she had believed that her best friend had been playing a prank on her. Those types of pranks were never beyond Sharon.
She had been married almost two years now. She had only visited her once and that was because Farlen was far. But she knew where Sharon lived like the back of her hand. Luckily for her, the house on the outskirts of the village. If it had been deeper into the village, it would have been another problem getting transport. Soon she could see the house in the distance.
It was a moderately opulent house with a fence and a garden of white and pink lilies. Naomi smiled and made her way to the gate. The crime rate was not as high as other villages so the gates were unsurprisingly unlocked. She approached the front door and Naomi could already perceive the aroma of tomato stew.
She knocked, there was a shuffling inside and then the door opened. In front of her stood a tall woman. Her brown hair was done up in an elaborate style of braids and her eyes were covered by huge golden glasses which reflected the sun's rays through the glass.
The woman gave her a confused look. "Sir?"
She did not look like a housemaid, Naomi thought. Or maybe she was Sharon's sister-in-law. "I am here to see Sharon.
"Sharon? There is no such person here."
"What? but..." Naomi was interrupted by what sounded like a clatter of falling utensils in the kitchen.
"One minute," the woman excused before walking back into the house and closing the door.
Naomi was panicking by now. Had she been wrong? Maybe Sharon had moved away? If that were the case then there was no uses disturbing the woman so Naomi turned to leave then there was a scream. It was the woman's voice. Without a second thought, Naomi barged in. The spacious house was silent. Too silent. She stalked deeper into the house to investigate. Suddenly she is struck with a strange smell of incense and Naomi felt light-headed. It was a trap, Naomi realised but it was too late. Her eyelids were heavy and her knees began to buckle beneath her. She fought it but she was not match for incense. She fell and her body felt like stone, she tried crawling to safety but it was no use. The arms of darkness enraptured her.