Chapter eight.
Zack's POV.
Exhaling at the entrance to my room, I am able to open the door finally, and waltz in. Moving around this small town isn't so simple after all, so I pull out a short blue trouser, and pair of V-neck shirt.
Stepping beneath the shower, I let the warm water cascade down my body, settling my nerves and immature thoughts. Once done, I get out in the new outfit.
I feel so refreshed, and so much at home. My hair is now extra-floppy due to the wetness, the top area stream down my forehead, meeting with my brows.
At the living area, I sight Mr. West, and walk over to him. He turns on noticing, then smiles. "it's you. I asked James about you, but he says he doesn't know. Anything went wrong?" His british accent is such a darling.
I frown, "no, nothing. I got my laptop and suitcase back due to James' help. We are fine." And do I really have to add we?
I shake my head, letting some drop of water sprikle down. "I hope so."
I want to leave to find James, but noticing he's about to carry a can of fertilizer, I'm hurried to take it from his hands. He chuckles, as he point at me.
"You, boy. You're blessing." He state, and move in a path, which I follow him, behind. I wish my family can see me as a blessing as well, especially father, but then, who cares? He lives his life, and I live mine. It hurts, but I have no choice. I tried my best to make us work after me, coming out, it didn't go as planned. It won't work, never. He sees me as one who tarnishes his name.
I thought he was the foreign man, but no, I was wrong. He's just like the rest of those old men with old brains. Pardon my language, the pain made me think that way.
We emerge into a green house. "There's a greenhouse here?" I exclaim. Of course, there is. What am I seeing if not a typical greenhouse. I am surprised. Maybe fate doesn't suck after all.
"Yes." Mr. West is laughing when he answers. Though the greenhouse is small. One of the things why I love greenhouse is because of the warmth. The lukewarmness that seeps into your skin, reliving you in a sense.
The flowers aren't that much that have grown. I see
Once I'm done exploring, I put down the fertilizer. Mr. West takes it from me, and begins applying it to the soil.
"Do you know where James is, sir?"
The lines at the bridge of his brows becomes more evident when he frowns, "he should be in the cowshed, giving them their medicine."
"And where's that?"
"Inside the barn."
"Oh, okay." With that, I nod at him and leave.
Back outside, the radiation of the sun heavy that my vision squints, I see the barn and run to it, passing by the heat.
The inside isn't much of a difference. The woods at the roof needs replacement as some of them is ruined, and broken.
The sound of cows calls my attention, seeing James, I go near him. He doesn't notice me, as he's concentrated on his doings.
"Were they sick?"
He isn't shocked, as I thought he would with me, behind him and talking all of the sudden. "Nah, they just weren't milking much."
"So, that's some sort of lactating medicine?" He nods, and chuckle sharply. "I guess that's one way to put it."
I guess so too.
"About earlier question..." Which of the earlier question, please? "I had a problem with my family, my dad actually. I had no other choice than to come here. I used to live in the city, and trust me when I say that it's fun, as much as being here. It all just depends on our definition of "fun."" There's emphasy at his pronunciation of fun. Him, telling me a bit of his past life makes me feel more proud of myself, and that I'm important to him somehow. No one just talks about their painful past life anyhow. And the fact that we share same family issue without though the circumstances are different is cool.
"You know..." I pause and continue. "I have issue with my dad too." But I don't have to tell him what issue. He didn't tell me his. "it's one of the reason why I'm moving from New York."
"Oh, figured." He state beneath his breathing.
"Can I do something?" I ask, and dart my eyes to his hands where he has the needle in his hands, injecting the cows so they can lactate.
"What?"
"I want to try that..." I drawl off, motioning his hands, urging him to pass me the needle.
He laughs, "like you know how to inject them the right way."
Ouch, I used to cater for four-legged domestic animals, including cows. "I used to breed them actually."
His eyes pop, and reluctantly, he passes me the needle.
Chapter nine.
I stare at the white bandage around my wrist, wrapped up to my forearm. I can still feel the sharp whenever I move my wrist, but it isn't as bad as before.
James helped me with bandaging. He seems to be good at it.
"Hey," he says, cooing as he walks inside the room. The door was open when he left minutes ago to help me go and bring tea. He's mentioned my injury to his Uncle, so Mr. West offered to make me some healing tea.
He drops the tray, and helps me pick up the teacup. Handling it over to me, I take it with my healthy hand, and sip.
"Hmm." I hum. "It isn't bad," as I have thought it will be. I complete the rest inside my head. I was wary before, but it turns out really good.
"Anything tea-related, Uncle is perfect for it." He accolades, and I smile.
I look down to my wrist, "I learnt my lesson."
"Yeah, I'm grateful." He breaths out, as he plop into the arm chair at the side of my room. It wasn't there yesterday, just today. I guess because I mentioned myself being a writer, these lovely two made me a space for writing. I would have thanked them a million times again, but they've decided against it. Then, he feels the need to quickly reprimand himself. "No, it's not like that, I mean, you learnt your lesson. You should left the farming work for the cowboy."
"Yup, I should have. I thought I could do it." Right after then, something dings in my brain. "Why would she chase after me?"
"She just gave birth, she can't be gentle."
"Or she just doesn't know me... thought I was some kind of kidnapper to her young ones."
"Hmm," he contemplates on it. "Maybe." And then, he laughs for a reason. I don't let it offend me.
"I'll leave you alone now, you should rest." As he says, he takes a stand, grab the teacup from me, which still contains half the content, and carry the tray too.
I don't say anything, but watch him. Getting to the door, he stops and turns. "What will you be doing tomorrow?"
I haven't thought much into it. "Maybe—I might do some reading at the library, or write if my hands doesn't pain too much."
He squint his eyes. "I will be at the farm all day tomorrow, so I might not be available. Just keep yourself company, and please steer clear of big animals."
I smile. "Yes, sir." It is a tease, and I think he knows, because he is chuckling lowly.
As he wants to close the door, he uses his free hand to take off his cowboy hat, and bow lightly, giving me a clear sight of his head. I like the coils of his hair, dyed brown at the fair top. I think it's flat top, fitting on his head so handsome-ly. I do like the view. And for a reason, I want to touch his hair, and feel if it's as soft on hands, as it was at sight.
I exhale deeply, letting the air blow out. I reassemble the pillows, and lie down carefully — something I don't usually do. I would have just fall into the bed like that.
With my eyes closed, I let my imagination play, and sooner, I drift off into slumber.