This is the real chapter eight, guys. Thanks for understanding.
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.