Hey, guys! I'm back with chapter 14! Finally, huh?
A few things about this chapter. It's told from Dewey's perspective. I know it might be annoying how I'm jumping p.o.v's, but I think that's the only way to know what's going on in the story...plus, I suck at third person.
Second, in order to really understand this chapter, it's important to know Ivory's story. I'll give you a brief synopsis:
Once upon a time, Ivory lived with her despicable aunt and uncle. When Ivory turned sixteen, her uncle was going to make her marry a not-so-good-looking, (I refuse to say ugly), old and smelly farmer. If she married the farmer, Ivory's uncle would have gotten half of the farm. But Ivory had another idea in mind. She took her valiant steed and ran away before her uncle could force her into anything.
That's basically it.
Re-cap: Dewey left Shelton because he defended Ivory, who was assaulted by Brutus and his men when she couldn't tell them about Clover's whereabouts. Dewey's heading to Mamma's Inn, and then he's going to Benjamin. But right now, he's on his way to a ranch so that he can stock up on provisions and get a full night's sleep.
Thanks to the lovely Anna, the beautiful Livinginfantasy, the drop-dead gorgeous Meadow, and the breathtaking Zan. You guys are awesome. *gives you a toast* Cheers!
Chapter 14 – New Allies
Inspirational Song: Life is a Highway by Rascal Flatts
Dewey
(a few hours after speaking to Prince Alejandro)
It was around midnight when I finally arrived at the ranch. After a few hours of running through the woods, I darted out of the trees and found myself at the farm. The open field was scattered with sheep, cows and the like, a few barn houses here and there. A single house stood right underneath the lopsided moon hanging high up in the night sky.
I must admit, it was an eerie sight. The place was too secluded, too quiet. Though Shelton was a modest town, at least it had some life. I wouldn’t have been surprised if this place had once been a graveyard. Vague images of zombies coming to life and popping out of the ground came to mind.
I shuddered, shook the thought away, and proceeded towards the farmhouse. This was probably my only opportunity to get some food and sleep before heading out on my journey. Couldn’t let my superstitions get in the way.
I used what energy I had left from running in the woods to rush down the hill leading to the farm. I trudged down the path and walked up to the wooden gate, jumped it, and headed up to the house.
I’d come across this farm once when I’d journeyed from Benjamin to Shelton, but I never set foot on it, nor did I ever meet the farmer. I could only hope that he was generous enough to lend me a bed to sleep in for the night.
I quietly walked up the front steps, tiptoed across the porch and knocked on the door, praying that the farmer wouldn’t show up with a pitchfork in hand.
A few silent moments passed, and then I saw a dim light coming through one of the windows. I looked through it and saw a shadow of a man descending down the stairs, holding a lantern.
I backed away from the window as he approached the door. Locks clicked from the other side and the door opened, revealing the farmer, illuminated by the dull light of the lantern. He stood about a foot higher than me - which wasn’t unusual because I was pretty short for a man – and wore a long flannel one piece. Thankfully, he didn’t have a pitchfork. He wore a slightly confused expression on his face, his mouth hanging open, revealing crooked yellow teeth with too much space in between them. He was nearly bald, and it didn’t seem like he cared much about hygiene, judging by his smell. Ugh. But his eyes, though wide set and out of balance, were a unique shade of turquoise and held generosity and kindness in their depths.
The farmer held the lantern up and examined me up and down. Though puzzled by my disheveled appearance, he politely asked, “Can I help you, sir?” He spoke with a heavy southern accent and his voice had a droning quality to it.
“Er – yes,” I replied. “My name’s Dewey and I’m traveling to a kingdom far away from here. I was hoping you would be so kind as to give me a place to stay for the night.”
He inspected me again, suspiciously, then held the lantern up higher and looked over my shoulder.
“You seen any cow-tippers out here?” he asked casually, as if it wasn’t a strange question at all.
“Um, no.”
He pursed his lips, and then lowered the lantern. “Alright, come on in.” He turned and walked back into the house. I followed him, making sure to dry my mucky feet on the mat. Didn’t want get his carpets dirty.
Turns out, it wouldn’t have really made a difference because there were no carpets or rugs inside. My feet thudded on the hard, wood paneled floor as I trailed after the farmer, the lantern guiding us through the dark hallways. It was really roomy inside. Cold, too. I wondered if he lived by himself. If he did, it must have been strenuous work to run a farm all on his own.
“You hungry, there, Dewey?” he asked, not turning around.
“Yeah, actually I am…er, sorry I didn’t get your name.”
“Igor.”
“Igor,” I repeated. “Thanks for letting me stay here.”
“It’s no trouble,” he said courteously.
Igor led us down the corridor and into the kitchen. He lit a couple more lanterns around the room and placed the one in his hand on the only table.
“Have a seat,” he said, walking over to the cupboards.
“Thanks,” I said, pulled out a chair and sat down. I rubbed my hands together and held them over the lantern in an effort to stay warm.
“You live here alone, Igor?” I asked, hoping the question didn’t sound suspicious.
“Yep,” he said simply, still rummaging through the cabinets, his back to me.
“Must be hard, running this farm by yourself, huh?”
“I manage okay on my own,” he replied. His head disappeared in the depths of a cupboard.
His vague responses put me a little on edge. It didn’t seem like he got much human interaction. Nobody lived here with him, and I doubt anyone’s ever come by very often. Maybe he’d been isolated from people for so long that...my God, what if he was madman? Dewey, you idiot! I thought to myself, regretting not following my instincts earlier. How could I be so foolish? This man could be a psychopath! He could even be a cann-
“So, Dewey,” the farmer interrupted my panic stricken thoughts. He pulled out of the cupboard and walked back over to the table where I sat nervously, placed a loaf of bread and a few slices of cheese on a plate in front of me. “What exactly are you running from?”
“Er – I’m sorry?” I wondered, caught off guard by the question.
He was now searching through the upper cabinets above the rusty sink. “Usually, when people come by this ranch in the middle of the night, asking for a place to stay, it’s because they’re running from something.”
So there had been other people here before me. That eased the worry that he was a crazy farmer a bit.
“Uh, that’s a long story,” I mumbled.
“What’d you do, bud?” he persisted, pulling out a steel cup and filling it up with water from the rusty sink. “Break the law?”
“It’s not really like that.”
He placed the cup in front of me. “Alright, it’s your business.” He walked over to the window next to the cabinets and looked out at the glowing moon. His eyes were very far away.
“When you’re done eating, there’s a spare room up the stairs and to the left.”
“Thanks, Igor.”
“Yep,” he murmured. He stepped away from the window and grabbed a lantern, headed up the stairs. “You need anything, just say the word.”
“Sure thing. ‘Night.”
“’Night,” he returned, not looking back. The light of the lantern disappeared as he ascended.
Well, maybe he wasn’t a crazy farmer, but definitely a strange one. I wondered if all farmers were like this.
When I was through eating, I courteously washed my plate and cup, then walked up the stairs and went to the room he told me to go to. It was big and roomy, just like the rest of the house. It had a bed and a dresser, but that was it. No carpet, no curtains on the window, nothing. I felt guilty about my earlier suspicions of Igor being a psychopath. No doubt he was very lonely on this farm.
I slipped off my wet shoes and dropped into the grey bed. It wasn’t very comfortable, but it was better than sleeping on the rough forest floor. I didn’t go to sleep right away. Instead, I turned to my side and looked out the wide window, thinking of what was to come. More specifically, I thought about who I was going to see.
Verena. Or I suppose it was Mamma Verena now. She worked at an inn next to the tavern I once owned in Benjamin. She was caring, kind, witty, and beautiful to top it all off. She’d always talked about opening up her own inn outside the kingdom. From what the Prince had told me, it sounded like she’d finally done it. Though I hadn’t seen her for nearly three years, a surge of pride ran through me.
We’d always been good friends, but I’d secretly hoped we could have been more. Still did. Sadly, our paths had taken us in different directions. I wondered if she was still single, which I wouldn’t have been surprised if she wasn’t. A woman like Verena was one to get noticed by all men. I remember how it drove me crazy when anyone tried to buy her a drink in my tavern back in Benjamin. Maybe now that fate was going to take me back to her, we could start over.
The crooked moon drifted in the sky, and the silver clouds scattered around it looked like dust bunnies in an attic that hadn’t been swept in a while. My eyelids slowly started to droop, and the light of the moon cast a bluish tinge behind them. I floated into unconsciousness with the promise of tomorrow in my mind.
* * *
My eyes flittered open to a waking rooster’s call at the crack of dawn. I looked outside at the lilac colored sky, wondering why I wasn’t in my loft at the tavern in Shelton before I finally remembered everything that happened. Muffled voices drifted into the room from down the stairs. Did Igor have company?
I yawned, stretched out my arms and stepped out of the bed. I slipped my shoes back on; thankfully, they’d dried over the night. I walked out of the room and slowly headed down the creaky stairs. The voices got louder as I descended.
I paused on the last step. Igor was seated at the table in the kitchen, and he wasn’t alone. There was a man and a woman in there with him. The man had grey hair, a wrinkled face that was harsh and crude, and he was standing with one hand on his hip and the other rubbing his forehead as if he had a giant headache. The woman was seated at the table, her face was pinched up and judgmental and her faded auburn hair was tied back too tight. Igor was seated next to the woman, staring at his hands folded on the tabletop with distant eyes, much like the expression he wore yesterday.
“Where the hell did that damn girl run off to?” the man growled.
“Wherever she is, I’m sure she’ll come running back,” the woman sniffed.
“It’s been almost a week, Patricia,” Igor mumbled. “What if she got lost out there in the woods?”
“Hmph. Serves the little brat right. She – hey. Who are you?”
The grey-haired man looked over Igor and spotted me. The woman named Patricia followed his gaze and her shrewd eyes landed on me. Igor turned in his chair and looked at me as well. With all their stares locked on me, I felt like a thief caught in the act, which was ridiculous because I didn’t do anything wrong…except eavesdropped on what I presumed were family matters.
“Oh, that’s just Dewey,” Igor said like we’d been friends for years. I was surprised he even remembered my name. “He stopped by lookin’ for a place to stay last night.”
I coughed self consciously. “Sorry, I didn’t know you had people over.”
“S’alright, bud. You might even be able to help us. Have a seat.”
Hesitantly, I walked over to the table and sat down next to Igor. I shifted in my seat uncomfortably, feeling the woman and the man’s eyes on me.
“Exactly how’s this ding-dong gonna help us?” the man said, looking at me in a way that made me feel like an idiot. I did not appreciate that one bit. I glared right back at him.
“He’s from out there, Reuben. He might have seen her,” Igor said patiently.
“Seen who, exactly?” I asked, making sure that the question was directed at Igor, not the moronic man named Reuben.
“A few days ago,” he began. “Reuben and Patricia’s niece ran away. She’s got hair the color of caramel and eyes as green as the fields. She’s about yay high, has a white horse, and goes by the name of Ivory.”
“Ivory,” I repeated. The name sounded familiar. I traced back my memory over the last few days, and then realized who he was talking about. “Oh! Yeah, she stopped by my tavern in Shelton.”
“Shelton?” Igor said, his blue-green eyes lighting up. Patricia and Rueben glanced at each other meaningfully. Maybe it was just me, but it didn’t seem like they were happy for the right reasons.
“Yeah, but…she isn’t there anymore,” I said.
Igor’s face fell, making me wish that I could give him good news. “What do you mean?”
“She, uh, left town a few days ago,” I said, purposely leaving out the gory details.
“You know where she went to?”
I shook my head. “Sorry.”
Igor sunk back into his seat, dejected. He kept staring at me but I got the feeling he wasn’t really seeing me. Patricia and Rueben now wore sour expressions on their faces.
“I knew he couldn’t help us,” Rueben grumbled. I ignored him.
“Sorry I couldn’t be of more use,” I said, again, to Igor.
He didn’t appear to have heard me, seeming to be in deep thought. There was a short moment of silence, and then Igor perked up again.
“Where are you headed to next, Dewey?” Igor asked.
“I’m going to Benjamin, but I’m going to stop by an inn on the way there. Why?”
He stood up, unwavering determination fixed on his face. “I’m coming with you.”
For a moment, all I did was stare at him. What he was saying didn’t really make sense.
“Erm, sorry?”
“You heard me, Dewey. I’m coming with you,” Igor said, jutting out his chin.
“Why?”
“There isn’t a town other than Shelton for miles and miles from here. Who knows? Maybe Ivory went to that inn you’re speakin’ of.”
What he was saying was true enough. Shelton was probably the nearest town to this farm, which was still pretty far. The next place close enough was probably the inn, but I didn’t see how a kid who’d grown up around this area would know about a place that far away. This also gave me doubt that Igor had left his farm even once.
“Igor, you don’t even know if that’s where she went,” I said, trying to put some sense into him, which was useless because he seemed pretty resolved.
“I won’t know unless I look. You and I both know that there’s a chance she might be there.”
“Yes, but there’s also the chance that she could be lost out in the woods like you said before.”
“Looking around where there’re people around is a lot less easy than scouring an entire forest. But if that’s what it comes down to, I’ll do that, too. For now, I’ll take my chances.”
I was silent. I didn’t know how I would respond to that. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Patricia and Rueben look at each other again, something I didn’t like lurking in each of their eyes. Then they looked back at us and continued to listen to our dispute.
“Alright,” I allowed. “Let’s just say that you find this girl. Then what? You said she ran away, right? I’m assuming she doesn’t want to come back.”
Igor was the silent one this time. His eyes tightened at my words.
“Poppycock!” Rueben was the one to speak now. He walked up to Igor and placed a hard hand on his shoulder. “Igor, you find that girl and you drag her back here by the hair if you have to.”
Again, it didn’t seem like Reuben wanted Igor to find Ivory for the sake of having his niece back. There was something else that he wanted. I could see it in his eyes. But I didn’t say anything more; this was a family matter.
Igor looked back at me and spoke again, quietly this time. “I’m coming with you. I’ll find her, and I’ll make sure she’s safe. We’ll see what happens from there.”
That sounded pretty reasonable to me, even if his plan was a little crazy, but this didn’t seem to suffice with Rueben or Patricia. They looked at each other and pursed their lips, dissatisfied.
“Alright,” I agreed. “Looks like there’s nothing I can do to change your mind.”
Igor nodded, set with resolution. “We’ll pack provisions, and then we’ll go. You know the way. Right, bud?”
I’d figured I’d have to lead the way. “Yes.”
“Good,” Igor smiled at me with his crooked yellow teeth. It was a smile of true camaraderie.
* * *
I didn’t make any effort whatsoever to get to know Patricia and Rueben while Igor packed supplies and provisions for the journey. They in turn, ignored me as well. We stayed in kitchen, staring off in opposite directions and making sure not to make eye contact with each other.
“Alright, bud,” Igor said once he was done packing. “We’re set.”
He gave me a sack and a tossed it over my shoulder. We started heading towards the door when Rueben stopped Igor, pulling him back by the shoulder.
“Igor,” he said low in his ear. “You bring that girl back no matter what, understand.”
Igor nodded once, but I could tell that it was only to shut Rueben up. I’d only known Igor for about twelve hours, but I could see that he wasn’t a man who forced people against their will.
“See you soon, Rueben, Patricia,” Igor said. I had to admit, I admired his humility with them. He had the patience of a saint. “Let’s go, Dewey.”
We headed out the door and into the bright sunlight, trudging down the path to the gate.
“You know, this is the first time I’ve ever left my farm,” Igor said, as though it were something that would have surprised me.
“Really? I never would have guessed,” I said anyways.
I ascended up the dirt road and walked through the farm gate, heading out on a journey with a new ally by my side.
***
(I didn't really look over this guys - I know, big NO NO - sorry for all the mistakes! Let me know what you think!)
