Field of Daisies

Chapter 2

I wake up, startled by the door opening and a face appearing, Theodore's, I remember. The morning's events hit me in bits and pieces.

He asks, "Did I wake you?" I must have jumped. That was a dumb question for him to ask.

As I bring my hand up to rub the sleep from my eyes, my head feeling a bit clearer, I realize my hand is bandaged. Oh shit, that happened this morning too. Was it this morning? How long was I out?

"You were asleep when I came in last time, so I didn't think about signaling my presence or anything." I must have been out cold. He continues, "From now on, I'll tap 3 times," tap, tap, tap, "to signal it's me." This guy is all business I see. Am I being held hostage now?

I nod and find my voice finally, "You did this?" I hold up my gauze-wrapped hand which I am acutely aware of.

It's his turn to nod, a blush creeping up his cheeks as he takes a seat. "It was bleeding pretty bad, and you were out cold. You looked like you needed it. The sleep I mean, and the bandages..." he trails off.

"Yes, uh, thank you." I'm blushing too as I remember how dumb and helpless I must have come off. I rub my eyes more, struggling against my recollection of the events that led me here. I stop when I realize I was drugged. That green shot must be why I slept so heavily. I can only imagine what would have happened had I not throw up my breakfast. Being a Steward is more twisted than I thought.

I uncinch my brow and straighten my spine when my gaze reaches the guy watching me.

Theodore looks away, as if caught, then looks back. I can't tell if he's going to acknowledge the fact that we know each other or if he'll start by questioning why he found me in the state he did. I should be questioning what his intentions are. Instead he breaks our silent stand off, "Do you like my closet?" completely catching my off guard.

He must have noticed my wandering eye, which has re-fixed itself onto his face and he allows his to wander now.

It's pretty standard as far as walk-in closets go: there's a door to enter at the far end and the sides are lined with clothes. What makes it different is how the clothes are stored. There are rods filled with neat button downs and sports coats, hangers of pressed pants, shelves of shoes and hats... Everything is displayed in a clearly thought-out manner across from me, while the side we're on is filled more with personal artifacts, and, surprisingly, a bookcase. That must explain the beanbag I've been resting on.

Theodore looks around as he talks, "So, obviously this is my closet. And when I moved in with my uncle's family I kind of... renovated it. I wanted to be able to organize everything, but also to have a place to escape at times; to read mostly."

This leaves me blinking at him again, trying to piece the house and his skills together. "So you had all these rods and shelves installed?"

He brings his hand up to rub the back of his neck. "I actually installed them. Designed and built," he meets my eyes and brings his hand down, "by yours truly."

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little impressed. "Are you a Producer?" The questions sounds dumb before I even ask it, but I can't hold it back.

"My dad is a Producer, a carpenter. He used to include me in building anything from bird houses to tree houses. Before I got my Assignment, that is." He adds the last part with a bit of longing in his voice. "My Assignment was Commerce, actually. My parent's thought I'd be better off with my uncle, who started in Commerce..."