Farm Tag

Chapter 3. « First night. »

"Dad!"

"Darling!"

"What's wrong?"

"It's none of your business!"

"Am I not allowed to talk?"

"No, I don't have a girlfriend."

"A handsome young man like you? I don't believe it."

"Girls in general are afraid of the military men."

No fucking way.

I look up and feel all eyes on me, except Reid's who's chewing and staring at his plate.

"Angel, apologize!"

"I'm sorry."

I clean my plate and go to the garden. It's huge and covers several hectares. We have pens for the cows, another for the sheep, a small chicken coop... We also have two silos that stretch into the air.

We make our own flour in Dad's workshop, which is why he needs the Berlingo for deliveries.

I watch the cows graze under the purplish sunset, my forearms on the fence and my chin resting on it. I turn around when I hear footsteps.

"I'm-"

He interrupts me.

"Don't apologize, you must have your reasons for not liking us. I'm not questioning your opinion. Your parents told me to come and see you about the car."

"Oh, it's in the garage."

I open the large garage door leading to the workshop, mingling the smell of flour with that of petrol. He goes around the car, bending down as low as he can.

"Indeed, the exhaust is weak."

"It's a wreck and they don't want to get rid of it."

"It's understandable, car enthusiasts would give millions to have it. It's rare to see this kind of model these days."

"I really don't understand what people see in this car."

"Come closer."

"What?"

"Come over here."

I stand in front of him, hesitant.

"Get behind the wheel."

I open the car with the key and get behind the wheel, careful not to hit him with the door. Although that would have been funny to see.

"Start the engine."

"There are so few buttons, it looks like a toy!"

Seeing him smile out of the corner of my eye, I start the car.

"Check that the handbrake is on."

"It is."

"Try accelerating several times."

I do so, a cloud of black smoke appearing behind me. I look in the center mirror with a sigh as Reid covers his mouth and coughs into his forearm, waiting for the smoke to clear.

"It's okay, you can turn it off."

I close the door behind me.

"What do you think of our wreck?"

"It'll do the job."

He looks me and I step back, too close to him. I get out of the garage and close the door.

"The shower's free if you want."

"Ladies first."

Night falls, I keep turning over in the mattress. I can hear Marshall playing with his Nintendo under the blanket, a white light coming through the fabric.