𝐃𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐕𝐀𝐍

𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘-𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓

Once he accepted there wouldn't be much modesty about the situation and looked Katherine Louise in the eye, he let her into his home. Katherine sat in the kitchen for a while alone and looked around, analyzed everything, looked for...something.

She must have fallen and hit her head. It's the only way this can be explained. The climate change, the scenery...the man, who grumbled to her that his name is Kairoi. 

He comes out from around the corner, in close proximity to Katherine, holding a lump of off-white fabric. "You're about the size of my wife," he says, the dirty brim of his brown hat hiding his eyes. "I think this'll do." Katherine's eyes dart to the fabric once more. "She...this...she didn't get to wear this one before the cough took her."

"What cough?"

"Consumption, last winter." 

"Tuberculosis," Katherine says, getting to her feet. 

"Sure." He hesitates more, still unwilling to look up from the floor. 

"Looking at me isn't gonna make you burst into flames."

He puffs out a laugh and finally focuses his dark eyes on her face before holding the folded dress out to her. 

"I'm fine in what I'm wearing, thank you."

"How'd you get all the way out here by yourself?" He asks. There's an unasked question looming in his face, his eyes studying hers. "You get lost, or...did a man bring you out here? You got away?" He looks to the mud on her jeans, very briefly. 

"I'm fine," Katherine replies. "So let's drop this little charade, all right? I need to go home."

"Home," Kairoi scoffs, setting the dress on the small table. He rests all of his weight through his hands, staring down at the old wood before looking at her again. "Girl, ain't nobody got a home here. Not anymore."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"What do you think it means?" He retorts. "The South is a wasteland, if you haven't noticed. No money...lots of people have no food, neither." Kairoi pats the dress and points to the room he came from. "You go wash up and get decent. Supper's soon."

Katherine grits her teeth, watching the old man hobble back outside. She snatches the dress up and moves for the bedroom.

The heat is starting to get to her. 

Katherine's mind twists itself into knots as she sheds her winter clothing. Each garment that comes off, the less it all makes sense. She stuffs each article into her backpack, almost as if packing away her pretzel thoughts, and sets it in the corner.

This is a case now. 

Katherine looks up at the small, dirty mirror on the wardrobe and sighs. 

Square one, Donovan.

Kairoi is putting more wood on the fire when she emerges from the room. A pot hangs over the controlled blaze, but with the door and windows open, a breeze takes the added heat away. 

The table is big enough to seat three people. Small, round, nice wood. There's a cot in the corner with thin sheets and a small blanket for a pillow. Probably don't need much more than that, since it's so warm during the day, it may not cool off much in the evening. 

It must, though, if it is what Kairoi said it is. 1863. No concrete jungles to trap the heat. Just dirt and grass and many more trees than 2007 has to offer. 

Katherine stands beside Kairoi and peers into the pot he's stirring. Some kind of stew. Goopy...she isn't even sure what it smells like.

"You made that?" She asks, swallowing much of her grimace.