Side quest

Chapter Two

There was no other explanation, it must have been a dream. Perhaps the lightning strike Andrea experienced had caused more damage than she thought, and she was now lying in a coma by the side of the road, or in a hospital somewhere. Maybe, but despite her best efforts, she couldn't completely convince herself it wasn't real. Every detail, from the clothes on her skin, to the pain throughout her body, to the ceramic mug of steaming tea she clasped in her hands and the fragrance it exuded, was all too vivid. How?

Andrea sat quietly in the main room of their home, which was excessively small, even for a family of four. Despite their limited resources, Maeve had been overwhelmingly hospitable; offering her a change of clothes and a portion of what little food they had to spare for even themselves. Being considerate of Andrea's situation, Maeve's sons didn't pry. Instead, they left their mother to do all the talking and care as they went about their evening chores.

"Consider yourself lucky; it's not broken," Maeve determined after examining the painful wound across Andrea's nose. She had everything to consider herself lucky for. Her burns were not severe, she hadn't suffered any loss of sight or hearing, and only a few inches of her singed hair had to be cut. Sure she was still battered and bruised, but she was alive.

When Maeve's husband finally returned home, he was almost as covered in soot as Andrea was when she first arrived. Excusing herself from Andrea's company, Maeve approached him and begun speaking in a hushed tone that was nearly impossible for her to understand. Nearly. They spoke briefly of the wildfire and the strange surges of lightning that allegedly followed it. They also talked about Andrea, whom they shared their relatively harmless theories about. That's good, she thought. The last thing she needed was to be accused of being a firebug.

"She's so distant," His wife whispered concernedly, "In shock, I assume. I don't think she remembers much."

Remember much of what? Andrea wondered. She had only been in their presence a few hours and with very little vocal interaction. There was no question of what Andrea remembered, but what she understood was uncertain. Her wound twinged with pain and she raised her hand to touch it, inadvertently knocking over the tea in her lap and causing its contents to spill across the floor. Silently cursing her carelessness, she quickly picked up the cup and did what she could to clean the spill with the towel she had been given.

Stealing away the cup and the rag, Maeve was by her side in a moment. "No, no, no" She assured Andrea, "I have it, accidents happen." Wow. If only her own mother had been so understanding...

A moment passed before she looked to Maeve's husband, "um...the fire?"

"It spreads out far but, we contained it on our end," he replied matter-of-factly, "while you were out there, did you happen to witness anything?"

She shook her head. "Nothing I could explain," She admitted, which was the truth. In her solitude Andrea had replayed the event over and over again in her head, scrutinizing each and every frame of memory as it flashed by. Somewhere between being trapped in a lightning storm and running from a forest fire, she ended up here. It didn't make sense.

"That's alright. It's been a long day, for all of us," He stated, then raising his voice to catch the attention of his kids, he added: "and its become quite late!"

Despite the children's groans and whines of disapproval, they reluctantly stopped their activities and began to prepare for bed. Maeve excused herself once again to assist their youngest while her husband, Cecil, showed Andrea to her temporary bed which Maeve had made up earlier. The sleeping arrangement was meager, consisting of a small cot situated close to the ground and dressed with only a thin sheet and pillow. Andrea knew that it was unlikely she would sleep well here, but graciously thanked Cecil, and Maeve when she appeared, for their hospitality before they left her to settle in for the night.