Earthrumbler

Chapter Fourteen: Revitalize

Once I changed, Dave handed me a plate, and my stomach clenched, both ill and delighted at the thought of being filled. The pile of food atop it was enough for two guests. When I had tried to put some back, he stopped me. “You’re all bones. A little meat on you would do some good.” His kindness caught me off guard; it had been so long since anyone had bothered to show me any.

I worked quietly, and in exchange, Dave asked no questions about whom I was, where I came from, or even what I was wearing when I’d stumbled in. When I was washing the floor beneath tables’ legs, he chuckled. “Alright, that’s enough. Now, you’re just nitpicking. It’s nearly midnight. Sit down.” He motioned to the chair across from his. Dave sipped at a mug whose twin sat in front of me. “It’s a hot drink that my mum used to make me when I was sick.” When I eyed it warily, he said, “Trust me. It tastes good.”

I lifted the mug to my lips and took a small drink. It was sweet and smooth with a frothy layer on top. A smile twitched to my lips. “You don’t have to be so nice to me.”

He shrugged. “I don’t see what good it’d do me to be mean to you. You walked in here looking like death.” When the smile melted off my face, he added, “You don’t have to talk about where you came from or how you ended up here. It just breaks my heart to see a kid running off in what might as well be a bed sheet.”

I took another sip. “You wouldn’t think so if you knew where I was running from.” Memories flooded my conscious thought, each one picking away at my sanity.

He gave me a nod of understanding. “You did well tonight. One of the best labor exchanges I’ve made. Usually, they’re so sloppy that I end up doing it myself.”

I replied, “My father owns an inn. I’ve been doing these things for as long as I can remember.” I relaxed into the chair, not entirely comfortable in the scratchy material of the britches or the stiffness of the cheaply made boots.

“I didn’t realize you were a professional,” he jested, a tentative smile on his face.

I returned the gesture, but it faded as my hand ached. I tried to rub the pain out of it, but only managed to agitate it.

 “Hold on a moment.” Dave walked off. When he returned a few moments later, he had a cloth tied up like a pouch. He rested it on my hand; cool ice soothed the injury.

I smiled again. “Thank you.” With his curious glance, I added, “Someone broke it. He wrapped his hand around mine and crushed it.”

At the explanation, he cringed. “Listen, Eve, if you’re not ready to be moving on in the morning, I don’t mind keeping you around for a while.”

I nodded and drank more. My thoughts lingered on the looming possibility of a nightmare horrific enough to guilt me into flinging myself back into the ocean. “Thank you, but I’ll have to see in the morning.”

“I set up a cot with some blankets for you in the back room whenever you’re ready. Take your time in the morning. There’s a tub you can use, and my fiancé can look at your hand.” He stood and stretched his arms over his head.

“Thank you so much,” I said, “Goodnight, Dave.

“Goodnight, Eve. Extinguish the lanterns when you’re done.” As he walked away, he added, “And, hey, whenever you’re ready, you can tell me your real name.” He offered a grin at the horror across my face.

When he left, I blew out all but one lantern and carried it with me into the kitchen. Once I rinsed my mug, I headed into the back room. I pushed open a window, and cool night air flooded the stuffy room. My eyes, heavy and sore, nestled on the small camp bed and a thin blanket over it. I kicked off the boots and collapsed into it. I wrapped the blanket around myself and curled my knees in. My sleep was dreamless, and when I awoke, light filtered in through the open window.