Painting Wolves

Chapter 6

     I woke up to fur in my mouth. I spat it out, waving at Molly who had evidently been sleeping on my head. I stretched and rubbed my eyes. It took a moment for me to remember where I was, and I sobered quickly after I did. Today wasn't a day I was looking forward to. Thinking about how I would never be able to see Genny again made my face grow hot and my eyes moist. I took a shuddering breath. It seemed like the air was less refreshing than it had been a week ago.

     Swinging my feet out of the low bed, I jumped out, giving a small squeak at the coldness of the floor. Molly gave a grumpy mrowl at my activity at what she clearly considered an ungodly hour, and moved into the cavity I left in the sheets, curling up in the remnants of warmth. I quickly threw on a large sweater and tights, as they were the warmest things I'd brought to Tennessee. I'd have to go shopping soon if all the days were like yesterday and today, I realized with chagrin. Damn. I hated shopping. Genny had always helped... but no. That wasn't a possibility any more.

     I pulled on some colorful socks, hoping that they would alleviate the chill from the icy wood. I never knew how really cold a wooden floor could be till now. I grabbed my phone and ID and shoved them into my pockets. Boots were pulled on over my knee socks quickly. I didn't want to go downstairs looking too insane- it was a store after all. When I finally went down into the store, Donald was already there, sitting at the counter reading a book. He looked up as I entered. I nodded shyly. He closed his book and sat up. 

     "Morning Anne," he said. "Sleep well?"

     I nodded. "I slept fine thank you. How about you?"

     Donald shook his head. "I'm old. We don't sleep well. We sleep. If we're lucky."

     My lips twitched. "I'm sure you're not that old."

     He snorted. "I'd call seventy-eight old. I don't know what you'd call it, but for me it's old. Damn old." He stood and stretched, his bones snapping and popping into place. He groaned. "Getting creakier every day that passes."

     "I'd call it settling in," I said.

     "So just as I'm settling in the big guy'll pull me out huh? That's not encouraging."

     I frowned. "That's not what I meant..."

     Donald gave a laugh at my discomfort. "Sorry. I'm afraid my sense of humour edges on the morbid."

     My shoulders relaxed. Thank god he was joking. I didn't want to think about any more death. 

      "Breakfast?" He asked with a motion towards the back room. I nodded gratefully.

      We ate eggs and toast with tomatoes, and it tasted delicious- like nothing I'd tasted in New York. I exclaimed over the tomatoes. "These are delicious," I said in surprise. "Normally I don't even like them raw, but these are so sweet that they don't taste like tomatoes."

      "That'd be Genny's doing," he said proudly. "She said I needed to eat healthier, and talked me into making a vegetable garden. Thanks to her, I don't have to spend much money on food. I can grow almost anything I need in my garden." We talked a bit more, the old man and I. He wasn't half as gruff as Jared had said. I wondered if Jared had ever tried to sit and talk with him like this. Probably not. I learned from Donald that Genny had come down to town regularly to talk with him. She had started the garden after an incident last year where he'd gone nearly two days without eating when she hadn't been able to stop by and remind him. He told me proudly that he even sold the vegetables that grew there, there was so much surplus. 

     "I hate wasting food, so I end up eating it or selling it so it doesn't go bad. Tricky chit, but her methods work. Haven't missed a meal since."