Bring them back

Chapter 3

"Thank you, Miss, for saving my friend", the man turned to face the young woman, who put up the courage to lift up the lamp to get a better look on his face. The light of the candle flickered in his eyes, they seemed to be of a greenish blue, caring and curious. "And sorry... for the trouble."

She eyed him carefully before lowering the lamp again, nodding towards Hosea. "It's okay. You should go see a doctor, just in case, though. He seems confused regarding his surroundings."

"Oh, he's not the only one bein' confused, Miss", another one chimed in, coming closer, stopping at the other man's side. His black hair shimmered in the moon light. "None of us know where we are."

"How do you... excuse me?" Her gaze wandered from one man to the other.

"It's a bit complicated, I'm afraid." Hosea sighed and smiled at Jenkins, the tiniest smile she'd ever seen. "Miss, not to be pushy, but my old bones are no match for the cold. Do you know where we can rest tonight?"

Jenkins stared at the men. They did really not know where they were. The next hostel was at least an hour away – going by car. There was literally nothing within walking-distance. "I'm afraid there is no... no hostel or hotel."

"Nothing? Where the hell are we?"

"Marston, you fucking idiot. Why did ya have to play with that statue?"

The small but intense tumult stopped almost immediately when Hosea waved the men off. "Stop it, boys. What's done, is done. No need to scare the Miss off." He gave Jenkins an apologetically smile. "I have to apologize for that coarse lot. They don't mean no harm, they're just ill-mannered."

"Excuse me, but... how did you get into these woods?", she dared asking, very well aware it was indiscreet. But how would these guys end up in this forest without knowing how it had come so? How did they not know their way back? None of them? "This is far from any road."

"Well, Miss Jenkins, you see, that is the point. None of us know that for sure", Hosea started talking, stepping beside her. "If you don't mind, can you show us the way to the next village?"

Now this was odd. In every possible way. She knew she was not responsible for these men, but they at least seemed to be peaceful and not out to rape or murder her. But then again, one did never really know for sure, right?

But that old man needed to see a doctor, he had hit his head for sure.
And it was really cold.
And the next village was quite far away, they'd walk at least two hours. None of these men was dressed so that they would not freeze to death in that time. No, walking was out of question.

With a final sigh she lifted the lamp again to look into Hosea's face.
"I cannot show you. It's too far to walk, especially since you don't wear jackets."

"Jesus, we're in the middle of nowhere. Marston, I swear, if we ever gonna get outta this, I'll-"

"What'chu gon' do, Morgan? It ain't my fault and you know that."

Jenkins looked at the men arguing and tried to figure if she should lead them to the road leading to her house and call a taxi or an uber.
But somehow she had the impression that this would not help them at all. They had no idea where they were – getting driven to a place they didn't know either made no sense at all.

But was it safe to invite them to at least warm themselves up with a cup of tea?
Was it?
Did she really want to do that?
Or was her frustration that bad that she just needed people to tell her that she was good at something? And if it only was being nice.

What harm can it do, really? I'm fucked anyway, she decided. No risk, no fun. Get that compliment or die trying.
Clearing her throat she awkwardly looked at Hosea. "I- well, I live nearby. If you want to warm yourselves, you're welcome."

"Oh, Miss, that's too kind", he said, glancing at his – what were they? Friends? Companions? Sons? "But I am sure it is not appropriate to presume on your good nature."

"Don't mention it. You'd freeze out here. Come now." With that, Jenkins led the way, a trail of men behind her, following the ghostly light of her candle. Good nature. He has no idea.
Somehow she felt like a mother duck, her ducklings close behind her, chattering and all excited. Because that was how the men behaved, their spirits clearly rising and talking to each other in low, a bit more cheerful voices.

Arriving in her big, overgrown garden, Jenkins fumbled for her keys.
She already loved that place. Everywhere were shrubs, during day bees filled the air with buzzing, sweet smelling flowers grew at every corner and in between. Ivy seemed to overtake the house itself, growing up to the roof and partly over it.

There were even two rambling roses taking over almost a whole wall, except for parts of the windows. They emitted an infatuating scent, bewitching with their pink and apricot blossoms.
It was wonderful.

"That's ya place?", one of the men behind her asked, clearly stunned.

"It's a legacy. And yes, that's my place." She opened the door and turned on the light. The small hallway was framed with potted and hanging plants, everywhere in this white painted room was something green. "Please, take off your shoes before you enter. And be careful, don't stumble over the plants."

Muttering the men followed her in, taking off their shoes at the door – soon there was a pile of jumbled leather boots, only assignable by size. They crammed the small hallway and for a second Jenkins feared the house would just burst. But of course it did not.

"That's quite a nice place you got, Miss", Hosea commented, following the young woman into the spacey kitchen. He noticed the many different herbs, their pots being crammed on the two windowsills, the spider plants hanging from the ceiling, the smell of coffee in the air. "It's quite a place."

Jenkins heard the men talk in the hallway, they did not sound very pleased. She turned around to Hosea, noticing his glance over to the herbs.
"Thank you. How about some tea for you and your...?"

"Oh, they are my family."

"Quite a big family you have there."

"Oh, I'm sorry, Miss. They are not my family by blood. We... it's more like a family by choice", he said, fondness sneaking on his voice. He scratched his neck, a sheepish smile on his face. "Tea sounds just lovely."

She grabbed one of her bigger enamel pots and put it on the stove. If she was not mistaken, there had been seven men, counting Hosea in. One and a half litres would not be enough. She filled the pot with water.
"So, you and your family by choice, how did you get into the woods?"

"I fear, as I told you, we don't know for sure. Maybe John can tell you more about it, maybe not."

"Who's John?" Jenkins opened the drawer with dried herbs. "Herbal or fruit tea?"

When Hosea did not answer, the woman turned to ask him again – but he was no longer in the kitchen with her. Instead, she could hear him scold the men. What had they been doing?
Without caring much for the tea, Jenkins grabbed her biggest ladle. Almost marching she crossed the kitchen, out into the hallway, ready to defend herself – when she found some of the men were sitting on the stairs, others had made their way into her living room, staring at her interior.

"Woha, Miss, no need to take us all out", a man with shoulder long dark brown hair said, halfway smirking, but still serious enough. He lifted his hands up. "We don't mean to..."

"Who are you?", Jenkins demanded to know.