Chapter 5
1679 Words
During the days Anderson spent recovering at Evie's cottage, she rarely ventured out. He'd occasionally glimpse her clumsily tending the fields with a hoe, but more often, she seemed drawn to the back mountains.
Anderson wasn't one to pry, so his exploration was limited to finding the way out. However, witnessing Evie's struggles with the land, he couldn't bear to be a freeloader and took over the tilling duties. Evie even found him a larger hoe, urging him to "work hard."
The days of peaceful farming surprised Anderson with their unexpected charm. Yet, one question lingered.
One evening, as Evie prepared his medicine, he finally asked, "Haven't you needed to leave the cottage these past few days?"
"Ah, I was just about to tell you," Evie replied, stirring the simmering concoction with a fan. "This is the last dose. Your recovery has been remarkable, and you no longer require my treatment."
Anderson paused, then realization dawned. "So, I can leave?"
"Do you wish to stay?" Evie countered.
"Certainly not!" he retorted without hesitation.
"Good, saves me the effort of chasing you away," she teased.
"This meager place holds no allure for me," he scoffed.
Despite his words, Anderson instinctively took over the dinner preparations. The soil in the twentieth year of the apocalypse possessed a peculiar quality. The crops in the carefully tended fields grew rapidly, allowing Anderson to enhance their meals with fresh vegetables daily.
After dinner, as he was about to speak, Evie grabbed the kerosene lamp and dashed out, leaving him no opportunity to utter a word. Reminding himself not to be a burden, he washed the dishes with a clear conscience.
Darkness enveloped the land. Anderson retired to the cottage, but sleep eluded him that night. He realized he hadn't heard the girl return. Evie often took the lamp to check on her flowers at night, usually returning within half an hour, but tonight, it had been much longer.
He sat up on the rather unyielding bed, his gaze drawn to the chipped vase by the window, holding the flower cuttings she had gifted him a few nights ago. He had kept them for their supposed air-purifying qualities, but tonight, they reminded him of the girl.
Where was she?
After tossing and turning, Anderson rose and stepped outside, easily navigating the familiar path past the fields before pausing, searching for Evie.
The darkness was profound. He searched for what felt like an eternity until he finally found her, a tiny figure crouched amidst the flowerbeds, nearly blending into the shadows, only occasionally trembling with the swaying blooms.
"Hey..." he started, only then realizing he didn't know her name. "Little one," he settled on.
Evie's gentle voice floated to him on the wind, "Why are you here?"
He didn't mention coming specifically to find her. They were, after all, strangers sharing a roof, especially with his departure looming tomorrow.
"Couldn't sleep, came for a walk," he said, his gaze fixed on the ground, carefully avoiding the vibrant flowers as he approached.
Evie, watching his steady steps, remarked with envy, "You walk so steadily even in the dark. It's amazing."
"You could too if you stopped picking out the carrots from your meals," he teased, settling beside her.
A moment of silence followed before Evie protested, "Those crops were meant for guests, I shouldn't be eating them."
"Didn't stop you from enjoying the milk," he countered.
Evie fell silent. Their interactions were limited to mornings and evenings, brief exchanges that nonetheless revealed Evie's sharp wit. Anderson felt a surge of amusement at her rare speechless moment.
"Where's your lamp?" he inquired, a smile playing on his lips.
In the darkness, Evie's beautiful features drooped. "I tripped and broke it," she admitted.
"Why are you sitting here then?"
"Don't be obtuse."
"You're afraid of the dark, aren't you?" he stated matter-of-factly.
"Everyone has weaknesses. Can't I be afraid of the dark?" she retorted. "Don't you have any?"
"Of course not," he scoffed.
"You do."
"And what might that be?"
"My hoe."
"Ha."
"I also fear stepping on my plants in the dark. But sitting here isn't so bad. I love the scent of grass and flowers... achoo..." Evie sneezed mid-sentence.
Anderson chuckled.
Evie sniffled, then let out another sneeze.
"Want me to take you back?" he finally offered.
"No, I'll just stay here."
"Then I'll be off." He stood up and walked away from the flowerbed.
Evie's resolve crumbled. "Wait, I've changed my mind. Take me back."
"Only one chance."
"Hey! I won't give you any food tomorrow if you leave me here."
Anderson returned, looking down at the girl crouched on the ground. "Fine, one more chance, for taking me in."
Evie pouted, then stood up, only to stumble as her legs had gone numb from squatting.
Anderson instinctively stepped aside, fearing she might fall on him. Evie, oblivious to his subtle movement, fell with a cry of pain.
He thought, "It's just a fall, she's quite delicate," and asked, "Can't get up, can you?"
The broken lamp lay nearby. As she fell, her hand landed on the glass shards, cutting into her palm, sending waves of pain through her.
Evie whimpered.
Anderson thought she was about to cry, but then he caught the scent of blood, realizing she might be seriously hurt.
Evie extended her uninjured left hand, grabbing his shirt. "Please, take me back. And watch your step," she said.
She didn't elaborate, and he didn't ask. He wasn't known for his compassion, even though she had saved his life.
"Alright," he agreed, trying to ignore the discomfort of her grip on his shirt as he led her back to the cottage.
Their proximity brought the scent of grass and flowers back to him, the same aroma that had filled his dreams every night since he lay dying in the shallow grave he had dug for himself. It was the scent of her fingertips.
He wouldn't experience it again.
...
The next day, despite the early hour, the sun was already harsh. Anderson woke, washed up, and instinctively headed to the kitchen to prepare breakfast when Evie emerged from her room next door.
Her right hand hung limply at her side, wrapped in a piece of cloth. He assumed it was from her injury the night before, but the makeshift bandage concealed the severity of the wound. Not that it was any of his concern.
Evie stopped a short distance from him and said, "You don't have to cook breakfast this morning."
"Wasn't planning to," he retorted automatically.
She simply responded with an "Oh," then continued, "Come with me. I'll give you some food, and then you can be on your way."
Anderson marveled at her excessive kindness, even preparing provisions for him. His emotions were a tangled mess, knowing he wouldn't find such a kind-hearted soul in the harsh world outside.
He silently followed Evie to a small storage shed behind the cottage where they kept food supplies.
Seemingly sensing his gaze, she turned her head slightly. "Why are you staring?"
"Do you do this for everyone?"
Evie's eyes widened in surprise. "Shouldn't I?"
He wanted to say no, to point out her naivety, but the words wouldn't come. If she weren't like this, his body and soul would have perished in that pit.
He remained silent, and they walked on without another word. As they passed through the fields of herbs, vegetables, flowers, and grass, a gentle breeze carried the scent of fresh air.
Finally, Anderson spoke, but the words that came out were, "Next time you save someone, be more cautious. You'll regret it if you encounter someone like me, a bad person."
"You're not bad," Evie immediately countered.
"I considered killing you."
"But you didn't." Evie looked at him earnestly. "You also said you wouldn't hesitate to snap my neck, but you haven't. And you helped me last night."
With unwavering conviction, she declared, "I can sense you are a good person. And you will become even better."
It was the first time anyone had called him good. Anderson stared at her, then suddenly stepped forward and gripped her neck. Evie's eyes widened, and she tried to kick him, but he held her leg down.
It all happened in a flash. He quickly released her and said, "Little one, you need to be more wary."
Evie, fuming, turned away from him. This was a first. He didn't care if she was angry; they were just strangers who happened to cross paths.
Standing under the scorching sun, sweat trickling down his forehead, he watched Evie retreat to the shade, still refusing to look at him. Instead, she focused on her injured hand dangling by her side.
He wiped a bead of sweat from his brow and said, "You won't be able to use your hoe with your hand like that, so let the fields rest for a while. Thank you for taking me in. If fate allows us to meet again..."
The rest of his sentence remained unspoken. Such words felt empty, so he turned to leave.
Evie suddenly called out to him.
He turned back to see her remove the straw hat from her head, revealing beautiful black hair. She lifted her hand and tossed the hat towards him.
She had woven it herself, a bit large, shading most of her face when she wore it, but it might fit him just right.
"May you be safe," she said, tilting her head up to look at him. "Don't stay in the wasteland, go to the city."
He caught the hat. As she finished speaking, she turned and walked away, leaving him with her back.
Anderson looked down at the hat in his hand, the scent of grass and flowers filling his senses.
He started walking, his gaze met only by the charred wasteland, devoid of any greenery. He looked back, but the oasis had vanished from sight.
He couldn't shake the feeling that the past few days had been an unreal, beautiful dream. Now, he was awake, back in the darkness.
- Writer
