Chapter 4- feel at home
1297 Words
Clara couldn't turn nor move an inch; all she did was pause and wait for the car.
“What if they had caught me?” She muttered to herself, her whole skin hair lifted up.
The car drove closer to her but stopped; someone opened the car door and walked toward her.
“I didn't see…anything.”She lifted her hands in defeat, without thinking twice.
“Hey, you must be new here, right?” A lady in her early 50s spoke to her.
Clara turned to face the lady; her little grey hair had puffed out. She had black trousers, with brown boots and a cowboy cap, with a little stick with her.
“Who are you?” Clara wasn't in for a joke, her gun firmly in her back trouser.
“I'm Cynthia, and I'm here with my family. You must be?”she asked.
“Clara,” she answered quickly, leaving the old lady with a smirk.
“Come with us; we have a lot of empty rooms for you to stay in.” The lady spoke; Clara stared at her and then at Cynthia's children inside the car.
“I don't know you; how will I trust you?” She managed to snarl and folded her hands as she stared at Cynthia.
“Trust me? Hell no! We don't have time now; get in the car before it's late,” the lady ordered.
“Late? Why?” A lot of questions ran through Clara’s mind, but those were the little ones that escaped from her lips.
“Night out here isn’t for someone like you or me either,” she assumed.
“What?” Clara's brown eyes widened as it batted.
“We don't have much time; get in now!” the lady commanded, not giving Clara enough time to think it through.
Clara glanced at the area for the last time, and as she shivered down her spine, immediately her eyes met again with the dead babies.
She ran faster behind the lady and straight inside the car.
“Good day.” Clara greeted the two boys and a girl; the elder was 19 years old, while the junior brother was 10, and the little sis was 16.
Cynthia's children stared at Clara and nodded with a smile before giving her a space to sit.
Clara sat there, not as comfortable as in James' car. She couldn't stop the thoughts of seeing those dead babies.
Cynthia drove faster inside the town, as bold as it was. The Owen town, well written on a huge blank, hung in the air, some bamboo supporting it.
Immediately she read the words, a sharp pain pierced down her neck as she screamed a little.
She tried pretending not to draw attention, but the memories drove down her mind.
She could clearly recall herself wandering at the entrance; she held her head firmly while resting it at the window.
Cynthia glanced at her from the driver mirror, smiled, and continued with driving.
Immediately, they headed off the entrance. Clara's eyes windered at the beauty of the town, with little kids roaming around, playing.
Some mothers yelled at the top of their voices, calling their children inside.
Clara stared at them, and a little smile pumped out. The fresh breeze blew directly into her skin as she chuckled.
Their car moved over to an old tree, showing a direction. Cynthia pulled the car to the right, and then another little road showed its face.
The houses were filled with lights; everywhere didn't seem dark.
Clara kept on tossing her head to see if she could get to the wood that she once got lost at. But no single sign of such, like it was all in her fake memory.
She took a deep breath, her hands clutched beneath her trousers as she stared still at the town.
“We have arrived.” Cynthia announced, and all her kids stretched their hands while yawning in tiredness.
Clara glanced at them with no words, her eyes figuring out what the place looked like.
Cynthia's house was located far from the main town; few houses could be seen, they were at a distance from each other.
Clara slid the car door open and hopped outside with her hands firmly at her bag. Cynthia's children rushed toward their house door, waiting for their mom.
“Please help me out.” Cynthia pleaded as Clara nodded before following her to the car's back boot.
Suddenly, an awful smell drew down Clara's nose as she waved it off.“What is this smell?”
“It's hunting, my dear.” Cynthia responded, ignoring her sudden question. She pulled the back door open, and brought the antelope out.
“Oh, I see,” Clara scoffed, as she helped the lady pull the rest of the stuff out of the boot. It was more of hunting equipment.
“How did you kill that?” she suddenly recalled. Killing such an animal needed good skills and also a long gun.
“My hunter, of course; I'm a part-time hunter.” The lady chuckled and smiled at Clara before banging the back boot firmly and walking over to her house.
She threw the house key to her eldest son as he grabbed at the air and opened the door.
Clara was still holding some items, and the little girl rushed over to her to help. Clara tried insisting, but she placed an innocent face at her.
“Okay, fine,” Clara sighed, pulling some items to her. The girl nodded before walking fast inside the house; Clara scanned the whole place before taking a deep breath and heading inside the house.
Surprisingly for her, the house was well designed. Like some British type of styling, the chairs are well arranged. They had a little space for their dining. Cynthia stopped and glanced at Clara as she gave her a sign to follow her.
Clara walked toward her with the heavy items she carried.
Shockingly, Cynthia opened a storage room close to the dining room. Placed the items and then the antelope inside.
“What will you do with it?” Clara asked, wondering why she kept in there.
“For tomorrow’s selling. This meat is costly at our market.” Cynthia responded, pulling the last items inside the storage room and closing it firmly.
“Sasha…Sasha.” Cynthia called her daughter as Sasha rushed toward them.
“Please, take her to the visitor room.” She commanded.
“Thank you, Ma.” Clara thanked Cynthia and nodded before Clara followed Sasha behind.
They strolled toward the stairs and then to the hallway; it was quieter but more peaceful than expected.
Everywhere seemed homely; Clara glanced at each door wanting to master her way back downstairs, in case she was needed.
“Here it is; everything is well prepared.” Sasha said, jumping in excitement.
“Thank you, but—” Clara spoke, and Sasha paused and turned to face her.
“Yes?” she questioned.
“Can you tell me about the dead twins hanging at the entrance to town?” Clara spied Sasha's reaction.
Sasha paused, without saying a single word. She tried speaking but got her lips snapped.
“Please…” Clara dragged Sasha's hands.
“Never mention that to Mom or to anyone.” Sasha warned her.
“What?” Clara stared in disbelief at the teenage girl, trying to figure out what she meant.
“Why?” Stubborn as Clara was, she asked.
“For your safety, and everyone in this town.” Sasha said, before rushing out of her view.
Clara's legs froze; she couldn't move an inch. She held herself to the wall as the words Sasha said repeated in her mind.
- Writer
