Having no way to tell what time it is, when I get out of bed, totally awake, I just assume it’s morning. Holly is still fast asleep, with Aurora tucked gently underneath one of her arms.
When she made up the excuse that Aurora was my comfort animal, she must’ve been projecting. Not that I blame her. Whatever helps her sleep at night. Literally.
I sit out in the living room for maybe ten to fifteen minutes before I decide I might as well make breakfast. It’s the least I can do to return the favor. Since we had bacon and eggs yesterday, or as close as we can get to that, I decide crêpes are the way to go. Normally, the longest part of the process is mixing the ingredients, but it actually takes me longer to find them, seeing as half of what I would normally use is replaced with whatever future food substitute people made up. Still, they turn out alright, if not a little discolored.
The smell must’ve woken Holly, because she appears in the doorway with messy hair, Aurora close behind.
“Those pancakes?” She asks.
I shake my hand, implying more or less.
“Well, that’s awesome. Thanks for making it.”
She grabs a couple of utensils and sits down at her plate, taking a good long look at the crêpe. “Although, now that I’m up close, it looks a little blue.”
I shake a box of imitation milk.
“My God, imitation milk? What have the liberals done to this country?”
I laugh.
“I wonder what’s on our agenda for today. Sola didn’t really say anything, but I imagine they want to have us go out scavenging with them again.”
Kind of want to explore, I write. If we’re gonna be stuck here for a bit, I at least want to make it enjoyable.
“For sure. We can’t even try out any of the fancy tech. What a disappointing future to go to.”
Aurora sniffs the air.
“That’s not your fault though, girlie. You didn’t know what you were doing.”
Hopefully.
I would have preferred to stay back where we were, even if it was three years in the future. At least then we didn’t have to worry about the ghosts.
What even happened to the ghosts? Did they all disintegrate like the captain did when that sphere got bumped?
A knock on the door interrupts our quaint little breakfast. Holly stands up to answer it before I even set my fork down.
“Good to see you too again,” I hear Sola’s voice say. “I wasn’t sure if you’d be awake yet. Then again, it’s not super early.”
“Yeah, no worries. Come on in, Tes made pancakes.”
I write crêpes in big letters on the page of the notebook.
“Isn’t crêpe just French for pancake?” Holly asks.
I make a smooshing motion with my hands, trying to visually represent the difference between the two.
“Well, I don’t know what pancakes or crêpes are,” Sola says, grabbing themselves a plate. “Or French, for that matter. I assume that used to be a language.”
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“And a people. That’s where Tes’ parents are from.”
“That’s cool, I guess. Mine were born on Alpha Centauri.”
“I got that California blood in me for a few generations.”
“Still very weird that you are from the United States. That country had some serious… issues.”
“There’s a few, but it was probably after our time when things got real bad. I’d like to think we’re pretty well-rounded.”
“That’s what they always say. Anyway, today I figured you could go help in the gardens with some farming. It’s a little less stressful than scavenging.”
“Cool. I’m ready whenever.”
I write “shower” on the paper.
“Yeah, I suppose you can do that. We’ll be waiting.”
I hop in the shower for a quick rinse, hoping to avoid alone time as much as possible, and re-join them wearing some considerably loose-fitting clothing from the dresser in our bedroom. The hoodie has a massive pocket in the front.
“Time to get a move on,” Sola says. “The farmers are already out and working.”
“Some things never change.”
We head to the farm, which is shockingly large for only feeding fifteen people. Maybe I have no perspective on how big a farm should be, seeing as I’ve never lived on or near one. We weren’t in a super urban area of California, but it certainly wasn’t rural.
“Hey, Maggie,” Sola says, talking to one of the farmers, “good to see you. Here are the two time-travelers I mentioned. I’ll be out scavenging for the day again, so do as you see fit.”
“Good to finally put names to faces,” Maggie says. “The elders have been saying a lot about you. Seems you’ve got a few of them riled up.”
“Oh? Is that a good thing?” Holly asks.
“I guess we’ll find out, huh?”
“I’ll leave you to it.” Sola salutes and backs away, headed for the surface.
“I’ll be honest, there’s not a lot left for you two to do until harvest at the end of the month. I can find some small things, like maybe some beans that require a quick pluck, but otherwise, I’m treating you two as purely extra hands.”
“That’s OK. I guess all we need is something to do. We’re both more than happy to help while we’re here.”
“See that field over there? Those are green beans. Go through and grab the ripe ones. You’ll know they’re ready if they look like this.”
Maggie hands Holly a fresh green bean pod. It’s weird to be told what a fresh green bean looks like, as if that’s something we’ve never experienced.
Holly, Aurora, and I head out for the beans, being careful not to step on any other crops along the way.
“Have you ever seen an Amish person?” Holly asks.
I shake my head.
“They’re an interesting group of people. Imagine purposefully dedicating your life to a lack of modern technology. In our time, that’s considered backwards. Here, it’s for survival.”
Another “Holly makes you think” moment. We won’t be running out of those any time soon.
Our work in the field starts in a small section, where we slowly and carefully nitpick each plant, selecting the ones we’ve deemed ripe enough to eat. When our hands are full, we place our collection in baskets lining the side of the farm.
An hour later, the three of us stare down at a basket of our hard work.
“I would not want to be Amish.”
Me neither. We’ve hardly made a dent on anything. Even Aurora helping didn’t do a lot in the grand scheme of things. Although, to be fair, it’s not like she can carry many at once.
We stare out at the rest of the garden. Occasionally, the other three farmers stare at us for an unsettling amount of time.
Why do you think they keep staring at us? I write, pulling the notebook and a pen out of the spacious pocket in the center of my hoodie.
Holly motions for me to hand her the notebook.
I’m not totally sure, she writes, but I’m a little more convinced about the whole shady aspect you saw in the scientists. I know we’re an anomaly, but not a whole lot of people seem friendly.
I nod, feeling the same way. At least Sola’s been a good friend so far.
When are we going to go see the scientists, anyway? I thought we were supposed to meet with them today.
I shrug. Fine by me.
“What are you guys writing over here?” Maggie asks, approaching us.
“Oh, nothing really. Since we’re from the past and all, we thought it would be a cool idea to jot down the stuff we find. You know, document how the future looks, what’s happening, and maybe how we can prevent it.”
“Smart thinking. Are you Holly or Tes?”
“I’m Holly.”
“What do you think of all this, Tes?”
“She can’t talk. She’s mute. That’s our second reason for having the notebook.”
“Interesting. So how’s your little rabbit work? What makes it tick?”
“We’re not totally sure. That’s what the scientists are hoping to figure out.”
“Yeah, but you had to have done something to get here, right?”
“Honestly, I think it was just random. I don’t think Aurora had control over it.”
“Hmm.”
She hovers around a bit longer as we get back to work. It’s uncomfortable, and a little suspicious with the way she watches us intently.
“Is there anything else we can help you with?” Holly asks, looking up from the field.
“Not at all. Have fun. Oh, and it would be quicker if you took the basket with you.”
“You know, that’s a good point. Thank you.”
Maggie leaves, but the stillness of the air lingers. Everything seems fine on the surface, but the tightening in my upper chest says otherwise. What are we getting ourselves into?