The cool breeze sent waves of color swimming across the landscape.
Anne, Tom, and Tiffany had reached a meadow a few minutes' walk from the farmhouse. Flowers of varying sizes and colors littered the terrain, giving the air a sweet smell. A small grassy trail wound through the flowers to a small tree in the middle. Tiffany led them down the path to the tree and Anne and Tom shared some quick ecstatic glances.
Awe and wonder beamed between them through their link. The excitement was almost palpable and the three of them giggled and shouted as they ran towards the tree, stretching out their arms with the wind wafting from the side. Tiffany swirled around when they reached the tree, fanning her pink dress.
“This is momma’s favorite tree. She planted it here when she was just a little girl like me.” Tiffany said as they looked up at the tree’s scarlet leaves that rustled in the wind.
“And these are momma’s favorite flowers.” She pointed to the base of the tree where some bright pink bell-shaped flowers were growing.
“Momma loves pink, just like I do!” Tiffany said as she hops in place.
“These flowers only grow in the shade of momma’s tree. It is what makes them so special.”
Tiffany dropped to her knees and closely examined the flowers as she considered which to pick. “We can only pick one,” she whispered as she held one at the stem.
“This one!” She shouted, and carefully picked the flower.
They decide to stay a while longer before heading back. Anne and Tom sat down back to back in the tree’s shade to take in the peace and quiet. Tiffany sat between Anne’s legs and rested against her chest smiling up at Anne with closed eyes.
I could stay here all day. This place is truly magical. I’m getting very excited to meet Tiffany’s mom. What was my mom like? I don’t remember, but everything here is so wonderful… why would I need to?
They sat in silence, enjoying the tranquility of the meadow as the sun slowly made its way across the sky. About an hour went by before Tiffany lazily got up. Yawning and stretching, they got up and followed Tiffany back down the path.
When they reached the farmhouse and skirted around the right until they reached the back.
A big gnarled tree was standing tall, casting a large shadow throughout the backyard. Thousands of small white blossoms decorated the huge tree and those that fell off covered the ground underneath. Against the trunk, a single gravestone stood.
Tiffany let out a few giggles and ran ahead, holding the flower high in the air. Though the flower was picked almost two hours ago, it still looked pristine.
“Anney! Tommy! Come quick.” She hurried them over. Tiffany was on her knees when Anne and Tom reached her. Her little pink dress got dirtied by the damp ground, for the grass grew sparsely under the tree’s enormous shadow.
Tiffany gently picked up an old and dried flower from in front of the gravestone and put the new flower in its place.
“Hello, momma!” Tiffany beamed.
“Look, momma. I made some new friends.”
Her mom. She is… I feel so sorry for Tiff. Wait. Do I?
I don’t feel sorry. I don’t feel sad. This is amazing. I’m so happy to finally meet her.
Anne and Tom knelt on either side of Tiffany. Tom was smiling wide. His excitement gently warmed him and Anne.
“Momma. This is Tommy. And this is Anney.” They both moved a bit closer as they were introduced.
“Say hi.” Tiffany urged them.
“Oh… umm. Hi!”
Anne said with a bit more enthusiasm than she realized. “It’s good to finally meet you. Tiffany can’t stop talking about you.” Anne said.
Tiffany laughed and playfully tried to push Anne over.
“Oh, thank you for the dress!” Anne gestured at the one she was wearing. “You made it very pretty.”
Tiffany grinned in agreement.
They both looked at Tom who was on his knees, silent. His face flushed bright red and he hurriedly revealed a small posy from behind his back. It had five small flowers of varying colors that he had picked on their way back from the meadow, and he gently set them down next to momma’s flower.
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It was then they heard heavy footsteps nearing.
“Hello, little ones,” John said from behind them.
John got down on his knees with a low thud, right behind Tiffany. She dropped back against him as he pulled her in closer, relaxed.
“Today’s flower is extra beautiful I see.” John’s voice rumbled.
“How are you today mum?” He murmured.
“We are all doing great. I’m managing with the farm and little one says my cooking has gotten better. We miss you though.” At these words, Tiffany looked up at him. Both smiled.
“Come little ones. Let’s go get everything ready for dinner.”
They got up after saying their goodbyes to Tiffany’s mom and brushed the dirt from their clothes. Making their way back around the farmhouse, Tiffany ran ahead as usual.
She disappeared into the house and came back out with two big straw baskets. Struggling not to let them scrape the ground, she wobbled up to her dad and handed him a basket. Tom held out his hand for the other basket and with a toothy grin, she handed it to him.
“We are having stew today. You know what to get Tiff?” John asked.
“Yes, papa.” She smiled and took Tom by the hand, and together with Anne, they set off towards the fields.
***
A crackling fire waited for them outside when they returned to the farmhouse. The sun hung low and blanketed the sky in a peach haze. A long table was set outside where John was busy preparing their stew. They set the baskets next to him on the table. They were filled with tomatoes, peppers, carrots, potatoes, and one big butternut. Anne and Tom sat down on the soft grass, exhausted from the labor.
“Thank you, Tiff. You too little ones.”
John motioned towards his throat.
“Oh! Yes.” Tiffany said and ran to the kitchen. A few moments later she emerged, carrying a stack of drinking glasses and a jug of water. John met her halfway and took the heavy jug from her, cupping her cheek to show thanks.
Tiffany set the glasses in a row and John filled them as she went.
“They are late,” John said in a flat voice.
“They should have delivered today.”
John took a glass and started sipping on it as he continued working on the stew. Tiffany grabbed a glass. Anne and Tom joined her and they enjoyed the cold drink after the hot day.
Darkness fell as the sun was setting. They sat down at the table outside and John set their warm stew in front of them. The wonderful smell wafted through the air making their stomachs growl in anticipation.
“Eat up little ones.” John smiled.
They enjoyed their warm meal in silence and John appeared deep in thought as he ate.
What a day. Anne thought.
The flower fields are so beautiful. And that tree.
I got to meet Tiff’s mother. I… I wonder what happened to her.
John seems to have taken us in, at least for now. It is a bit strange. He hasn’t asked any questions about our past or where we came from.
Not that I want him to. I’m not sure what answer I could possibly give.
Anne took a sip of water to wash down some stew and stared blankly in front of her as her mind wandered.
I feel so happy. All the time. This must be normal. I like this.
Anne’s head abruptly got flooded with questions.
“Umm… John?” Anne started.
John lifted a brow and a smile crossed his face.
“Where are we?” She asked.
“Like, what is beyond the farm? We don’t really know the area at all.”
“Well, let’s see.” John started. He moved his bowl aside and put a spoon down on the table.
“This is Myrtle Valley, where we are now.”
“The river that runs past the farm is the Myrtle river.” He said with a raspy voice as he traced a line with his finger down one side of the spoon.
“Then we have the small town of Pebblebrook to the southwest.” He moved his bowl to where he is describing.
“And finally, to the north.” He pushed the water jug in place.
“To the north is the capital. A metropolis called San Vehema.”
“Wow, what are they like?” Anne muttered. Tom was also listening intently and looked at the spoon and bowl as if they were going to morph into the actual places at any moment.
“Well…” John paused to think.
“Pebblebrook is about a twenty-minute drive from here, so it’s rather close. It’s a small town situated near the end of the Myrtle river. The riverbed is packed with fist-sized pebbles, which the townspeople have used since its inception to pave the roads winding through it.”
“We take them fresh food! Sometimes.” Tiffany added in a squeaky voice.
“Harr harr harr!” John laughed heartily.
“Tiff is right. That is also where we get most of our supplies from.” John added.
“San Vehema, on the other hand, is big. Truly big. Not much else I can say about it. I’ve only been there once or twice myself. Those tall buildings do not sit right with me. Especially since everything looks like it's about to crumble. I’m not sure what holds that place together.” John said while he moved his bowl back so he can eat.
“What is that way?” Anne asked and pointed in the general direction from where they came from when they found the farm.
“To the west?” John mumbled.
“Some old government area, maybe military. I’m not entirely sure. There have been some bad rumors about that place. Some say the zone has been abandoned or even destroyed by an explosion of some sort, years ago. We just stay away from it altogether. Entry is off limits anyway.” John said casually and continued eating.
Except for Tom and Tiffany making faces at each other resulting in chuckles all around, the rest of dinner was spent in relative silence.
A military area? Off-limits to people? What could all this mean? Anne thought. A hint of fear rose through her, but then it dissipated.
They all finished their last sips of water, taking in the sounds of nature around them. The birds that sounded throughout the day were now replaced with crickets and other nightly critters. After dinner, Anne helped Tiffany wash the dishes and Tom helped John put out the fire and pack up outside. It wasn’t long until they sluggishly got into their pajamas as their eyelids got heavy.
Tiffany was already in Anne’s bed when she crawled in, and Tom was sleeping soundly.
“Goodnight Anney.” Tiffany snuggled up to Anne.
“Goodnight Tiff.”
I hope this can last forever. I want to stay here forever. We can live here with Tiff and John, and there won’t be any more worries.
Ever again.
John sat alone in the unlit kitchen.
"That can't be right, can it?"
"Sixty-three years old."
"Must be dated wrong."
"Must be."
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