Ruby

Chapter Four

I wake up with a pounding headache. Stiffly, slowly, I sit up. I am not where I fell and hit my head. Someone moved me to the barn. Tons of questions swirl through my brain. Who moved me? Why? Are they friend or foe? Should I run? What if they can help me? What if they take me back?

I decide not to take any chances. I get up and run for the door, ignoring the throbbing in my head. As I run out, I slam into another body. Milk and bread go flying everywhere, soaking through my clothes, landing in my hair. The foods remind me of what they used to feed me back there, but not nearly so fresh. I brush crumbs off of myself, then take a good look at the person I just ran into.

He is tall, with sandy blonde hair. He is slender, but not scrawny. I can see that he is strong. A light dusting of freckles dances over his nose. But his most striking feature is his eyes. They are grey-blue, the color of a stormy sea. Right now, they have a soft, amused look in them.

"Now, look what you've done. You made me spill your breakfast. I hope you're happy," he says. His voice is low and soft. He starts to walk toward a house that I had not noticed yesterday. He stops and looks back at me. "Well, are you coming, or are you going to just stand there?"

I cautiously follow him to the house. He opens the door and guestures for me to go in.

"Ladies first," he tells me. I step inside, and the smell of fresh bread fills my nose. I am suddenly ravenous. I run over to a funny-looking container and throw it open, looking for food. I stick my hand inside, and I feel the heat radiating from it.

"Whoa, whoa, slow down there! You're going to burn yourself on the oven! let me help you!" He walks over and grabs a loaf from a rack next to the oven, where it had been cooling. He grabs a knife, goes to the table, and cuts off two slices. "Come sit down."

I do. He hands me one of the slices, and I begin to wolf it down. When I finish one slice, he cuts me another one without a word. I eat half of that slice, then stop.

"Do you have any butter?" I ask, remembering the treasured and rare treat from the prison.

"Well, look at that, you can talk!" he says, getting up from the table.

"What made you think I couldn't?"

"It's just that you've been silent this whole time," He replies, coming back to the table with the butter. I grin. He hands it to me along with the knife. I spread it onto my bread and wolf it down. "What's your name?"

I stay silent for a moment, trying to decide if I want to tell him or not. I decide that I will tell him some of it. "Ron," I say.

"Ron? that's your name?" He says. "Sounds kind of boyish, if you ask me."

"If you don't like it, you don't have to talk to me," I say defensively.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you. I'm David."

"David..." I say absentmindedly. Where have I heard that name before??

Suddenly, I feel sick to my stomach. I vomit everything I just ate onto the floor. Shaking with embarrassment and shame, I say to him, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..."

"Hey," He says gently. "It's okay. your stomach just wasn't ready for that much food. we'll get it cleaned up. I think I have some clean clothes you can wear. but first you need to bathe."