Dedicated to Laurss for making my awesome book cover for me! (Ask her if you want a book cover. She fantastic!) Thanks Laurss
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- C H A P T E R O N E -
I pulled the udder and squeezed it, letting the milk pour into the big blue bucket. I've been doing this for ten minutes and the bucket was still not half full. My hands began to get tired. I paused and sat back on my mini chair and relaxed for a while. The suns horrible rays shone on to my pale skin, as if it was trying to turn me into water. I fanned my face with my hand but it wasn't much use as it made me feel even hotter than I already was. Milky, the cow, mooed as I gently patted her stomach. She was just staring at the light blue sky like she did almost every other day and enjoyed the sun. That was the reason I milked her outside, because of her love for the sun.
I stretched out my arms, feeling much better and just as I yawned I heard a wild scream coming from behind me. I stopped yawning half way and then I instantly turned my head around and stood up when I saw what was happening.
"Somebody!" shrieked the man as he ran. "Help me!"
I stared at him as he ran across the field, not far from me, screaming his head off. He was wearing a dirty white shirt, covered in stains, a red, dirty hooded cardigan that was unzipped and his blue jeans were torn at the bottom and around the knees. He was also wearing trainers, covered in mud and his brown hair was all over the place from what I could see.
I laughed a little as he continued to run. What was so hilarious was that he was being chased. Not by a girl. Not by a boy. Not by a human. But he was being chased by a group of chickens and from the looks of his face, I could tell her was going to have a heart attack. Chickens were not scary at all but I guess not everybody loves them.
They were our chickens and someone must have left the gate open for them to escape again. I shook my head and folded my arm and my older brother, Harry, who is twenty three, came and stood next to me, also staring at the man that was being chased by chickens, laughing.
"Should we help him?" Harry asked me, turning his head to face me.
I shrugged my shoulders. "I don't know. I'm just enjoying watching this." I joked.
"Me too," he chuckled.
The man suddenly tripped over something and landed flat on his face and turned his body around so that his face was facing the sun. Me and Harry roared with laughter when the chickens pounced on top of him and from what I saw, it seemed like he was going to have a fit. It was getting a bit out of control now as the chickens started to peck on him so I decided it was time to go and help him instead of laughing at him.
"He could be hurt," I said, worrying a little.
"Who cares if he dies? It's not our problem," Harry said with no sympathy in his voice. "Laugh a little."
I scowled at him. "You are so heartless. I'm going to go help him." I began to walk, and then stopped and turned to Harry. "Can you carry on milking Milky?" I asked
"I don't kn-"
"Thanks," I interrupted him and ran. I knew if I stayed a second later, he would start to tell me how he didn't want to do it and then I would have to do it myself, leaving the poor man getting beaten by chickens.
"Rose-Mary," he called but I ignored him and carried on to walk towards the man.
When I finally reached him, I was out of breath. I was panting madly like a dog. I didn't know how he had all this energy to be running. If I couldn't run one hundred meters without getting tired, I don't know how he does it. He must be really fit.
I bent down, my hands on my knees and breathed deeply but I straightened up instantly when I saw the man was whacking the chickens off him with his hands.
"Hey! Don't hurt my chickens," I ordered. "Let me help you." I said, lowering my tone.
I picked up the chickens that stood on his stomach and put them on the grass and then did the same for the other three. I shooed them away and they ran in another direction in a straight line. The man on the floor spat out the feathers that were in his mouth and then I stretched out my hand and pulled him up. He muttered 'stupid chickens' under his breath, thinking I never heard him and then he brushed the feathers and dirt off his clothes but I really didn't see any point since there were hundreds of other stains on his clothes that looked really evil. They were definitely not going to be gone on the first wash.
"Are you okay?" I asked him.
I noticed the big bruise on his forehead. It was purple, red and a bit of blue and on top of the bruise was a long line. It was a pretty rough cut and there was dried blood around it. His cheeks were bruised as well. What on earth had happened to him? I examined him closely and wondered why he was in such a state. I was sure that the chickens didn't do this. They weren't that evil.
"I...I don't know," he answered.
"Why were the chickens chasing you?" I asked one question after the other.
He looked at me with a guilty face. I began to worry that he had done something really bad. "I...I stole one of the circle thingy that came out of their butt," he said, sounding like how a seven year old would speak.
"You mean eggs?" I raised an eyebrow.
"Yeah, I just forgot what they were called for a minute," He said, scratching his head. "Would you mind telling me where I am and what I am doing here?"
"Huh?" I said, confused. Why was he asking me what he was doing here? Like I would know. "Well...you're in a farm and I don't know what you're doing here."
"Oh," he replied, and looked down onto the ground. He seemed like he was lost and he didn't know what to do.
"Is there something the matter?" I asked.
"Yes. No. I don't know," he said. Well that really helped me to understand. This guy wasn't very good at answering questions at all. "My head hurts...a lot in fact and...Well I can't remember what...what I'm doing here or how I got here. I can't even remember how I got this bump on my head," he explained, pausing every once in a while and then rubbed the bump on the forehead. “What’s my name? Who am I? Why do I have this bump on my head?”
“Whoa, calm down,” I told him. “We’ll sort this out. I’ll go call a police.”
“No,” he quickly said. “Don’t call the police.”
“Why not?”
He looked at me nervously and sighed. “I’m…just no!” he said again. “I hate them and I’m…”
“Are you scared of the police?” I asked softly.
He didn’t answer me for a couple of seconds and then nodded slowly. “I just… no police.”
“Okay,” I said, understandingly.
I watched him put his hand on his head and cry with pain. “Ow, my head.”
“What’s wrong?” I asked him. “Should I call a doctor?”
“No!” He said quickly. “No doctors either.”
“Alright…”
I stared at his blue eyes and wondered, is it possible that he has lost his memory? I mean, I have fallen on the ground tons of times but I have never lost my memory but from the looks of his face, I don't think the fall has caused his memory loss. It seems like it was something much bigger and serious.
I opened my mouth to say something but I was interrupted by my dad, who was pretty eager to find out what was going on and why was there so much screaming and chickens running in a line. I prepared for my answers as he began to throw millions of questions at me.
"What was the catastrophe all about? I heard yelling and screaming like world war three had started," he began but I could tell he wasn't finished yet as he opened his mouth again to ask another question. "And what on earth happened to this lad here?"
"Answer one, this lad was being chased by a group of chickens and he...well let's just say that he isn't a number one fan of them," I explained and I could tell that the unknown man was embarrassed from looking at his face. "Answer two, I don't know."
"Are you okay?" he asked, sounding gentle and caring to the man. "Looks like you have had a pretty bad bruise and cut on your head."
"I'm fine. I think," he stuttered.
If he really has lost his memory then perhaps he could stay with us i.e., me, dad and my brother Harry for a while or until he gets better at least and starts to remember something. But the first thing I would have to do is get a doctor to check if he is alright or if he has actually lost his memory. Sometimes, they can pretend that they have lost their memory so it's better if a doctor’s appointment is arranged. I don’t care what he says about the doctors, I’m still calling them. If he won’t go there, I’ll just have to bring them here.
I turned to dad and pulled him away from the nameless man.
“Dad, what are we going to do?” I asked him. “He looks like he needs some help. A lot of help. The guy can’t remember anything. Not even what an egg was called.”
Dad turned back to look at him and then turned back to me. “Rose, we don’t know what we’re dealing with here. He could bad guy that has been beaten brutally and has been knocked out, causing this memory loss?"
"Dad, I doubt that," I said. "Besides, we can’t just ignore him. And I know he’s some stranger but we have to help him.”
“No,” dad said, sighing. “We’ll just have to hand him over to the police so they can find out who he is and-“
“Dad, he’s terrified of police,” I told him. “And doctors too apparently.”
"Rose-Mary, we can't just take him in," dad argued. "He's a stranger. God knows what his plan might be. He might try and kill us. We can't take that risk."
"But dad-"
"I said no."
"When I try to do something good you never allow me to do it," I said quietly and dramatically. "You never trusted me, dad."
Now I saw dads’ sad face full of guilt. It was working.
"Almost twenty years old and still can't let the daughter do something right," I carried on.
From looking at dads face, I could see that he was really trying to consider my idea. "Fine," he finally gave up. "He can stay here for a week and then he has to go. I don’t know how we’re going to find out where he lives or came from but…” he just nodded his head. “Take him inside and get him cleaned up. I’m just going to put these chickens back and…” he turned around and walked towards the chicken and started leading them back to where they belong. “Since you are so keen in keeping him, you can look after him.” He shouted from the distance.
Great. I have to look after him. So not fair. But in a way it was because it was my idea. Oh well.
I turned back to the nameless guy and smiled. "That was my dad, if you didn't know already."
"I figured."
"You can call him Tom," I assured him. "Anyways…um…can you remember anything that happened before you were being chased by chickens?" I asked, seriously.
"I can't remember anything. It's like everything had just erased from my memory and every time I try to remember, I get this uncomfortable feeling in my head," he told me.
"What about your name?" I asked, hoping he'd remember something.
He shrugged.
"Wait," I said and reached out my hand for the pockets on his jeans.
I patted them softly and unfortunately, there wasn't a phone in there. I checked the other pocket but there still wasn't anything inside them. Then I reached for the pockets on his red zipped hoodie but there was no luck but instead I had found a note. I pulled it out, ignoring his complaints and opened it up. I tried to read it but there had been mud smeared all over the sheet. I almost gave up but there was one thing that I could try.
"What are you? The police?" He asked.
"Kind of," I replied and carried on with my search. "Can I borrow you hoodie?"
"Yeah," he said and shrugged the hoodie off and handed it over to me.
"Thanks," I said quietly, concentrating on finding his name.
I checked the label that was inside the hoodie and luckily, there was a name. I sighed with relief and read the name. Eric Parker. The name was smudged a bit but I managed to read it. He must have lost a lot of clothes, making his parents now having to put his name on them.
"So, what have you discovered?" he asked.
"Your name," I turned to look at him. "Eric Parker. Does that ring any bells?"
He shook his head. Well at least his name was now discovered and I didn't have to call him 'the man' anymore.
"By the way, I'm Rose-Mary," I introduced, “And why do you have your name written on your hoodie like those school kids?”
"Well, Rose-Mary, it's nice to meet you," he smiled, “and if I can’t remember my name, I don’t think I know that either.”
Should have known.
"I should get you inside," I said.
We walked side by side and I suddenly remembered what had happened earlier, making me laugh again. Eric looked at me like I was mad but it wasn't my fault that it was so funny. I wondered why he was so afraid of chickens. I wanted to ask him but then again, I don't think I want to embarrass him. Too late.
"Why are you afraid of chickens?" The words spilled out.
"Um..." I shouldn't have asked that but the question was hard to keep inside. "They...they are kind of scary looking and the red thing around their head gives me the creeps."
I wanted to burst into laughter but I didn't because it was my fault he told me and I had to respect that way he felt about chickens. They didn't look that scary. I think they look funny and their feathers are so cool. His face was red and I could tell he wasn't so happy about telling me that. He acted like that was the most embarrassing thing in the world.
"Okay," I said, not knowing what to say. “That’s…cool.”
On the way back to the house, I saw Harry coming back to the house with a full bucket of milk. I raised my eyebrow, knowing he was up to something.
"What?" Harry asked me when he noticed me staring.
"You've finished milking the cow?" I asked with my hands on hips and he nodded. "And nothing's wrong?"
"Why would you think that?" He said, innocently.
"No reason," I smiled and I let him walk past and I headed towards Milky to see how she was going.
I stared at her when I saw what she was doing. She was having a little romance time with the bull, Mighty. A cow in love?
Well that’s something new.
I sighed as I watched them. I don't see why everyone, including animals, was always falling in love when it doesn't even last forever. I don't even think it's real since I have never seen or experienced it properly. Love was just a myth. I rolled my eyes at Milky and Mighty and sighed. If only love did exist.
After getting inside the house, I lead Eric into the living room but seeing that he was really messy, I couldn't let him sit down on the sofa so I told him to go and have a shower.
"I'm going to call the doctor and you can just take you clothes off and leave them it this basket," I instructed, pointing at the empty basket. "And then just enter the bath. One sec."
“Wait, which doctor?” He asked, slowly.
“The ones that check up on you and since you’re not going to go to the hospital, I’ll call him here.”
“Alright,” he said. “He’s the one you know and always call?”
“Um…yeah.” I nodded. “So I’m just going to get something so wait here.”
I rushed into Harry's room and seeing that Eric and Harry were the same height and size, I decided to let Eric borrow some of Harry’s' new clothes that we bought two days ago. I'm sure Harry wouldn't mind.
I returned to the bathroom with the clothes and hooked the clothes on the door hook. I showed him how to turn off the tap and he said he understood everything so I left him to it. But the minute he closed the door and began to walk away, I heard a loud crash in the bathroom, where Eric was. I turned around, worried that something had happened. I heard no movements in the bathroom but after thirty seconds I could hear his footsteps travelling the bathroom.
"Is everything alright in there?" I asked, shouting so he can hear me.
"Yeah," he answered, but I had a feeling he was lying.
"If you say so," I shrugged my shoulders, shook my head, almost laughing, and went to call a doctor to check up on him.
I dialled the local doctors' number and waited patiently for something to answer the phone. I could hear it ringing but no one was answering. My patience was slowly fading away and just as I was going to hang up, a deep voice greeted me through the voice. Finally.
"Hello," I greeted, "I need a doctor, possibly Dr. Harrison, to come over to check up on…a friend. He says he is having trouble remembering his past and who he is.”
“Dr. Harrisons is ill at the moment,” the man informed me. "Do you have any idea of what might have happened?" The doctor asked me.
"I presume that he had hit him head on something," I told him. "So will you be able to come?"
"Of course. someone will over within ten minutes." And with that, he hanged up.
***
Eric had finished doing his shower within in ten minutes and he changed into the clothes I gave him. He was now wearing a new pair of dark blue jeans and a black long sleeved shirt on top. He looked much cleaner, smarter and human. As for his old clothes, well, I threw them in the bin from looking at the state of it.
"So when is the doctor coming?" He asked me, fiddling with the belt on his trousers. Something looked wrong about his jeans but I couldn't put my finger on it.
"Any minute now," I replied, staring at the main door.
Just then, someone tapped on the door. I ran towards the door to see who it was through the tiny hole and it was an unfamiliar man. Was he supposed to be the doctor? Dr. Harrisons was ill after all and nobody else was expected but a doctor to be knocking on my door today.
The person outside did not look anything like Dr. Harrison. He was short, fat and he wore dark glasses, creating mystery. He had a first aid kit with him and other medical things.
I pulled open the door, standing face to face with the strange man. He smiled at me and greeted me with a simple hello.
"I'm Dr. Hartley."
"I’m Rose-Mary,” I told him. “Come on in.”
I made space for him to walk through the door and enter the house. I noticed him looking around the place a lot like it was the most beautiful place in the world. He walked towards Eric and shook hands with him.
"Is it alright if you leave the room?" he asked me as politely as he could. “I usually like to keep my checkups private.”
"Um…sure." I nodded my head and instead of going to another room, I just made my way back outside the house to get some fresh air since the house was making me melt.
I leaned again the brick wall, allowing the cool breeze run through my dirty blond hair and the sun shining right in my face. I closed my eyes but then I felt a shadow standing in from of me, blocking the sunshine.
“Harry,” I moaned.
“Why did you give Derek my clothes without asking me?”
“It’s Eric,” I corrected him. “And I thought you wouldn’t mind.”
“I don’t but when I realised you gave him my new underwear,” he paused dramatically. “I couldn’t do just nothing about that.”
“You should really be an actor someday,” I complimented.
“Why thank you,” he said. “And I’m kidding. But you owe me a new pair.”
“What, no? I’m not going to the men’s area to pick out underwear for you!"
“I mean money, stupid.”
“Oh,” I muttered.
Returning back to the house, the check up had been finished. I only saw Dr. Hartley clearing up his equipment and getting ready to go and Eric had disappeared. I walked towards the doctor and opened my mouth to say something.
"So, what did you find out?" I asked, curious to find out.
"I'm afraid to say but Eric has got Amnesia," he informed me.
"A...Amnesia, as in memory loss?" I asked stupidly, even though I knew the answer. I was kind of expecting to hear that.
"I'm afraid so," he said, sounding sad.
"What can I do to help him? You know, to get his memory back?" I questioned him
"Well...don't make him try to remember to hard and make sure he is getting a lot of rest," he advised. “And give him these if he gets any headaches. I’ll be back for regular checkups. There’s no need to take him to hospital.”
“Huh?” I said confusingly, taking the bag full of medicine. Why did he say that?
“I mean, his condition is not as bad…”
“Right. Er…Thanks," I thanked and we shook hands and he walked out of the house, saying goodbye.
Now where was Eric? I called his name but there was no answer. I called again and there was still no answer. I began to look for him in the house. My first stop was to Harry’s' room. I knocked on the closed door and waited for a reply. No one said anything so I opened the door and the room was empty. Then I made my way to the bathroom and the door was closed. I knocked on it but no one spoke. I opened the door and Eric stood there.
"What are you...?”
“You know, I was wondering why my trousers felt a little weird and tight,” he said.
“So did you find out why?”
He sighed, blushing a little. “I was…err…kind of’ wearing it the wrong way.”
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A/N:
I hope you guys have enjoyed that. Please give me feedback and tell me what you think of it. I also want to say a HUGE thank you for everyone who has made me a cover. There all awesome! And I have a question.
1) Are you afraid of a particular farm animal? If yes, why?
VOTE, COMMENT, FAN, LIKE, TWEET do whatever you have to do!