Page 4 of An Alien for the Farm

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ELEANOR

Xarion left about half an hour after I first stepped into the house. Walking around, I made sure everything seemed okay before I gave him the go ahead and with another bow, he took the two oogas with him and made his way outside my gate. My gate.

Everything here is mine.

These stone walls. The land. The animals. Everything.

It’s almost too good to be true. Almost too hard to believe.

Grabbing the hem of my dress, I do a spin in the little front room which I know I’ll designate as the living room. It’s small but it will be perfect for hosting guests. That is, if I make any friends. Who knows, I might be here alone for the rest of my life. I’ve already made peace with that and the thought doesn’t make me feel so hollow anymore. Not like it did after I signed those divorce papers back on Earth.

I sigh, pushing the thoughts away. No use dwelling on the past. All it does is drag you down.

Hands on my hips, I stop spinning, another huge sigh making my shoulders rise and fall as I look around the room. What should I tackle first? I’m tired from the journey, but there’s the energy of excitement in my veins. I want to do something. Anything.

I head to the bedroom first. There’s a little bed there, about the size of a double bed and it takes up most of the room. Looking at the walls, I know I’ll have to buy some kind of compound to smoothen it out so I can paint it maybe. I’m already thinking of what color I want it to be.

I choke on a laugh. A pink house on the prairie. A whoop leaves my lips, echoing in the empty house and I throw my hands up and whoop again. A pink house on the prairie! Who the hell is going to stop me? Tell me it’s a stupid idea? No one! If I want to turn this into a doll house and live like a child, I can! If I want to build myself a sanctuary with all the little things I like, I can!

There are no neighbors to judge me. No man to tell me what to do. No one to answer to but myself. The freedom of it all rushes through me like a gust of wind, filling my chest with a sense of possibility I haven’t felt in years.

I decide to start with the bed. It’s dusty and the mattress is old, but it’s a beginning. I strip off the ancient linen and carry them outside, shaking them out in the fresh air. The sunlight is warm on my face, and for a moment, I close my eyes and just breathe it in.

Back inside, I rummage through the supplies the New Horizons Initiative provided. There are basic cleaning tools, some bedding, a new mattress, and even human-like cutlery no doubt made specifically for me. I smile, feeling a little more optimistic. This is going to be my sanctuary, my place of peace.

As I clean, I hum softly to myself. The rhythm of the work is soothing, and before I know it, the bedroom starts to look more inviting. I make the bed with the new mattress, fresh sheets, and a colorful blanket I found in one of the supply crates. It’s not perfect, but it’s mine.

I move to the main living area next, deciding to tackle the windows. The view outside is breathtaking, with rolling plains stretching as far as the eye can see. The sun is beginning to set, casting the landscape in hues of gold and pink. I can already imagine sitting here in the evenings, watching the sky change colors as I sip tea.

I watch the sunset for a few moments till the weariness of the day begins to catch up on me. With a sigh, I make sure the door’s locked before heading back into the house. The bathroom has a tub! It’s a strange shape, circular instead of what I’m used to, but I shrug, filling it up. The water’s warm and I strip down and slide in, fingers tracing the intricate patterns along the side as I wonder what species lived in this house so long ago and what happened to them. Despite the disrepair, it looks like a house that was lived in and loved. I hope I can keep it the way they would have liked, preserving the sense of warmth and care that permeates the place. I want to honor their memory, too, by making this house a home once again, filling it with love and life.

The water soothes my aching muscles, and I tilt my head, letting the day’s events wash over me. That’s when I notice the hole in the ceiling. It’s right above the bath, giving me a glimpse of the darkening sky as the sun goes down. Well, that will need to be fixed.

As I relax, my eyes start to pick out other details that need attention. The edges of the window above the sink are cracked and weathered, allowing a draft to creep in. There are patches of mold in the corners where the walls meet the floor, and my skin crawls at the sight of them. Definitely need to get rid of that.

After my bath, I dry off and wrap myself in a towel, stepping back into the bedroom. Some of the floorboards creak when I walk and though I didn’t notice the sound before, I do now. I also spot four or five more holes in the thatched roof. Not surprisingly, the boards on the floors directly underneath these holes are the ones creaking. A few even look completely rotted out. If the rain falls…

There are probably even more serious repairs that I haven’t even noticed yet. Naked, I let my bits hang out as I head toward the pack of stuff New Horizons left. I grab a robe and shrug it on, biting my bottom lip. I can’t get discouraged. This is my project; my fresh start. I don’t have to fix everything all at once. I can take it one step at a time.

I find the communication device and bring up the note app. Thankfully, it’s simpler than the smartphone I had back on Earth. My list starts to get long in no time and I know I’ll have to prioritize the most urgent repairs first.

Only, I don’t have a clue how to tackle the roof on my own.

I bite my lip again, squinting up at it. No way I’ll be able to climb up there to even patch it with some plastic to hold me over. “And I have no clue when it’s going to rain. Shit.”

“Getting weather information for your coordinates.”

I almost jump and drop the little device. “What now?”

“Clear skies for the next three sols. Mild winds and rain in the next four sols.”

“Shit.” I stare at the little device. Four days before rain? I bite my lips again, rolling it between my teeth as I stare up at the roof. No way I’m going to be able to patch it when I couldn’t even climb on top of an ooga.

I could call Xarion, but his job was to bring me here, not help me restore the place, too.

I sigh. I’m going to need help.

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