Page 8 of These Rough Waters

I managed to catch a few hours of sleep. Not a lot but enough that I didn’t feel like a zombie anymore. It was now the very early hours of the morning. Harper had slept the whole night, having fallen asleep not long after Ruthie had left us to it, and I’d locked the door. I’d unpacked a few of our clothes, sorting through what I had managed to grab when I’d hurriedly packed us up and ran.

There was an assortment of clothing, thankfully, because it was getting colder in Chicago too, most of the clothes at the top of both our piles were of the warmer variety, pants, leggings and sweaters. Some sneakers and boots too. I’d need to find a store to grab some hygiene products today, but we had some clothes at least to get through for now.

As promised, the rooster Ruthie warned us about starts crowing before the sun has even fully breached the horizon. Harper doesn’t stir though.

Curiosity has me placing down the clothing I was folding and moving to the windows. I’d looked out of them last night but was met with such darkness no amount of staring or adjusting would ever penetrate but now, with the dusty light of dawn, the sky turning from midnight black to velvety violet I could see the woodland that stretched out at the end of the yard.

It looked unbreachable, thick and dark and I wondered how anyone managed to successfully hike around here if all the forests looked like that.

Below, movement catches my eye and I shift my focus, finding Ruthie up and working already, a bucket of feed in hand as she scatters it across the yard for the chickens.

Luck.

It was pure luck I’d ended up right here. That I decided to stow Harper and I away on that boat. I guessed it was heading back to one of the islands, but I didn’t know which one. In fact, I didn’t even know this place existed.

I wait another hour or so before I decide to wake Harper. The sun had fully risen now, rays of light peaking through the crack I’d left in the curtain and more and more sound greets me through my closed door.

I was hungry. Curious too.

I didn’t necessarily feelsafe,but I also didn’t feel like I was in immediate danger here either and I wanted to go get some food, scope out the other residents here and maybe go into town again now that it was a new day.

Harper groans and tucks her face under the blanket, “Wake up baby, I smell pancakes.”

“Pancakes?” She squeaks, one eye peeping out from beneath the covers, “Do they have syrup?”

“I don’t know, maybe we should go find out before it’s all gone!”

She gasps, horrified, and throws herself out of bed.

I’d grabbed a shower and dressed already so I bundle my daughter into the bathroom, giving her a shower too and then she dresses in the pair of soft leggings and knitted sweater I’d gotten out for her. I quickly plait her long brown hair and grab some cash to stuff into the pocket of my jeans.

I didn’t know if what I’d paid for the room, covered the breakfast and I didn’t mind either way, but I wanted to be prepared.

“Oh, it smells yummy!” Harper rushes out, legs speeding up.

Chuckling, I follow her enthusiastic body towards the smell, finding a dining room set up like a small restaurant with a wall of windows that looked out into the gardens and the woods beyond.

We’re shown to a table by a member of staff and told to help ourselves to the buffet style set up. I don’t see Ruthie at all while we eat, Harper scoffing down as much food as she can manage, and I smile watching her.

It felt somewhat normal, like the last three days were in the distant past and while I had no doubt it would take a while to feel safe again, I could imagine it here.

This small little town on an island in the middle of the ocean.

Peaceful.

That’s how I would describe it.

Once we finish eating, we clear our table and head out of the dining room, running into Ruthie close to the large set of double doors that lead out into the back gardens, the sound of the chickens traveling through the open doors.

She smiles kindly, “Did you sleep well?” She asks, popping the tray of dishes against her hip.

“Great,” I lie which the wise woman detects, quirking her brow.

“I see those dark circles,” She chides, “Not had it easy huh?”

She wouldn’t outright ask but there was an underlying question.

What happened to you?

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