The rain rolled sadly down the foggy glass. The carriage rocked back and forth violently as the driver yet again drove through a particularly deep puddle. The top of the pool's reflection made it difficult to gage its depth. The young man cursed as his body swayed with the carriage, knocking his head against the window he looked out of. The buggy steadied itself and he could hear the driver try to calm the frazzled horse. The man angrily grabbed a hold of the door's slim handle and cracked it open. Water atop the roof spilled in and wet his pants with embarrassing placement. The man cursed again. Putting his mouth close to the door, he yelled.
"Where the hell did you learn to drive? My dad hired you cuz you were the best! Why the frick do you keep running into pot holes?"
On cue, one of the front wheels rolled into a hole in the dirt road. The man in the cart was thrown forward from his seat and into the lap of the woman seated in front of him. She grabbed ahold of his silver locks as the carriage came to halt. Outside, the horse whinnied and the driver hopped down from his perch to assess the damage. The silver haired man swore a third time.
"Sweetheart, please, watch your mouth," sighed the woman exasperatedly.
The man just pushed his face out of her lap and threw the door open, storming out. The woman watched him and sighed as she pulled an umbrella from under her seat.
The man rounded the carriage.
"What the hell is going on, Winston?," he barked at the driver. Driver Winston was untying the horse from the carriage.
He grabbed hold of the reins and guided the animal, it was limping, to a tree not far off the road.
"I'm sorry, Master Evans, but it seems we won't be going much further," Winston said solemnly, with a faint Irish accent. He knotted the reins to a low lying branch and bent down to horse's front leg.
"Chester has twisted his ankle, I'm afraid," he said quietly as he examined his horse.
"Oh, the poor dear," said the woman, who was now shielding Master Evans from the light rain with her umbrella. "Do make sure he doesn't injure himself further, Winston. Poor thing."
"'Poor thing'? 'Poor thing'?," Master Evans mocked. "We're stuck in the middle of some God forsaken road, probably miles from the nearest town, and all you can think about is the stupid horse?"
The woman frowned at the younger man. "Express a little compassion, Soul. There is nothing we can do seeing as Chester is not fit to be walking." She left the man's side to shade Winston from the rain as he continued to gently turn the horse's leg this way and that.
The rain weighed down on Master Evan's hair and rolled off the tips onto his jacket. "And now you're calling the horse by its name," he sulked.
"Oh, shush," the woman chided. She stroked the hurt horse's chestnut mane. "It is one of God's beautiful creatures and we should treat it as such. How far do you think the nearest town is, Winston?"
Winston's knees popped with age as he raised himself to his proper height. He joined his mistress in petting Chester.
"I can't be sure, Ma'am, what with this fog and everything…but I believe I saw a sign just a ways back down the road there."
Master Evans followed to where his driver pointed and groaned. His shoes sloshed through the mud as he tread through the rain to find this sign.
"Honey, what are you doing?," the called after him with worry in her voice.
"Just gonna see what the sign says," he yelled back. "Wait here."
The woman sighed gloomily. Winston smiled at her.
"Don't fret your pretty self, Mistress Evans. The young master is a capable man," he reassured her.
Still watching after her son, Mistress Evans distractedly crept closer to the driver and did not stop him as his arm wrapped around her shoulders. She laid her head against his shoulder and he his head atop hers. Together they watched as Master Evans rounded the corner searching for the sign.
It was silent for a couple of minutes, save for the pitter patter of small rain drops and the horse's huffing. Then, the woman chuckled to herself.
"What is it, Ma'am?," Winston looked at her quizzically with a small smile of his own.
Mistress Evans beamed up at him. "Winston, you did not tell him there was a sign just so we could have a moment to ourselves, now did you?"
The older man laughed long and heartily, a trait that made him very sociable and welcoming. He laughed until tears welled up in his eyes and, upon seeing this, Mistress Evans laughed as well. She laughed at the youthful joy she always felt whenever she was with this man.
The fog had let up some as Master Evans jogged down the dirt path. A little ways in front of him, he could see a plank of wood nailed to a tree and hoped it was the sign Winston was talking about. The sooner they were in a warm pub the happier Master Evans would be.
He skidded in the mud to a stop in front of the plank and struggled to make out its writing. It was faded and appeared to be weathered down. Underneath it, he could see, was a smaller sign added, almost as an afterthought. This one he could read easily.
Beware.
"The hell?," he whispered to himself. What was he supposed to 'be-ware' of? He looked around at his surroundings, searching for anything that might give him more clues; skeletons, hanging bodies, mysterious beasts, that sort of thing. That's when he noticed it.
A tree that was standing behind this one. It jutted out slightly so it more diagonal to this tree than in a line directly behind it. And next to that tree, another placed the same way. And behind that, another!
And each tree had a small plank of wood nailed to it, each with one word painted messily on it. He read each word and then pieced them together. It was a message and a warning.
Beware the green girl.
A first look at a one shot I'm working on:D
Leave comments to tell me what you guys think!
The finished product will be posted when Don't Be a Stranger is over.
Which will be soon :D
Teehee!