Daryl sat down in a booth, newspaper in hand, and ordered a black coffee from a very prompt waitress. Despite it being almost ten in the morning, the little place had only two other patrons in it. He reckoned it was a slow day or their breakfast was shit. Eyeing the general grime of the place and the apathetic auras from the other customers, he guessed it was both. But at the very least it was food and shit food was almost always better than no food.
The waitress was back with his coffee and she looked at him expectantly for his order. "Just the uh," he glanced back to the greasy menu in his hand, "the In-A-Flash with a double order of bacon."
"Anythin' else for ya?"
"Yeah, you got a pen?"
The waitress pulled one out from the pocket of her stained apron and slapped it on the table. "Just don't take it home, it's my only backup."
No promises.
Daryl sagged into the uncomfortable booth seat and flipped through the local newspaper until he found the classifies. He scanned through them, his mind only partially on the task. With his borrowed pen he circled a few prospects. One in particular caught his eye and he put a star next to it before the waitress came back with his breakfast.
Definitely shit. He wasn't even sure the bacon had been cooked all the way and the hashbrowns were cold all the way through. With a grimace, he at it anyway. It was better than no food. He left money on the table and got out of the greasy spoon hardly ten minutes later, not wanting to linger there.
Outside the Georgia sun was shining brightly, but since summer was ending and it was still early it was a pleasant experience, rather than a grueling one. The October air was just starting to think about getting chilly and he liked the way it felt cleaner and refreshing. Daryl slipped back into his truck and pulled out the classifieds again.
ASST. FARM MANAGER
Need experienced person for regular
Work on medium sized cattle farm.
Must be reliable. Live-in position
Only. Contact Otis at…
Daryl lit a cigarette and picked up his phone. If he could kill two birds with one stone, he would.
A heavy-set guy was waiting for him when he arrived at the Green Acres farm.
"You must be Daryl," he exclaimed as he walked toward Daryl with his arm extended.
Daryl met his handshake firmly, but briefly, and nodded his head in affirmation.
"The name's Otis, but I guess you know that already since you called! Now you said on the phone you had experience at that ranch outside of Columbus? I called them up and asked about you. Other than you leaving 'em they only had good things to say about you, Mr. Dixon. And I like that."
Daryl stood there quietly, arms crossed while he listened to Otis go on and on.
"Just so you know, we are primarily involved in feedlot operations, but there will be occasions when you'll need to assist with calving. Is that gonna be a problem?"
He just shook his head. Not like he had plans or family to tend to.
"Good. You wouldn't believe how many people come out here expecting an easy nine-to-five kind of job. Ridiculous, isn't it? Well anyways, follow me. I'll give you the grand tour."
The farm looked nice, nicer than ones Daryl had worked on in the past. Probably because of how picturesque this place looked. It was like something out of a tv show of a farm, couldn't see none of the messy parts. He was sure they were there, but from the driveway it was straight out of a southern magazine. A long gravel driveway led up to a great big farm house with a wraparound porch. From here it even looked like it had a porch swing and rocking chairs. On either side of the driveway there were large pastures, at least one of them had a herd of cows that he could see. Otis was still talking, pointing towards the farmhouse and talking about the owner that lived there. He waved his hand in another direction and mentioned three other fields beyond their line of sight, one of them for the family's horses.
"This over here is our horse barn. Above it is where you'll stay if you decide to take the position." Otis turned to look at Daryl, trying not to scrutinize him too obviously. "But we don't want ya moving in just yet. We require a two-week trial period to make sure you're capable and we all get along. You know, before you move all your stuff in." Otis was trying hard to be pleasant, but Daryl could tell the man was unsure what to think of him. He couldn't blame 'em. He knew the effect that his appearance and demeanor had on most people.
"Mhm," he mumbled, in an effort to be pleasant.
Otis smiled a little and led the way through the barn and up to the loft apartment.. It was like he noticed Daryl wasn't keen on talking, and felt like he had to fill up the empty space with words and random, whistled tunes.
"The Greene's just put some new paint on the walls up here and bought some furniture from Dale's thrift shop down on Third Street. Do you know Dale? No? Well even with the furniture it isn't a lot or fancy or nothin', but Maggie did a fine job making it feel cozy, don't you think?"
Daryl looked around and thought he agreed. It was definitely better than sleeping in his truck, and unquestionably better than any of the digs he's shared with Merle in the past. It was so much nicer that it actually made him itchy with discomfort. It felt too good for him, to clean, too welcoming. Neither of those things were very Daryl-like and he couldn't really grasp living in such a nice arrangement. Thankfully Otis led him back down to the barn shortly, and was talking again.
"Now, one of the reasons we've been looking for someone is 'cause I have my own farm. Mostly its just hay and corn, but I've got animals too that need taking care of. I've been friends with Hershel, that's the owner, since I bought the land next to him almost thirty years ago, but I need to get back to my farm as soon as possible. You see, Hershel likes to do things his way, so he's always done most of the work."
Get on with it already.
"Well, his son just left for college and Hershel had a run in with an angry bull last week and broke his leg. The doc says its gonna be at least six months before his leg is reasonably well enough to start doing some basic farm chores. And I just can't be away from my farm and family that long! I think Patricia would skin my hide if I were. Since we don't know when he'll be all healed up and ready to go again, I can't say how long we'll need you. Hershel may decide he doesn't need much help after he's better, but he is getting on up there in age and I keep telling him to take a break… Just be aware that the situation may change come next spring."
Daryl talked, or rather, he listened to Otis talk for another ten minutes before he was able to get away without being a total prick. Then he was off, down the gravel driveway and heading towards a cheap motel for the night.
And what a motel it was. His lip curled when he walked into the room, and he slammed the door behind him. It smelled like a thousand stale smokes and lemon scented Lysol. Dingy, yellow wallpaper was peeling in some areas and stained from leaking water near the single window. He threw his duffle bag on top of a crappy wooden chair and sat on the edge of the squeaky mattress. Kicking off his boots, Daryl tossed his jacket to the chair with his bag. Then, with a noise somewhere between a sigh and a groan, he let his head fall into his hands. It was going to be a long six months. But he just needed to make some cash and then he could hole up in the woods for awhile or something.
A feeling similar to when he had been looking at the apartment came over him again. The scars on his back itched and burned, but he knew it was just in his head. For a few moments he sat there, willing the imaginary sensations to stop, but they didn't and he gave in 'cause he was a weak sonuva bitch. Rubbing them just seemed to intensify the burning though, and so he stalked to the bathroom and turned on the shower. Cold water poured out in a wide spray from the showerhead, and the pressure was surprisingly high. He stepped in and let the warm water pummel the scar tissue on his back, hoping the water would put out the fire under his skin.
Ever since Will showed up, Daryl felt like he had fallen into the twilight zone. A darker, more violent and terrifying episode of the twilight zone. Even Merle had been stunned into silence when they first noticed him at the bar. Daryl remembered the thin lipped smile that crept across their father's face as he walked towards them.
Neither one of you gonna talk? Ain't got nothin' to say to dear old dad?
Merle's hand clutched the beer bottle he was holding so tightly that his knuckles turned as white at Daryl's face felt.
Knew that bitch wasn't fit to breed. Ya'll were born without some fuckin' manners! Hell I shoulda-
Merle threw his bottle to the ground and leapt towards their old man, fists swinging and eyes filling with hate. Daryl was paralyzed, convinced he was looking at a ghost of a devil he once knew.
The water from the shower was running cold now, the little bit of heat it could muster gone as quickly as Daryl's long lost innocence. But it helped drag him out of his head. Nothing Daryl could do by replaying last week's events over and over again. He placed his hands on the tile wall, each of his palms centered in one of the slick squares, and let out a long, unsteady breath.
He was away.
He was away from Merle, from Will, and from his old, messed up life. He told himself that this time he was gonna live right, like decent folk should. And if that failed, he'd just go hide in the woods. He'd become that weird old guy that the local kids make up scary stories about or something.
Or something.
Daryl tried to focus on cleaning himself instead of all the shit that had been on his mind for the last three days. And for fifteen minutes he was able to relax and calm down without alcohol or cigarettes and it almost felt good. So good that when he stepped out of the shower, he thought he might shave his face before his first day at the farm tomorrow. Might help make him look more refined and like he cared about how he looked. He didn't, but he could pretend for a little while.
The next morning a smooth-faced Daryl left a gas station with a cup of cheap coffee and a bottle of water. He forced his mind to focus on looking for the Greene Acres sign, but he already knew where he had to turn to get to the farm.
Sure enough, just five minutes later he spotted it and flipped on his turn signal. If he thought the farm was picturesque before, he knew it was now. Early morning fog filled the shallow valleys across the fields, but the sun was rising and warming the fog away to wherever it went during the daylight hours. As Daryl pulled up to the house, he noticed flowers hanging from a few windowsills, and peach colored roses were growing along the rails. Damn place is a few bunny rabbits away from being a post card.
He also spied an old looking man with white hair and a cast on his leg. He was waving at Daryl to come over, so he did, assuming it was Hershel Greene. They made their introductions, and Hershel explained the day's usual pattern. "But Otis will stay until the end of your trial period, just to be sure we don't miss any spots in your training here." Then he glanced down at his watch. "Though Otis seems to be running a little late this morning…"
Their conversation, if you could call it one was interrupted by a voice inside the house that came floating through the large open windows. "Hey daddy, I made some tea but I don't have time to drink it," the screen porch door swung open and a petite, blonde haired girl stepped through it, a large mug in hand. "...before the bus comes." Her smile faltered a bit when she saw Daryl.
Hershel eyed her a bit curiously, but accepted the mug and tugged her a little closer towards him. His eyes twinkled as he spoke. "This is my youngest child, Beth. She's the only one still living at home with us, but she's off to Georgia State next fall to follow in her proud dad's footsteps!"
"Gonna be a vet just like you, dad," she said, looking a bit more at ease than when she first spied Daryl.
Hershel took a small moment to beam proudly at his daughter, and Daryl wondered what that felt like. He generally avoided areas where families concentrated, since mothers tended to look at him as a source of danger and trouble. And maybe he was, but he didn't like the way those moms would "inconspicuously" shield their children from him. Daryl allowed his eyes to move from Hershel to Beth just before their little moment ended. He knew she was the girl from the bar two nights ago and it looked like she remembered him too. This time her hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and she was wearing jean shorts and what looked to be a boy's zip up hoodie that was pulled over a plain white t-shirt.
"Bethy, meet Daryl. Today's his first day on the job." The glint in Hershel's eyes was still there as he joked, "You think he's gonna make it?"
"Hmm…" she gave to indication to her father that she had already met Daryl before today. He assumed that no underage girl wanted to tell their daddy they were at a bar. And that they had met a man who was throwing up in the ladies' room stall. And that he was the same man he was about to possibly hire. Girl wasn't stupid, that was for sure. "I guess only time will tell," she said. "But he looks tough to me, daddy!" And with that quick remark she popped back into the house a moment before popping back out again, this time a backpack slung over one shoulder.
"Have a good day, don't work hard," she warned playfully, giving Hershel a peck on the cheek. For Daryl she simply waved, having completely gotten over her immediate surprise at seeing him at her own house. "Good luck!" Then she was off, down the steps and half jogging down their long gravel drive.
Hershel chuckled and drew Daryl's attention away from the young blonde. "She's a blessing to me, that girl… Ah, I think I see Otis over there by the barn. Why don't you go meet him? I've been ordered to rest and drink this tea by Miss Doctor. She always knows when I've disobeyed!"
Daryl didn't know what else to do but nod, so that's all he did before going off to the barn. On his way there he contemplated the girl, mostly because he was so surprised to see her. If she was going to meet a bus with a backpack, she must still be in school. That didn't really surprise him, she didn't seem old enough to be a college girl. But if she was headed there next fall then she must be a high school senior. But both times he had seen her, at the bar and on the porch, she seemed like an innocent little thing. Daryl wondered what made a daddy's girl like her go to bars and lie to their doting fathers.
"Hey there Daryl, good to see you again. I'm a little late today, so let's just get started…"
Thank you to all of you who have favorited, followed, and/or reviewed! I hope you are still interested and enjoy this chapter :) If you do, please let me know with a quick review, it would make me so happy!
The song that inspired the first chapter was "Album of the Year" by The Good Life. I also hid a snippet of the lyrics in this chapter as well.
