Chapter 104

When any awareness returned to Elijah, his thoughts were so muddled that he didn't know where he was. Or when. He vaguely thought he had been away from the farm. No, he had been to the long-abandoned farm. He listened for the windmill as he knew he had done before, but all was quiet. Too quiet, except for a soft hum in his head. Was he really dead?

He knew his heart was not beating, but that was nothing new. Nor was his lack of breathing. What he did feel was that he was cold and stiff. Was he in a freezer? He thought his eyelashes were frozen shut, but he managed to open them enough to see what was closest. He was lying on his abdomen outdoors and on grass. His head was turned so that he could see his right arm and hand. Dew of the night had turned to frost and he stared at the fine, intricate crystals on his fingers, sleeve and the grass. Although he had no idea of the time, he thought it was dawn just before the sun rose.

What sent a small shock through him was the idea that he was a flat, cardboard cut-out of himself, except for his clothing. He squinted at his fingers and tried to move them. They didn't move, and he was sure they were flat. Cardboard! Was he going to lie there until the damp cardboard disintegrated? Where was his real body? Anger surged through his mind. His flat brain? It was a wonder he could think at all. Although he could think and see, he couldn't move or hear sounds. He was so tired of these games. Would he ever find out who was playing with his life and why?

The person who found him was Freya, and in a moment, Claudette joined her. The women were returning from milking the cows and collecting eggs. Freya bent down and touched her brother's shoulder. He was cold and stiff.

"Elijah! Wake up!" she said, shaking him. Then she bellowed to the rest of the group. "Elijah's

here!"

She was startled when a baby chick emerged from under his shirt collar. How it had managed to survive the temperature over night was a good question because Elijah's body provided no heat. She gathered the tiny body up into her hands and offered it to Claudette.

"Put it with the others. Poor little thing needs to warm up," the older woman instructed.

Claudette took the chick that was making little peeping noises, and reluctantly left "her man." She hurried back after putting the chick in a safer and warmer place.

Elijah's hearing came back suddenly when the tromp of boots and shoes and the exclamations of the group surrounded him. Unlike usual, he was unable to turn down the noise volume of his hearing. Everyone's words seemed to be shouted.

He winced and tried to speak. "Stop yelling! I can hear you!"

"What did he say?" Barbara asked.

"I don't know," Kol answered, shaking his head. He looked at Rebekah and Freya, and both of them shook their heads.

"Elijah, speak a language that we know," Rebekah ordered.

"I am. Why don't you understand?" His lips were stiff cardboard and he could barely get the words out.

"Let's get him turned over and carry him into the house," the younger brother decided.

"Be careful! The cardboard is damp. My arm may fall off. For all I know, my body may disintegrate into a soggy pile of paper. Hey! Hey! Watch what you are grabbing there! That is not a handle."

"I wish I knew what he was fussing about," Freya said as she helped roll him over onto his back.

"I know," Claudette volunteered in her pidgin French.

"You do?" both Freya and Rebekah said together.

"My village. He wet paper." Claudette was picking up more and more English as time went by, and sometimes she knew the words she needed.

"Does that mean he was way over in Africa last night?" Wayne asked, raising his brows in disbelief.

"I think so," Freya said. "but the Keeper brought him back. What wet paper, Claudette?"

She raised her hands and then ran them down her own body. "All wet paper."

Freya picked up her brother's right hand, which had been rimed with frost crystals. "This is flesh and blood, Elijah. No wet paper. Maybe it's just cold and numb. And your clothes are the usual cloth. Do you understand?"

He wanted to nod his head, but his neck was stiff. He managed to say "yes" in Claudette's language. In fact, he was relieved when his body seemed to hold together as they picked him up and carried him to the house.

"He say 'yes.'"

"Do you want him on the kitchen table?" Rebekah asked before she moved to clear the table already set for breakfast.

"No," Kol said, and he suggested, "Let's take him in the bathroom. He's dirty. We have enough hot water to make a warm bath for him." Kol and Wayne then took their burden into the room off the kitchen. The women stayed in the kitchen to finish preparing breakfast.

As the men set Elijah on the floor and began to remove his clothing soiled with dirt, dead grass and leaves, and some bird droppings, Elijah worried that everyone was mistaken, that he was made of cardboard and would soon be soggy mush. On the other hand, he looked forward to the warmth of the bath water. Oddly, he recalled something warm against his neck and chin and he touched the spot, but he couldn't recall what it had been. He felt it was important, whatever it was.

Kol and Wayne both knew how to wash someone from head to feet, and now they got to work.

"You are so cold, Elijah," Wayne observed. He scooped up a pitcher of nice warm water and instructed, "Close your eyes. I'm going to rinse your hair."

Elijah did as he was told and enjoyed the warmth as it ran over his face and down his chest and back. He wished the tub were full, but there were only about four inches of water around his butt and legs. That amount deepened as his assistants let in more hot water from the faucet now and then.

Freya knocked on the bathroom door, opened it and put down a set of clean clothes for her brother. Then she returned to the business of preparing breakfast, which had been interrupted by the discovery of Elijah out in the back yard.

In a few minutes, the men came out of the bathroom. The older brother was dressed, although he was barefoot.

"I'm starved!" Kol announced. "How about you, Lijah?"

Elijah nodded and muttered, "Yes." He was very hungry. And it was good to feel defrosted, clean and dressed. Normal, in fact. Well, except for that odd spot up by his chin and throat. He reached up and touched it, and he was sure it felt empty, like something had been there that he liked, but now it was gone.

"You keep touching your neck," Kol said. "Are you injured?"

Baffled, Elijah just shook his head, but in a moment he touched the spot again.

Freya looked at Claudette and they both considered the chick. Freya nodded and the African woman left the kitchen. She went out to the back yard and to the chicken house. As soon as she opened the door, the little yellow chick dashed out. Claudette ran after it, finding it standing where Elijah had lain. It peeped and looked around.

"I'll take you to him," the woman said as she cupped the warm little body in her hands. As she walked toward the house, the chick looked ahead as if realizing where they were headed.

Elijah heard the chick's peeping sounds and he suddenly felt relief and excitement even before Claudette walked into the kitchen. He had a silly grin on his face as he reached his hands out for his little friend. The scene was embarrassing to him as he took the chick and held it under his chin, but he only cared that the missing piece was found.

"Now I've seen everything," Kol commented, shaking his head. "Have you even given it a name?"

"No, but I'll think of something," Elijah managed to say in English. "This isn't a regular chick. She may already have a name."

"What a strange thing to say," Wayne said. "And that isn't one of our chicks. This one is going to be white, like a Leghorn. We don't have any Leghorns. I'm sure you noticed all our chickens are red."

"Wherever I was and came back from, this one came with me. I recall seeing a white hen and some yellow chicks," Elijah revealed. "The little ones walked all over me and then left with the hen. This one stayed." He did not mention that he had seen the farmhouse damaged and deserted.

"This is not normal behavior for a chicken," Barbara agreed, as she watched the yellow baby bird snuggle against Elijah. "Maybe it's the Keeper!"

"Only if the Keeper has fallen in love with our brother," Rebekah said with a snort.

"In our situation, anything is possible," Freya agreed. "It certainly adores you, Elijah."

"I can feel it. She radiates feelings of love and confidence."

"She?" Kol asked.

"She."

"Just don't name her Henny Penny," Barbara said, pouring hot coffee into each person's cup. "Unless she tries to tell you the sky is falling."

They all laughed, even Elijah who secretly recalled seeing the damaged and abandoned farm.