II. On the farm

…

Birch Hill looked run-down, as if no one had lived on the farm for many years. Using the key given to them by the employee at the town hall, Zelena unlocked the front door, which squeaked pathetically. Inside, it smelled musty and dusty. The furniture was covered with tarpaulins. Getting everything halfway back into shape would take some time and just as much sweat. She first checked the rooms on the ground floor before making her way up the creaking stairs to the first floor. The residence was more spacious than the farm they had lived on in Eastfield.

The pickup was unloaded quickly, since they hadn't brought many things with them. The suitcases contained clothing and personal items mostly. Freek immediately occupied the larger bedroom, which contained a double bed that was also covered, while Zelena carried the worn travel bag with her possessions into the smaller room under the sloping roof. The bright colors of the floral wallpaper had already faded, but the narrow desk in front of the window and the mended teddy bear lonely sitting on the sideboard let her know that this had formerly been a child's room.

"We need food," Freek stated after stowing the meager supplies of pasta, beans, and canned goods in the kitchen.

Zelena, meanwhile had taken the tarps off the furniture on the second floor and made the beds. Fresh cool autumn air flowed into the rooms through the open windows.

"Then write a shopping list," she replied to him curtly. The swirling dust made her sneeze.

While he sat down at the kitchen table with a notepad, she opened the jammed back door with some effort. In front of her was a wide fallow field where nothing had grown for a long time. On a part of the field she would be able to plant a vegetable patch next spring, like the one behind their old house in Eastfield. She circled the building to get to the small shed. Inside she found various tools and gardening equipment covered in dust and cobwebs. As she made her way across the yard, she discovered something else. Embedded in the ground, which was overgrown with sparse grass, there were stairs that led to an underground shelter, the kind you might need in Kansas if another hurricane were to hit. Before she could look around further inside, however, she heard Freek's harsh voice. He was standing on the porch with a note in his hand. She quickly fetched her old bicycle from the back of the pickup.

"Hurry the hell up. Bring the bill back!"

She took the list, as well as a few dollars from him, and skimmed over what he had jotted down in his scrawly handwriting. "In the meantime, you could at least clear the furniture in the living room."

Of course, she knew he wouldn't do that and wouldn't lift a finger in the house in any other way. After pocketing the note and the money, she swung herself onto her bicycle, which squeaked devotedly at first because the chain was in dire need of oiling. The cool wind blew through her open curls as she rode down the street. When she arrived in front of the small supermarket, she noticed a note on the store door indicating that a warehouse employee was wanted. Hastily, she went through the list and collected everything on it. In front of the candy shelf, she hesitated. Freek would get upset, but her appetite for the triple chocolate cookies, which were her favorite, ended up being greater. She didn't resist to put a package of them into her shopping basket. Finally, at the checkout counter, she asked the employee about the open position. The younger woman directed her to the office, where she was invited in by a tiny, well-groomed man in a suit.

"I've never seen you at the store," he remarked after she introduced herself and told him her request. "I remember every face and all the residents come here from time to time."

"That's because I just moved into town. I don't know Storybrooke yet and I really need a job. I can work hard, even though I may not look so." Zelena was aware that her slender figure did not suggest at first glance that she was quite strong and enduring.

The little man, who had a broad friendly face, nodded. "Very well, bring me a copy of your ID, your resume, and any references from previous employers. If your records are proper, we can arrange a trial period, Miss West. I can't offer you a full-time position, though."

"That's all right," she replied, a little disappointed. For the beginning this has to be enough for Freek and her to get by.

"It has come to my attention that Hook at the Rabbit Hole is looking for a waitress right now for a couple of nights a week. Maybe he hasn't found anyone yet." He described the way to the pub to her, which was located in a cross alley to the main street. "It's closed today though, for it's Monday. Otherwise, Hook… I mean Killian Jones can always be found in his bar in the evenings."

Zelena thanked him for the information and said goodbye to the shopkeeper, who had a good-natured face with many laugh lines around his eyes, as if he was always cheerful. A glance at her wristwatch told her that she better had to hurry, before Freek would lose his patience. Hastily, she stowed the groceries in the basket on the handlebars and got onto her bicycle. As she pedaled fast along the fences by the fields on her way back, she noticed a gray speckled horse chasing across the meadow with its mane blowing, effortlessly flying over obstacles of straw bales and barrels. On its back she recognized the mayor, who had introduced herself to them in front of the town hall. Fascinated, she stopped, whereupon the rider parried her mare and slowly approached the fence.

"Hi, Miss West," she said with as much dignity as her whole demeanor eradiated. "Does the farm meet your expectations? It's been empty for a long time, so it will need some fixing up. If you need a good handyman, you should contact our local carpenter Marco, he can fix about anything."

Zelena nodded politely. "Thanks for the recommendation. The house is more spacious than our previous one in Eastfield. It just needs a thorough cleaning and we'll be fine."

"I hope you and your husband will be comfortable. Storybrooke is a quiet peaceful town where people know and help each other." She patted her horse's neck, who snorted softly.

Part of Zelena wanted to retort something, but she knew what she'd face if she revealed too much, so she kept her mouth shut. "I'm sure we will. I have to go on, Freek is already waiting at home. After the long drive, we're tired and hungry for now."

"I can imagine. Kansas isn't exactly around the corner." The mayor faced her intently with an expression she couldn't read. Something about this woman irritated her without her being able to put her finger on it. She seemed so cool and distant on the outside, while her deep dark brown eyes told a different story.

The conversation had cost her time, so Zelena hurried up and sped down the road on her bike so fast that she arrived in front of the farm completely out of breath. When she entered the house, holding her hand against her violently stinging chest, Freek was already impatiently waiting for her.

"There you are, dawdling as always," he complained loudly.

Zelena felt her hands begin to tremble, so she closed her fingers tighter around the bag with the purchases.

"Give me the change," he demanded, as soon as she set her load down on the kitchen table. Hastily, she pulled a crumpled banknote and a few coins from her jeans pocket, whereupon his brow rose dangerously. "That's all? Did you buy unnecessary stuff again?"

In response, she thrust the bill into his hand and began to clear out the groceries under his scrutiny. As she took out the package of her favorite cookies, she inwardly prepared herself for his reaction.

"I didn't write those down!" he intoned, slapping onto the kitchen table in front of her with his flat hand. "I always tell you not to spend the money on such nonsense that will only make you fat, don't I?"

The blow of his elbow against her chest came not unexpected, but it still made her stagger back, gasping, until she felt the refrigerator door in her back.

"I wish you'd be as frugal with your damn booze," she retorted, knowing in an instant that she should have held her tongue. His fist hit her in the ribs so hard she doubled over in pain and gasped. Before he could strike again in his rage, she protectively crossed her arms in front of her dully throbbing body.

"You never learn, stupid child. Stop whining and get dinner on the table. I'm hungry for fish sticks!"

She breathed a sigh of relief when he stomped out of the kitchen, allowing her to stow the rest of her things on her own. Then she quickly started to prepare the meal he had requested and also some salad for herself. He loved fish sticks, but the smell was already making her nauseous. He anyway wouldn't let her have any of them, after he had just gushed about her figure. He always found a reason to bully her. The meal satisfied him and she was glad that he afterwards fell into bed completely overtired. At least this evening she wouldn't have to deal with him. She also was exhausted, but before she could go to sleep, she had to clean up the kitchen and unpack the rest of her things. The following day, she would first have to do some major cleaning to get the dusty rooms livable. He would not help her with that.

Stowing her clothes in the closet, she came across the well-worn box she had wrapped in a thick woolen scarf. Inside, there was an old yellowed photograph that she loved above everything else. She slightly smiled as she looked at the happy face of a young woman with a small three-year-old child sitting on her lap. This was the only picture she still had of her mother. With her long shiny hair and flawless skin, she had been so beautiful. Zelena looked nothing like her, which she deeply regretted. The girl with the cheeky braids that she had once been grinned broadly at the camera. Carefree and clueless about what future awaited her, she played with the pendant around the woman's neck. Carefully, she took the silver gem out of the box and gazed at the shimmering emerald stone. Her mother had given her the necklace before she died, and since then she hid it away so Freek wouldn't think of taking it from her. She opened her diary, which she also kept in the box, and flipped to the end of the pages she already had filled. With a ballpoint pen, she noted the date in the top corner before writing down three sentences below it.

Storybrooke is just a lonely nest in the middle of nowhere again. People think they know everyone else and have no idea what skeletons the nice neighbor has in the closet. Nothing will change in my screwed-up life here either.