Chapter Two
The ten-minute ride was very bumpy and very cold, but it sure beat walking. Sam winced in pain over every bump, and at that speed, the wind chill must have been below zero, so he was thankful he was sitting behind "his" older brother on the vehicle.
They came to the edge of the woods, and Sam saw a small, modest home sitting in a fairly large field. It was white, with a large front porch and a couple of chickens pecking around at the foot of the steps.
As they pulled into the gravel driveway, a dark-haired man appeared out of the front door and stepped out onto the porch. He appeared to be in his forties, and although he was well-built and muscular, he had a bit of a gut hanging over his belt. "Billy! Jacob! Did y'all bring us back anything?"
Oh, great. Which one am I, Billy or Jacob?
"Naw, Dad," the older brother said. "Jacob fell from his tree stand, so we came on home."
Sam glanced up to the sky, Thanks for answering so quickly.
A woman, who also appeared to be in her forties, came running out of the front door. She had shoulder-length blonde hair, although Sam suspected it was not her natural color. She was rather thin compared to the man. "Oh, Jacob! Are you okay?"
"Yeah, the ground was soft, so it didn't hurt too much. I think I just need to go lie down for a while," Sam replied.
"You go on inside, hon, and get out of those wet clothes, too!" She seemed a little less worried than she was moments ago.
"Okay, uh, Mom," Sam tried. She smiled and kissed him on the head and then went back into the kitchen.
I just hope I can find my room. I wish people would wear nametags, even though this has been an easy leap so far, except for the fall. If only rooms had nametags.
Sam came to the second room on the right, just past the bathroom, and smiled as he read a sign on the door: "Jacob's parking only. All others will be towed." Thanks, again. He again gave an appreciative glance upward. He then went inside and closed the door behind him.
It was a small room, but with adequate space to move around in. Not enough for a party or anything, but Sam had a feeling Jacob wasn't into parties much. There was a bed with plain sheets and what appeared to be a hand-made quilt on it. There was also a small desk with some paper, pens, and a framed photograph of a young girl, probably twelve or thirteen.
Sam picked the picture up for a better look. She was pretty, in a plain sort of way. Written on the bottom of the photo in bubbly handwriting inside a heart was "I love you Jacob. Misty."
He put the picture down and found the small closet in the corner of the room. He pulled out some fresh clothes, changed, and lay down on the bed with a contented sigh. It was soft, but not so soft it sucked him in. Perfect. It didn't take him long to fall asleep on the warm, comfortable bed.