A/N: Yup, this story has been real interesting to write so far. Amazing how the ideas connected together even though they have nothing
to do with eachother, really. I just had that I wanted to write about Space, and about Quakers. Space Quakers didn't seem all that exciting so...
oh yeah and all will be explained in coming chapters ;c)
(Volume: 1 Chapter: 3)
Chapter 3: rabbit
Julian was having a nice dream. A dream about Sofia, the one time she'd actually let him do something with her—back on Earth—a long time ago.
They'd had dinner at a nice restaurant—she'd had pasta, he'd had some sort of chicken dish that he'd never learned the name of. He missed chicken.
Too bad none had been taken when the world exploded in fire.
And, that night, she'd finally come to his room when he asked her. He'd been so…so…there were no words for it…he'd wanted it for years. He was amazed
that she'd let him. It was after Jay Guthrie had died in an attack. She'd needed something to distract herself, and apparently Julian was the perfect excuse.
He'd been slightly hurt, later, when he realized she still wasn't going to acknowledge him completely. The moment had been so perfect…she'd leaned forward,
and whispered to him…
"BA-KAWWWWWWWWWWWWK!"
Julian sat bolt upright, his heart racing, and the rooster fluttered away, leaving feathers. "Jesus Christ," he said out loud.
He threw the covers off and then tidied his bedding again, more awake than if he'd drunk a pot of coffee.
…
After breakfast, Sarah cleared her throat.
"Laura…I've chores to do today. Would thy kindly milk the cows?"
The girl looked up from where she'd been sitting by the fireplace, holding a big thing made of wire and wood. It looked complicated. Julian tried to blend in
with the furniture, hoping Sarah wouldn't notice he was still there.
"Perhaps Mr. Keller could help."
"…" Julian fiddled with the bread crust on his plate. "I'm…I'm allergic to cows."
Sarah tilted her head. "Aller…?"
"I get sick when I'm near them," he lied.
Sarah looked at Laura again.
"Mr. Keller, fear is not part of a Friend's life. Laura will show you how to handle the cows. We've not a nasty one amongst our herd." Sarah sounded resolute.
Something had passed between her and her daughter—he suddenly realized that the girl was moving her hands, something he'd been aware of vaguely, but not
paying attention to until now. Was Laura speaking some sort of sign language? The girl noticed his glance and briefly stuck her tongue out at him.
…
"Laura," he started, on their way to the stable. "I'm—can I just watch? Please? Or can I do something else? I'm really afraid of this."
Laura just smiled. No, she didn't smile—she grinned. She really seemed to find his fear of cattle funny. She kept marching towards the stables, a large bucket in each
small hand. He shuddered and trotted behind her, stopping every few feet in reluctance.
"Look—it has a proper, scientific name, and everything. It's called bovinophobia! I really don't feel good when I get near them!"
Laura snorted and opened the barn door, then stepped aside, waiting for him to enter. He froze. He was sweating already—he felt shaky—he could smell the cows,
their fragrance was cloying and evil…he backed away. Laura made a face and shook her head at him, then waved him in.
"Come on…Laura…" he said, more softly, giving her a desperate look. She tilted her head at him and smiled slightly. He realized he must have done that eye-thing girls
always said he did—something about opening them wide or something. She reached over, took his wrist, and jerked him into the barn. The door closed with an ominous BANG!
"Mm-hmm," Julian whimpered. He could see them now, and the fear was taking effect. Even after almost two weeks of being here on this farm or whatever it was,
he couldn't stop himself from hyperventilating.
Laura rolled her eyes and tugged on his arm, leading him towards one of the smaller cows. He tried to pull away when they got to the last few feet but Laura's grip
was surprisingly firm for her being smaller than him. She added a hand to his back—and pressed him right up against the stall door, so he was face to face with a
stereotypical, black-and-white bovine.
"I CAN'T—" he spun around, panicking, and Laura slapped him. Quite hard. The room spun and he held his cheek, stunned.
She was making motions at him. She looked upset. She shook her finger, then pointed to the cow, then brought her finger to her lips in a shushing motion. He
cringed—he didn't know whether to be more afraid of her or the cow at the moment. Which was ridiculous—as he'd noticed before, Laura was smaller than him—
by about a foot in height, maybe more; and he was used to getting hit. He'd been punched in the face many times. But Laura packed quite a punch…and he
couldn't very well hit her back. He had an old-fashioned rule about not laying his hands on women for destructive purposes.
Laura pushed him against the door again, forcing him to confront the cow. It was chewing something—grain--and it turned its head and fixed one enormous brown
eye on him. "MoooOOOOOOoo," the cow said in greeting.
Sweat was running down his forehead. He swallowed, staring at the cow.
"MoooOOOOOOoo," Laura said behind him. "Holy shit!" he squirmed away from her, absolutely convinced that a cow had escaped from a stall and was going to eat him alive.
She rolled her eyes, and stroked the cow's nose. She cocked an eyebrow at him, and beckoned with her finger. Her look said 'I have all day.'
He was obviously supposed to copy her.
Very slowly, Julian re-approached the stall. He curled his fingers on the edge of the wooden door and watched the cow, the hairs on the back of his neck standing
straight up. He couldn't do this. He couldn't. He could take a dirty punch, he could kill humanoids, he could lift trucks and small spaceships with his mind—but he
could not touch this cow.
Laura grabbed his hand again and brought it under the cow's nose. He felt the cow inhale and then exhale, a big, warm puff of air. Then she guided his fingers to
the cow's forehead and pressed them against it. It was warm, and furry, silky-smooth. He shuddered, and the cow shuddered back, eyeing him gravely. He didn't
move his hand, but didn't pull it away, too terrified now to move.
About three minutes passed, with the cow not doing anything. He began to relax—ever so slowly—his fingers moved against the enormous skull, and he stroked the fur.
Then the cow sneezed. His reaction was so extreme that he shot backwards and slammed against the opposing wall.
"HahahaHA!" Laura burst into laughter.
Julian sighed.
…
"Eww," he said, watching in sick fascination as milk squirted out of the teat between Laura's fingers. She was sitting on a small stool, with a bucket in front of her,
and she was grabbing each teat and rolling her fingers down, causing the milk to squirt in a straight line. It hissed as it came out and bubbled in the bucket, pure
cream. The udder looked like an overfilled rubber glove.
She looked up at him and smiled slightly, as if to say 'see? easy'. He was reminded of earlier, when he'd seen her signing something to her mother.
" Laura…do you speak with sign language?"
She raised her eyebrow at him.
" I mean…do you talk with your hands?"
She stopped suddenly, and straightened. At first he thought it was because she was surprised at his question, but then he realized it was because the bucket was full.
She pulled it out from under the cow, patted its flank, then nodded at him briefly as she grabbed a new bucket.
" Can you teach me?" he asked. Laura snorted and resumed milking. It was then—as she was leaning over on the stool, and he was on the side, watching her work—that
he realized he could see down the front of her dress. He looked away politely; he'd meant what he'd told her the other day. And although he didn't know her well, yet, he
felt more of a sibling vibe towards her. He liked it—he usually wasn't able to be comfortable with a girl, and be friends. Cessily was the only girl that he'd eve been able to
relax around.
Cess. He blinked, hard, and hoped what had happened to her could be undone.
Laura stood up and pointed at the stool to him, grinning.
…
That night, as he was washing off in the trough before climbing the ladder, he glanced at the door. He saw one big green eye watching him from the crack in the door.
And he was again without his shirt. He finished splashing the water onto his face, gasped from the cold, then began. " Laura—"
She took a step in. She was holding something in one arm—he stared. She was cuddling a small, black rabbit—very much alive—against her cheek, like a teddy bear.
It had long, floppy ears and a big spray of whiskers.
He approached cautiously, his curiosity piqued. "Is it tame?" he asked. Laura nodded. He reached out and touched an ear tentatively; it shook its head, its nose
quivering like jello. He had to grin—it was very soft. He was okay with small animals; he'd had pet mice himself, as a child. It was only the big ones—and only cows—
that he couldn't handle.
Laura continued to watch him, her eyebrows raised. He had the sense she'd brought the rabbit to distract him while she browsed; clever girl. For a few seconds he let her,
trying again to touch the rabbit and finally succeeding in stroking its head. It closed its eyes. His fingers brushed Laura's chin by accident, and she jumped at the touch,
her eyes going wide.
"I'm going to bed," he said. " Your damn rooster gets me up at like four or five every morning. It's always black out when he starts. You should have that thing checked out…
isn't it supposed to wait until daybreak or something?"
Laura smiled slightly and turned away, taking her rabbit out into the night. He shook his head, spraying water droplets; then pulled himself up the ladder.
