Surviving Winter
Chapter 2
Important Things
What was with this town and having delicious food?
Two days after her excursion she sat at home, trying to clean the dust covered house thoroughly was a chore, but it needed done. She had taken a break to have a sandwich, and the one thing that stuck out at her was the tomato slice she had slid next to the ham and cheese. She tore the sandwich apart, picking up the juicy red slice of fruit and tasting it on it's own, delighted in it's light and crisp flavor. It had to be the best tomato on this side of the country, at least. She remembered the pastry shop she had passed on and vowed to do good on her promise to visit it. If it was anything like the grocer's shop or the cafe than this had to be the best move ever.
She finished her lunch, feeling a strange sense of being energized, and looked around. Still so much work to do. She found that the house didn't have electric heating but a large wood-burning fireplace in both the upstairs master bedroom and the living room. The first thing she did yesterday was chop enough wood to last her a week, she hoped. It wasn't quite cold enough to not stand it yet though, so the fireplace burned low. She vaguely debated how to furnish the house...she had good money, but doubted Yao Wang had enough time to custom build an entire farmhouses worth of furniture. A table, some chairs, and a couch had been left in the place, but the table was firewood as far as she was concerned and only one or two of the chairs would last much longer. The couch was nice, but dusty and a little too dated for her taste. Maybe she could sell it and buy a new one. The kitchen was at least updated, a newer model fridge and oven seemed to be separate entities from the rather dated but still nice counter tops. A dishwasher wasn't really necessary since it was just her, but maybe sometime. She could always paint the kitchen if she wanted it to look a little better.
A gentle knocking ripped from her decor thoughts. Curious, but lacking anxiousness, she approached the door, counting the squeaky floorboards on the way. The wood was heavier than a normal door, and the handle was old. More things to add to the list.
The auburn haired street artist stood at her porch, his feet skewering his stance and his shoulders drawn up defensively.
"Ah - you - oh -" His jaw seemed to stop working.
"Hi...again..." Was all Columbia could think to say. She was a little surprised to see him again. A running car sat in her driveway, the darker haired young man from the grocer shop sitting in the drivers seat. Not the Spaniard, she recognized. He looked a little angry.
"Um...the ad..." The high-pitched voice squeaked.
Columbia's lips tightened, and she had to actively stop herself from saying something insulting. He didn't have the muscle she needed, but at the same time...she sighed. "Yeah. Come in."
His face lit up, and he turned to the waiting car, waving. The man in the car drove off without so much as a signal.
"So what's your name?" Columbia asked, already moving to the kitchen to dig through the drawers for rags.
"F-Feliciano Vargas." He fidgeted in his clothes. They seemed to be pretty worn and dirty. She looked him over again. Was he going to cry?
"Why are you shaking?" She asked, shoving some cloth in his hands.
His shoulders jumped and he flinched, looking up at her with liquid amber eyes. "I'm just a little nervous, veee... Jobs...jobs are difficult for me." He twiddled his fingers, twisting the cloth in his hands.
"I see..." She frowned. She needed someone with a little more confidence, but so far he was the only one to answer her, and he at least arrived rather promptly. "Well. My name is Columbia. Columbia Marsh." She held her hand out to him, and he hesitantly accepted.
"Wow...you're so strong!" He exclaimed, his face breaking into a smile. Did that curl on his head just rise a bit?
"I do alot of work." She shrugged, not really sure how to handle the strange small man. He had to be older than her, but he acted so unsure. "Anyway, this is mostly just a cleaning job, for now, so there's nothing to be worried about. Just be careful of the fire place...I have some wood burning. There isn't electric heating..."
"Oh, it's fine. I think it's nice and toasty in here, vee~~." He grinned, nodding exuberantly. "So...what am I doing...?"
"Cloths. Rags. And this." She grabbed the aerosol can from hearth, tossing it to him. He barely caught it. "Dust anything and everything you can. There's a bucket on the back porch to clean the rags with. There isn't enough laundry to run the washer so I've just been doing 'em by hand."
"Veee, really? That's alot of work..." He looked around the house. "This whole place is all to yourself?"
She frowned. "Yeah, I know. It's a little big. But it was cheap, and the land is good, so..."
"It seems lonely." He observed sadly, and letting his features fall.
"It suits me." She replied. She knew he was right, and the statement clung oddly to the front of her brain. "You're being paid on the hour. Get started whenever you want. Oh..." She turned to face him. "The master bedroom, which I've already put a sign on, is OFF limits. It's already been cleaned anyway, so don't worry about it. Understand?"
He nodded weakly. "Si..." Staring at his can and cloths, his looks seemed to falter even more.
Columbia grimaced. She felt guilty and didn't want to. He really did look pathetic, with his worn down jacket and jeans, his belt looked like it was about to fall apart and his boots had holes in them. She had more important things to worry about though. Like fixing the fences outside.
Yeah. That was more important, right?
Columbia's thickly gloved hands held the nail and hammer carefully in place. The fence was a wreck. It would be a good while before she could go and buy any animals to put in the barn, which needed cleaned out and fixed as well. It was weird though, the barn was actually in better condition than the house. If she worked a solid two or three days the fence could be in working order, then it could be painted. The sun had begun to dip already, the light disappearing fast over the horizon. Had it gotten so late already? Her stomach growled. Sighing, she dropped her hammer into the large jar of nails and made her way back to the house with it. Her land was large, and she began to doubt managing the place by herself. Maybe if she could get Feliciano to bulk up a bit he would stick around as permanent help...
"Feli?" She called going through the back door. She couldn't remember his full name at that very second. He didn't answer. "Feli!" She called again, and the padded footsteps rushed towards her.
"Ah- I'm sorry I'm sorry!" He cried, half falling forward and grasping the wall, and she looked at him quizzically.
"Sorry for what? Did you break something?"
"I...uhm. No." He admitted sheepishly, looking rather foolish as his shoulders drew back up.
"Did you...do something wrong...?" She pressed, pulling her gloves off and hanging up her jacket on the nearby coat rack. She noticed the knees of his pants were coated in dirt. His hands were dirty too. Dust sprinkled his auburn hair.
"I...don't think so. I just...veee...you sounded angry." He had started shaking again. What was with this guy?
"I'm not angry. Anyway it's getting late. I'm hungry. How goes the cleaning?"
"Good...I think."
"Let me see." She moved past him briskly, causing him to flinch back. The back door opened into a small hallway that had a half bathroom under the stairs, opening up into the kitchen and dining on the left and the rather large living room on the right. "Whoa." She stated, checking the shelving and woodwork. The walls were scrubbed clean and dust was near non existent save for the floor. "Good job." She stated.
He blushed silently.
"Get upstairs any?" She inquired.
"Veee...just the bathroom."
"Stay." She commanded, earning another flinch from him. The upstairs bath still needed a bit of work, but that was expected since she had no window or glass cleaner. Buying a good mop would be in order soon.
She trotted down the stairs. "Good, good. Let's eat something."
"Er..." He frowned, unsure. "You mean...both of us?"
She glanced over her shoulder. "Yeah."
"Oh..."
"Don't act so excited, it's just microwave chicken." She was starting to get annoyed. It wasn't that he wasn't nice or anything, he just looked so...hurt. He needed to cheer up before she went nuts.
"Vee...thank you." He followed her into the kitchen.
"So what does that mean anyway?" She asked as she retrieved enough frozen veggies and chicken from the fridge for two.
"What does what mean?"
"That 'vee' thing you're always saying." She brought down two plates and poured generous servings of veggies on them. "I mean, I'm not very well versed in other languages. I'm not even sure what nationalty you are to be honest..." She frowned at herself, as if chewing her own words. "Sorry. I'm pretty blunt sometimes."
"Ohh..." His head tilted slightly. "I'm not sure why I say it. But it doesn't mean anything...it's just me...and I'm Italian."
She felt like smacking herself. "I should have recognized that..."
"It's all right." He shrugged.
She looked him over again, then pointed to the kitchen sink. "You're hands are pretty dirty. You should come over here and wash up."
He looked at his hands, as if realizing for the first time how grungy they were. "Probably..." He slunk over, cautiously moving to the sink to wash his hands.
"...You're awfully jumpy. Are you all right?"
"Veee, si si." He said rapidly, nodding his head. "I'm fine. It's always like this for me."
Columbia narrowed her eyes. That kind of attitude just made her mad. For a moment the only noise she heard was running water and the sound of the microwave. "Go sit at the table." She finally stated harshly after the water had run a moment too long.
"Oh, yes, of course." He clumsily dried his hands with semi clean towel from the counter before practically tiptoeing to a seat at the shoddy table.
The microwave beeped, signaling the finished meals. Columbia almost let the plate fall in front of the strange Italian, shoving a fork and knife in his hand.
"Careful. Might be hot on the outside and cold on the inside."
"Ahaha. Yeah. It's always funny how microwaves do that..." He bit into the chicken hungrily.
Columbia watched him. He ate like he was famished. "So who's the guy that dropped you off?" She asked casually, picking at her chicken with her fork.
"Hmph?" His mouth was full, and he had to wait a moment to speak. "My big brother, Lovino."
"I noticed you have similar hairstyles." She pointed to the odd curl spiraling upwards.
"Yeah...that..." He shoveled another bite of vegetables in his mouth.
"When's the last time you ate?"
"Um..." A weird silence. Not awkward, just...off. "This morning?"
It sounded like a lie. "All right." The chicken was nothing like the chicken salad she had at the cafe.
"So where are you originally from?" He asked, throwing her off.
"Um. Well..." She didn't expect him to start asking questions. Then again, she did not realize just how inquisitive she had grown. "Ohio."
"Oh, is it nice there?"
"Can be. It's wide. And flat. Kinda dull."
"So why'd you leave?"
"...Change of scenery." She stated reluctantly. It was a half truth, but still.
They both grew silent.
"So is your brother coming to get you?" She asked.
"Oh...I should call him."
"Phone's on end table in the living room."
"Si, I cleaned around it..."
"Oh. Of course. Oh, hold on..." She dug out her wallet from her pocket, Feliciano looking over curiously. She plastered three twenty-dollar bills onto the table. "Thanks for the hard work."
He shakily accepted the money, nodding.
"Go call your brother."
She watched as the mousy man rose from his seat and make his way to the other room. His plate had been nearly licked clean, not even a single pea left. She sat back in her chair, brain itching about Feliciano Vargas and the rest of the odd town.
In two weeks the dust was nearly gone, the floors shone and the smell of lemon cleaner had replaced the mustiness. Columbia collapsed on the couch, which was new. A thick fluffy couch that you could sink into, with reclining seats on either end. "Ah...good job, Feli." She said as she sank in the cushions.
He fell to his side, his head hitting the armrest. "Thank you...veee..."
Columbia watched as the Italian started to fall asleep. He had shown up everyday two weeks solid to come and help her out, disappointed that he couldn't work the one day she went into town do check up on her bed and do some more shopping.
She had stopped by and tried the German's pastries. They were more delicious than she dared imagine.
He had appeared in the same worn clothes for awhile though. He must have known that she noticed, because he appeared in different outfits since. All of them seemed old and worn though. Questions burned on her tongue, but she wasn't willing to answer a lot herself, so it didn't seem fair to press too much out of him. What was obvious is that his brother and the Spaniard Antonio were rather protective of him.
She sat there, thinking. The house was too quiet, after settling into it. The floorboards no longer creaked and the cackling of the fire only made it seem more empty. Feli had fallen asleep, and although it somehow felt better that he was there, something still felt empty.
She hated that feeling.
"I need a television." She decided.
"That one." Columbia decided, pointing to a large, flat-screen television. The young sales clerk scratched his head, frowning.
"You sure, miss?"
"Yup. I want it delivered. And I need people to set it up for me. Oh, and I'll take the entertainment center from...oh, the second one. The one we talked about."
"The...the one with the remote drawer?"
"Yes, that one. Thank you...Tino." She squinted to see the nametag on the young mans chest, and he merely shrugged.
"If you insist. Follow me."
She filled and signed the check to hand to the store clerk, satisfied with her purchase. She skipped out of the store, hopping into her truck. "Hmm. I think I can pay my electric at town hall..." She muttered, and drove the two minutes to the large building on the square. A different lady at the desk directed to the utilities billing, and she followed the awkward signs to the proper place. A woman older than herself sat behind a counter, sorting papers and looking rather flustered. Her large...front part seemed to be causing her quite a bit of trouble.
"Ah...stupid papers!" Her accent was thick, and Columbia couldn't pin it. She rapped lightly on the door.
"Ah! Come in!" The woman stated, smoothing her platinum hair with a free hand. "So sorry! I am not my best today!"
"It's fine." Columbia responded, walking in smoothly. She placed a check on the counter. "Just here to pay my electric."
"Hm? All righty then! Should be no pro-"
"Katyusha!" A strong voice made them both jump, causing Columbia to scoot off to the side.
The woman behind the desk shrunk back as a tall, tall man approached her aggressively. "Why are papers filed so? Put country in COUNTRY folder and city in CITY folder! Is not hard."
"Bah! I'm so sorry! Was small mix up?" The female defended. Their accents were similar.
Colmbia stared. The tall man had feathery beige-platinum hair and prominent facial features. The most striking was his violet eyes, which she could only glimpse at. He wore an oddly worried look, like he was disappointed. But his tone held a level of intimidation. Something about him piqued her curiousity. The deep voice, thickly accented, captured her attention as much as his demanding presence.
"Don't have it happen again." He stated somewhat harshly, turning to leave. His long tan coat and scarf waved behind him.
Katyusha was shaking slightly behind her counter. "I'm sorry brother..." She whispered. Not low enough for Columbia to miss it though.
"That was your brother?" She blurted with wide eyes. Oops. What happened to refraining yourself, she scolded inwardly.
The other female stared at her incredulously. "You act like you've never heard of Ivan."
"I...van?" Columbia repeated the name carefully, staring at the open door. It sounded like Eevahn, but she wasn't sure how to join the letters in her head. It wasn't an American name either, something she was growing accustomed to the more people she met.
"You don't know?!" Katyusha stared wide eyed, and then shook her head. "No. I will not be spreading bad rumor. Your check will be filed."
Well that was sudden. Not the first time she's had to ignore the weirdness, she reluctantly walked out, shutting the door behind her.
The man was long gone. She was deadly curious now, but it might have to wait. Scanning the hallways ended up being fruitless, but she wanted to talk to him. It was near impossible without knowing where to look though, and she figured asking might be a little too strange or personal. Defeated, she sighed. Maybe a cake would help.
She soon found herself driving down the back alley of the bakery, parking in one of the many spots and running around to the front of the store.
"Guten Tag." The German greeted. She recalled his name was Ludwig.
"Hello! Chocolate mint cake, please?"
"Ja." He bent down to retrieve the cake from the display, typing some numbers in the register.
She glanced around. There were only two other people in the store, sitting at table sharing a private conversation and a large pastry. "So something weird piqued my interest today while I was up paying my electric bill."
"Vhy are you alvays wis ze questions vhenefer you come here?" Ludwig asked, a frown creasing his already serious set face. This was the third time in a row.
She shrugged. "I'm curious! And you're the only one I know that gives me direct answers." She tried to imagine asking the flighty French cafe owner about serious matters. Haha, no.
He sighed, leaning over the counter. "Fery vell, zen. Ask avay."
"So there's this guy named Ivan who works up at the hall-"
At this, the German's eyes widened, and he looked over her head to see the couple. "Uhm. Zat is..."
She frowned. This must be a local thing. It didn't phase her curious mind though.
"Look, I don't know you fery vell. I don't know if I am ze best person to talk to for zis..." He sighed again. "Vait here." He retreated for a moment, and she waited patiently. He was gone more than two minutes. "Nefermine. Just take you cake." He pressed the plate towards her, slipping a paper under the platter. She just barely noticed.
"Thank you, Ludwig." She grabbed a fork from the little dispensers and sat down casually, ripping the folded paper open while jamming a fork in the moist treat.
It looked like a copy of an old newspaper clipping. There was no picture, but the headline read 'Murderer walks after dropped charges due to lack of evidance'.
"Yeah, that's not creepy..." She whispered to herself.
'Ivan Braginsky walks free after a surprise turn of events in the courtroom concludes the case. After only two weeks in jail the city worker is reinstated in his position and given back his former job, which has caused some uproar amongst the people. The parents of the deceased - '
The small clipping ended there. She frowned, confused. There were so many things wrong with this picture, right? So he might have killed someone. Key word being might. But according to the clipping there was some kind of...misunderstanding or something. A lack of evidence, maybe? Either way, two weeks was barely anything to get worked up over. If there was even a chance of such a thing, he wouldn't have walked free so soon. She glanced up at Ludwig, who had made a point to go back into the kitchen. The bite of the delicious cake curbed her annoyance. Maybe she should check up on her custom made bed.
"Please do not ask about such things!" Yao Wang practically screeched, his arms going rigid at his sides.
Columbia looked back at the newspaper clipping dumbly. "What's the harm in asking?" Ludwig's reaction was one of reluctance. Mr. Wang seemed scared.
"Ask all you like, but don't blame me when he starts coming after you, aru!" He heaved a sigh, giving in and lowering his voice considerably. "He kill that man with just a simple water pipe! And when he walk around town, he always carry one of those with him! No one talk to him, no one approach him, aru. He kill you otherwise."
"A...wait." She drew circles on her forehead with her fingers. "So you're all scared of him? Because of a case that fell through? I mean, what if he didn't do it?"
"I say too much already, aru." He turned around, shrugging his shoulders and waving her off. He was acting annoyed. "Anyway, your custom order be done in a couple more weeks. If you're still around to receive it and pay me, which I hope you are."
Columbia frowned, but accepted the defeat. "I will be. Thank you for your time, Mr. Wang."
"Just call me Yao." He called as she left.
She debated asking her house cleaning Italian friend, but he had only recently stopped shaking around her, and if Ivan was such a scary topic for the townsfolk than she almost cringed to think of what mentioning him would do to the frail young man. He had started to brighten up a bit more, seem a little less frail.
Today, they were out painting the fence. And it was getting colder out.
"We better make this a rush job, Feli." She said, noticing how the paint wasn't drying too well in the crisp air.
"Oh? But i want to get it just right..." Even gloved, his nimble fingers knew exactly how to manipulate the brush to get the job done. She was impressed. At the very least he was meticulous.
"It's fine. Fences like these break down often, so we'll have to replace it eventually anyway." Groaning, she stood, feeling her shoulders and back make little popping noises from being bent down so long. "Gosh it's cold. Hey, let's go to the cafe for dinner."
His face fell a little. "Oh... all right?" They packed up their brushes and buckets, making the short walk to the back door of the farmhouse.
"Go ahead and take a shower." It's good to have big buttons on a coat when your fingers are cold, she thought.
"Vee? But what about clothes?"
"I have some shirts I think might fit you. Eh. Follow me." She removed her boots and placed her coat on the rack, letting the gloves and hat to just fall to the floor carelessly before moving to go upstairs.
"Ah, wait!" Feli struggled to get his boots off, hopping after her clumsily.
He followed her upstairs, leading him into the master bedroom.
"Ah, but this place is off-"
"I don't want you going through my stuff cleaning. But this is fine." The room was kind of big. The creaky old bed looked like it was on it's last legs, and she would be glad when Yao finished the new one. She dug through her closet, looking for a specific item... "Ah-a! Here - " She passed him a slightly crinkled white button up and a pair of black pants.
Feli fingered the clothes, accepting them with hesitance. He checked the tags. "Vee...I think they might fit..."
"Well get hopping then. Go shower." She waved him off, returning to her closet to search for something.
Both showered, changed, and buckled into the truck, Columbia grinned. "You really do look a lot better like that." She glanced at the Italian, the shirt tucked into his pants neatly, his slacks complimenting his thin figure. He almost looked feminine.
He flushed slightly, nodding quietly in agreement. He played with his bangs. "When should I return them?"
"Ah, keep them." She said off-handedly. "They're not even mine."
"Veee? Then whose are they?"
Her features fell, and she let herself slump forward a little on the steering wheel. "Oh, they belonged to my ex fiancee." She breathed, and his curious stare widened.
"Oh? What happened?"
Her fingers absent-mindedly begin to tap on the steering wheel, her free leg bounced slightly. "Story for another time. Just keep the clothes." She bit her tongue from saying 'you need them more than I do anyway'.
Spotting her uneasiness, he shrunk back in his seat. "Thank you."
Being dinnertime, the cafe was fairly packed. They had to wait a little bit for a table.
Feliciano was getting embarrassed over his stomach growling. Oddly enough, that made her laugh a little. Not because she was laughing at his pain, but because he was acting...cute. She pondered the thought a little. Feli wasn't her cup of tea for dating material, but he was sweet. Like an endearing little brother. "It's all right." She placed a hand on his shoulder. "We'll eat soon."
"S-sorry-" His face was beet red. She wanted to laugh again, but shrugged the feeling off.
They sat in the waiting area, her carefree mood being spoiled by something off in the air. It took her a moment to realize people had been actively trying not to notice at them. Her frown hardened when she caught one man staring incredulously. His flustered face confused her. What the hell was wrong with this place?
"Columbia!" Alfred's voice called cheerfully, and she urged Feliciano to get up with her.
"About time." A grin spread on her face. "I'm starving." She flashed Alfred a smile, and he returned it in spades.
"Table for two-?" He just finished asking when his eyes fell to Feliciano, whose shoulders drew slightly. For the first time, Columbia saw Alfred's smile fail him.
"Feliciano."
"H-hi, Alfred..." The Italian uncomfortably tried to stand a little behind Columbia.
"I wasn't aware you two were acquainted." Alfred continued, his face was drawn seriously. She may not have known the waiter very well, but it did seem out of character. "Sorry, follow me." He turned abruptly, leading them to the right side of the restaurant.
"Feliciano works for me at my farmhouse. It's too much space to manage on my own." Columbia tried to speak smoothly. The awkward mood was not what she wanted to grow accustomed to.
"Oh. Is he any good?"
The question surprised her. "Yeah...no way I'd be in a liveable situation right now without him." They sat at their table.
"Drinks?" Alfred asked. His smile hadn't returned yet.
"Cola." Columbia stated flatly. Their looks turned to Feli.
"O-oh. Um. Water." He fidgeted uncomfortably.
"Be right out with those." Alfred moved swiftly as ever, and Columbia stared across the table.
"So...you wanna talk about it?" Her voice had lowered, and he flinched.
"Not really. At least. Not here." He was fidgeting a lot.
She pointed to the menu. "What are you getting?"
He frowned. "Oh...well...see..."
"I'm paying for dinner, so don't worry about it. Just. Get whatever you like." She spoke quickly, sensing his hesitation.
At this he grew silent, and the slight shudder didn't go unnoticed. "Aw, come on. Don't cry." She refrained from groaning as big, silent dewdrops slid down his cheeks.
Hand shaking slightly, he retrieved a pen from his pocket and plastered a napkin on the table, writing something down and passing it to her.
Thank you for everything. Spaghetti please.
She let out a deep breath, nodding. "All right."
Alfred returned with the drinks, his dashing smile returned. "Steak dinner, medium rare, loaded potato and fresh veggies. Feli will have spaghetti."
Jot and run, jot and run. They needed more help here, didn't they? The same people were here all the time...
"Thank you." Feliciano's tiny voice rose carefully. He wiped his eyes, shooing away the tiny bits of sadness that were left. "You've been so good to me..."
"I don't really see it that way." She stated, letting an elbow hit the table and pointing at him. "I posted a job and you responded to it. In my mind, you're the one that has helped me. I'm just your employer."
"Vee...but can't we be friends, too?"
The idea made her frown. The thought had honestly never occurred to her. "Well..."
"Friends take friends out to dinner...not employers..." He picked at his napkin, and she nodded, hesitantly, in agreement.
"Point taken. Fine, friends then." Francis was busy, she guessed, looking around. The food was taking longer than usual, then again, she had never been here during a dinner rush.
She chatted with Feli, the sight of him cleaned up properly and in decent clothes really brightened his usually drab appearance. There was another element that helped though, and he smiled wholeheartedly at her. She frowned, slightly, wishing she could smile back.