Chapter 2:5
1769, October 5th-October 6th
The house was terrifying at night. I could barely see where I put my feet as I followed the Native American boy through the Davenport Homestead's main building, now and then getting minor heart attacks due to the thunder. Lightning bolts flashed over the dark sky and the heavy rain pattered against the windows.
"So you live here with Achilles?" I asked and followed him into a bedroom. It was not as dirty as the rest of the house and a lonely candle warmed the atmosphere.
"No, not really," he answered and stretched out his hand to me. "I can take your coat and belongings if you'd like to."
I shook my head and sat down on the only bed in the room.
"I'll manage," I said and took off my jacket, hanging it on headboard. "Is it here that I'll spend my night?"
The boy with the unpronounceable name nodded and scratched the back of his head. He sank down on the floor and rested his back against the white-painted wall. Our eyes locked and he shot me a crooked smile.
"You can borrow it for tonight; I'll sleep on the floor," he replied and raised his knee in level to his shoulders. "See you tomorrow, then."
"Oh my god, is this your bed?" I wondered and jumped to my feet. "I can't let you sleep on the floor in your own house!"
He waved at me to calm down.
"It's alright, I promise." The boy examined me with his dark eyes. "It's just for a night."
I sat down on the single bed again and bit my lower lip. It was kind of awkward that I would sleep in some stranger's house in the middle of nowhere – my aunt knowing nothing about it – especially in this boy's bed. I couldn't even say his name without sounding drunk.
"Eh…"
"Not sleepy?"
I pulled up the blanket towards my face and turned my face towards his voice. He had blown out the candlelight and we were alone in the darkness.
"Where does Achilles sleep?" I asked and tried to find his eyes.
"Just a couple of rooms away, down the hallway."
"Aha."
We were silent after that and all I could hear was his calm breathing; the relentless clatter of the rain had ceased as well as the loud bangs of thunder. The rhythmic sound made me doze off and before I knew it, I was asleep, dreaming about an eagle.
Morning came quicker than I had thought – I hadn't really expected me to sleep that well – and I declined the morning meal; I wanted to get home as soon as possible. I harassed the old man about the names of those who had almost killed us both, but he ignored me and refused to even give me their first names. I didn't know what I would have to do – he just didn't listen to what I had to say. He just told me the same as he had yesterday: "revenge is never the key to solution". Damn him! He didn't know what I had been through! I had almost died! I had given up my life, my six-year old life, for that ungrateful son of a "you-know-what" and he couldn't even do this small favor for me. I was supposed to be happy that he offered me a ride home. God, he was a stubborn man!
"Help me to get up on the horse."
I felt how my cheeks reddened. I had never ridden in my whole life, not to speak about how much I disliked horses in general. They were dumb animals, only good for travelling, and they smelled like feces all the time.
"Have you never been on a horse?" he asked, more than just amused. "And you're a townie."
"I don't like horses," I answered and glared at him. "They smell."
"They're wonderful," he corrected and patted the brown mare's neck. "So wise and fierce."
I rolled with my eyes at him and crossed my arms.
"Are we going soon or?" I sighed. "Just help me up and let's get this done with."
The dark-skinned boy nodded and showed me how to get up using the stirrups. I got up on the first try – to my surprise – but was even more surprised when I saw him follow up and settle down behind me.
"Wha—"I started but he grabbed the reins, his hands snaking around my torso.
"Let's get going, right?"
His tone indicated that he was seemingly unaffected by our sudden intimacy and I tried to ignore it as well. My heart started to beat faster but not because of the horse's sudden movement, but of him so close to me. It was a strange feeling and I desperately pushed it out of my mind.
A couple of hours vanished in just a moment and we reached the outskirts of Boston by afternoon.
"Stop here," I commanded and he obeyed, halting the horse.
"Why here?" he asked and helped me to get down.
I grimaced when my feet touched the ground. My whole body was aching of all the horseback riding; I could barely feel my thighs and started stretching.
"I'll find the way back home myself." I stifled a yawn. "I don't want my aunt to see you; what would that poor woman think?"
He got down from the horse as well and shrugged. I watched him as he inspected the hoofs and rearranged the saddle.
"Well, just tell her the truth," he answered. "As a matter of fact, I can tell her myself."
I shook my head.
"You don't know my aunt," I said and couldn't help but smiling. "She's crazy, I tell you. I once saw her throw out a fully grown man from our apartment."
He lighted up when he saw my smile and I hurriedly erased it from my face. Don't let him get to you.
"So I guess this is farewell?" I wondered and realized that I sounded too soft – like I wanted to meet him again. "Goodbye, then."
I turned around and started to walk away as fast as I could but a hand soon grabbed me by my shoulder. He spun me around and I frowned.
"I just want to ask…"
I straightened and met his hazelnut-colored eyes.
"What?"
He smiled crookedly and politely replied:
"You never told me your name. I thought a well-educated girl like you would know some manners at least."
I opened my mouth but then shut it again. The boy raised his right eyebrow in a challenging gesture and I snorted. What a guy.
"Melissa Rawling," I answered and shook his hand. "A pleasure to meet you Raght-také-non."
Then I left.