Blue Valley Underground - Part 06 - Eileen
Let's get married!
Blue Valley Underground - Part 6 - Eileen
The Stillwaters owned an enormous chunk of property. Isaac sat in the rocking chair on the porch and guessed it would take him thirty minutes to walk from one end of the farm to the other. There were rolling plains for miles with the occasional thin tree, and beyond the horizons were thick forests and stony mountains to the north.
He heard the flimsy door creak open and Nolan stepped out with a glass in his hand,
"Me 'n Jake made this. Here." He said and handed it to Isaac. It was full of yellow-orange liquid with a bit of foam at the top, looking suspiciously like urine. Isaac inspected it carefully,
"Beer?" he guessed.
"Apple juice. The apples come from our own orchard, nothin' fishy about 'em."
"Oh. Thank you." Isaac took a cautious sip. Some soldiers at the barracks pulled a similar prank on him when he was a novice...
"It's good." He decided, then took a longer drink.
Nolan leaned backwards on the porch railing. It groaned under his weight, the white paint mostly chipped away. He stated,
"Dad said you were from Rivermere."
"I am." Isaac replied simply. He wanted to ask how far he was from home, but he couldn't ask someone his own age. As far as this kid knew, he was a dignified professional working under their great queen...Not an inept child who got lost in the woods.
"What's it like over there?" asked Nolan, "Are there farms?"
"Just goat farms. Nothing like this though," Isaac gestured to the open crop fields, "There's a lot more trees and the land isn't so flat. It's...The air is...Wetter?" he had no idea how to explain the dry, light feel of the air here compared to the humidity of Rivermere.
"I never been outside the farm," said Nolan, picking the dirt from under his nails, "I mean, I go to the feed store with Dad sometimes...Oh, and church. Mom won't let us go to school; says they don't teach right. You ever been to real school?"
Isaac shook his head,
"Never."
"Your momma teach you at home too?"
"No. I just..." Isaac shrugged and hesitated before finishing, "I never got any schooling."
Nolan's bushy eyebrows shot up,
"Who taught you to read 'n write then?"
"No one. I...I can't." Isaac admitted quietly. He could have lied, and he wished he did. He brought the glass to his lips to hide his face. There was a little silence between them, then the Stillwater boy headed back inside. Before he closed the door, he said,
"Don't go nowhere. Dinner's gonna be ready soon."
A while later Maggie called everyone in for dinner. They sat around the round, white wooden table in the dining room, Isaac in his taller, mismatched brown chair tightly wedged between Logan and Nolan. Logan took off his hat and placed it in his lap, exposing a thinning head of dark grey hair. Before Isaac was a huge plate with a thick slab of meat, two potatoes stacked with butter, two whole carrots and a mountain of corn. Isaac looked around at everyone else's plates. They all had the same mammoth-sized portions.
"Is this whole plate for me...?" Isaac queried. Servings at the barracks were less than half this size, and any food he got at the orphanage was a godsend.
"Sure is. There's plenty of food for everyone here, so don't be shy about seconds." replied Logan, then he asked, "So, are you a church-goin' boy, Isaac?"
"Yes, Sir. Uh, Logan."
The old man smiled at Maggie, "See, I knew he was a good fella," then turned to Isaac, "You're the guest and all, so how about you lead us in thanking the Almighty?"
The soldier took a moment to respond. He hadn't thanked God for his food out loud since the orphanage expected it of him. He tried to remember what to say,
"Sure. Um..." He cleared his throat and threaded his fingers together, lowering his head. The family followed. He paused for a moment, then began,
"We thank you Lord for this meal before us and for each day we live, which we do not take for granted. We ask...uh, we ask only mercy for the suffering and..." Isaac tried to recite the orphanage director's prayer word-for-word, but the rest was lost on him. He paused, then finished awkwardly, "Uh, I'm...Thankful to be with these nice people today."
"That's lovely, Dear." Maggie smiled. The family started eating without another word. Isaac poked at one of his potatoes, feeling like something else needed to be said first...But what? He looked through the doorway into the kitchen, all cluttered with soiled pots and pans. He slowly took a bite of potato, then it hit him. They thanked God, but nobody once thanked the cook.
"Thank you for dinner, Maggie!" he blurted, completely forgetting his mouth was full. The woman looked up from her plate, staring at him in an almost puzzled manner. She replied,
"Well...Of course, Dear. You're very welcome."
"Thank you for dinner, Mom." Eileen added.
"You're welcome, Eileen."
"Thanks, Mom!" Said Jacob, followed by Nolan, "Thank you, Mom!"
Their mother started laughing,
"You kids..."
Logan shoved a forkful of meat in his mouth and said under his chewing,
"Y'all thank her for cookin' but ain't nobody thanks me for killin' the pig..."
"Nobody thanked me for shovelin' cow piles today!" exclaimed Jacob. Maggie tapped his arm,
"You keep that kinda talk outside..."
"Isaac," began Eileen with a devious smile, "After dinner, you wanna see the hill? I can show you!"
"The hill?" Isaac queried. Logan quickly broke in,
"You ain't goin' up there alone with him. Take the boys with you."
Eileen looked offended,
"I'm not goin' with the boys, I'm goin' with Isaac!"
"Yeah, I'm tired!" Added Jacob. Logan shot her a warning glower,
"Eileen, don't you backtalk me..."
"Come on, Dad!" she whined.
"That's enough, Eileen," Maggie told her flatly, "You sass all you want, but you don't do it at the table."
The girl let out a loud, harsh sigh and rested her head dramatically on her hand. Isaac caught himself staring at her and quickly looked back at his plate. He'd never met a girl like her; so forward about everything, so exaggerated and childlike despite her age. He found her intriguing, though her large size intimidated him a bit. She must have been close to three hundred pounds. She hardly resembled her parents, and in fact there was something 'off' about her face that Isaac couldn't put his finger on. Something about her eyes--too small, too close together. Her hair was strawberry blonde like her mother's once was, with the same large curls.
"Hey Isaac," began Jacob, "What's it take to be in the military? Do they just let anyone in?"
"I, uh...Most people, I think," explained Isaac, "Except women, of course. Or if you're sick or...Or missing a leg or something."
"You think they'd let me join?"
"Hold on now," Logan interrupted, turning to his son, "God don't condone killin', Jacob. No boy of mine is pickin' up a sword--not while I'm still breathin'." He glanced at the soldier, "No offense, Isaac."
"I agree," said Isaac. He told the younger boy, "I only joined because I had no other choice. It's not fun."
Jacob looked discouraged,
"Yeah, but...You get to wear armor! And carry a sword!"
"That stuff's heavy." Isaac frowned, "Real heavy..."
After dinner, Logan and his sons left the table while Maggie and Eileen cleared their dishes. Isaac followed the women into the kitchen, standing the doorway and feeling useless.
"Can I help?" he offered.
"No, Dear," answered Maggie as she scrubbed the iron oven, "Our guests don't do chores."
Eileen rinsed a plate and snickered to her mother, "He wants to do women's work...!"
Maggie nudged her,
"Hush." Then she turned back to Isaac, "You should relax. We'll manage just fine."
Isaac wandered the house for a while. He looked out the window and saw the goblin slaves returning to the barn just as the sun began to set. He saw Logan's distinct human shape out there too, who shut the barn door once all the goblins were in. He then slid a locking bar in front of the doors, sealing them inside, and started heading towards the house. Isaac roamed out to the porch and nodded at Logan as he passed him. Logan tilted his hat and disappeared inside.
Leaning on the creaky railing, Isaac stared down the long road. He rehearsed different excuses to Evan over and over in his head, but all of them were weak. Even the truth was pathetic. Maybe he'd really get kicked out this time. Cast off to the streets like the orphanage originally intended. He'd be another homeless nobody without a true name, no family, no one to claim his corpse when he died. The thought made Isaac nauseous and he wished for a distraction. In a few seconds, his wish came true.
The door suddenly creaked open, very slowly, and Eileen peeked her head out. She smiled when she saw him and closed the door as quietly as possible, though her footsteps still made the wooden planks scream. She kneeled beside Isaac and whispered,
"Follow me." Then she began walking away. Isaac stood up, but found himself frozen. Eileen turned back to him and waved her arm,
"Come on!" she whispered harshly. The soldier looked back at the house, then back to her.
"Uh...I don't know if--"
Before he knew it, the girl was dragging and shoving him with her,
"Hurry up!" she urged him.
Isaac reluctantly followed her as she hurried across the grassy field. The setting sun casted long shadows over the land. There was a steep hill ahead with a great willow tree on it. Isaac assumed that was "the hill". Eileen pulled the hem of her turquoise dress up to her knees and ascended, huffing and puffing her way towards the top. Isaac climbed effortlessly, even slowing down to stay beside her. She stopped for a moment and panted,
"It's a big hill, huh?"
"It is." Isaac agreed, then glanced back at the house. No one was chasing them. Yet.
Eileen caught her breath and laboriously moved on. Isaac hooked his arm around hers and helped pull her up, earning him a big smile.
Once at the top, Eileen pushed through the drooping branches of the willow tree and waved at Isaac to do the same,
"In here." She said. He followed, then found himself in a globe of leaves and bark. The tree was a massive, gnarled old relic with big roots, not unlike the tree which consoled him when he was lost. Eileen grunted as she sat down by the trunk and patted the space beside her. Isaac sat too, keeping a couple feet between them. If Logan burst in here, he didn't want him to suspect any debauchery and lock him in the slave barn...
"This is my secret hideout," Eileen explained, "Me 'n my brothers used to play here when we were little." She frowned, "They don't come here anymore though. They don't play with me anymore. They say I'm 'stupid' and 'fat'."
Isaac knit his brow,
"That's very unkind."
"Yeah. They're not nice to me ever." Eileen inspected a white pebble, turning it over in her hand. She suddenly told him, "But you are! I like you a lot."
Isaac was taken aback,
"Oh. I...Like you too."
The girl raised her eyebrows,
"Do you have a girlfriend?"
"No..." Isaac admitted, then felt an unnecessary urge to explain himself, "There's not much time for that at the barracks. I mean, they move us around to different posts all the time, so..." It was such a lame excuse and he knew it. Most of the soldiers were married, had girlfriends, or at least a prostitute that dropped by once in a while. Eileen's face was beaming,
"Can I be your girlfriend?"
Isaac had a feeling that was coming. Just not so...very soon. The question hit him like a brick and he just sat there, dazed from the impact for a long moment,
"Uh..."
"I'll be a good girlfriend!" She scooted closer to him and grabbed his hand, "We can get married at the church!"
Isaac almost choked,
"Eileen...!" he tried to pull his hand away but her grip was like iron, "We can't just..."
"Please say 'yes'!" her beady eyes were pleading. They locked gazes for a moment, then Isaac replied breathlessly,
"Eileen...No. I'm sorry."
Her mouth fell open. She looked utterly devastated.
"Why not?" she asked, teetering on the verge of tears.
"Because I don't really...Know you...?"
"You said you liked me!" her voice cracked.
"I do! You're very nice!" the soldier smiled, though his eyes were distressed, "But I'll be going home soon, probably tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?" Eileen squeaked. She blinked and a tear rolled from her eye, "No! Please stay!"
"Eileen, I can't..."
"You can live with us! Dad likes you!"
Isaac shook his head, "I have to go, it's not a choice. My marshal doesn't even know where I am. If I don't go back, I could be accused of treason." He looked at her remorsefully, "I'm sorry."
The girl shook with heavy sobs and cumbersomely got to her feet,
"You're the only one who's nice to me!" she sniffled, "Everyone treats me like a goblin!"
Isaac didn't know what to say. Eileen waited for a response, and when she didn't get one she simply turned and stormed away in tears.
Her cries faded all the way down the hill, and disappeared with the faint slam of the front door. Isaac groaned and scrubbed his face. This was the first--and hopefully last--time he ever made a girl cry...He felt like such an ass. Eileen's family seemed to have a long-established contempt for her. It was quiet, subdued, restrained. But it was there, and Isaac couldn't imagine how they treated her when they didn't have company.
Apparently, like a lowly goblin.
Isaac made his way down the hill shortly after Eileen. Logan was already standing by the porch. Waiting for him. Isaac didn't know whether to take his time, hurry up, or run away. He stopped in front of the man, looking sheepish. Logan spoke slowly, threateningly calm as he asked,
"You wanna explain why my daughter just ran in the house cryin', Boy?"
"I didn't hurt her, Sir," Isaac replied nervously, "I mean, I hurt her feelings. She asked to be my girlfriend and...I, uh..."
"And you said 'no'." Logan finished. Isaac nodded,
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make her cry."
Logan let out a long sigh and patted Isaac's shoulder,
"S'alright. I figured it was nothin' serious. You don't seem like that type to me..." he eyeballed the soldier, then turned and headed towards the house, "She'll get over it. Now let's get inside before the bugs eat us up."
Isaac followed, then noticed the business end of a hammer sticking out of the old man's deep overall pocket. It wasn't there before. Anxiety bubbled in his stomach, and he was hesitant to enter the house at all.
Once inside, Isaac locked himself in the bathroom. Partially out of paranoia, but mostly to look at his wounds. He unbuttoned his shirt and shrugged it off, pulling away the gauze to inspect the rash on his chest. It was itchy and painful, red and angry. He found a folded cloth on the counter and wetted it in the sink, cringing as he pressed it to the wound. Pink blood spots in the shape of vines were left on the fabric when he removed it.
Isaac taped fresh gauze to his chest, put his--or rather, Nolan's--shirt back on and left the bathroom. From the sitting room, he heard Maggie mention his name while speaking to someone else. The house was dark now as the sun disappeared over the horizon, dimly lit only by oil lamps. He leaned against the wall, concealed by shadow as he eavesdropped.
"...He ain't takin' Eileen's room! One of the boys can just sleep on the couch tonight." Said Maggie. Logan's voice replied,
"I don't see why Eileen can't sleep on the couch. I just think Isaac would be more comfortable with his own room."
"She's too big for that couch, Logan..."
"Everybody's too big for that couch. I can't have Jacob sluggin' around with a crick in his neck; I need both those boys in good workin' shape or we don't eat!"
"That's ridiculous!"
"He ain't sleepin' in the same room with one of our boys," There was a certain austereness in Logan's voice, "I won't have it, Maggie. He's takin' Eileen's bed and that's that."
Maggie sighed, "Stubborn old goat. Don't listen to reason, do you?"
There's no room for Southlanders here.
Abraham's voice muttered in Isaac's head. He didn't know why he chose that moment to step into the room. It seemed like the worst possible time, yet there he was, and both Maggie and Logan regarded him stiffly.
"Speak of the devil," Logan said quickly, ""We're gonna fix up Eileen's room for you. She'll be on the couch tonight."
"I can take the couch." Isaac offered.
"Our guests don't sleep on the couch, Dear." Maggie smiled wearily.
"What are your plans tomorrow, Isaac?" asked Logan, "Anything we can do to help?"
"Actually," The soldier rubbed at his itching rash, "I was thinking of going home tomorrow."
Maggie knit her brow with concern,
"Are you sure you feel well enough?"
"I feel much better now."
"Think hard about it, Boy," warned Logan, "You're a long way from home and you ain't got a coin on you. I can take you to Newell by carriage, but you're on your own from there. You'll have to catch the train back to Rivermere."
"I'm ready. I gotta be--My marshal probably thinks I'm dead." Isaac replied with false confidence. Really, he was frightened and unprepared, he didn't know where Newell was or where he was, and he'd only ridden the train once in his life. A few months ago; mudslide relief mission in Rockreach. It wasn't fun--the mission or the ride.
"Alright then," Logan tilted his head and got up, limping to the kitchen on a sore hip, "I'll get you on your way tomorrow. Maggie, how 'bout you get some sheets for him."
The woman sighed and headed towards the hall, softly patting Isaac's shoulder on the way. She returned with an armful of linens and Isaac followed her upstairs. There were just two doors up here, one cracked open and one closed. Maggie stopped, looking irritated as she opened the closed door and peeked her head inside. Jacob was sitting on his bed, writing in a journal of some sort.
"What's the door closed for?" Maggie queried sharply. Jacob didn't even look up from his book as he replied,
"I dunno, ain't my fault. Nolan closed it when he left..."
His mother took a strong whiff of the air,
"You drinkin' in here?"
"No." Jacob rolled his eyes.
"Better not be." She kept the door open, then pushed her way into Eileen's room, which was really more of an attic--a little space wedged on the top floor as an afterthought. The ceiling was vaulted, the bed pushed to the lowest side where one had to duck to stand. The girl was laying face-down on her bed with her head buried in her arms.
"Eileen, get up." Said Maggie, "Isaac's sleepin' in here tonight. You'll be on the couch."
Slowly and dismally, Eileen picked herself up and left the room, regarding Isaac with nothing more than a glance. Maggie began changing the linens.
"I really appreciate this, Ma'am. She can keep her bed though, really..." Mentioned Isaac.
"It's nothing, Dear." Replied Maggie, tucking the sheets under the mattress, "God didn't send you to us so we could make you sleep on the couch. He'd want us to take care of you." She flashed a smile and smoothed out the blankets, then tossed two articles of clothing to Isaac, "These are Nolan's pajamas. Boy sleeps in his tighty-whities anyway, he won't be missin' 'em."
With that, she bid him goodnight and left the room, closing the door behind her. Isaac changed into the loose shirt and cotton pants, both mint green.
The room was dark, save for three candles burning on the night table. Isaac climbed in bed and unexpectedly rolled to the center where it took a dramatic dip. Eileen's weight had made an impression of her body. Isaac felt awkward laying in it. He blew out the candles and stared into darkness for several hours, until he finally managed to sleep.