Wilbur

"Who wakes up at six in the morning?"

I chuckled, taking a deep breath before looking at the woman in front of me. Her voice hoarse, tangled hair and a cup of coffee in-hand. It was like hearing Tory complain whenever she didn't feel like going to school.

I couldn't blame Diana though. Vacations were supposed to be times when you get a temporary break from the alarm clock. Her vacation on the other hand, involved listening to actual roosters screaming their lungs out at around five in the morning. True to her nature, and to her phone alarm, (which I later on realized was also a rooster screaming its lungs out) she got up. I was the only one awake by the time she waked in the kitchen wearing a green t-shirt with the words 'Alive n' Kickin'.

She didn't even notice I was there until I finally cleared my throat. She turned to me, frowning.

"You're up early," she said. Well – it sounded more like a toad trying to talk, what with her voice being too husky.

"Morning run," I simply answered. I pointed out where the mugs were and she sat beside me. She quietly waited until I poured her some coffee. She gave me a small smile before looking out the window.

I lived in a farm half of my life but it felt like I still wasn't used to how calm everything was. Occasionally, a couple of hens wandered in the yard.

"It's so quiet here it's almost scary," she whispered.

"I assure you there are no dead bodies buried here," I replied, "I think."

She looked surprised. For a moment I thought she took what I said seriously. She took a sip of her coffee before speaking.

"I didn't mean it that way. I have a few questions I want answered but are in no way trying to belittle whatever lifestyle they have here. I mean, what do they do here? Until what time do they work? How much per month do they earn? Time seems to be so friendly here."

I chuckled, shaking my head a
little. "They plant. They water. They take care of the crops. Then they harvest."

She rolled her eyes. "I know that much. I mean how could they live with this routine? I'm curious, have they tried making – I don't know, jam or something. How –"

"Can they not live like you?" I said. "The people here," I stood up, putting my mug on the sink ",have lived most of their lives thinking about what they have, and what they want to have. Then they enjoy it once they already have what they want to have. As simple as that. They don't question it. They don't ask for more."

She frowned, "Why not? Life's all about asking for more. That's how people get satisfaction."

"Hah – no." I placed my hands on the counter, facing her. "Satisfaction is when you get what you want. Hearing you talk,' seems like satisfaction's a need. Try not to demand too much on life."

She snorted. "I'm kind of waiting for you to sing Bare Necessities now."

She seemed to be holding back, worried that I was somehow offended that she had a different way of viewing things. The woman must've lived in the city her whole life. She probably had people demanding more from her. I'm not that easily offended just because she had a different way of doing things. She looked genuinely confused, curious. It was better to educate than shame someone. At least that's what my mom told me.

I pointed a finger at her. "I used to think like you, little miss. I wanted to do more. Keep moving forward and all that shit. Then I come back here and then I realize there's more to life than wanting." I glanced at her. "Which is kind of funny now that I think about the circumstances of how we met."

"You giving me a lap dance?" she grinned.

"No," I chuckled, "You throwing up on my costume. I'm guessing you had coffee for lunch."

She grimaced before giving me a fake laugh. She stretched her arms upward and gave a small grunt.

"Hey," I started, "you want to go hiking?"

She stopped mid-yawn and looked outside the window.

"I want to go hiking, too!" squealed a voice from the kitchen's door. Tory walked in, my mother behind her.

"That makes three." I smiled and gave my mom a questioning look.

She shook her head. "I'm old and so is your father. We have an on-going bet."

"That's new," I replied.

"Yes, yes," she continued. "Whoever gets admitted to the hospital first, for this month, will be doing the dishes for the next month."

As if he could sense that people were talking about him, my father entered the kitchen, giving a peck on my mother's cheek. He messed Tory's hair before giving Diana a kind smile. She returned it, shyly nodding her head.

He looked at the sink, smiled, and gave me a pat on the back.

I turned to see my mom giving me an 'I told you so.' look.

I grew up in a household where I constantly questioned if my folks were smart enough so that they can be lazy.

Diana excused herself and Tory just followed her out of the room.

"So!" my dad started.

"No," I chuckled.

"What? I haven't asked anything yet," he gave me an innocent look before turning to my mother, silently asking for help.

"You old man," she clicked her tongue "leave the boy alone. It's twenty to the eighteen. You need to chill."

My father grunted. "I told you to stop watching those shows. That's not how kids talk these days." He cleared his throat and rested his chin on his hand. "Like that's like literally not how they talk. Like that's nowhere near like how they even say the words. Like I can't even with you."

There was a moment of silence before my mom bursted laughing.

That was the scenario Tory and Diana.

For a woman who fit perfectly in a nice office with a nice view of the city on her window, she seemed out of place in our kitchen. She looked at my parents the way most people looked at new born babies – with curiosity and hesitation.

Diana turned to me and smiled, moving her eyes slightly to my parents as if asking me if I was seeing what she was seeing. I smiled.

"You'll get used to it."

Tory was oblivious of our exchange and was already pushing me to put on my shoes again. As I passed Diana, I noticed something around her waist.

I eyed her and she shrugged.

"Really? You're bringing that hideous thing with you?"

She opened her mouth, like she couldn't believe that I said what I said.

"It's called a fanny pack and it has a lot of important things that can be useful when hiking."

I snorted. "Like a compass?"

She followed me down the hallway. She stood behind me as I crouched down to put on my shoes. "I know this place like the back of my hand. We don't need a compass."

Diana gave a fake laugh before replying. "You never know. And I have biscuits here among other things."

"Like Hansel and Gretel!" Tory shouted from the door. She was with Diablo and was petting him like crazy that the poor dog could barely stay still.

"And we might get to see a witch," I replied. Standing up, I turned to see Diana smiling at Tory. She was out of her element. It felt like taking an intelligent robot outside and showing her things for the first time. This was a good thing, letting her breathe some fresh air.

"You want to hold hands?" I asked, offering my hand to her.

She looked at it, smiled at me, then gave me a high five.

"Let's go!"

Her enthusiasm didn't last long. Soon enough, she was heaving while Tory attempted to give her a brief explanation about every tree and rock we saw.

"I think you need some more exercise," Tory suggested, giving Diana her bottle of water. "Are you okay?"

Diana gave her a thumbs up before looking around.

"You got too enthusiastic and used up most of your energy in the beginning."

She wiped her sweat and stood up from where she sat. She was determined to get through with it.

I dusted my shorts before smiling at her. "Well you better be careful, this isn't even ground." I turned to her before taking another step. "You can seriously get hur-"

I didn't get to finish what I was about to say when I felt a sharp pain on my foot, then my head.

There were two things I noticed before I passed out. Two people shouting and shortly after that, a ripping sound before something soft was placed on my forehead.

I vaguely remember voices as I was lifted from the ground. Everything felt like a movie. I was then placed on something soft. I heard my parents talking, something about washing the dishes.

I still felt a little groggy when I heard a man and woman talking at the foot of the bed I was lying on.

"It was a good thing you bought those, they helped a lot," the man said.

Then I heard Diana's voice, something warm touching my chest. "You're lucky the person who taught us first aid was interesting enough that I remembered what he said."

I weakly lifted my hand to place it over hers. "Thanks," I answered hoarsely. I felt like crap.

"Still going to mock my fanny pack?" she asked.

I smiled, my eyes still closed, I grimaced when I tried to move my head.

"What the hell was in it? Don't tell me you put biscuits on my head to stop the bleeding," I joked.

"Well no, not biscuits."

I opened my eyes a little to see her smiling awkwardly.

"What?" I heard a door open and in came my mother, kissing Diana's forehead before looking at me. She was rubbing Diana's arm as she regarded me.

"Sanitary napkins! Who knew!"