Chapter Three: Lorem Ipsum

A wooden cabin sat in the middle of wide sweeping fields with several groupings of crops laid out before it. The earth was brown and dusty, trees were few and far apart, yet plants grew in relative prosperity. The house didn't sit alone however. In front of it was a small, wire fenced pen housing a chicken coop, several of the little white birds strutting about in the early morning sun. At its side stood a sturdy lean-to.

A beam of sunlight cast down into a bedroom as the light clink of steel rang out. A pair of green eyes fluttered open, blond hair hanging over them. A quiet yawn escaped the young woman as she began to rise from her bed, the sheets draped over her shoulders. "Uhh... Dang it Griffith, you at it already?" she grumbled, a thick twang in her voice. 

She buried her freckled face in her pillow and attempted to shut out the noise but with no success. With a sigh of resignation she pulled away the covers and got to her feet. As she stood up her long aurulent locks hung down to the small of her back in a stray, loose wave. "Hnyahhhh!" she yawned, stretching out her limbs and scratching the back of her head, quickly adopting an irritated expression. 

She stood with great confidence and possessed a strong, healthy figure. Getting dressed quickly the young woman retrieved a pair of loose, drab green trousers. Pulling them up and fastening them about her hips with a thick leather belt she then moved towards the door of her chamber. Hanging by the door were two garments. The first was a tan blouse which she promptly pulled on over her white tank top and buttoned up, fitting snugly about her torso. The second article was a brown, wide brimmed cowboy hat which she placed upon her head as she stepped out into the hall. 

As she made her way down the hall the floorboards creaked under her feet. Passing through a small sitting room she came to the front door where she stepped into her boots and then out onto the deck. "Griffith!" She barked as she moved around to the side of the house. 

Sitting at a bench with tools in his hands was a young man. Tall and muscular he might have looked imposing if not for the docile, almost blank look on his face. 

Scruffy blond hair hung to his shoulders, kept off his eyes by a pair of goggles strapped around his forehead. He shared many characteristics with the young woman, his eyes were almost identical and his cheeks were freckled, just like hers. He was dressed in a white, short sleeved shirt and brown cargo pants, both stained with dirt and oil. He donned a leather harness on his torso and a red bandana around his neck. His hands were covered by thick leather work gloves and tattered boots covered his feet. "Cammie," he muttered, his accent as thick as hers.

"What are you doin' out here tinkerin' this early?" Cammie asked in frustration, arms crossed over her chest. 

He didn't bother to look away from his work as he replied, his tone mindful and relaxed. "Fixin' your gun."

"Well thank ya kindly brother but last time Ah checked mah gun worked just fine." 

Giffith didn't respond, not vocally anyway. Slowly getting to his feet he grabbed the double barreled shotgun off the bench and opened the break. He then took a single shell from the bench. Sliding it into place he flicked the weapon back and closed the break then swung it forward with one hand, aiming it off into the distance. With a loud crack it fired and buckshot exploded from the barrel, whipping past Cammie and scattering across the field.

"What in the-!" she exclaimed throwing herself to the side, eyes wide and teeth clenched together. "Why would you pull the dang trigger?" 

Griffith simply opened the gun, the empty shell popping out and skipping across the ground. "Ah didn't." 

The response left Cammie with an embarrassed expression on her face. "Well... Guess y'all made yer point then," her tone was awkward and her face turned red. "You just keep on playin' with yer fancy tools, Ah've got work to do." Turning away she began to march out toward the fields, snatching up a rubber band from a nearby bench. As she made her way away from the house she pulled her hair back into a loose ponytail, letting it hang to her shoulders before she tightened it with the band. "That's better," Cammie said to herself as she adjusted her hat. 

Walking out in the crop fields Cammie pulled the brim of her hat down over her eyes, blocking out the powerful beams of the rising sun. As she marched forward she spotted something on the edge of her vision. It was difficult to make it out due to glare of the sunlight in her eyes but there was definitely something there. "What in the-? Some kind of critter in the fields again?" she muttered, gradually increasing her pace as she made her way toward it.

As she closed in the nature of the thing became clearer, it was a person. "Wha-!?" Cammie stopped for a moment, scratching her head in confusion as she stared. It was definitely a person, a girl. She lay in the middle of the field, covered in dirt and completely motionless. "Oh mah! Griffith git over here! Ah'm gonna need yer help!" Cammie yelled back to Griffith before dashing off toward the girl, sprinting as fast as she could.

She came to a sliding stop in front of the unconscious young woman, kicking up dirt as she did and immediately dropping to one knee. Cammie's face was filled with visible concern as she reached down and gently brushed some of the dark hair away from the girl's face to reveal pale white skin. "Poor girl looks like she ain't never seen the light of day before," Cammie remarked, softly placing a hand against the girl's forehead. It was burning hot and her skin was wet with sweat.

No more than a few seconds later Cammie heard Griffith coming up behind her. Getting to her feet she turned to her brother. Tipping her hat back she saw him approaching with a large sledgehammer slung over his shoulder, though with that same blank expression. "Now why would ya bring that thang?" Cammie asked, narrowing her gaze at him. 

"You said ya needed mah help," Griffith replied with a shrug. 

"Not that kind of help! Ah need you to use those muscles of yers to carry this poor thang back to the house, and hurry."

Griffith complied, placing the hammer in a slip on his harness and dropping to one knee. As he got down he scooped up the dark haired girl and placed her upon his shoulders, her weight seemingly nothing to him as he rose up without so much as a slight strain. 

"C'mon Griff, let's git a move on." The two hurried back across the field toward the house, moving at a brisk pace. As they reached the door Cammie lead the way in, moving into the main room.

Upon entering they immediately met three others. Two female children who shared the same blond hair and green eyes as Cammie and Griffith and a tall grey haired man with a thick mustache and stubble. The two young girls sat at a large round table at the other end of the room and the man stood at the counter, preparing the morning meal. All three looked on with confusion, the girls remaining silent but the man stepping forward and speaking up. "What are you two doin'!? Who is that?" the man asked, brushing his hair back and adopting a very stern expression. 

"Ah'd tell ya if Ah could papa but we just found her lyin' out in the field. She doesn't look too good," Cammie replied, shuffling her feet a bit nervously.

The older man took a deep breath, rubbing his eyes somewhat nervously. "Ahlright, ahlright. Griffth give'er to me and go fill up the tub. Cammie when he gets back you take her into the washroom and git her cleaned up. Amy, Maria you girls go outside and occupy yerselves for a bit." 

Griffith stepped forward, handing the girl off to his father. The older man had a sturdy build but he couldn't carry her with the same ease that his son did. 

The children appeared more than a little confused but they did as directed nonetheless, filing out of the house. "Ahlright papa," the older girl added. Griffith followed them shortly after. 

Cammie and her father then hurried into the washroom, just down the hall. "There we go." The man muttered as he placed the girl down on the floor, propping her up against the wall. Getting up to his feet he left Cammie alone with the mysterious young woman for the time being. 

Moments later Griffith returned with a large metal basin, filled up with water. 

"Thanks Griff, now git. It ain't exactly gentlemanly to watch while a girl washes," Cammie said as she began to dip a towel into the basin, letting it soak for a moment. 

"Mhm," Griffith muttered, cheeks reddening slightly before he turned and took his leave, closing the door behind him as he went. 

"Ahlright now to get you uhm... undressed ah guess," Cammie stammered, biting down on her lower lip. Ringing out the cloth she began to dab the cool, moist fabric against the girl's forehead and wiped away some of the dirt and grime from her face. As she worked something odd caught her eye, something on the girl's skin. 

Reaching down Cammie took hold of the girl's wrist and lifted it up. Pulling back the sleeve of the girl's sweater she spotted a series of strange black marks. "Now what's this?" It was a symbol she didn't recognize, a group of inch long, vertical black bars, spaced rather close together. Cammie attempted to rub them off with the cloth but to no avail, it wasn't going away. "Well ain't that interestin'... She don't look like the type to have a tattoo."

A short time later Cammie and Griffith sat at a small, rectangular table in the sitting room. A little yellow satchel sat atop the wooden surface with its contents strewn out. An old metal lantern, a book, some matches and a round metal case with the words 'For Mel', scrawled across the surface. 

"Ah don't know if we should've gone through her things but it's probably the only way we're gonna figure out anything about her."

Griffith nodded in agreement. "Where is she?" he asked. 

"I put her to bed in mah room, dressed her up in some of mah old clothes. She's a bit small for em' but they'll do for now. So this tin thang here says 'For Mel', you think that could be her name?" 

Griffith replied with a simple shrug. 

"Boy you're a real help ain't ya Griff?" Cammie retorted sarcastically, but as usual Griffith's reply was minimal in nature. 

Meanwhile Mel lay in Cammie's bed, the sheets tucked up to her shoulders. Slowly she began to stir. Her vision was hazy and her head spun as she returned to waking world. She felt warm, comfortable, safe. She yawned for a moment her eye's slowly drifting open as she reached up and felt the damp cloth laying on her forehead. She scanned the room, noticing strange, brown walls. It was just unnecessarily bright. She wondered how anyone could tolerate this? 

Pausing briefly to regain her senses and then she panicked as her memories flooded back to her, whipping the cloth against the wall and throwing off the covers. She looked down to find herself dressed in clothes she didn't recognize. "Wha-?" She stammered, looking from left to right, eyes taking in everything around her. The bed, the sheets, the walls, everything was different. Mel shuffled back against the corner, pulling her knees up to her chest and watching the door, her body shaking all over.

She stared at it for several minutes, her body motionless. She kept her face hidden behind her knees but her eyes peered out over them to keep a close, constant watch on the door. After what felt like hours the knob turned and the door pushed inwards. 

Slowly stepping into the room Cammie came forward, a tray in her hands supporting a bowl of steaming stew and two slices of fluffy white bread. She peered in with a curious look on her face, smiling calmly as she noticed Mel was awake. 

Mel was far less welcoming as she pressed herself tighter against the wall and remained dead silent. 

"Well hi there darlin'," Cammie said quietly as she moved forward. 

Mel looked away nervously, refusing to make eye contact. 

"Ah thought Ah heard ya movin' around in here so Ah got ya some food. Figured you'd be hungry," as she spoke she held out the tray but Mel was still largely unresponsive. 

Mel tried to speak but, to ask where she was or how she'd gotten there, but all she could muster was a quiet squeak. 

"Oh my, you're a shy one ain't ya? Don't worry I ain't gonna hurt ya," Cammie continued, drawing closer and placing the tray on the foot of the bed. 

Mel squeaked once more, attempting to make words but she couldn't quite manage it.

"Ah understand, if ya don't wanna talk about it then ya don't gotta talk about. You just sit tight in here until yer ready to come out. Until then Ah'm Cammie, Cammie Jones and if Ah'm not mistaken yer name is Mel, right?" Cammie got down on one knee in front of the bed and spoke softly. 

Mel stalled for a long moment and then slowly nodded.

"Well it's mighty nice to meet you Mel. We're washin' yer clothes for ya and we'll give em' back as soon as they're clean. Just rest here and I'll see whenever yer ready." Getting to her feet Cammie turned and exited the room, leaving Mel alone once more. 

The young woman remained pressed against the wall. A pleasant scent tickled Mel's nose and she let out a quiet groan, a sharp pain striking her stomach. She couldn't help but steal a glance toward the tray of food the young woman had left. "...Cammie," Mel muttered, contemplating the nature of the word in her mind. 

She couldn't resist it, she was hungry and the warm meal smelled rather inviting. She started to shift toward it, getting closer and closer, sliding along the surface of the bed until she was within arm's reach. At that point she couldn't hold back at all. Getting to her knees she grasped the spoon in one hand, the bowl in the other. Her method of eating reflected her hunger as she practically drank the entire dish, tipping it back and shovling it into her mouth. 

The door was opened a crack, a green eye peering in. Cammie stood outside peeking through the small opening and watching with a satisfied smile as Mel ate. "That's a good girl, eat up," she whispered to herself before breathing a sigh of relief and relaxing against the wall. 

It was only then that she noticed Griffith standing behind her and she immediately jumped back, eyes widening and her hand grasping her chest. "Wha-? Dang it Griff what're you doin'!? You scared me… Ya know for such a big fella you're awfully quiet," Cammie muttered, regaining her composure and taking a deep breath. 

Griffith nodded quietly and took a spot next to Cammie, leaning against the wall beside her. 

"Ah tell ya she's... she's a bit different," Cammie said. "Ah get it, she's probably confused but the way she was actin' well. Well Ah don't think she just got sick and collapsed. Somethin' happened to her Griff, somethin' bad, Ah can tell. She was downright terrified of me." Cammie's eyes drifted toward her feet as she spoke. "We should probably get back to work Griff, those crops need harvestin'."

Night came and went, sleep taking Mel as after some time she was unable to resist. Once more she awoke in the same strange bed, in the same strange room, in the same strange clothes, in the same strange house, in the same strange world. She was still unused to the sunlight but at least it didn't blind her as it did before and in fact she could now appreciate its warmth. 

Drawing up to a sitting position she immediately noticed three things. She was tucked under the covers when the night prior she had passed out on top of them. Her familiar attire sat at the foot of the bed, along with her satchel and there was a small note on the table next to the bed. 

Reaching over cautiously she lifted the note up to her eyes. "G-good mor-morning… Mel?" she read aloud, her voice ringing with curiosity. She stared at it a moment, her brow rising. "Good morning Mel?" she repeated, confused as to what the purpose of the note might possibly be.

She got out of bed, rising up to stand unsteadily in the middle of the room. She felt strange, she wasn't afraid anymore but she still didn't know what to think, she'd never been away from home for this long, or ever. 

She could hear voices, unfamiliar save for Cammie's. They echoed from outside the door. Mel changed clothes quickly, donning her old overalls and white sweater, then creeped towards the door. She pulled it open slightly and peered out, the voices growing louder. Taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly she pulled the door open and stepped into the hall. Her gait was weak and staggering but she managed to make her way out into the sitting room.

As she stepped into the room everyone fell silent. Cammie sat on the sofa along with four unfamiliar people, all scattered about the room. Mel stared at her feet and tried to speak, stalling for several long moments. Nobody said a word, nobody moved, they just watched. "I.. Uhm... Uh... Th-thank you," she breathed. 

Still nobody spoke for a short time until a quiet laugh cut through the silence. "You're welcome darlin'," Cammie replied with a smile, prompting a similar expression to slowly spread across Mel's face.