To be a Wildflower

Chapter 21

Elizabeth traipsed up the shrubbery path with much determination and for a second there she imagined Jasper waiting for her with a shot gun in his hand, but to her relief the ranch was empty as always. Elizabeth never saw the full landscape of the old cottage beside the ranch. It was covered by tall grass and the roof and porch that was exposed to the eyes almost made it seem as if it was a part of the barn. The fence gate had a flimsy lock of wood slanted across that was shredding away from existence. She didn't have to open the latch, as she could easily hop over it, but a dominant paranoid part of her resisted her from leaping over onto anything no matter how welcoming they looked.

The creaky fence opened to the dry pasture and the paddock, and from the fence gate a vaguely detectable wooden pathway made to look like ladder steps led towards the house where the wood had sunken into the ground and wild roots sprouted around them. It was truly the ruins of a forgotten utopia.

Unattended for many years, the house had worn away that when Elizabeth walked up the porch stairs, she felt the planks wobble and creak underneath her feet voraciously. Carefully watching over her step, she walked to the doorstep which had a tattered carpet. The cottage wasn't completely forgotten, because the potted plants that hung from the ceiling edge were bright, fresh and dewy indicating that someone had tended to them for quite some time.

Bracing herself, Elizabeth knocked twice on the door and waited for a few seconds. There were no sounds of feet shuffling on the other side of the door or even a feeling that someone lived behind that door. She rapped on the door once more and stepped back.

A few minutes dragged on and there was still no answer. Elizabeth's rationality told her Harrison was pretending, but her paranoia overpowered, and she pictured the worst possible things that could fall upon an enraged old man in a lonesome cottage.

"Mr. Crawford, it's me Elizabeth Hartley!" She called out in panic, "I know you're in there just give me a sign if you—

The door rattled violently and flew open in a rush.

"Is this sign alright kid?" Harrison appeared on the doorstep annoyed out of his wits.

"Oh hello, you're okay," she sighed, "can I uh come in?" She asked in a low tone.

"If Jasper sent you here to bring me back don't even bother," he said defensively.

"I don't think Jasper wants to set eyes on me or even hear from me ever," Elizabeth laughed ruefully, then her eyes lowered down, "the whole town eventually. So, you and I have only each other as of this moment. You want to stay away from the town and the town from me. So, I think we can settle down for a deal: you scratch my back I scratch yours?" She shrugged and Harrison was now looking at Elizabeth as if she was the most annoying person he had encountered in his life time.

"Why d'ya'll kids have to talk too much?" He shook his head giving up, "just get in here." He turned and walked in.

The cottage which looked somewhat big was unbelievably cozy on the inside. The wooden floor was engulfed with a plush maroon carpet with a swirly gold pattern and the cobblestone walls dampened the insides cooling the heat. Harrison made it into the living room- a tiny space with an old blue couch that had probably been there for generations, but apart from the fairytale-cottage-in-the-woods vibe, what gave away for her was the cobblestone hearth that had its fair share of cob webs draped around the hardened ashes from lost days.

"T'was a darlin' when the snowstorm came raging back in the day," Harrison said noticing Elizabeth's eyes glued to the hearth in awe, "but with the heat getting' closer to hell, winters didn't make a difference anymore." He scoffed. Elizabeth listened quietly unsure of the right words to be said. She realised in the meantime that the whole place had a vague wood ashy smell infused with the ranch air from outside. It wasn't hard to see why this would be Harrison's escape den, as it circulated the very air he was accustomed to. Most of the cupboards and little abandoned boxes of belongings were draped over with thick grey sheets and the couch was accompanied by a wicker coffee table with a few old books that were left out.