He picked it up and it immediately slipped out of his fingers, hitting a rug on the floor and rolling beneath the bed.
Whatever strength he had was gone, his muscle memory shot.
How long had he been out?
He felt like a partially charged phone with just enough power to turn on momentarily but not enough to function properly. He didn’t bother attempting to find the glass and pour the water. Instead, he took the pitcher with both hands and guzzled the contents. He felt like a man who’d walked out of the desert. Colby set it back down and wiped his mouth. He swung his legs out, scrunching his toes on the fluffy rug.
He tried to rise.
He wobbled, steadying himself with a hand.
His bones felt like liquid as if there was nothing solid to hold him upright. Colby tried again, this time he stumbled and fell on the hardwood floor, taking a gray blanket and sheet with him.
He curled in a fetal position. Breathing hard. Trying to summon strength. Where am I? That’s when he heard someone approach the door. It creaked open and he turned to see a young girl, no older than nine. Her eyes widened. “Grandma! Grandma, he’s awake.” He extended out a hand toward her but she bolted.
“No, come back,” he said. He groaned as he tried to get up again but got tangled in the sheet. He landed hard on his knees.
A storm door slammed, someone jogged toward his room.
A moment, then a big woman loomed in the doorway, filling it, staring down.
She had wiry gray hair that was parted in the middle and pulled down tight over the top of her ears and around the back. She wore spectacles and a drab brown dress that was filled by the swell of her bosom. Below that a blue apron with some scripture on the front about how you can do all things through Christ.
“Oh, good Lord,” she said, immediately lifting a hand to shield her eyes. “Cover yourself, young man.”
He glanced down and realized again that he was naked.
“Where are my clothes?”
“You had none.”
“What?”
She looked flustered, slightly red in the cheeks. “We can talk about this in a moment. Please cover yourself. There is a child present.” Two beady eyes appeared around the corner. A smirk followed. The old woman placed a hand over her eyes, but the girl could still see through the fingers. Colby grasped the white sheet quickly and covered his nether regions before the woman assisted him back into bed.
His brow wrinkled with confusion. “Where am I?”
“Our home. The Manning farm. My name is Carol, and that is Jenna, my granddaughter.” She turned, and Jenna was leaning up against the door. She was a pretty little thing, short dark hair, oval face, huge wide eyes, white T-shirt, blue jean jacket, green shorts, and sporting black Converse sneakers. She wore a curious smirk and observed him like some fairground oddity. The girl placed a hand over her mouth and giggled.
“Jenna, go and make some tea.”
“But I want to…”
“Jenna.”
She groaned. “Okay.”
Jenna dragged her feet as she walked away, then stopped behind the wall to listen before Carol told her to get her butt in gear. “Young lady.”
“All right. I’m going.” She laughed.
Colby heard her wander off.
“How are you feeling?”
“Um.” The head fog still hadn’t cleared. “Like a Mack truck has hit me.”
“Yes, you were in a bad state when you arrived. I see the color has come back to your cheeks. That’s good. Cuts are healing up nicely. Jebediah will be pleased.”
“Who?”
“My husband. Jebediah. He’s gone into town. He should be back soon.”
Colby nodded. Everything felt foreign. He looked around. Took in the sight of a bookcase through the open door, the spines suggested they were religious books. His mind scrambled for answers. For the familiar but there was nothing to hold on to.
“How long have I been here?”
“Four days.”
He balked. “Four days?”
She nodded. “My husband brought you here in the dead of night. Found you in our field, strung up where the scarecrow used to be. You were wearing the hat, the shirt, and pants Jebediah had used. That scarecrow had been on the ground for weeks. Made him wonder why it was up. Scared the living daylights out of Jenna when you moved.” She stared. Up close, Colby noticed soft features. Fine lines that spread at the corners of her eyes and across her forehead. Old age had been kind to her. She sat on the edge of the bed, hands in her lap. “Do you know how you ended up in our field?”
He shook his head. “No.”
There weren’t even any fragments that he had to work with, it was just a blank slate.
“What’s your name?”
He opened his mouth to reply then closed it.
It was like someone had placed a cloak over his memory. It was right there on the tip of his tongue, but for the life of him, he couldn’t recall. “I… I don’t know.”
“It’s okay. Then what do you remember?”
He closed his eyes, hoping that might help. He tried to concentrate. Focus. Everything was so vague and hazy. A jumbled mess that didn’t make sense. He opened his eyes. Carol studied him. “Huh. That knock to the back of your head must have done a number on you.”
“Knock?”
“Yes, there was a nasty gash on the back of your head. Strangely, it looked older, as if it had healed slightly. I mean, in comparison to the other wounds you had.” She looked as if she was fishing for information, insights, anything that could tell her who this naked stranger was, but he had nothing, at least not then.
The sound of galloping caught their attention.
Carol tapped his leg as she rose. “That will be Jebediah.” She went over to the window and peered out. “Yep. That’s him. I’ll go and let him know you’re awake. He’ll want to speak to you. I’ll get you some
