Chapter Three

Loud bangs against the door wake me the next morning, it came as no surprise that it was Ed who was up at such an ungodly hour.

"Rise and shine, kid. Get something to eat and meet me out front, a hard day's work awaits."

I don't really bother to reply and soon hear the heavy thuds of his footsteps, signaling that he had left. I'm not exactly the best chef out there, so my breakfast is a simple PB&J sandwich that I wash down with a glass of milk...breakfast of champions, I'll tell you. It's when I get dressed that there is another series of knocks at the door, I choose to ignore them, not in the mood for more of Ed this early in the day. To my misfortune, however, they do not stop. Annoyed and frustrated I make my way to the door.

"What else could you possibly want, you fu-"

I stop once I swing the door open, not to find Ed, but a girl...or a woman rather, a beautiful woman at that.

"Uhm...Hi? Can I help you?"

"Marx Mitchell." She says, completely expressionless.

"In the flesh...who are you?"

"Lydia, Lydia Bell. Edward's daughter, he sent me to give you these." She says, holding out a pair of overalls and boots. I go to thank her and ask what they're for, but she quickly stops me.

"You know, I've heard your music." What is with these one-liners?

"You and just about all of the rest of the world, did you like it? Are you like after an autograph or something?"

"Oh no, not at all. It's meaningless, there's nothing there for me."

"Excuse me?"

"Your music, it carries no meaning. Singing about sex and drugs in each one of your songs makes you no different than any of the other 'artists' in this world. There is nothing unique about you, you're just another one of many. Anyway, Dad wants you out front so you best get going."

She walks off after looking me up and down, as if judging my very existence, whereas I'm left speechless and unsure of what to say.

"Nice meeting you, Marx Mitchell. It was all I expected it to be...how disappointing."

With those words she disappears through the door leading into the kitchen. There is no doubt that she is Ed's daughter, they're basically the same person. With my ego a little bruised and me slightly pissed off, I pull on the worn overalls and boots to make my way to the front of the house. I'm still shocked at how she just dug into me and my music, her words don't sit well with me at all...they irk me. She does not know me, how could she have the audacity to make assumptions and claims about who I really am...about my music?

I am pulled from my thoughts by Ed's voice calling me over to him. "You ready kid?" he asks me, wearing an amused smile across his lips. He knows how to push my buttons and he loves it. I don't reply with words, I just nod my head and follow after him when he starts walking.

"You know, Marx, I'm not really as harsh as I seem. You might find that this here could be a whole lot of fun, if you give it the chance, of course." He says, looking at me over his shoulder. I am surprised by what he said, it was so civil...its weird. After that he doesn't really say much and it gets me thinking that maybe he could be right. At this point I don't have much to lose anyway and it's not like a little hard labor is going to make me lose anything regardless. I could ease up a bit and just give this all a shot, maybe treat it like a break from the kind of hard work I'm used to.

"Where are we going exactly?" I ask, deciding to start taking interest and making an effort.

"We're heading on over to the stables, them horses need a good cleaning, feeding and their stalls need to be cleaned out as well."

"Oh, well...I-I guess that's fine."

"What's the matter, boy?"

"I'm not particularly fond of horses, they uh...they freak me out I guess."

"This'll be interesting then." He laughs, but then continues, "Naw kid, you'll be fine...they ain't nothin' to be scared of."

"I sure hope you're right, I don't really feel like shitting myself or dying today."