The first thing she noticed as time froze during his awakening, was his eyes. They were green and shiny, shinier than she had ever seen. Holly's breath was caught in her throat as she had eyed the poor being rasp for breath as if he never breathed in his life. The roots held his chest down, making it hard for his body to take in air.

Holly took her shovel and attacked his bindings, pulling to set him free. No she didn't know him, but she certainly wasn't going to let him suffer. The roots were strong, but the two people used their strength together to weaken and destroy them.

The man rolled to his side and coughed heavily, wheezing into the air at Holly's side. Seeing as he was in pain at that moment, it was in her nature to continue to help him, ignoring the human sized hole behind him. There was no coffin, and it most definitely wasn't a recent bury. The weird thing was the fact that Holly had never seen anything besides her own crops in the field behind her house.

"Who are you?" She asked, more rude than she had meant to come out as. "Why are you on my property?"
He didn't respond at first, mostly because of his greedy need of the air, and because he didn't seem to know he could respond. "Who are you?"
"I asked first," Holly replied quite angrily, losing her patience for the stranger. "Tell me your name right now or I'm calling the cops."

"What are cops?" His answer was so simple and innocent, it actually made him seem like he didn't know. Though in a situation like this, it's likely that no sane person would believe that at first.

"Name. Now."

His expression mellowed into a thinking state that lasted a mere second. "I am called Enoch Camden. And who might you be?"

"What kind of name is that?" Her voice softened as her anger simmered down, happy to have received a response. "Holly Stones."

"Well Miss. Stones, might you tell me where I am? I fear this is not my mother's house." Enoch's voice choked on the words, as if they were rocks in his throat.

"My backyard." She gestured around the four acre land that belonged to her family. Her grandpa and grandma bought it when they had first got married long ago. Holly had moved in with her aged grandparents in the beginning of the summer, so it hadn't been that long.

He chuckled, "I meant what town? Mother will be mad if I am scoundrelling around and late." Enoch looked back behind him, scooting away from the hole. "By God, what am I doing here anyhow?"
"I was hoping to ask you the same thing." Replied Holly as she stood to her feet to brush off her jeans. Afterward she had tried to help him to his as well, though he was terribly weak. "And what are you wearing?" She was simply dumbfounded by the ruffly tunic that billowed at the wrists and the knee high boots that claimed his slim fitting cotton pants. What sort of guy wore that?

"My attire? Shall we talk of yours? Women do not wear what you seem to have as slacks. Where is your dress?" He was clearly in confusion as well.
"I've been wearing jeans all my life. I don't wear dresses."
Holly shuffled forward, carefully draping the man's' arm over her shoulder to guide him to the house. Again, he was astonished by how such a small girl had such attributes, like her strength. "I probably should let Papa see you. I don't know what's going on here."

Enoch stayed in silence, being half-dragged to the house seemed to drain his energy and want to talk, however he seemed to be very awed by his surroundings.

"Have you never seen a farm before?" Holly asked him as they neared the house, "They're not that exciting, so close your mouth before you catch flies."

His eyebrow rose, not knowing what she was saying as his mouth was closed the whole time. "This farm is very colorful. Very neat." Indeed it was as he had said, carefully lined rows of separate bright crops throughout the land. Some plots were just random flowers in boxed in fences of painted logs. There was a shed in the center of the garden, and a small barn on the other side of the lot, in which two cows, a horse and some chickens were sheltered.

She nodded softly, knowing this herself. Holly used the toe of her boot to prop the partially opened door wider. "C'mon. He's in here."

The kitchen was dark when they stepped in, shades drawn and lights off, to keep the room cooler. Enoch sat on a stool next to the counter. One of the old T.V.s sat there, covered in faded stickers from Holly's childhood. He poked at the screen with a finger, "What's this box for?"

"The T.V.? You watch things on it? I know you have a T.V. at your house, it's impossible that you don't." She rolled her eyes and walked out the room, leaving the mysterious boy alone to explore.
"T.V." He inquired, poking at the buttons until the screen flashed on. Enoch had screeched in response, falling to the ground and pointing a shaky finger at the device. "Witchery! Witch!"

"What in God's name-" Said Holly's grandpa as the two burst in the room, "What is happening in here?"

"Witchery, Sir! There is a witch about." Enoch crawled to the old man, clutching on his leg in desperation and fear.

"Witch? Boy, what are you playing at? Witches don't exist." He tore him from his leg and helped him back to his stool, before switching off the T.V. "Now tell me, before I kick you out of this house. Who are you and what do you want?"

Clearing his throat and straightening his composure, Enoch sat tall and looked at the older man in the eye, "My name is Enoch Cadman." The older man's eyes flashed for a mere second, just enough time for Enoch to catch a glance before they narrowed and wrinkled in the corners, as if in thought, "What are you doing in my home?"