Prologue
"It's good to see you finally out, having a good time." The mayor said happily to May, a busy Friday evening. He put a steady hand on her shoulder, grinning. "I'm surprised it's taken you so long to get out." May sucked back the sigh that wanted to escape her lips. She held the glass of wine in her hand, staring across the saloon.
"Yeah," she said, turning her head. She put on a soft grin, holding up her drink. "It's been a busy season."
She watched the Mayor's eyes flutter away from her own as the door swung open, and the middle aged Rancher, Marnie, walked in. Her thick hair was braided to the side, and her dark brown eyes sparkled staring at the Mayor. She smiled brightly, making a B-line towards us.
"What was that you were saying?" Mayor Lewis asked, his tone disinterested at this point. May watched their eyes linger before they said a word, her subtle smile as she nuzzled her way between the two of us.
"Uh, nothing." May said softly, taking another sip of her wine. "You two have a good night." She smiled at the two of them, and turned, sitting on the mahogany barstool. Gus nodded at her, and slowly walked over.
"Can I get you anything to eat?"
May woke up with an empty stomach again. She crawled out of bed, yawning, barely looking at herself in her vanity mirror. She knew how much weight she had lost, she didn't care much for her appearance anymore. Slipping her old suit case from underneath the aged, spring mattress, she pulled out an old pair of blue jeans, a black tank top, a pair of socks, a bra, and underwear out. Quickly, she changed out of her nightgown and into the last of her clean, spring and fall clothes. She let herself sigh slightly, knowing she'd be hand washing them sometime throughout the week.
Tucking her suitcase back beneath the bed, May stood up, put her hair into a messy bun, and turned to the two chests she tucked between her fire place and television that sat on the floor. She opened the one closest to the tv, the other only holding firewood.
A couple of spring onions were tucked into the bottom, along with a handful of salmon berries an strawberries, a small bag of green beans, another bag filled with extra coffee beans saved from this season's harvest. A single head of cauliflower and four potatoes took up most of the space. May sighed, taking the last handful of berries, a spring onion, and some coffee grinds, and set them on the table; today she'd be having another small breakfast, unfortunately, the largest breakfast she's had since moving to Stardew Valley. May grabbed the metal pail, along with her gifted tools from Mayor Lewis, and walked out of her one bedroom shack.
The morning spring air was cool, and the sun slowly rose above the valley. May slowly walked to the fresh water pond that sat close to her house, her bones feeling stiff, as they did most mornings. Once both her pail and her watering can were filled, she wandered back inside, setting the metal pan in the fire place, while she made her way to do her morning chores.
"No thanks, I'm alright." Said May, smiling at the bar keeper. He grunted, and wandered towards the blue haired waitress, Emily. She watched the two talk, and then glanced around the room. Three of the villagers stood in the backroom, laughing and playing pool in the side lobby, but many of them started to swarm into the building, taking seats and ordering beer. Emily danced between tables, serving drinks and laughing with the customers.
Finally alone, May let the sigh escape her lips. The valley was turning out to be a lot lonelier than she had expected. Many people eagerly introduced themselves at first, many were strangers, whom she only knew from brief conversations with those who she vaguely knew. Afterwards, the idea of a new person in town slowly faded away, leaving her alone on the bar.
Her mind wandered to the busy season she had ahead of her. She barely seen anyone during the month, only the mayor, admiring the town, the local shop keeper named Pierre, and his daughter Abigail, who often stocked the shop. Before the alcohol swam to her head, she quickly did the math one more time, making sure she had enough for her crops next season, a coop, a silo, and two chickens. A smile crawled across her face, her hard work paying off.
"Here." Said Gus, setting a big bowl of spaghetti in front of her, along with another glass of wine.
"I don't.." Started May. "I don't think this is in my budget.
"It's on the house." He stated, taking away my empty glass, an started washing it. His head lifted up, glancing May up and down quickly. "You look a little thin."
May devoured her breakfast, sitting at her small table. Her teeth dug into the green onions, their taste exploding in her mouth. She salivated, taking another bite. She popped a strawberry in her mouth, juicy and bright red. Her coffee was black, and very weak, with no money for milk or cream. She sipped it slowly, feeling awake, and sore.
Smokey, her back cat which was given to her by Marnie, hopped onto May's old bed, and padded her way to her pillow. She curled up, meowing at May, who smiled at her, as she closed her eyes. Finishing her last sip of coffee, she rose, scratched her small cat behind it's ear, and grabbed her fishing rod, tucked into the corner of the room. Catching dinner was next on the list, along with at least five fish to put in her delivery box. Lastly, she'd use her energy to clean the rest of the trees off of her farm. She was so close...
The wooded path behind May's farm led up to the mountains. Whenever the rain came, quickly she'd bustle up the path to the mines that tunnelled into the mountain, or to fish in the beautiful lake there. The path was covered in thick pine trees, surrounded by a wooden fence to keep the woods out.
As May approached the water, she carefully added her bait onto the line, and threw it into the water. She took a seat against the tree, stretching her back against it. It was surprisingly quiet during the afternoon; she enjoyed fishing at the lake more than anywhere, less foot traffic than town, more company than in the forest. The wild man who lives in a tent would often be out foraging. Pierre's daughter, Abigail would play the flute up here. In the distance, by Robin's home, you'd hear the distant sounds of construction, science experiments gone awry, and occasionally, an engine growl.
The sound of mechanics picked up behind her, the sound of tinkering, metal against metal, gears turning and the hum of a soft engine. It'd startle the fish normally, until the look of bait would draw them back over. May glanced around the tree, only seeing the side of the house. She could never figure out what the noise was, whenever she'd finally peak, the machine, along with whoever it was, was gone.
She took a large bite into her spaghetti, slurping up the noodles. She could feel her stomach growling, demanding more, but she paced herself, knowing how little she ate this past season. Flavours of tomato, pasta, meat, onions and garlic danced on her tongue, filling her mouth. She sipped her wine, tasting the tart grapes, and the airy feeling of alcohol started to come over her.
Her head spun slightly, an a feeling of sadness washed over her. Glancing around again, she could see everyone experiencing their lives; the waitress flirting with my neighbour, Shane, Marnie and Mayor Lewis having a deep, private conversation in close quarters. She couldn't see the three in the other room, but their loud laughs came into the noisy tavern. Demetrius and Robin danced in the corner, laughing, drunk. May stared at everyone, wishing to be with anyone of them, anywhere but on this lonely barstool, alone. The more she chewed, each bite that passed her mouth, she could feel herself growing sadder and lonelier each minute that passed.
When her food was finished, she stood out of the chair, staggering. She hadn't had a drink since the night before she moved, with her old friends in her old city. Two glasses left her red faced and unsteady. She reached into her pocket, pulling out 550 g, for the wine and a tip for Emily. Picking up her grey sweater, she stumbled to the door.
"Need help getting home?" Called Gus from behind the bar. May glanced around, feeling the local fisherman, who saved her life and gave her a fishing rod, staring at her. She gave him a sad smile, and turned towards Gus.
"No thanks, I'm alright."
Her chores for the day were finished. A line of clothes sat behind her small house, most of her spring clothes dangling from the line. The trees that once filled her farm were now scarce, and now we're suited with tappers. All in front of her house, the the dirt stood clear of scrap wood and rock, as well as thick brush.
May dined on a thick piece of carp for dinner that night, as well as some boiled potatoes and a bit of cauliflower. She thought about the months she'd spent alone in her wooded farm, her only company being Smokey. The cat mewed by her feet, begging for a scrap of fish, like she would every night. She broke, like she did every night, dropping a small piece of carp, and watching the black cat gobble it up.
Along the wall, she had an old picture of her and her father, and plenty of her and her friends. She looked younger, healthier, happier. Every night, she'd glimpse at her pictures, seeing her friends smiles, their arms around her, and she'd wish for them, and their arms around her. Loneliness hugged her like a quilt, always looming over her. No one sent her a letter since she'd move to the farm, or stopped in for a visit. She'd spend whatever money she could on her cellphone, but no one sent her a text or had called her since a month after she'd left.
Smokey's mew brought her back to life. He purred, rubbing against her legs, and May picked him up, holding him against her chest. She grabbed the last bite of fish in her hand, an carefully fed it to the small cat, while sitting on her bed, staring at her pictures.
"I should go out tonight." She said to the small cat. The cat said nothing, only purred as May's fingers brushed against his silky fur. "I shouldn't sit in here, alone." She said, stroking the cat now. "I should buy myself a glass of wine, and just enjoy myself." She talked more to herself than the cat now. "I have a little bit left over, I should anyway. I can afford a glass of wine for tonight. It won't be that bad." She lifted the cat, rubbing their noses together. "I use to drink a lot, you know."
The cat meowed, squirming in her arms. May set her on the bed gently, running her fingers against her fur. She looked out the window at the darkening sky, it was only 7:30. Quickly, she pulled on her old grey sweater over top of her black tank top, and pulled the hood up. Despite it being late spring, the temperature dropped terribly at night. She threw in an extra log into the fire pit before venturing off into the night.
Her small buzz wore off by the time she got home, all that was left was the vague feeling of a headache coming on. Opening the door, it squealed into the darkness of night. She shut the door behind her, and began peeling off her clothes. Reaching down underneath her bed, she grabbed her last, clean night gown, and pulled it over her head. After untying her hair and brushing it with her fingers, she took a seat on the bed, beside Smokey who slept on the pillow, right tucked into the wall. Her hands brushed her soft fur, staring down at the cat, the only friend she had.
She caught a glimpse of herself in the vanity mirror for the first time in a month. She couldn't see the outline of her body, thank Yoba, for she knew she lost a lot of her weight; she could see her hip bones, her belly had disappeared, she could feel her collar bone more prominent now. Her face was gaunt, her hair was nearly a rats nest, and her neck was thin. She combed her hair back with her fingers, staring at her eyes. She stopped wearing make up, her moles and beauty marks were much more visible.
She rose up, and tossed her sweater over the mirror.
After checking the weather network, May crawled under the covers, the flames from the fire place warming the cool shack. Her fingers brushed her cat once more. "Good night, Smokey." She whispered, closing her eyes. She felt exhausted, barely having time to think before she fell asleep. The first thought was of making friends. It's time to make a change.
Her last thought was always the same though. How did grandpa live like this?