Haven
Based on Harvest Moon: Animal Parade
Hey there! I really don't like long author's notes, so I'll keep this short. I love Harvest Moon, so here's a harvest moon fanfic. If you haven't played Animal Parade (which you should), don't worry, the characters in that game are the same in Tree and Tranquility. The only difference is that it's a coastal town, and instead of flowers there are bells.
If you're currently reading Extenuating Circumstances, (my Bleach/Naruto fic) I haven't stopped. I'm waiting for my wonderful beta-reader to send me the next chapter with his suggested revisions. So hold tight, it'll come.
Anyways, I hope you like this fic! Thanks for reading! Please review, even if you didn't like it!
Full Summary: After spending nine years traveling the world with her adventurous family, seventeen-year old Mary returns to her childhood home, the island of Castanet. On a quest to find the chipped piece of the blue bell, she, Roy –an old friend and romantic interest- and a small sprite named Finn team up to seek the help of the Harvest God; only instead of finding the piece, the quest leads to unearthed deception, and the true reason her mother agreed to leave Castanet all those years ago.
xXx
The Middle East was incredibly beautiful as well as mysterious. Three years of my life were spent living in a clay house with my family in the middle of a small Egyptian village. The people were hospitable to us foreigners, and I rather liked the unique cuisine the area had to offer. Our neighbor had a daughter my age, named Evonka who I quickly befriended.
I had inherited my mother's brain in a sense that, like her, I learned things quickly. The language came easy to me after a year, and within months I adapted and picked up the customs of the people. However, we weren't fully in Egypt for cultural purposes. My father, the great adventurer Calvin, was intrigued by the Egyptian tombs. Thus, after six years of travelling through Europe we settled in a country of warm sand and old artifacts. My father took us on adventures often, but unlike my brother Mitchell I wasn't too interested in it. Rather than invest my time in secret tunnels and mummies, I helped my mother with a small garden at the back of our house.
Truth be told, when it came time to pack our things and leave, I had a harder time saying goodbye to that garden than I did my closest Egyptian friend, Evonka. My mother and I had put so much effort into the fresh fruit and flowers. Every morning I would wake up in the hopes that the plants were sprouting or ripe. When I wasn't being home-schooled by my mother or hanging out with Evonka, I was in that tiny little garden.
Now I stood on the edge of the village, a small Jeep packed with our small possessions and prizes ready to take us away. Evonka was in front of me, her eyes watering from the emotion. Apparently she was more of a sister to me than I thought.
Weeping, she pulled me into a tight hug. Instantly my face was buried in her dark hair. "I'll take good care of your garden, Mary!" She mumbled incoherently between sobs. I relaxed and hugged her back.
Maybe I would miss Evonka more than I thought. All those afternoons we spent walking through the village, laughing at my lame jokes and her uncanny ability to rant without breathing. I felt my own eyes shine with tears that I grudgingly fought against. I smiled at the memories and held her tighter. "I swear I'll come back and visit." I managed to say, the promise directed more towards my garden than Evonka.
Her family, who had grown closer to my own, said goodbye to us as well. We sniffled, laughed, and hugged, two families united by a sisterly bond; or at least, that's what Evonka always used to say. After half-an hour of the same things I finally climbed onto the Jeep next to Mitchell. The engine just barely started, grumbling and emitting various puffs of smoke where necessary. I heard my father laugh in the front seat, evoking a small comment from my mother. Whatever it was, I wasn't listening. I clutched the side of the vehicle and waved to Evonka, my eyes consistently straying to our clay house on the mountain side. Goodbye good friends, goodbye my garden.
I could tell my mother felt stressed within ten minutes of the car ride to the coast, where a boat would be waiting to take us back home. I didn't fully understand why she looked so distraught, but a comforting pat on the shoulder by my father told me it was because of the garden. Here I realized she and I had something more in common than our smarts; we would both miss those green vines and vibrant fruits exceedingly.
The ride to the coast felt discerningly short. To keep my mind off the garden I played "Eye Spy" with Mitchell, and won incredulously. Every time I quickly pointed and spat out the answer in one try he'd puff and push my shoulder, effectively shaking the Jeep. It was fun until our mother became irritated and barked at us to stop.
Only a moment after our little game was over my thoughts drifted to Castanet. The place I was born, the home I had taken my first steps in… It all came flooding back to me. We had friends there, family friends so close they were practically our relatives. There in Castanet the people were friendly and welcoming, as well as attractive. I distinctly remembered the names of a very specific family. Owen and Kathy were a nice married couple, and alluring in a meat-and-potatoes kind of sense. Owen was a big, burly man who once had a small crush on my mother, while his wife was a very energetic and curvaceous blond.
How in the world a man like that ever came to like my mother I'll never know. She is, perhaps, the plainest woman of the whole village. Unfortunately, I inherited her simple brunette hair and round features. Involuntarily I ran a hand through my longer brown hair, eventually turning it into a braid to pass the time. So simple…I silently desired my father and brother's sandy blond hair. Perhaps then boys might take an interest in me... Just then a specific boy came to mind but I pushed his memory back.
We eventually came to the coast, where a familiar boat waited for us. Jumping out of the Jeep, my father approached the boat in a stride. He came to the pier and stood at the edge, waving hands at the deck.
"Pascal!" He shouted at a sailor with his back to us. Curiously I followed suit and came to my father's side, leaving Mitchell and my mother to unload our cargo.
At mention of his name, the sailor spun around. His face instantly brightened at the sight of us, and he stumbled down the ramp and to the pier. The man was very old, but familiar. Somewhere in the recesses of my mind I knew Pascal. The now white hair and beard, accompanied by the hat and stripe shirt, were all very familiar to me. As a child I came to him often, for what I didn't seem to remember…
Pascal shook my father's hand robustly, eventually pulling the man into a hug. "Good to see ya'!" He rumbled appreciatively. "You haven't changed a bit. Still puttin' yourself in dangerous mines I bet?"
My father chuckled. "No, not mines, Egyptian tombs." He corrected, grinning wildly.
My fifteen-year-old brother stomped towards us. "Hey Pascal," He said maturely, though I could tell it was with effort. Mitchell was just like my father, not only in looks but in personality. Adventure excited him, and I knew at the mention of tombs he'd come running to the conversation. Eventually he was followed by my mother, our cargo left next to us on the pier.
"Thank you so much for picking us up, Pascal," my mother said sweetly, brushing a strand of her short hair behind her ear exhaustedly. She offered her hand, but like my father she was pulled into a big hug.
Pascal released her, looking quite happy to see her. "It's no problem, Anna. Y'all know I'd never say no to ya'." It was then his old, wise eyes turned to me. Pascal gently took my hand, patting it. "You've grown so much…look just like your mother did when I first sailed her o'er to Castanet." Of course, he focused intently on my eyes, the only thing about me that didn't resemble my mother. They were a near-orange, golden hue, a startling contrast to the basic colors of both my parents. Thankfully, Pascal didn't mention it. The eyes were already so embarrassing as it was…
Quickly Pascal returned to his loud, sailor-self as he wildly gestured to the boat. "Let's get a move on, shall we. Don't wanna waste time dilly-dallyin'." He spoke, joining my parents in carting the cargo on board.
Mitchell and stayed put on the pier as to not get in the way. Even so, he turned to me with his eyebrows raised. "Since when did you know Pascal so well?" He asked, obviously having taken note of Pascal's strange familiarity with me. While Pascal hadn't even said a word to Mitchell, I got a whole sentence.
Though I couldn't remember why. I had only the brief flash of a memory; I was seven and I was on Castanet's worn down pier. I couldn't remember it all, but somewhere in talking with him I might have mentioned a 'Harvest God'. The idea was absurd, and I merely shrugged my shoulders in response. "I dunno," I told Mitchell.
The two of us wandered onto the boat after the loading was done. We both lend a hand in bringing the ramp onboard, followed by the gentle rumbling of the boat as it started to sail, slowly.
With my life-jacket on I hung out at the front, leaning against the rail. We picked up speed quickly, some water sloshing up on deck with the initial first few waves. My reflection in the water was a jumbled mess of colors, but in all of those colors I could make out my eyes. Golden and shining, frighteningly bright. My face fell. I thought that the foreign environments of our nine years of traveling might dim or change the color, but that was just wishful thinking.
The wind rapped at my face, eventually unraveling the nice braid my hair was in. I sighed in discontent after several tries to make it nice again, before eventually giving up. The wind was too strong; I'd have to go somewhere else to braid my hair.
I strolled below deck to the drab booth my family sat in. I took a seat next to my father. They were talking about Castanet and our old home. When I arrived, my mother had been suggesting they refurnish the house a bit, perhaps even repainting and such to make it fit our older tastes. I smiled at the suggestion. There was no way in hell I'd sleep around the same stuffed bunnies and dinosaur wallpaper that I had as a child.
"Glad you joined us Mary, we almost thought you'd fallen overboard." My father teased, ruffling the already knotted hair on my head. Normally I would have laughed with him, but at the moment I was preoccupied with our living arrangements.
"I'm going to have my own room, right?" I asked skeptically, eyes directed to my mother. After all, it was her house.
She pursed her lips. "Only on one condition," she informed me as she folded her hands over the table, avoiding my eyes.
I narrowed my eyes. Already I didn't like the sound of this. "What's the condition?" I inquired, and when my mother wouldn't say it I looked to my father. He also seemed silent, almost sure that I wouldn't like what he was about to say.
"Well, you know how our old friends at Horn Ranch took in our animals before we left Castanet, right?" He asked, this time looking to Mitchell as well. The both of us nodded numbly, I could already tell where this was going. "As soon as we return, the first thing we'll be doing is buying back the animals still alive and some more, as well as re-planting the garden…" He mentioned the garden with some hope, knowing my obvious green-thumb.
My mother elusively cut in. "We need you and your brother to help out on the Farm. Maybe take turns between the plants and the animals…?" She looked hopeful.
I, however, was aghast. They knew the last thing I wanted was to become a farmer. Sure, I loved gardening, but our tiny Egyptian garden was nothing to the three plots of land I'd have to sow, water, harvest… Already my arms felt heavy and sore. "Are you kidding me?" I barked, "Isn't that your responsibility. It's your farm!" I accusingly pointed a finger at both parents.
My father raised his hands defensively. "Don't worry; it's not as hard as it looks. And your mother and I will be helping out occasionally…"
Mitchell quickly interjected. "Fine, that's all good and cool and all, but what will you be doing?" Ah, my younger brother, he had such a way with words.
Again my father was quick to respond. He was always the better of the two adults when it came to calming us down. "Well, Mitchell, we'll be rebuilding the house to accommodate us. Within months it'll be a bigger, nicer home with a separate room for both you and your sister. We've already enlisted the help of Roy." He paused, quickly turning to me. "You must remember Roy, you and him were friends when you were kids.
I felt my stomach drop at the mention of his name. I'd been trying to forget about him, put everything about him aside. But now he was thrown back in my face. Yes, I remembered Roy. We weren't just friends, we were best friends. Roy was my accomplice in childish crime, and our chubby faces would allow us to get away with anything… But that didn't stay the same. As we got older, things changed. The day before my family left, Roy proclaimed to me certain feelings, feelings that I couldn't reciprocate. I'd effectively severed our friendship in half, and I was only eight…
There was no telling what I could do at seventeen.
Instantaneously I wished Evonka was with me, so she could sit next to me and console me. After all the years my only regret was my harsh rejection of Roy. We were only kids, and even though I was sure he'd have forgotten by now, I knew I never would. I had intended to return to Castanet with my head held high, to forgive myself and treat Roy fairly. Besides, I highly doubted such a small little crush would have lasted through nine years.
Despite my obvious discomfort with the topic, my family went on to enthuse about the new house. The plans were made, the material gathered. Mitchell had volunteered to help too rather than milk cows and sheer sheep, but he was denied. My father seemed to think the only help he needed was Roy, and maybe the local Carpenters Luke or Bo.
Still, I was heavily distracted to reminisce with them about the carpenters. While they gushed about Luke and Selena's second child on its way, I was entrapped in my own thoughts; my fears. The greatest fear I had was that, when I returned, Roy would no longer view me as a friend. His friendship was one I could not afford to lose.
Eventually the sun set and I drifted off to sleep. Knowing me the descent to slumber was anything but graceful; it was likely I fell forward and hit my head on the table, mouth open and snoring. Nonetheless, however I slept, I still got some good hours of sleep in.
When I finally woke up it was early morning, the boat was tied up, and there was a crowd of villagers waiting at the pier to greet us.
xXx
Did I expect everyone to change? Yes. But I would have never guessed how severe the changes would have been. Hastily I re-braided my hair as I scrubbed the drool off my face to greet them, Mitchell laughing at me while we walked to the deck. I wanted to appear like I had grown up, matured like I assumed my old school friends might have. Though quickly I learned the effort was unnecessary, that it wouldn't help at all.
The moment I sleepily stumbled down the ramp and looked over the crowd, I inwardly choked on my own surprise. The children I had gone to school with were nowhere to be seen. In their places stood brave adults who stood apart from their parents, clustered at the back of the crowd. They seemed to gawk at me, or more likely my eyes. It was perplexing. I'd seen my reflection in the water; my eyes couldn't be any different than when I left Castanet nine years prior.
My bag clutched tightly in my fists, I followed my family and Pascal down the ramp. The pier was shaky under the combined weight of the whole village. My nervous fear of drowning in a pier accident didn't seem so foolish anymore, and I quickly made a beeline for the stable concrete of Castanet's business district.
A hand on my shoulder stopped me, and I was about to violently push out of their grasp until I saw who it was. Vivian had my arm, a gentle smile on her face. I hardly recognized her. She looked nothing like the eight-year old friend I'd left behind. Her features had changed, and she had finally grown into her ears. Her dark eyes looked intently into mine, and if it wasn't for the smile she had I would have thought she was calculating how to kill me. Vivian just had one of those faces. Who could blame her; she was Mayor Hamilton's granddaughter…
Vivian pulled me into a quick embrace. "Gosh Mary, you've changed so much." She said, sounding somewhat shaky. No doubt she had noticed my hair, braided exactly how it always was when I was a child. Once she pulled away I got a look at what she wore. She was stylish yet mature in her khaki skirt, fitted blouse and silver flats. Her light hair was pulled back into a bun, allowing me to see the pearls the adorned her ears. The office-look had always been Vivian's style, no doubt influenced by her father, Gill. Needless to say, I wasn't surprised.
"You've grown so much more." I exaggerated sarcastically. Mentally I slapped myself for the comment. I had always been a harsh, serious child always pretending to laugh when something was funny. This time, however, I had to remind myself that my friends weren't the same innocent children anymore. Vivian's face recognized my tone and she frowned. The feeling of guilt swept up my inside in a title wave.
"Vivian, I'm so sor-" I didn't finish my apology, for near where my family greeted their old neighbors a second teen approached.
"You didn't think you'd get to walk away without saying hi to me, did you?" An outgoing, purple-haired girl called out as she closed the distance between us. I recognized her anywhere. It was Angie, the daughter of Candace and Julius. Looking back to the crowd I saw her parents, and her father was as fashion-forward as ever; no, not her mother, her father.
This time I offered a sincere smile. No more would I be distant and harsh. Too many people avoided me in Egypt for that. I was determined to live in Castanet with many friends and all of my dignity intact.
I forced a laugh. "Of course not!" We hugged briefly before Angie stood next to Vivian. It was then I noticed the girls' intent gaze at me eyes. Their attentions made me want to curl up in a ball and roll away into the ocean. Anywhere I wouldn't be subjected to the embarrassment.
It was my own brother, Mitchell, who had the guts to say what they both wouldn't. He came to my side and patted me on the back. "You must be so happy, sis. Your cat-eyes almost look…orange?" The hesitation in his voice worried me. Instantly I dropped my things and retreated to the edge of the pier, once again glowering at my reflection.
He was right, though. My eyes were orange. A bright, fiery, orange. The sight caught me off guard, and I nearly fell backwards. I wiped at the sides of my faces nervously. "Wha-?" Without warning the color dulled, returning to the golden hue it was on the boat. Needless to say, when I turned back to the three others we were all increasingly suspicious.
"It was probably just the lighting," Vivian meekly consoled.
"I'm sure we're all just imagining things, since we haven't seen you for so long, Mary!" Angie added.
I considered their words and agreed, momentarily distracted to the mountain in the horizon. I'd never been near the mines, my mother had forbade me to get anywhere near the mountain, and that included the small businesses that littered its base near the top of the waterfall. It was then I looked back to the group, only to note a certain male striding towards us.
He was tall, and lean. The muscles he had were nowhere near as impressive as his father's, but nobody seemed to care. Both Vivian and Angie swooned at his face, which I merely gawked at. Over the years his face had become more angular, certain features more defined. His red hair, which had been wild and unkempt as a child, was now nicely framing his forehead with one or two loose bangs. Unlike the others, his skin was tan. If I hadn't known better, I would have thought he'd lived in Egypt, too.
Roy was no longer a boy, he was a man. The same conversation I had played out to apologize to him wasn't suited for the Adonis currently approaching. I had to rethink my strategy, one that would no longer include our friendship. So much had changed, and I realized then that no matter how deep our past intertwines, things could never be the same. I couldn't be friends with him when every time I'd look at him I'd be drawn to his skin, or his lips. That would make things complicated, and confusing. On the boat I may have told myself to be brave, but facing Roy was harder said than done. Like a lost puppy I grabbed my stuff and turned to Mitchell.
"Tell mom and dad that I'm going to house, okay?" He nodded, and I quickly turned to Angie and Vivian. "It was great seeing you guys." I backpedaled away from the group, all the while smiling nervously to them. "We should, uh… hang out sometime, kay?" I stuttered, turning my back and rushing away without a response.
Out of sight from the pier and its miniature party I ran for it, my arms bobbing up and down with the luggage in my hands. Things were so much different here at Castanet than I remembered, and not just the people. Leaving the coastal business district I came across one of the beaches, which was selectively closed off by a red-and-white wooden sign. I came to it and looked over. The beach, one of my favorite places (especially then since I came to love the sand in Egypt) was wrecked. Various jumbled seaweed or garbage littered the surface. Not only that, but there was hardly a beach showing. The tide was up incredibly high, lapping at the base of the pathway that was blocked.
I put the strange beach activity out of my mind and continued onward to the house, which wasn't far away. The house, thankfully, was still upright but looked somewhat damaged. Our plots of land were cleared of any life; the soil appeared dry and was littered with weeds. I sighed at it, knowing I'd be the one to clear the weeds out. The barn and coop next to the house were severely damaged. In the barn's roof I spotted a gaping hole, from what I didn't know. Either way it wasn't really my problem; it was Roy's problem.
The door of the house opened and I froze, thinking it might have been a criminal. I was still unaccustomed to the neighborly unlocked doors in this coastal town. The cities in Europe we have visited were infested with crime, and I had gotten so used to the security alarms and bolted doors that I nearly threw my luggage at the two figures that came out of the house. I was only yards away, close enough to make a good hit.
With my luggage held violently above my head, I felt like a complete idiot when I saw it was only Toby and Renee. They were a young couple, far younger than any other I knew. (Though any stranger would be suspicious of Toby's white hair.) The fisherman and his wife looked at me peculiarly, before shrugging nonchalantly and walking towards me.
I lowered my weapon and dropped the baggage on the ground. A hand over my heart, I breathed to calm the adrenaline currently shooting throughout my veins. "I thought you two were criminals or something…" I breathed.
Renee giggled. "It's so good to see you all grown up, Mary. It feels like it was only yesterday you, Roy, and Matt were playing out in Flute fields." Ah yes, there was another one of my friends. Matt was their gentle, reliable son who I felt was my long-lost brother. I entrusted him with anything, and I hoped he hadn't changed as much as anyone else.
"Where is Matt?" I asked, considering I hadn't seen him at the welcoming party.
Toby sighed. "He's probably out fishing somewhere, probably at the river on the mountaintop." The man sighed a second time, increasingly distressed. "Something so weird has been happening lately. The ocean's been acting up, and the whole village was worried that today there would have been a storm too strong for Pascal to bring you and your family home."
I nodded like I understood, when in truth, I didn't. I hadn't been told anything about wild ocean waters or storms. I'd been kept out of the loop. Storms and typhoons were serious things in Castanet, where the majority of the people survived off of agricultural living. There was no industry here, only farms and ranches.
"So," Renee cut in, "I hear you're going to help out on the Farm this time." She had her eyebrows raised high, obviously looking for affirmation. I ground my teeth together.
"Not to whole farm," I responded, sounding a little too relieved, "Just the land. I'll be planting and harvesting." I sideways glanced at the fields of nothing but weeds. I was going to hate it. Hey, at least there was a pond by the third field that I could drown myself in if things got too hard. The thought was so sadistic I frowned at myself. There I went again, being cold and distant. But this time, not to my friends, to myself.
Despite my inner quarrel, the couple before me seemed oddly pleased. It was a suspicious sort of pleased I saw in their eyes. Instinctively I narrowed mine.
Renee was the first to speak. "We've been taking good care of your family's farm animals at my parents Ranch while you were away, but that wasn't the only thing we took in. A long time ago Matt told us about your kitten, Chex…"
I'd almost forgotten about Chex. We found the homeless kitten when I was only six, and I had adored it ever since. I let it sleep in my bed, and it followed me around. The two of us were inseparable, and any of my young friends were quick to notice. Chex was the first form of responsibility I'd ever have, but like a cruel child I left the animal behind when we left Castanet. My heart sunk into my stomach when I remembered poor Chex, meowing hopelessly at my little form as I scampered around my room and packed. Back then I was so excited to see the world and all of its wonders that I forgot about my own little wonder at home.
However, I felt significantly brighter when I repeated Renee's words in my mind. My mood was lifted especially when Toby mentioned Chex being the first animal they took in for us, and my excitement was enormous. I forgot about our conversation and ran to the house, stumbling over my own feet. I threw the luggage down on the inside, watching it bounce on the couch as I rushed to my room. Past our kitchenette, past my parent's bed, and into the room Mitchell and I shared.
The push of the door alerted a certain Tabby sitting at the windowsill that its master was home.
xXx
I sat on my old twin bed for hours recapturing Chex in my arms and heart. I stroked his side lovingly, adoring how he purred and curled up in my embrace. Chex was an older cat now. His energetic, exciting kitten personal had long since gone and was replaced with a matured form. Like my friends, he had grown up too. I enjoyed Chex's company, and talked to him knowing that in the house I was alone and safe from prying ears.
I spoke about Europe and all the cities I'd seen, the same monuments I'd studied in Castanet's schoolhouse. Paris and the Eiffel Tower, England and the Big Ben, it was all magnificent but nothing compared to my adventures in Egypt. In reality, the adventures were nothing. I'd went tomb-wandering with my father only once, and it didn't really interest me. My adventure was my tiny garden, with its exotic plants and soil.
My rambling continued on to talk about leaving Egypt, Evonka, and the garden. Of course, I blabbered about my upcoming job as a farmer, which now didn't seem like such a big deal considering how much I went on about my garden back at Egypt.
In the end, I was thankful for Chex's company. I finally had someone to talk to who would listen and accept what I had to say. I made a boatload of realizations about my upcoming job, and my behavior to Roy when I went off in jabbering to Chex. The cat readily listened to everything, occasionally stretching his limbs but nonetheless very attentive to me. He was all the company I needed.
My behavior to Roy was appalling, now that I looked at it more. What kind of old friend was I when I walked away from him only hours ago? It was a despicable move of mine. Albeit I would rather have the dreaded conversation about our friendship with him in private, I shouldn't have walked away. I could have asked Vivian and Angie to give me some space and time, and I sure as hell could have pushed Mitchell into the ocean if he started to bug me about Roy.
The door to the main room of the house opened up and I froze, zipping my lips. I heard my parents enter, followed by Mitchell. They were consumed by their own gossip, once again talking about Selena's oncoming second child. (Pregnancies were big things in this town, apparently.) I cradled Chex in my arms and walked out of the room. They all sat around the table, various dishes of food in their hands.
My mother looked up and saw me first. "Hey honey. I see you've found Chex, Renee and Toby stopped by the pier to tell us. Hey, did you know Matt's going to take over the family ranch?" She told me.
No, I didn't know, but to save time I pretended like I did. "Oh, yeah. Totally." I mumbled uncaringly, plopping Chex down on the open chair next to my mother. He purred and looked up at the food on the table. "So, how'd it go?" I asked them, leaning over the table.
My father elaborated for me, taking off his cowboy hat and resting it on the table near the tin-foil wrapped food. "It went very well. Seems the villagers put together a homecoming feast for us." He gestured to the food, his expression softening when he focused on me. "You should have been there; everybody was so looking forwards to seeing you again."
Mitchell chuckled. "They said they missed your usual 'spunk', if only they knew what your spunk was like now." He openly mocked me. He knew how bad I was at conversing with people, how fake I had to appear to be to make them like me. If I was my real self they saw, they wouldn't like me nearly as much. Not to mention I was destined to disappoint. Castanet still remembered the happy little eight-year old that had not a care in the world… the seventeen year old version of her was very different.
My mother sighed at Mitchell. "Nonetheless, so many people were eager to see you. You should have been there." She told me, expecting me to feel bad about abandoning them.
"Oh how horrible it must have been without me, then. A whole town of people equipped with excessive hugging and tray after tray of free food." I expressed dramatically. "The agony you must have felt in their embrace! How atrocious their happy smiles and warming personalities must have been to face all alone, without me! Ah, if only I was th-"
My mother's face fell. "That's enough," she told me, not amused. Though my brother and father were very amused, both stifling laughter.
While both my parents worked to unravel and drool over our delicious gifts, I continued the chit-chat. "I know your dying to give me the gossip." I told them, specifically my mother who had always had a knack for rumors. She flocked to gossip faster than a soccer mom at a Macy's 50% off sale.
She smiled thankfully at me. "Well, you'll never believe how everything's changed." And thus she went off, retelling everything she'd heard from the others. It seemed Jin and Anissa's son, Van (who fifteen, like Mitchell), has just recently learned how to swim. It was about time, considering Castanet was an island. Though that wasn't even the most appalling the "scandalous" news, most people were ecstatic to hear that Selena and Luke were having a second child. Other than my own parents, they seemed to be the only other couple in the entire island to want two children. My mother's tone darkened when she came to the last bit, an upcoming funeral.
Ramsey, the blacksmith and Roy's father's mentor had died of a stroke not long ago, and the funeral was scheduled for Wednesday. Hearing the news I nearly choked on my pasta. As a child I met Ramsey early on in my friendship with Roy. He was an important figure to not only Roy, but Roy's father Owen and his aunt, Chloe. I sincerely wished to give my heart out to them in their mourning. To me, Ramsey had always been such a nice old man, despite his occasionally cross moments.
Together as a family we ate only a little of the food, for most of the time our mouths were occupied with talking about Castanet. I sat numbly at my seat for the most of it, while my father and mother reminisced on their days here as young adults. Turns out they were closer friends with the others here than I thought. Very briefly I heard the Garmon Mine area mentioned, but my mother was quick to meaninglessly change the subject. For some reason, she never wanted me to step foot near the mountain. I, however, wouldn't let anything stop me.
Her resistance to me going to Garmon Mine only made my want stronger, and it was a lasting effect. Even then, as I poked at the food with a fork, I knew I had to go and find out what was happening up there. Garmon Mine was Roy's ancestry, typically. When they were younger he practically gushed about the place and his Auntie Chloe, who lived up there. I'd met Chloe, but only when she came down to the bar to visit her brother, his wife, and their young son. Not once had I bothered to see the things on the mountain, and I regretted it.
Even so, I knew I had to postpone this adventure. Ramsey's funeral was coming up in two days, and going up there within the grieving period would be a very foolish idea. Until things cooled down, I would remain locked at sea level. The thought in mind I excused myself for bed. I picked Chex up and strode to the room, listening to my family's talk recede.
Dressed in the pajamas I'd packed I crawled into my old twin bed, uncomfortably squished together due to its small size. Nonetheless, I was more comfortable then if Chex hadn't been there with me, curled up at my side.
I slowly inhaled the scent of my old room, musty and aging. Nonetheless, I acknowledged the scent as my home. In Europe things had never felt this comfortable, and no matter how much I liked the Egyptian sands I was never able to fall asleep so easily as I could here, in Castanet. As I drifted off to sleep, a smile crept up on my chin. Finally, I had found home.
Now, how long would it last?
