Author's Notes: Well, here she is! I've been working on this for a while, and it's finally ready! Yaay! :D Although when I started this crazy little oneshot, it was different thing entirely, I'm actually really happy with how this turned out!
So! This oneshot came about when I was playing AWL, and I kept wondering why Murrey was never able to go back to his precious 'Po-po Valley,' even after I gave him so much money (this was before I found out that there's an actual in-game event where he goes home... But, hey. I like this version better! ^o^)And then, he was always stealing stuff from my farm, and... Yeah. I guess my mind just likes to make twisted, creepy explainations to unanswered questions?
Oh, and in case any one is confused by the names, 'Hanako' and 'Tanako' are the names of the flies that circle Murrey's head. I knew that he had mentioned them, once, but it's been a while and I had to google it to make sure... Please correct me if I'm wrong! :)
So, enjoy! And let me know what you think!
Disclaimer: I don't own Harvest Moon.. If I did, no one would play it, because I would make crazy stories like this.
Beggars Can't Be Choosers
"Will you give me some money, moi?"
The young farmer stopped, glancing down at the unclothed hobo by his feet. He gazed at the pleading face, back at the small pile of coins held in his clenched hand, then over to the humble country bar where he had hoped to spend a quiet evening, internally debating what to do in such a situation.
Pity and guilt shone clearly on the compassionate man's face, his visage contorting in strange expressions as he warred with his conscience. Jack had so hoped that, if he had managed to avoid eye contact with the miniscule beggar, he would be able to make it to the Blue Bar without worry…
Murrey saw this conflict, and acted on it. "I need money so I can go back to Po-po Valley. Please, moi," he added. Because Murrey was always polite.
They stared for a moment, the richer of the two not knowing what he could possibly say to deter the little fellow. Finally realizing that it would be easier to just admit defeat, he relented with a heavy sigh, grudgingly forking his precious gold over to the gleeful tramp. Again.
Murrey quickly snatched up the coins, stuffing them into the bare container that was always kept with him. "Oh, thank you, moi. This will help lots!"
"Fourth time this week…about time he got some clothes…" Jack muttered sourly, giving up his hard earned cash.
After spending all of his savings on that new milking room, the once-sufficient rancher now had little money to spare for himself and his family. But every time he saw that little fellow, tired and cold, out in the frigid winter air without a shred of suitable clothing, he couldn't help but spare a few dollars for him.
Still, Jack wondered why, after so many years of gracious charity and, on some unpleasant occasions, theft, Murrey never obtained enough gold to be able to return to his beloved home…
And sometimes, Jack pondered what could be so enticing about this 'Po-po Valley'- which he had never even heard of—that Murrey would want to leave this place. Or, really, what had possessed him to leave Po-po Valley in the first place…
But, just as he was never to ask Daryl what exactly he was doing with the cows when he took a stroll around the pastures, or how no one dared to talk about that eerie little shed in the back of the ranch, Jack knew that some things in Forget-Me-Not Valley were better left unknown.
The sun was nearly hidden beneath the horizon as Murrey laid out his haul for the day, which consisted of six polished gold coins (those were always Murrey's favorite. So shiny!), a stray button that he had collected by the Goddess Pond, and a few dust mites that his trusted companions, Hanako and Tanako, had procured.
"Only fifty today, moi." Not enough. Murrey's eyebrows creased. He looked around hurriedly, hoping that maybe someone else would be able to share in his distress.
But the street was deserted…
"She will not be pleased," whispered Hanako.
"Not pleased! Not pleased!" chanted its twin.
Murrey gulped, choosing to ignore the squeaky commentary and opting instead to continue counting up his trove of junk.
A string from Gustufa's old guitar…one of Cody's lost earrings… the turtle's red handkerchief… Perhaps if he could manage to sell these when Van came into town…
Did he have enough time?
"Today, today."
"It's due today!"
No…it couldn't possibly be. Already?
"More time, moi. There must be more time."
"No time," his winged companion insisted.
"Tonight! Tonight!"
This wasn't good…not at all… She would be so angry…so very angry. Murrey didn't like it when she was angry…
The vagabond scuffled across the dusty old path, his anxiety steadily building. He had almost managed to obtain the required quota for the month…almost…
There had to be something, anything, he could do. But it was already close to midnight… he had no time left…
Murrey gazed up at the surrounding mountains, the only barrier between the village and the farmer's large plot, desperately hoping to find a stray gleam of lost gald within the folds of the steep hills. When he found none, the distressed vagabond turned his attention to the tall rooftop jutting out of the mountain barricade. There, peeking over the foliage, was the tip of an old building, it's shingles hanging freely from the top in neglect.
Jack's building… A storage room, wasn't it? He would keep a lot of items there…and money from the shipments…
But did he feel a bit guilty for stealing the farmer's gold…? Last he had heard, the man was rich now, after all. He could spare more than a few dollars a week, right?
"You've done it before…"
"Yes! Yes, you have!" Squeaked Tanako.
Murrey knew that they were right… this wasn't any different than the last time he had stolen.
No. No, that wasn't true. Those other times, he had stolen out of necessity, and only took a piece of food. Now…now he was stealing for…for himself…
"Not your fault. He didn't give enough, that's all," coaxed one fly, it's voice getting impatient.
"Cheapskate! Cheap farmer!"
The pintsized beggar nodded, now firm in his resolve. That farmer didn't need the money as much as he did… He wasn't the one scraping for food all day. He didn't have a family back home, with a son that missed his father.
He would never understand how much he missed his home… What ends he would go to…
Because, in the end, there was only one thing that kept Murrey going. And he wouldn't rest until his one desire had been fulfilled. His ambition was to go home, so that's what he would do.
Jack was going to help accomplish this goal… whether he knew it or not…
The woman stared expressionlessly at the hefty pile of various coins and knickknacks strewn haphazardly across the desk, her eyes never once turning their attention to the petrified pipsqueak in the corner. Murrey toyed anxiously with his tunic as he watched the intimidating figure count the coins with painfully slow accuracy. Bringing each piece into her palm for a thorough inspection, taking a long, meticulous glance before finally nodding her head and dropping the money into the bag.
One. By. One.
He listened to the steady tick of the antique grandfather clock, eyes sweeping the elaborately furnished abode with a sense of impending dread.
"My, my. It seems we're running a bit…short today."
Murrey flinched, completely ignoring the falsely sweet tone that she always adopted when displeased. He had learned not to trust the syrupy pleasant voice… In reality, those were the times that he should be most frightened.
"Ch-Cheapskates, moi. No one donates, miss." he stuttered, his eyes adopting a sad, pitiful quality as he fidgeted.
Arms slammed down on the table with overwhelming force, rattling the fragile pieces of china placed carefully around the room. She was not to be underestimated when angry. "That is no excuse, you mutt!" she hissed, raising a hand to punish the imp.
Murrey cowered away from the slap, wincing. But when no discipline had been served, he risked a hopeful glance at the fuming senior.
The woman simply chuckled at the wretched sight of her servant, lowering her hand, which only served to confuse the beggar at her feet even more. He started to laugh as well, nervously giggling in an attempt to please the girl.
She stopped, glaring down at him. Murrey stopped as well.
"Now listen here, Murrey…Are you listening?" The tramp's head bobbled up and down, and she continued, "We both want something… We want something that the other can obtain, yes?"
"Y-yes, miss."
"Very good. You see, I just want a way to add more wealth to my dwindling fortune without getting my hands dirty… and you… You want this, correct?"
She reached into a small pocket within the folds of her smock, pulling out a wrinkled train ticket.
Murrey's eyes gleamed, his mouth forming a perfect circle as he gazed upon the plain paper. This was his ticket… his ticket home… Without thinking, his arms leaped for the document, his eyes trained solely on the object of his labor.
A hand tugged the ticket just out of reach, shoving Murrey backwards. "I thought we had made this perfectly clear, but I'll say it again," she growled, her voice evidently irritated, "This is not your ticket… Not yet."
"How much longer, moi? How much more money?"
Romana glared down at her worker, as one would a disobedient dog, "The amount does not matter, Murrey. The only thing that matters is that I get my money on time. That is all you have to concern yourself with, you see… Have I made myself clear?"
The frightened vagrant deflated entirely, all hope of obtaining his precious prize vanished. With his head held low, he nodded both to her and to himself.
He would continue to do whatever it took to get Romana's money. On time… Yes, he had stolen before, and he'd do it again.
The older woman waved the hobo out of the room without another word, and he obliged willingly. When the door had finally creaked to a shut, the madam gave a giggle of delight. Everything was working out perfectly.
Risking a moment of indulgence, she gave another appraising glance at the stash of gold, stored safely inside her steel case.
A swift knock jarred her out of her good humor. Romana took a deep breath, clearing her throat to get into character as she shut the safe. "Yes, dear? Who might that be?"
The door squeaked as it turned on its hinge, a tiny bobbed girl poking her head into the room. "Grandmother?"
"Ah, Lumina! Come in, my dear!" Romana coaxed with one hand, the other clutching her cane.
Lumina blushed, twirling a strand of hair with one finger as she stepped further inside. "I'm sorry for barging in so late, grandmother. But I was looking at some city magazines just now, and… Do you think we would be able to get one of those new, high-definition televisions? Everyone who's everyone has them!"
"Hmm…" the senior citizen put a finger to her lip, her eyes rolled upward. "Everyone who's everyone, you say? Well, I suppose it wouldn't be a bad idea…"
The girl's eyes lit up, and she ran over to hug her dear relative with gratification "Oh, thank you, grandma Romana! Thank you, thank you!"
Her parent chuckled, reaching down to return the hug. A knowing gleam shone in the elder woman's eye. "It's my pleasure, dearest…"
The cobbled well stood firm by the side of the road, but it was not to be used, today. Instead, two young mothers stood idly by the fountain's mouth, casually swapping stories about the town's goings-on, which came to be their primary source of entertainment. There was not a soul to be found on the worn old trail, but that wasn't particularly strange at this time of day.
"Did you happen to hear," said Samantha to an eagerly enthusiastic Chris, "about Romana's savings? Apparently, they've been doing rather well as of lately. They're even planning on adding a new wing onto the mansion!"
"Well, that's good to hear. At least someone's finding success in these hard times…"
Samantha pursed her lips, an understanding look in her eye as she watched her dear friend. She had heard about Chris' financial problems, about Hugh's newfound obsession with athletics. These times were difficult for everyone in the valley, but she supposed it hit some harder than others…
"Oh, but Chris! Not everyone is doing so well, you know… Did you hear about poor Jack's health…? He's getting into his later years."
"Oh, my," replied the ginger maiden, perking up, "It just makes me feel so old! But, you know, Hugh tells me that Nami is thinking of filing for a divorce. Says that they don't have enough to eat after his last cow hit the bucket."
"Reeaally, now?"
"Honest to goddess! In any case, I believe he's about ready to sell the farm."
Samantha shook her head, turning to gaze up at the tall tower peeking over the foliage. It's shingles were a bit loose… perhaps she would inform Jack about it later. "How awful… Simply atrocious."
Chris leaned in, needing no further prodding. "Absolutely! But that's not even the worst part… You see, his father… their situations are almost identical." She, too, began to gaze in the direction of his farm, the one that had been there ever since her and Wally had moved in… The fortuneteller hadn't been living in this valley long since the man's death, but she had heard a great deal about the older farmer's success, and eventually, his decline.
"Even on his deathbed, he would continue to ramble about 'theft' this, and 'robbery' that. Of course, we all knew that his money had somehow been pilfered away, but…" She shrugged her shoulders, snapping out of her daze to look back at her captivated audience, "He was a drinker, as well. What else could it have been?"
Samantha soaked in this information, having heard it all for the first time. "So you think that Jack had… drank all of his money away?"
The other mother could only shake her head, reaching up to adjust the glasses that sat atop her nose before answering. "I don't know. All I know is, I see him going into that bar almost every week, and now he's dirt poor… Is there any other explanation?"
Samantha sighed, "I suppose not…"
Murrey sat hunched over his tiny can of money, his eyes bloodshot and twitching slightly as he listened distantly to the hum of conversation. His back to the rear of the Blue Bar, he continued to count his stash of trinkets. One. By. One.
"Not enough… You must get more if you are ever to return home!"
"Family! Son! They neeeed you!"
Murrey couldn't help but chuckle at those stupid little flies… What were they babbling on about this time?
Home? This was his home! He had a nice, cozy bed in the forest, and that was enough for him.
Son…? What son? Miss Romana was the closest thing he had.
Yes, that was right… Romana needed money. Jack had the money. It was a simple thing, one that he could understand fairly easily.
His ambition was to serve his Miss, so that's what he would do.
Jack was going to help accomplish this goal… whether he knew it or not…
Well, there you go! I've always wondered why Murrey hung around the mansion so often... o.O
Hope you liked it! Oh, and don't forget to review! :D