Disclaimer: I do not claim to own Harvest Moon, its characters or any of the events I've borrowed from the game.

This is an unaltered short story I wrote for an English class a year or so ago in which I attempted to mimic the style of J.D. Salinger in his book Catcher in the Rye. Enjoy!

Flower Beds

My first day at Flower Bud Village? Well, if you really want an honest answer, it was one of the worst days in my life. For one thing, the weather was all wrong. It was a beautiful spring day, like the kind you'd see in the movies or on a post card. It was nice and warm, the cherry blossoms were in full bloom, and all that jazz. It was perfect. But it didn't fit at all. Really, it should've been cloudy and raining and freezing. That's how I felt at least. You see, ol' Gramps just died.

I didn't know until afterwards, but it is a custom of the villagers to meet at the village square and celebrate after someone dies. It's a funny thing to do, but that's what they did for Gramps. Still, I don't understand why they celebrated so soon. I mean he just died—just that morning. I was there until the end. I guess I just don't think that throwing a party is a good way to show someone who died how much you appreciate them. Well, now that I remember, some villagers at the square were crying. The three young carpenter apprentices were sitting together, talking about Gramps, and crying a lot. A little boy not too far from where I stood was also trying to act tough and not cry, but I could see the tears in the corners of his eyes. In fact, most of the young guys where crying and carrying on. It was the old bogeys that where celebrating. The bald, old carpenter master was walking the square around calling for cheers and dancing and merrymaking. He even made his apprentices give a cheer and sing an old drinking song about an old, crusty sailor who challenged the goddess of the sea. The midwife, who was old enough to be great-grandmother, backed up the old carpenter's song with her flute. She kept on shooting dirty looks at the old potion maker who was sitting down and clapping his hands to the music and the song. The potion maker wouldn't get up and dance for nothing so she just gave up on him. I could tell the young guys were embarrassed because they were getting shown up by a couple of old fossils. I kinda liked those old guys, though. I mean, they're next on Death's chopping block, and they're living up their lives as if they were twenty.

Nobody talked to me, though. They all knew how close I was to Gramps, but they didn't know me very well. I didn't mind, though. I didn't feel like talking anyway.

I didn't stay in the square very long. I guess all the music and mourning and my own mixed feelings were making my stomach a little sour. The village is about as odd as its villagers. Usually, a city square or a village square or any kind of square for that matter would be located in the center of town. Here, it is located on a raised platform right on the edge of town. Anyway, I walked down the cobblestone steps into town to see how the village has changed since I was here last.

I forgot to mention that. You see, that wasn't my first time in Flower Bud Village. When I was about seven or eight, my mom got a letter in the mail from the mayor of the village. The letter said that my grandma had just died and that Gramps was having a hard time getting along with out her. The mayor thought that family visit might be just the thing to cheer him up. Mom liked the idea, but my dad shot it down immediately. Dad's a businessman, you see. He owns a small chain of candy factories in Tokyo and the States called "Sunshine Candies." He lives by the saying "time is money." That meant everything about his life was about business, and a family vacation to Hokkaido was bad business. I remember Mom and Dad arguing all night 'bout it. I remember 'cause I was under the bed crying. I hate it when they fight like that. Eventually, though, mom persuaded him to bring me to the village for a summer.

Still, Dad wasn't thrilled at all 'bout the idea. When he dropped me off at the farm, he left without even acknowledging Gramps. But, that summer was one of the best times I ever had. Gramps was so nice and sincere, and he could tell a mean joke when he got in the mood. You can see why I like him so much. Anyway, we worked the soil and cared for the crops and when to all of the festivals. Sometimes, when all the work was done and there was no festival to go to, we would hike and camp out at Mt. Moon and watch the stars—just the two of us. I wished that I could stay with him forever and ever, and never have to go home. But I still had to go home at the end of the summer. After that, Dad made sure I was kept busy during the summer and school breaks. I never had the chance to come back until Gramps died.

The village had changed little since I left. There were a few major changes, like the remodeling of the church which doubled as a schoolhouse, and a library had been built. I could understand why they would remodel the church, but I couldn't figure out why they would add a library for the life of me. Who was gonna use it in such a small town as this? Sure, the children might books for projects and the like, but who else was going to use it? Not only that, but the building looked out of place. That's why it caught my eye like it did. You see, every other building was built out of wood in the western style, but the library was built out of rock. It stood out like a sore thumb.

I turned and headed down a dirt road that lead out of the village. Seeing the library had me thinking about how I got back to the village. Back in the city, I was a senior in a top-notch, private high school. Sounds prestigious, doesn't it? Well, to be honest, with my grades I was barely holding my head above water. It's not like I'm stupid or anything—I just don't care. I don't need a college education in business to be happy in life. Boy was Dad furious when I told him that! At any rate, I'm getting ahead of myself. Three days ago the mayor—yes, the same mayor—sent Mom another letter. This time it was 'bout Gramps' bad health. We'd known that he'd been sick for some time, but it was news to find out that he's bedridden. The moment I heard that, nothing, not even Kamisama himself, could've stopped me from coming back to Flower Bud Village. Dad didn't like the news any more than we did. I was surprised to hear him say that he was going back to the village. I figured he would've stayed 'cause of his precious business. I begged Dad to take me with him, but he told me to stay home 'cause my studies were too important. When I told him what I really thought about my studies, the shit really hit the fan. I was forced to endure another lecture about dishonoring and disgracing the family name. I argued back that I was of age to make my own decisions about my life. I was eighteen after all. You wouldn't believe how happy I was when Mom took my side. Boy, sometimes women can be extremely scary. I kinda felt sorry for Dad when she was done yelling at him. But, I didn't feel too sorry. After all, Mom did convince Dad to let me come with him.

I guess I should've been paying more attention to where I was going 'cause I had gone out of my way to the Very Berry Vineyard. By some twisted stroke of luck, I had got there just when the vineyard owner and his daughter were yelling at each other.

"Dad, why can't you just let me have my way!" she yelled.

Her father, a tall grizzly bear of a man, roared back, "Karen, your mother and I need you here! Do you really think that we can handle the harvest all by ourselves?"

"You have Kai to help you! You don't need me."

I guess I should've been paying more attention to what was happening around me. Instead, I was only paying attention to Karen's good looks. I mean she is good looking, even if she does have a flat chest. She has long, brown hair with naturally blond bangs, her face is perfectly oval, and her green eyes sparkle in a way that I have never seen before. Yep, I was paying so much attention to her good looks that I didn't know someone was behind me until they grabbed my shoulder. I jumped six feet into the air. As it turns out it was Kai, the vineyard's hand. He's a skinny, black guy, and he was one of the first friends I made in village. Of course, I didn't know who he was then.

"Sorry 'bout scaring you, but it ain't a good idea ta be 'round when those two get inna row," he said.

"That's obvious," I said. "What're they arguing 'bout anyway?"

Kai took off his purple bandana and wiped off his sweaty forehead with it. He must've been working when he heard the arguing. "You see, Miss Karen has always wanted ta live in the big city, but her dad wants her ta stay here and help with the harvest."

"Why doesn't she just leave and just come back every fall and help with the harvest?"

"It's a bit more complicated than that." Then Kai stopped talking and looked behind my shoulder. "Here she comes and she's innanother of her moods!" he whispered.

I turned around and I came face to face with the angry, flat-chested, tomboy. Well, we were face to face for about half a second, until she knocked me on the ground and stormed off. I was pathetic. All I could think about when I was laying on the dusty road was how cute she looked before she pushed me.

Kai helped me up, and apologized frantically for Karen's behavior. I didn't really mind though. I almost enjoyed it. Almost.

For the first time that day, I was in a decent mood. Kai and I said our goodbyes and I headed towards the farm, whistling the whole way. I can't believe I was whistling, but when you're happy, inevitably you whistle or sing or hum or do something like that.

When I saw the farm, though, my happy mood crashed. The farm was not in very good condition at all. It almost seemed abandoned. Normally, I would hear the sounds of the chickens and the cows from a mile away, but I found out when I returned to the village that Gramps had to sell the chickens and cows to pay for the expensive medicines he was on. The barn and the chicken coop have been empty for quite some time, and the buildings showed that. Both needed their roofs repaired, and the buildings desperately needed a new coat of paint. Gramps did manage to keep up house, though. It looks almost exactly the same as it did ten years ago. It was a simple one room house that had only the necessities in it like a bed, a desk, a toolbox, a table, a stove, and a TV. I imagine it had to have been cramped with Gramps, Grandma, and Dad all living there. There used to be so much life and laughter. How could all of that disappear so quickly?

Even the field seemed lifeless. When Gramps was well he used to dedicate a portion of the field to growing all sorts of flowers. He even got good enough that he could create designs in the field with the different types of flowers that he used. After a while he got so good that he used to win the summer gardening competition every year. Even the village florist couldn't compete with him, and he did it without ever transplanting a single flower. He once told me, "The Goddess of Spring is the creator of all beauty. All I do is sow the seeds and care for the flowers and the flowers grow into the perfect arrangement. I never worry about the flowers being perfect nor do I try to change them. If I do then I'll destroy the beauty that the goddess created." Every spring he would go to the florist and buy four or five different bags of flower seeds. Then, he would pour all the bags into a larger bag and shake it to mix up the seeds. After that was done he would spread the seeds around the field. Since he didn't fret about the end result, he was able to put all of his soul into caring for the flowers. He cared for them as if they were his own children. The field I saw then was nothing like the field I remember. The flower bed was overrun with weeds, and the rest of the field was hard and unplowed and littered with weeds and garbage. It was a very depressing sight.

I was so depressed that I began to wonder if I wasn't to blame for the way things turned out. I mean, after my summer with Gramps, I left him here all alone. When Dad came to pick me up I should've argued with him or done something so that he would let me stay with Gramps. Instead, I just let him take me back home without a fight. I left an old man all alone with only his flowers to care for and love. At the end he couldn't even do that.

This time I heard the footsteps coming towards me from behind. I turned around and saw Dad walking towards the farm. He was wearing his favorite business suit. It was all brown with a white shirt and a black tie. As usual, his image was perfect. His jet black hair was slicked back and not a single strand of hair was out place. His suit was crisp and perfectly unwrinkled despite the fact that it had been hurriedly smashed into his tiny suitcase. Everything about him always had to be perfect.

We just stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity until finally Dad spoke. "Do you still want to take over the farm?"

"Yeah." That's all I was gonna say. He had always wanted me to take over "Sunshine Candies," but the night the last letter came I told him that I wanted nothing to do with his business or his way of life. It was all about perfection, profits, and business politics—the three things I hate the most. I had made up my mind to carve out my life here, in this village, on this land with my own two hands, and nothing, not even my old man was going to stop my dream.

For you see, Gramps had left everything to me.

"I see," Dad said. Then he turned and looked at the house he grew up in. He pressed his lips together and furrowed his forehead. I knew exactly what he was thinking about, too. Gramps wanted my old man to stay and take over the farm, but Dad thought otherwise. He said his fortune was in the big city, and he didn't want no part in Gramp's life. Now, I was doing the exact same thing to Dad.

And I didn't feel the least bit remorseful.

Dad sighed. My head whipped around at ninety miles an hour. He had never—ever—sighed before, or, at least, never in front of me. But that's all he had to do. I knew just how disappointed he was in me; he made me feel like shit.

But I was not going to give up my dream.

Finally, Dad spoke again. "Alright. I see I cannot change your mind." He closed his eyes. "I'll go talk to the mayor and the townsfolk about your plans."

I didn't know what to do. I know I should say something, but I couldn't get my voice to work. Dad turned to leave, but before he did he said one last thing.

"Good Luck."

I still couldn't say anything so I just let him go. He had finally acknowledged my dream, a dream that then seemed so foolish and stupid. But after Dad left, I was even more determined to prove that I could make a successful life for myself on this farm.

I didn't know it then, but I was in for years of hard work on the farm and in getting to know the people of the village. But, that is a tale for another day. For now let me just tell you that I did succeed—by my definition of success.