First Impressions Mean Everything
Or so Maria thinks, until she meets and comes to know Charlie Aldebaran, who's just taken over his father's farm. Now she knows they do.
The first feeling I had for Charlie Aldebaran was…
I know what you expect me to say. I know what you want me to say, because you're reading a book stuck deep within the romance section of the Flowerbud library. You want me to say that it was love at first sight, I couldn't resist how attracted I immediately was to him, that I couldn't help but speak to the man, despite my shy nature. Or maybe, you want me to say that it was like any other ordinary day, but that I happened to notice, perhaps, the way his hair fell in his eyes, or the unnatural glow his eyes had in the morning sun.
Following true to what would be realistic, you might expect me to say I was indifferent towards him; he was another stranger who'd come to live in Flowerbud village. Maybe I'd had expectations of meeting him, myself – maybe I'd wanted him to live up to his father's name, just like the rest of the village.
But whatever you assumed, I can surely tell you, I was quite surprised of the first feeling I had of the white-haired farmer. Or, maybe I wasn't, since he gave me plenty of reason to feel the way I felt.
I hated his stinking guts.
I suppose I could've said, "I felt for Charlie a way I'd never felt for a man before," and you could have assumed from there, since that's somewhat of an honest statement – I'd never truly thought I'd actually hate someone. But this guy was a jerk, let me tell you, from the very beginning.
I first caught a glimpse of his unnaturally colored hair seated behind my desk in the library. My nose had been buried in a book, and usually, it takes a lot to draw my attention away from it, but his blinding white hair reflecting in the morning sun drew my attention immediately. He turned and looked into the window for a moment, and I immediately felt awkward; was he looking at me? I recalled how nearly impossible it was to look into the library windows during the daytime; they reflected everything outside as if it were a mirror. For a whole of two seconds, I felt very grateful for this, until he strolled right over to the window, pressed his nose against the screen, squinted his eyes, and looked right at me.
He waved, unsmiling, his brow furrowed as if he was looking into the bright afternoon sun, and I had never before felt more awkward in my entire life. I smiled shyly back and quickly closed the curtains; what a strange guy.
And, to my horror, this strange guy entered my library within twenty seconds.
"Oh," he said slowly and neutrally, looking all around. "A library."
Perhaps you expect me to explain how interested he was in books, or perhaps how adorable he was in not knowing a thing about them. Sure, that's how most of your romance stories would go; if my romance story had abided by the normal rules of, say, the book you might find resting next to this one, or perhaps the one whose author's name actually begins with a "U" placed directly in the center of the "A" section, I might describe just how adorable he was at this moment in time. However, I'm telling a truthful story, and to tell the truth would be going against every rule in all of these other books. Well, to an extent, anyway.
He folded his arms across his chest and turned straight to me, his purple eyes fixing on me. "I hate reading," he said, which, to me, was like fingernails down a chalkboard. I fought the disgusted look my brain begged my face to make, and instead, gave him a polite smile.
"I'm sorry," I replied, looking up at him and raising my eyebrows in a friendly, yet confused fashion, "I missed that?"
For some reason, at the time, it was better to pretend I hadn't heard him at all instead of biting back at him. I figured, maybe, if he had a brain, or any manners at all, he'd reply "nothing" in a way that would make me curl back into my seat sulkily. I was very wrong.
"Are you deaf?" He questioned, his eyes boring straight into my own. "I said, 'I hate reading.'"
At that moment, I decided I hated Charlie Aldebaran, new owner of Aldebaran Farm. I decided I didn't care if he dropped dead, right there in my library (as long as he didn't get any blood on the books), or if I never saw him again. As a matter of fact, I found myself willing him away the best I could, but the man simply wouldn't leave.
The strange man dragged a stool across my precious, polished hardwood floor. The screeching sound reached my ears and I cringed, wondering what sort of damage was being done to my floor.
"But the mayor said," he continued, continuing to look straight at me, as though he knew I hated being stared at, "I needed to come here for information on farming, if I needed any."
I paused for a moment, a blush rising to my cheeks despite my efforts to fight it down, and glanced around. "W…well," I said, nodding towards the far corner of the library, "there are books over there on farming, written by farmers through the ages who've actually worked this territory. I'm sure they'd be a great read-"
"I've just said I hate reading," the farmer interrupted, staring at me as if I were a complete idiot.
I blinked continuously, biting back smart replies, and shrugged my shoulders. "I…I'm sorry…" I said, at a loss for polite words. "I don't know… how to help you…"
"You could tell me what they say," he replied quickly and impatiently. "You look like you've read everything in this darn library."
What was he trying to imply? I took a deep breath as I tapped my feet against the side of the desk, biting my lip. "I... read those books a long time ago," I said, avoiding his eyes. "I'm not the best source to ask."
"Well, dammit," he said, and if I'd just been a little more outgoing, I would've told him to watch his language in my library, though about half of my books contained that type of language. "What am I supposed to do, then?"
"R…read?" I offered, which only seemed to make him stare harder at me, but his expression didn't change at all.
"Read, huh?"
"Y..yes…" Had I been smart? That hadn't really been my intention, and in any other situation, I would've wanted to take it back, but I felt quite proud of myself. My cheeks flushed bright red as he stared at me.
"Huh," he only said, tapping his fingers against my desk and leaning across it to look at me. "Alright, well, which one should I read?"
I stood up from my desk, smoothing my dress down as I did so, and began to walk towards the farming section, the white-haired stranger close behind me. I couldn't help but notice how tall he was at that moment (and no, for your information, I was not strangely attracted to abnormally tall men, I just found it worth noting); he was at least six and a half feet tall, towering over my small figure of five feet, on a good day. I paused for a moment, blushing up at him embarrassedly, and he shrugged.
"Well?" He questioned impatiently, "What book?"
I shook my head, as if prying my eyes away from him, and stared into the farming section for a while. "W… what type of information are you looking for…?"
"Farming," he said shortly, crossing his arms over his chest and staring at me, for the fifth, sixth, maybe seventh time that day, as if I were a complete idiot.
"No, no," I said quickly, though quietly, shaking my head. "I mean, crops? Even that has a few categories, like planting, daily care, and harvesting… or are you looking for livestock information?" I asked shyly, refusing to look at him. "There's even a few here and there on what crops are best during what seasons, and even a few with recipes-"
"Are there any with just a general idea of what farming is?" He asked, and as I looked up at him, I noticed a slight tinge of red on his cheeks, though I ignored it. Surely he wasn't blushing because… did he not know a thing about farming? I doubted that. No idiot, in their right mind, would take responsibility and ownership of a farm without knowing what they were doing.
"Of what farming is? Well, isn't it just p..planting and growing crops, and h..harvesting them? And maybe a few animals…?"
"Well yeah, I knew that… but are there any that contain most of the information you just said? Like a big farming encyclopedia, or something?" He leaned against my bookshelf, and it gave an ominous wobble, though he pretended he didn't notice at all.
"Uh, I… well, I'm sure there is…" I turned away from him, and searched a while, before laying eyes on just the book he needed. "Here," I said, taking the book out with difficulty; it was heavy, thick, and dusty. I held it up to him.
"That's a big book," he said, blinking down at it. "Have you got any smaller?" He asked. I was half tempted to ask him if he wanted the kind with full-colored pictures and a crossword section in the back, but instead, I just shook my head timidly. He sighed in an unsatisfied manner and lifted the heavy book from my cramping hands, and tossed it from one hand to the other as if it weren't a load at all.
"Alright, thanks," he said, and immediately turned to leave the library, but I held my hand out and managed to squeak "Wait!" before he slammed the door shut.
"What?" He inquired, cocking his head at me as if there could possibly something else he needed to do. "What now?"
"I'm sorry, b..but you have to check out books here, sir," I said, adjusting the sheets of paper scattered across my desk for the hundredth time that day. He paused for a moment at the door, almost as if he were going to run for it. Finally, he strolled over to my desk and let the book fall on it with a loud clunk, causing me to give another cringe.
"Farming Mechanics," I recited mechanically as I wrote it down onto my check-out sheet, along with its number, the date, and – what was this man's name?
"E…excuse me," I said after a moment. He sighed and looked back down at me, his arms crossed. "What's your name? I have to write it down here…"
"Charlie Aldebaran," he said impatiently. "Can I go now?"
"Yes," I replied, writing his name down and stamping the back of the book. "G… good luck. The book is due back in two days."
"Right, whatever," he responded, and with that, he was gone.
Two days passed, and at first, I was glad not to see his face back at my library, though his book was due back. Besides, who else in the village would need that book besides him; the only other 'farmers' were the owners of Green Ranch, who'd been raising livestock for years, and Lilia, who already knew what she was doing, as she'd been planting and harvesting seeds for just as long. It slightly irked me that my book wasn't back, of course, as it bothered me every time, since I couldn't stand for my books to be out for lengths at a time. However, I had no interest in seeing that man again, so what worry was it of mine?
On the fourth day of it not being returned, however, Harris, of all people, walked in and asked me if I had 'some type of farming encyclopedia.' I blinked at the village mailman unbelievingly and somewhat begrudgingly.
"Why?" I simply asked as he fidgeted uncomfortably in front of my desk.
"Well," he said, placing a nervous finger on my lampshade and bouncing it, "I just… was interested, is all. In, you know, how farms work… I like to know how things work."
I did too, of course; I'd checked over the encyclopedia a few times myself, just to satisfy my own curiosity, but I never took Harris to be the intellectual type. Instead of asking further questions, I shyly replied that the book was not in at the moment, that Charlie, the farmer down the street, had already checked it out.
"Oh, I see," he said almost disappointedly and turned to leave. I silently pondered why he didn't pick another book instead. "Thanks anyway," he said before my door clinked shut. I gave a shrug and returned to my book without another thought.
I didn't think about that unusual encounter again until Harris entered, two days later, asking for the same book, and I embarrassedly had to tell him that I still did not have the book, that Charlie, the new farmer down the street, still had it checked out.
"But aren't you only allowed to have books checked out for two days?" He asked me cautiously, and I nodded, my cheeks flushing bright red. "Oh," he said, tapping his feet. "Maybe he doesn't know that rule, or something."
"…Maybe so," I responded, though I highly doubted it.
And so it became somewhat of a routine; Harris would come in at around two o'clock each day and ask me if the book had still not come back, and I was starting to grow tired of the disruption in my library, so I took it upon myself to go and retrieve the book.
To say the least, this wouldn't prove as one of my favorite tasks. I hated confrontation, so this little episode would certainly not go down in the book as my shining achievement in Flowerbud village. At four that evening, I closed up the library early and locked the door behind me, and instead of heading over next door to have supper with my parents, I continued down the path, towards his farm.
It was five o'clock before I finally reached the farm, as I'd lost myself here and there (I don't get out much, alright?), but upon entering, I immediately regretted my decision. I should have simply told Harris to find another book to read to pass his time, another obsession to fulfill. Instead, however, I decided to care about my job. Huh.
Almost as soon as I'd stepped into his farm, his little puppy came scurrying over to me, his tongue flopping about outside his mouth, his tail wagging furiously. It was like a scary story, for me, as I anticipated his jump, the mud on his paws reaching my dress, and his sharp little puppy teeth sinking into my hand. I let out a girly shriek and fell backwards, right onto my rear, and tried to fight the animal off.
"Please, puppy, get off me!" I protested as he proceeded to lick me on my face continuously, and suddenly, my savior appeared.
Did you expect me to say Charlie? I don't think I'd ever call Charlie my 'savior', to say the least. Well, at least I wouldn't have, at this point. No, Zack, the guy who picked up all of the shipping at the end of the day, and delivered to my newest books to me in the morning, pried the shivering mass of cute from me and gave me a hand to my feet.
"Whatever are you doing here?" He asked, somewhat confused. "Are you here to see Charlie?" I fought back a laugh; apparently he wasn't just my least favorite person in Flowerbud Village.
"Y..yes, actually," I replied, attempting to wipe mud from my dress. "Th.. Thank you very much for helping me up."
"Well it's not like Charlie would've helped you," Zack muttered under his breath, before turning towards the fields and shouting out. "Hey, Charlie!"
I looked behind Zack and into the direction he was shouting, and there, in the middle of a mass of weeds, stood the book-thief, Charlie Aldebaran. "What?" Charlie yelled back, holding his hands up to shield his eyes from the sun. "What is it? Didn't I put everything in the bin?"
"Yeah," Zack replied, lowering his voice slightly, "but you've got another visitor!"
"Oh," Charlie said, noticing me for the first time. "Right." He began to make his way towards me from the garden.
"Th… thanks again," I said to Zack, but he was already turning to leave me with this stupid man. He simply shrugged and nodded and was gone, and now Charlie was approaching me.
Charlie gave me a confused look, and I half-expected him to ask me what I was doing here, but instead, he threw my book onto the ground. "This has been no help at all," he said as if he'd just tried a gross type of food. "No help. My crops still won't grow, and I don't know what I'm doing wrong."
I blinked, picked up the book, and examined it thoroughly. Not only was the cover completely drenched in mud, but a few of the pages inside were torn. I fought back tears as I cradled it close to my chest, biting my lip as I stared up at Charlie.
"H..have you read it thoroughly?" I asked him, my voice quavering. "Have you read all of it…?"
"Well no, I just skimmed the beginnings of the chapters. It was way too boring for me to read all the way." He glanced down at me and cocked his head, as if he could sense my feelings.
"You should probably read all of the chapters thoroughly," I noted, but when he tried to reach for the book, I held it tight against my chest. "It's been due back for a while," I added as he stared at me questioningly.
"Well, at least tell me what I've been doing wrong, or something, my gosh." Charlie muttered, rubbing his forehead in frustration. "I've been trying all week to get these damn things to grow, and it's not working."
"Th..then let me see the fields," I said, and slowly began to walk towards them, still cradling the damaged book to my chest. He trailed not far behind me, his hands shoved deeply into his pockets.
Right away I saw the problem.
"Charlie," I said slowly and cautiously, almost unbelievingly. He was by my side, leaning down towards his fields and listening apprehensively. "It doesn't help," I continued, "to till the ground in the first place, if you're not going to cover the seeds up with more soil." His seeds were simply sitting atop the tilled ground, the sprouts poking out slightly. I almost asked him if he'd been watering them regularly, until I glanced over at another patch, in which the seeds weren't sitting on the ground at all; they were floating in a small puddle.
"I'm supposed to cover them up with more soil?!" Charlie seemed frustrated at this. "Farming is stupid. Why do I have to do all that?" He threw his arms up over his head and I leaned back up, fighting an amused smile.
"You just do," I replied, and with that, I took the hoe, sitting next to his field, and scooped up loose dirt. I spread it carefully over the top of one patch of his seeds and set the hoe aside, leaning back down to pat it down gently. "Like this," I said, resting on my knees to inspect my handiwork. He leaned down next to me now and took another patch of seeds, doing the same thing I'd done, just much sloppier. Once he was done, he looked at me expectantly without saying anything, as if waiting on approval.
"It's… it's good," I said cautiously, as his handiwork was definitely much sloppier than mine (he'd accidentally mixed in a few weeds here and there), but I figured some of that didn't matter with farming. "Just like that." He continued to do this, until he reached the seeds floating in water, and sat for a moment.
"I think you should find a new patch for that," I said slowly, and took the seeds from the puddle, as he lifted his hoe and tilled another patch of field for these seeds. We silently placed them into the soil and covered them up, patting them down loosely.
"Alright," he said, placing his hands on his hips confidently, as if he'd come up with the solution all on his own. "Now I'm going to have myself a farm—"
"We're not done yet," I interrupted quietly as I stepped forward to rip a few weeds out of the ground. "These shouldn't be here at all." He paused for a moment, before inching up to help me, too, stepping all over his newly planted seeds.
"Why shouldn't they?" He asked, and I detected a hint of normality in his voice. Amazing.
"Because they'll interfere with the other crops growing and kill them," I responded simply, and he nodded. "Oh," he replied, and I was flooded with the satisfaction I usually felt while informing someone of something. However, as if he could detect my happiness, even for a fleeting moment, he interrupted it completely by saying,
"You're a real nerd, aren'tcha?"
"Mmhmm," I simply muttered as I pulled up the last weed and tossed it in the neat pile I'd made to the side. Once again, he crossed his arms over his chest and inspected our handiwork, a slow smile coming to his face.
"Thanks," He suddenly said, and I found myself slightly surprised. He was thanking me? Really? Such a rude man was capable of being thankful? I smiled, until he continued, "But this is why I asked you, in the first place, but you just made me read some stupid book."
I inspected his face and was somewhat surprised to find that he was still smiling, and I smiled back, though timidly. He wasn't so bad, but he still got on my nerves quite a bit.
"I…it's fine," I replied, wiping my hands on my already dirty dress and noting to wash it as soon as I got home. I turned back down the path towards the village, but he called out before I was able to leave.
"Wait," he said, scratching his head. "What's your name?"
"Maria," I replied, a blush meeting my cheeks like normal, when I first introduced myself. "Maria Arcturus."
"Strange name," he said, but shrugged and continued his work. "Thanks," he said again, and I left, my muddied book in tow, without another thought, feeling disturbed but somehow satisfied with my newest encounter with Charlie Aldebaran.
