Chapter 2: Brand New Day

The night had been anything but peaceful. Try all he could, Asher had found himself ever at odds with the small, ramshackle hut – He simply wasn't accustomed to the noises of the wildlife outside. Crickets chirped, frogs croaked and someone – He wasn't sure who – Owned cows.

Cows that were close and not shy about mooing the night away.

'Get used to it.' He told himself, as he pulled himself sleepily from his bed and glaring angrily at the clock beside him. It was one of the few appliances he'd thought to pack; though the blinking digits that told him of the early morning looked anything but enticing. 'I'll probably have cows at some point; best to get used to it now.'

He was used to noise – The city was full of it. Yelling, traffic and the sound of industrial work at all hours of the night; those he was acclimated to, and had been for years. Now that they were gone, it was as though he'd left a part of himself behind – One that would take some time to get used to. He reached for his jeans, left discarded upon the floor after his nighttime task and to his surprise found them not at all where he'd left them. "Wha..?" Asher wiped the sleep from his eyes and looked about the room. His jeans were gone – And his other clothing along with it.

"Well... Shit." His first night here and he'd been robbed already? Pelican Town wasn't off to a good start – Thankfully he'd thought enough to pack a few spares, but this still rubbed him the wrong way. "Who the hell steals clothes anyw-" His words stopped short as he spied the errant articles across the room – Folded neatly upon the table.

Asher froze, suddenly aware that he might not fully be alone. Slowly, he eased himself towards the table nearest his bed and reached for the drawer. Before bed he had unpacked his meager belongings, and one such item lay within – One that might well help him now against a wayward intruder. He stilled, considering the ramifications of it all, before shaking his head and turning away.

Not again – Never again.

Instead, he scoured the room; if someone else was here, there wasn't anywhere to hide save the bathroom – And nothing else looked disturbed that he could see. With as much paitence as he could muster, Asher crept towards the bathroom and, after listening for a moment at the door, threw it open and sprang inside. "Ah ha!"

Whatever it was, it wasn't human – And it was gone before he could reach the lights. Only out of the corner of his eyes did the new farmboy see anything at all. It had fled too quickly, leaving him to wonder if, truly, there had ever been anything at all. "Rats?" He wondered aloud, scratching at his head. He'd had to deal with exterminators back in the city; the little devils were a nightmare to get rid of.

Returning to the main room he turned his attention to the clothing – Not only had they been carefully and meticulously folded, but also cleaned and pressed as well. He lifted the shirt; it even smelled clean! "Not rats." But then who? A too-friendly neighbor, eager to make his acquaintance, or was this still more of Lewis' hospitality?

If it was, the old man had crossed more then a few lines.

Unable to come to an answer, Asher dressed himself and looked again to the clock; somehow his little venture had wasted nearly half an hour already, and the day was anything but young for a farmer. He reached for his bag, snagging out one of the energy bars he'd brought along. The cottage lacked a kitchen – He would have to go into town at some point.

But for now that could wait; he had enough sleep and food in him to make some manner of dent in the titan of work awaiting him outside. Armed with the axe and the hoe, he made for the door. "If you're still in here somehow..." He said to the household, "Make yourselves scare before I come back."

Naturally, the cottage was mute in reply, and he trudged solemnly outside.

A neatly wrapped present awaited him on the deck – One that he nearly tripped over before spotting. The tag bore his name, prompting him to lift it up for closer inspection. 'Huh.' Maybe it was a neighbor after all! He looked around, but with no one in sight, he remained just as clueless as ever. Curious, Asher quickly unwrapped it, walking down towards Lewis' deposit crate as he did. He wasn't here for charity – Whatever it was, the town could have back. But as he went to dump the contents, a note within caught his eye.

"To get you started." He read aloud; the writing was small and cramped, yet neat all the same. He had little trouble reading it. "Welcome to our town. Lewis." Beside it was a small packet showing what he faintly remembered was a parsnip upon the front – A packet that rattled gently as he lifted it. "Huh. Alright then."

Charity was one thing; but this would actually be of use. Even if he wanted to, he couldn't grow anything out of thin air and dirt – He still needed seeds to get himself started, and now that answer had presented itself. Beside the crate was a trash can – One that Asher quickly rid himself of the garbage – And pocketed the packet of seeds, alongside the note. Eventually he would see Lewis, and then he could ask about the clothing.

It was a conversation he wasn't looking forward to.

Before him, the workload rose like a monster awaiting it's destined duel; Asher sighed anew – This was impossible! When he had made the decision to come here, he had expected some manner of farm awaiting him – Perhaps even one that he could've just picked up on along the way – But this? With a grimace, he approached the nearest log, crushed into the ground just a few feet from his steps, and raised the axe.

The first swing was easy – He was lanky, but not weak. The second came easier, and as the wood splintered and broke beneath him, Asher realized the chore didn't simply end at destroying the wreckage, but at carefully collecting and disposing of the remains. He turned, spying a woodshed open just beside his door and nodded quietly; at least he had a plan.

Silently, he settled into his work; though mundane, the constant chopping and movement kept his mind from wandering too far – And probing into issues best left alone. It was grunt work, but sometimes a person needed that simply to get by, and as long as he wasn't thinking, Asher felt more like himself again.

Which made it all the more vexing when he heard the sound of footsteps not his own.

"Ho there!" Called Lewis' cheerful voice from down the road. Asher wiped at his forehead with a sweaty arm – A bad idea he quickly noticed – And looked back at him. "Hard at it already I see!"

"That's the job, isn't it?"

Lewis grinned wide, and gave the deck a knowing look. "You got my gift, I trust?"

Asher nodded in reply and opened his mouth to speak – Before stopping. He'd planned to ask Lewis about the morning oddity right away, but now that the man was here, he realized he hadn't the slightest idea how to ask! A scowl crossed his face; one that he aimed at the ground. Lewis tilted his head to the side.

"What is it? Problem with the seeds?"

Quickly, Asher shook his head, and even held up the packet to showcase his gratitude. "Not at all! I just..." He looked towards the parsnip, as though the pictured vegetable held any secret answer for him. At once, a realization hit him. "You left it on the porch. I guess that means you didn't go inside?"

At that, the mayor frowned, and looked even more baffled than before. "My boy, I'm not sure what kind of place the city is, but no matter how close we might be out here we still respect each other enough to knock." A smile broke through, showing his jest and good nature had returned as well. "How was your first night?"

Embarrassed, and wanting little more then to move on from the events of the night, Asher only shrugged. "Different, but nice." He lied, "The air is better out here; makes it easy to sleep." Not a whole lie, but close enough.

Lewis took a seat on the steps, stretching out his arms before him. "Surprised to see you up and about so early. Would've figured you'd take it easy your first few days at least." He laughed; it was a warm and rich sound that seemed to carry upon the wind. "We have folks who've been here for years that still don't handle mornings well."

Asher turned back around – He'd nearly been through his twelfth log when the mayor had deigned to visit. He raised the axe, "I guess I'm just strange." He chopped once, twice. 'Rude, Asher; try again.' Another swing, and the wood splintered enough to readily move. "I mean, I remembered my grandfather always up at the crack of dawn; I figured I should do the same." He set the axe beside the hoe and reached for the wood. As he moved to stack it with the rest he caught the mayor nodding with agreement – And for the first time noticed a bag seated alongside him.

"What's that?"

The question caught them both off guard – Asher hadn't meant to ask so directly, but with how Lewis had treated him so far, he somehow knew it was something else for him. He could barely maintain a look of surprise when the mayor offered him the bag. "A few more supplies; I forgot this yesterday when I hurried over. The bag should serve you well too, since I didn't see you come here with a vehicle – At least you can carry some produce into town now."

'If I can get anything to actually grow here...' Thought Asher glumly as he fished open the bag and looked inside. His heart stopped; a leather-wrapped item curved up until it's wooden handle lay within, just waiting for him to reach for it. Quietly, he pulled it out, and gently let the bag fall by his feet. "What..?"

"It's not much, but until you can get Clint to make you a better one, that's a good bit of metal for trimming crops or getting rid of all the tall grass that's about." Lewis told him plainly, seemingly unaware of Asher's growing distress.

The farmboy lost himself in thought as he tightly grasped the handle. Gently, he undid the bindings upon the blade, and as the steel became unearthed the metal shone brightly in the morning sunlight.

'Don't do it!' A memory screamed – A woman's voice; one that used to mean everything.

'I'm sorry! I'm sorry!' Cried another; it was a voice that had been quickly silenced.

Asher took a staggered step back, nearly pitching off the deck until Lewis grabbed for him, and steadied him with a strong arm. "Whoa there!" His face was awash with concern, and with a worried shake he brought Asher back to reality. "You alright there son?"

At once, the memories receded, and the farmboy was left with little beyond a tired piece of metal, and one concerned old man. "I'm fine." He blurted out – Almost too quickly. Lewis looked doubtful, but Asher quickly wrapped the scythe anew and replaced it into the bag, "Really I... I guess I didn't get as much rest as I thought." His mind raced; everything was crumbling already! He had to think! "I... I'm also kind of hungry, so I guess I'm weak? I've been working all morning and... There's no kitchen here so..." He knew readily that the sweat upon his brow was no longer from the labor.

Thankfully, Lewis seemed eased by the admission, "Well then you're in luck – We've got a fine saloon and eatery just up the road! Why, I bet ol' Gus would be kind enough to whip you up a nice welcome meal if'n I asked him!" He gave Asher one final, reassuring pat and released him before stepping off the deck.

Asher dropped a sigh he hadn't realized he'd been holding and looked angrily down upon the bag – As though the item within were solely at fault for all of this.

"Come along; let's get you fed."

The work around him still demanded his attention, but Asher realized the futility of trying to argue his case; if Lewis had it in his head the boy needed to eat to continue, then he had no hope to convince him otherwise. "Let me clean up; two minutes." The mayor granted him that, but his expression already warned that he would wait little longer.

Himself again, Asher swept himself from the deck, collecting his scattered tools from the ground and returning to place them inside. Even if the incident with this clothes hadn't been Lewis' doing, he didn't want to take any chances with would-be thieves. Yet as he opened the door to replace the tools, he saw a multitude of somethings scatter and run.

And he heard something as well.

'Not rats.' He reminded himself, 'But then... What?' For now, Lewis was waiting – And it was likely his unknown roommates weren't going anywhere anytime soon. Asher carefully returned the tools and steeling himself, hung up the scythe beside them. The bag he slung over his shoulder and, with a wary look back into the room, he left and locked the door.

"A careful one." Lewis observed, watching as Asher approached, "That's what city living will do for you."

Confused, Asher could only grant the man a raised eyebrow of mock surprise. "People here don't lock their doors?"

They started on down the road, Lewis seemed almost to shrug. "On occasion. We don't have thieves here in Pelican Town, Asher; I wouldn't stand for it. We're like a family, see – You don't do that kind of thing to family."

'Depends on the family.' The farmboy thought glumly, trying to keep his mind on the task at hand. "You shouldn't tell people that."

"Eh?"

Asher thumbed over his shoulder, "The lock thing. I'm still new; even if they're trusting I doubt people would want someone like me knowing they keep their doors unlocked." Lewis scowled at him, and the boy quickly threw up his hands in defense. "I'm just saying!"

The anger gave way to a meager sigh, and the older man nodded his head in understanding. "Vernan always said I was too trusting, but then so was he. I got that from him you know." He gave Asher a cursory glance. "I think he talked about you once or twice or drinks; guess you two weren't close until the end there?"

In truth, Asher hadn't thought of his grandfather for years until the day he got the letter leaving him the farm – And indeed forgot the man again until the day he fled the city. Suddenly he felt guilty; was he just using his former guardian for his own selfish gain now? Asher made a face; surely not! He'd loved the man, but they were worlds apart – Vernan had always been a man of nature and strength – The kind that not only could make his own way in the world, but needed to.

Nothing like Asher; and now the new farmboy had to fake it until he believed the lie.

At once he realized the older man was still awaiting an answer. "It'd been a few years, I guess. I was busy with work and life and..." He stopped short and looked away; hoping that the suddenly silence would deter Lewis from probing further.

The man failed to take the hint. "What kind of work?"

Asher looked on ahead; the town was unfolding all around him. He spied a doctor's office beside a general store, neatly surrounded by a carefully swept stone street, and nature seeming to decorate it all. A stonework building lay further down the road, with a half-tipped mug of ale painted painstakingly upon the side – Surely the saloon they sought – And further on, Asher all but swore he saw a familiar sort of structure. "Joja." He finally answered, grimacing. "I worked for Joja Mart for awhile."

The name seemed almost to sour the mayor, but he quickly hid his distaste. He pointed on up ahead, towards where Asher had already been looking, "We've got one of those out here, actually. I'm... I'm not the strongest supporter of their ilk, but the money they pay keeps the town afloat. In truth I'm not sure we could..." He stopped, seeming almost to remember something before waving away the thought. "But that's all by the by; I just remembered I have a few errands to attend to."

The admission caught Asher off guard, "Errands?" He couldn't help but ask.

Lewis was already walking away, but he turned to indicate the saloon. "That's right, but I'll be around later! Head on inside and look for Gus; his cooking is the tops!" So saying, he disappeared into the general store without another word.

Alone, the farmboy stood dumbfounded in the town square, awkwardly looking around. The streets felt deserted, yet he could swear he felt eyes upon him; he wanted to look but forced himself to stay still. 'I could go home.' He realized, 'Lewis is gone – I don't have to stay in town. I can just go back, ignore all of this and-'

A rumble from his stomach silenced any further notions of retreat. The energy bar he'd had was anything but satisfying, and the mere notion of trying to work on an empty stomach threatened now to be his undoing. Resolved, he turned on his heel -

And slammed bodily into someone behind him.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I wasn't planning on having another chapter done so quickly, but I had an idea I wanted to run with and I felt it best not to delay - Lest I lose it from waiting .o Slightly more of Asher's horrid backstory will be revealed as we go on - Ideally I'd like to try to sprinkle it in every chapter or two so it doesn't feel tacked on - And thankfully I'll be able to start introducing more beloved Stardew folks as early as the next chapter! :D