Chapter 4

"I'm so glad for you, sweetheart. I really am. We're almost at the apartment. I'm surprised your father can see where he's going."

"He's not crying again, is he?"

"You know how your father gets."

"Sorry . . . I just couldn't wait to tell you. It just makes sense. I just feel like it was meant to be, you know?"

"It has come up at a very fortuitous time. . ."

Jenny yawned, "I'm going to try and catch some shut-eye. I got up really early, you know."

"What a coincidence, so did we! Haha, alright then, we'll see you soon. Love you, bye!"

"Bye, love you!" Jenny hung up and leant her head back. She tried to close her eyes but the scenery outside kept catching her attention. Without her noticing the passing of time, the view turned from grey city, to green fields and towns set further and further apart, until it wasn't just green fields, but green fields and forests, hills peeping above the forests, mountains in the distance. Amongst all this greenery, a large wooden sign catches her attention.

Welcome to

STARDEW VALLEY

She was there.

She breathes a happy sigh and begins to gather her bags. When the bus rolls to a stop she is ready-ish. She makes sure to remind the bus driver, "I have more bags, I'll need to come back and get them!"

"I'll get them!" A red-headed woman darted in and grabbed them.

Jenny rushed after her, a little concerned she was being robbed. The woman was waiting outside for her, though.

"Hello!" the woman seemed excited and bubbly, "You must be Jenny! I'm Robin, the local carpenter." She holds out her hand and Jenny shakes it, smiling in relief.

"Are you the one the Mayor-"

"Yes! Mayor Lewis sent me here to fetch you and show you the way to your new home, don't want you getting lost. He's there right now, by the way, tidying things up for your arrival."

"He didn't need to-"

"Nonsense, the town is so small, we get excited about a newcomer, now come on. The farms right over here, if you'll follow me. Let me take a couple bags for you."

Jenny followed as fast as she could, quite over encumbered. It's a nice walk though, the birds are singing, the air is fresh, with a hint of coolness of winter not yet fully gone.

"Phew, should have brought a wheel barrow," laughed Robin, struggling with the bags she had.

Jenny felt bad, "If you leave them there, I'll come back for them."

"Oh don't be silly, they aren't heavy, just awkward to hold. I'll manage."

As they approached the farm, Jenny noticed the Stones Farm sign had fallen and propped it up against the rotten wooden fencing, that seemed to separate field from forest and path. The sign was very old and worn, and badly painted. That would have to go.

"I could whip up a new one in a jiffy," Robin has come to stand beside her, "Did he paint it himself? Looks like a child did it."

"I think it was me."

"Whoops," Robin giggled, "Looks great, I mean."

"Haha, I was eight or nine when I painted it. I can admit how bad it is."

"Your grandpa must've loved you very much to keep that old sign, all these years."

"Yeah," Jenny felt sadness wash over her, "Yeah I think he did."

"Well, I know he loved this old farm too, you planning on farming? Or have we got another eccentric writer?" the red head raised her eyebrows mischievously, "Or an artist?"

"Ha! No, no – wait, you have a writer here?"

"Yes, he's handsome and single. We have an artist here too, she's pretty and single."

"Hm," Jenny looked awkwardly away. She could recognise the woman fishing for information, but romance wasn't something she wanted to discuss right now.

Robin seemed to sense this, changing the subject, " . . . Anyway, here we are! Stones Farm. The name fits, you'll see."

Jenny's sight is filled with rolling green as she wanders through the open gate, tall green trees, tall green grass, even the little cottage is covered in climbers. She takes a deep refreshing breath and steps into the field – and promptly trips.

"AH! Watch out! As I said, the name fits. Stones everywhere, your grandfather used to complain about them. Said they grew out of the earth like weeds."

Staggering to her feet, Jenny observed the farm with a more negative eye. The grass had grown in the old furrows, full of weeds and rocks. A number of trees were shattered – likely by lightning. She remembered that storm from when she was a child, and what it did to the trees. And the house was much smaller than she remembered, the windows dark and unwelcoming.

"What's the matter? Sure it's overgrown, but there's some good soil under that mess! With a little dedication, you'll have it cleaned up in no time."

Robin shot her a smile and walked closer to the cottage, dropping off the bags she was carrying, "And here we have it, your new home!"

As if on cue, the door clattered open and an old man stepped out, humming loudly. They watched him sweeping away with his broom. He vaguely reminded her of her grandfather, he'd had a hat like that. After a few seconds, he did a double-take at Jenny and Robin.

"Ah, Robin and the new farmer!" He leant up the broom, and came to shake her hand, "Welcome, I'm Lewis, the mayor of Pelican Town. We spoke on the phone."

Jenny nodded, "Nice to meet you in person. Thank you for all your help, and you too, Robin."

Robin waved her away, "It was nothing." But the Mayor seemed pleased, he ushered her towards the cottage, "You know, everyone's been asking about you. It's not every day that someone new moves in. It's quite a big deal!"

He turned to look at the farmhouse, hands on his hips, "So . . . you're moving into your grandfather's cottage. It's a good house," he slapped the porch, quickly snatching his hand away and looking at it, ". . . Very rustic."

Robin laughed incredulously, and gestured rudely towards the house, "Rustic? That's one way to put it! 'Crusty' might be a little more apt though!"

Mayor Lewis spun to send the woman a rather fearsome glare, "Rude! Don't listen to her, Shepard. She's just trying to make you dissatisfied, so you'll buy one of her house upgrades."

"Hmmph," Robin crossed her arms, but Jenny noted she didn't disagree.

"Anyway . . ." continued the Mayor, "You must be tired from the long journey, and early start! You should get some rest. Tomorrow, you ought to explore the town a bit and introduce yourself. The townspeople would appreciate that."

That . . . wasn't a bad idea, but the way he put it, so pushily. It rubbed her the wrong way. But she still smiled politely at him, "Will do, Mayor."

The Mayor began to walk away, "Oh, I almost forgot. If you have anything to sell, just place it in the box by the gate. I usually do my round late at night, and I'll collect it. Well . . . good luck!" Anything to sell, like what?

"Bye! Nice to meet you, Shepard!"

"You too, Robin. Bye! Bye Mayor!"

Phew. Now to get down to business. Jenny climbed the creaky porch stairs and went in. Went in prepared to scream blue murder about spiders. However, the Mayor had done a surprisingly good job, there were no webs, and the floor was dust free. The windows were a bit grotty, filtering the light in a disconcerting way, but the place was clean. It wasn't too horror-movie-ish. She flicked the light switch, and the lights came on. All good.

She'd test the TV and radio later, but for now . . . she chucked her bags onto the bed, which sent up a cloud of dust, unzipped her duffle and pulled out the box of cat biscuits. She took a handful and put it in her pocket.

One quick text to her parents, to let them know where she was if they turned up, and it was time to go and look for a cat.

Out on the porch she made her first attempt, calling, "Tibbs!"

Somehow she knew it wouldn't be that easy. She gave a few more calls, wandering slowly from the house and heading into the messy field. She half expected to see fairies.

The dream. Jenny turned in the field, to face the wooded section of the farm.

Feeling a bit strange, she took the path from her dream. The one to the shrine. Time to see if it was real or not.

Soon she found her way there in a kind of daze, unsure just how she managed it. But there it was; the shrine, and there was the orange cat, too. It's very much like her dream, except her grandfather isn't there, and the candles aren't lit.

"Hello," she called quietly.

He'd been watching her with his green eyes from, she suspected, the beginning. Yet when she spoke, he almost ran away. She saw him warring with himself. Run or stay?

"Oh, please don't run, Tibbs. Look!" She takes her handful of biscuits out and puts some on the ground, "Here Tibbs!"

The sight of the biscuits, or perhaps the sound of his name, is somehow enough to earn her his trust. He nervously ate a few biscuits, almost choking, blinked at her, ate the rest and then meowed plaintively.

"You want some more?"

"Meow." He started winding around her ankles.

"You want to come home?"

"Meeow."

She picked him up, almost shocked at how accepting he is. He sits in her arms, purring away, little paws kneading at her. He seems so happy, she almost tears up. Does he know who she is?

"Meow."

"Let's go home, Tibbs."

"Meow!"

Home. That felt right.