It was now Spring 24 and the day of the Cooking Festival. Chelsea was less than eager to show her face in front of the entire island, but her pride as a culinary student persuaded her to participate. Despite having to do the farm chores on his own, as Chelsea was still a little too sore to help out, he managed to finish in time for them to both head over to the festival grounds and sign up for a cooking category. Mark, who had received necessary ingredients from Chelsea's ranch before leaving, signed up for the appetizer category. Chelsea signed up for salads, as it was something she could do one-handed.
Leaving the grounds to begin preparing, Mark and Chelsea bumped into Julia, who was also signing up. Julia waggled a finger in front of her and made Chelsea promise to come to her house as soon as she was done with her contest entry. A little confused Chelsea nodded and Julia walked off without another word or glance back. She exchanged a bewildered expression with Mark before continuing down the road.
They waved goodbye to each other, as Mark had made plans with the diner's cook who had offered to lend him some kitchen space for the day. Before either of them could take another step they were both teleported to their respective destinations; Chelsea wobbled a little on her landing. She could have sworn she heard an eco that sounded like the Goddess' laughter, but decided not to read too much into it. There were some mysterious phenomenon on this island, and it was best not to question them.
Chelsea entered her house and proceeded to make an herb salad for her contest entry; it would require less chopping than a regular salad, and restored more stamina when eaten, which she was sure was a judging factor. It was a rather simple recipe, and even with the struggle of using only one arm she was finished before long.
"Well… I'd better get this over with then," Chelsea said aloud to herself. Gathering up her dish in her mysteriously spacious bag, she made her way to Mirabelle's farm. At least it would be quiet today, Chelsea supposed, with everyone at home working on their recipes.
The moment Chelsea announced her presence in the shop Julia rounded the corner and charged still holding a wooden spoon covered in cookie dough. "Where have you been?" she exclaimed, "We've been so worried about you! Natalie heard you went running into the forest but we couldn't find you anywhere!"
"Sorry, Julia, I did go there first," Chelsea admitted, "but after having a rather unpleasant run in with the Witch Princess, I decided to go to the jungle instead."
"She did tell us that she had run into you. She seemed unusually cheerful about it," Julia added thoughtfully. "She told us to pass on a message too. 'If you see Chelsea I'm working on that switching spell right now.'"
"Probably want to make Clarice her mother instead," Chelsea mumbled.
"My, that news report caused quite a fuss yesterday didn't it?" Mirabelle came around the corner with bowl in hand, stirring with a spoon of her own. "Why I had several people come in here yesterday demanding I not sell any animals to you. I set them right, of course. That anyone would believe you could be cruel to your animals," she flung her spoon in exasperation at the idea, successfully splattering some ingredients on the walls and floor, before returning to the kitchen.
"I take if you two have entered the dessert contest?" Chelsea asked hopefully.
"Don't try to change the subject," Julia said seriously. "Now, first order of business," Julia reached forward and wrapped Chelsea in a gentle hug, "second, how is your arm feeling?"
"It's getting better. I'm sure in just a couple more days I'll be back to normal."
"And how about emotionally?"
"I…," Chelsea hesitated. She really didn't want to talk about it. The whole incident had hurt her more than she had thought possible. For all she disliked her mother's mind-set that news cast had crossed a whole new line in trying to alienate her from her new home. But here was Julia, truly concerned and reaching out to help. Chelsea took a deep breath and began a story which grew louder the longer it was told.
"And to think," Chelsea finished, "my mother is so completely wretched that she has the Witch Princess looking up to her. Heh," Chelsea barked mockingly, "she can have her. Maybe having a human mom will weaken her powers."
"Seems to me that having Clarice as a mother would only make her more powerful," said a low voice. Vaughn stepped into the room carrying a large sack of chicken feed. "That's the one thing her spell are missing, the desire to really hurt people."
Chelsea held her breath as she watched Vaughn enter. Her mind jumped back to all the people Mirabelle had said entered the story in a fury and was sure Vaughn would be furious with her if he had heard about the news report. She knew how much Vaughn cared about animals, and how he hated people who mistreated them. To Chelsea's relief, he looked calm and composed as he usually did.
"By the way," Vaughn said over his shoulder disinterestedly as he set the feed down, "Was that black and white cow or brown cow leather you were wearing?"
Julia gasped as Chelsea covered her head with her un-slung arm. "Not you, too," she groaned.
"How did you even see it?" Julia asked, "You weren't on the island that day. I thought the broadcast was only sent here in order to ruin Chelsea's reputation." Chelsea turned her head to glare at Julia, who returned an apologetic look.
"I was in Mineral Town and saw it through a window. I guess Clarice doesn't just want you kicked out of this town; she doesn't want you in any of them. Your family must be a big deal, huh?" Vaughn was looking down at Chelsea's slumped figure. "You still haven't answered my question."
"I would never do that!" Chelsea slammed her fist on the table. "I hated those outfits, every single one of them! My mother forced me to parade around in that animal abuse attire, with the threat that if I didn't wear them she would put more endangered animals on the top fashion list. Did you notice that I look incredibly pissed off in every single one of those shots, or were you more interested in the clothing?" Shaking with anger and looking into Vaughn's mildly surprised face, she sank back down into her previous position, covering as much of her head as possible.
An uncomfortable silence fell on the room, as Julia stared at Vaughn with the irritated expression that clearly said "nice going."
"Yo! Who set off the cow-killer?" said an approaching voice. "That's not a good idea, man. You know she carries an axe in that bag."
"Hey Denny," Vaughn replied as the fisherman walked through the door. At the same time Julia reproached, "You shouldn't say things like that, "Denny."
"Relax, she knows I'm kidding. Right?" He asked cheerfully, ducking his head under the counter to get a better look at her face. Her expression was not the one he expected. Chelsea had covered her face not in frustration but to hide the tears streaming down her cheeks. He stood upright and patted her on the back. "Oh, hey now, I didn't mean it, honestly." He stepped back as Julia moved forward to wrap Chelsea in a lose hug as Vaughn looked on silently.
"You're such an idiot, Denny," Lanna scolded as she entered the room and smartly clotted him on the head. "This isn't something to joke about! When will you learn how sensitive girls are?"
"I was only making fun of how ridiculous the whole thing is," Denny protested while protecting his head in anticipation of another attack. "I mean, who could honestly believe that fish tale? It's so much the opposite that she got herself injured while protecting her animals!" Chelsea unconsciously caressed her injured arm.
"Some people do believe it, that's the problem," Lanna said sadly, "Not everyone on the island knows Chelsea like we do. I've even heard that some of the residents who love animals have moved away in protest."
Chelsea looked up in alarm. "Don't tell me Kipp and Buck moved out!" she exclaimed, naming some of the boy farmers she had worked so hard to recruit.
"Yes, sadly they did, dear." Mirabelle, who had been listening from the kitchen, appeared once more. Chelsea's vision of the stout woman began to blur as more hot tears filled her eyes. "I tried to convince them the report was nonsense, but they just wouldn't listen to me."
"Which is why we're going to prove them wrong," everyone turned to see Elliot, the speaker, walk in with Natalie, Felicia, and Taro in toe. Elliot was holding a video camera. He held the device up proudly. "We're going to use this to show everyone how well you take care of your animals, eh... after your arm heals of course. Ow!"
Natalie punched Elliot in the arm and interjected, "I told you that would be a really good sympathy angle. It'll show everyone how dedicated she it to protecting her livestock. You can unwrap it and show the camera when we start rolling."
"Now Natalie, we should let her heal a bit first before she goes on camera," Felicia said kindly, but in such a way that the matter was clearly ended. "After all," she added with a warm smile to Chelsea, "we can't show them how you tend them if you can't tend them."
"Where did you even get that camera?" Chelsea asked in wonder.
"Well," Taro began, puffing up his chest proudly, "normally I would consider something like this an unnecessary tool for our lifestyle, but in this case I made an exception. You've done so much for this island, this is but a small thing we can do for you. We have got to clear your name!" he ended in a yell.
"Hey, as long as we have that thing, maybe we can show my fans what I've been up too," Lanna chirped cheerfully.
"Whoa now, pop-star, let's not get carried away," Natalie replied, "We didn't get this thing so you could sing to it. Besides, I thought you were supposed to be taking a break?"
"Well, a pop-star's work is never really done is it?" Lanna laughed.
"It is when you're a one hit wonder," Natalie mumbled.
"What was that?"
"Now, now, girls," Mirabelle cooed, "lets not start fighting. Remember that this is for Chelsea. I for one think it's a wonderful idea."
"I really appreciate what you're trying to do," Chelsea reasoned, "but it's never going to work. You'll never get that news station to run a retraction on that interview, or to run this tape."
"What, why not?" asked Elliot.
Chelsea shrugged sadly, "I hate to say it, but my mother has far too much influence. If she asked the news station not to run the story, they would do it. She gives them so much business they're practically in her right pocket."
"You don't have to send it everywhere," Vaughn answered, speaking up for the first time. "You just have to send it to the places that matter. Right?" he added with a look at Chelsea.
"What do you mean the places that matter?" Natalie queried.
"You can correct me if I'm wrong Chelsea, but we only have to get the footage to air in the farming towns that our island does business with. I visit most of those towns on business of my own. If you make copies of the tape, I can pass them around to those local stations."
"You would do that, really Vaughn?" Julia asked joyfully. "Oh I knew you were just a big softie."
"Don't get me wrong," Vaughn snapped. "I'm doing this for my business. If Chelsea's ranch doesn't do well then I don't do well."
"Well then it's settled," Felicia chimed with a clap of her hands. "After your arm heals up a bit more we can come to your farm and spend 'a day in the life' with you. How does that sound?"
Chelsea looked around at the hopeful faces around her, and Vaughn's sullen one, and felt some of the warmth return to hear heart. "Thank you, everyone. This means a lot to me."
"Well now," Taro coughed looking slightly flushed. "Speaking of the Cooking Festival, I think we've idled away enough time now. If everyone's ready, we'll set off now. We shall arrive in FULL FORCE!"
"Oh, just one more minute, Taro." Mirabelle hustled back into her kitchen. "My cake is almost ready to come out. You're cookies are done, too, Julia."
"We'll just wait outside then. Come on, everyone!" As Taro commanded everyone was ushered outside, save for Vaughn, Chelsea and Julia who had returned to the kitchen to fetch her cookies. Neither one looked or spoke to one another. Just as Vaughn was about to Julia and Mirabelle returned, and he lost his chance. Joining the others, they all set off for the festival grounds.
"Hey!" Mark called from across the way. "How did your salad turn out? I made a steamed egg custard. I think it turned out okay."
"I'm sure you'll do great, Mark," Chelsea smiled.
"You're looking happy. Are you feeling better?" he asked kindly.
"Actually, I am. It's nice to have good friends."
"Well you certainly came with enough body guards," Mark peered over her shoulder at the crowd of people behind her, who were returning dirty looks to anyone who dared point at Chelsea.
"Come on, Chelsea. I'll walk you to the contest table," Taro said, taking her free arm in his in formal escort style. "I'm in the salad contest too. Don't get cocky now, I'm not about to lose to some young blood…." Taro's voice faded as they moved away from Mark, who chuckled appreciatively. In truth, he had been happy to see Chelsea arrive with so many people in toe. He had been afraid that she would continue to shy away from people like she had that morning. Over by the bridge he saw Sabrina arrive with Regis and ran over to greet them.
With all the contestants now arrived, Pierre began the contest in order of cooking category. Chelsea had been right about her choice, who's herb salad had managed to outdo Taro's regular one. Regis took the soup and drink category with his tomato soup, which was an unusually dark shade of red; he refused to reveal the secret ingredient to his recipe. To Mark's surprise and delight, he took first place in the appetizer category, as Denny won first place with his main dish of marinated fish. In the stiffest competition yet, between Julia, Mirabelle, and Felicia, Mirabelle's chocolate cake ended up on top.
As the competition finished the crowds dispersed with the winning contestants joining their families and friends in celebration. Chelsea was congratulated several times by the group who had escorted her, and even Taro conceded that the better recipe had won.
"But don't get cocky, now," he rounded. "I expect to win next year, so you better be ready."
"I'll remember that, Taro." Chelsea replied with a smile. "I would never dishonor you with anything but my best effort."
"Well now," Taro nodded with a proud smile, "you're a good girl. Always thought so. Keep up the good work." Chelsea waved goodbye as he made his way home with his family.
"You're sure you'll be okay to walk home by yourself?" Mark asked from beside her. "I don't mind, really."
"Thanks, Mark, but I'll be okay. Besides," she added, pointing towards a certain someone. "I know you really want to escort Sabrina home." Mark flushed and looked about to protest, but she stopped him. "Go on, I'll be fine." He thanked her and without further ado he ran off in Sabrina's direction. Sabrina seemed to be looking past him at someone, but Chelsea couldn't see who.
"Not bad for a one-handed chef," remarked Vaughn, who had come up silently behind her.
She turned and gave him a warm smile. "I'm surprised I won, but… there weren't a lot of people in my category so… I guess I just got lucky." Chelsea looked at the orange wonderful in her hands and felt a tinge of pride despite herself. She really was just lucky to win this time around. Perhaps I should cook up something special for Taro next time I see him, maybe the winning dish, she mused to herself. It's made of herbs, so maybe he'll like it. Or maybe he'll think I'm gloating.
Completely lost in thought, Chelsea did not notice the way Vaughn was looking at her. Before anyone would notice, and before he could change his mind, Vaughn bent over and kissed Chelsea lightly on the lips. "Meet me tomorrow at the beach," he whispered, then strode away as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred. But something had happened, and someone did see. From behind a pole by the entry table, Robert watched the cowboy leave the festival, pulling his hat low over his face. And as he gazed at Chelsea, who's face was now the color of Regis' tomato soup, Robert knew that the time had come for action.