1 Spring, Year 3

Grandpa's Evaluation

I'm sitting at the single table in the kitchen, on my single chair, reading one of my grandpa's notebooks when the door opens. In walks a man I haven't seen since I was seven. He seems to be wearing loose brown flannel pyjamas, and his beard is just as grey and bushy as I remember.

When I speak, I'm almost surprised that my voice is actually working.

"Grandpa?"

"Evan. My dear boy. It's been so long since we last spoke. You were just a little boy... do you remember?"

How could I not remember? In that hospital bed, hooked up to a bunch of tubes and machines, and with that painful hacking cough, the labored breathing, the bloodshot eyes... This man looks almost nothing like that.

"Yeah, I remember. I couldn't get it out of my nightmares for a month or so..." I get up, unsure of how to behave. What do you even do when talking to a dead man? "How...?"

He smiles apologetically.

"I thought you may have forgotten me. But the truth is, I've been here all along. You see, my body has departed this world, but my heart will always remain in Stardew Valley."

"Does that mean you can't get away from here if you wanted to?"

"There's no other place I'd want to go. It's warmed my heart to see you come back, and in the two years you've been here, you've done a good job improving the place. You're doing your best, and I know you will continue to do so. That's all I can ask for. I'm proud of you, Evan."

He turns around and moves for the door.

"Wait! Hang on... Can't you... stay?"

"I am always here on the farm."

"But you... can I..." I try to order my thoughts through the confusion and arrive at one thing that's most important right now. "Why me? You have... eight grandchildren. Why did you leave the farm to me?"

"Because you're the only one who ever tried to talk to my cat," he smiles simply, and walks out.

For just a moment, my stomach floats as if I were falling, and then I feel like I fall down onto something soft. I open my eyes to near complete darkness. I quickly identify the only light I can see as the flickering of the near-dead fire in the chimney, or what I can see of it through the door between the living room and the bedroom. I'm lying in my bed, under my blankets; nothing indicates that I was ever anywhere else.

I blearily look at my alarm clock. It's five-thirty am; I have half an hour left to sleep. Or be in bed, at least. As much as my eyes itch, I'm pretty sure I'm not getting to sleep any more this morning.

I let my head fall back and try to remember everything about that dream. A healthy-looking grandpa telling me he's proud of the work I've done. That he's always going to be right here on the farm.

All this magic around this place. Is it true? Is it just my brain doing some wish fulfillment?

I jump with the shock when my alarm clock starts blearing. Wasn't it just half past five, like, ten seconds ago?

I get out of bed, get ready for the day. It's not just the first day of the season, but the first day of the whole year; It's going to be a long one.

I am so glad that I had Clint upgrade my hoe and watering can during the winter. I'm going to sow one less island this year, and keep that one for fruit trees; so I plow all the rest, go see my animals, and then run over to Pierre's to get seeds first.

I spend most of the day planting and watering. I have no time left to start working on cheese or mayonnaise today, so I spend the evening bottling my latest batch of wine.

It's only when I'm done with all this that I remember Grandpa.

I leave the shed in total darkness, though I don't need the light of my glow ring right now; the moon was full last night, and has only lost a sliver by now. As I approach the plank bridge to the shrine island, I also notice that there's a whole lot of light coming from the island that was never there before. Carefully, I cross over.

My grandpa's shrine suddenly seems to have gained two candles – and I have no clue where they came from. I'd noticed the candle holders all the way in the beginning, but I'd never done anything with them. The candles burn with a strange bluish flame.

So that dream from last night probably was something special. Where does that leave me? Afterlife confirmed? Hauntings are real? Where do those ghosts in the mine come from?

Does that wizard know about this?

How did that shrine get there? Did grandpa build it? Have it built? Did the wizard do it? Were they in cahoots together? If not, did grandpa know magic? Did he choose for this, or did it just happen? Does he know what heaven or hell he's giving up for the boredom of hanging around here on the farm? Is that perhaps the whole point?

I turn around, go inside and start a new fire in the chimney to warm up the house. I stay right where I am, sitting in front of the open hearth, and try to think.