All night I had dreams that I was back at the Joja Call Center surrounded by like fifty phones, all of them ringing. When I'd pick one up, some disgruntled customer would yell, "You don't even know how to farm! You suck!" or something similar. And it just went on and on until my anxiety was through the roof. But when I woke up, I was in my new bed and the golden light of morning was sneaking through the cracked gingham curtains of my bedroom and any remaining irritation I had, just melted away.
It was still really early, but I went ahead and got up and got dressed. I was excited to use my new bathtub, but anticipating the amount of dirt I'd get on me after working outside all day, I decided to wait until later. I pulled on a pair of overalls, a long sleeved tee and a pair of hiking boots. It was an outfit I would have never worn in the big city, but now seemed all too practical. I braided my hair down one side and then went out and stood on the front porch. I was immediately reminded of that scene in The Lion King when Mufasa shows Simba his kingdom. Everything the light touches.. It was a very large piece of land and it was almost completely overgrown. But it was beautiful nonetheless and absolutely chock-full of potential. The distant sound of the lake water lapping at the shore was relaxing. I was standing with my hands in my pockets when Sam and Sebastian came trudging up towards the house, both dressed pretty similar to me.
Sam held up a big green thermos and said, "Coffee courtesy of my mom!"
I sighed audibly, immediately grateful for the hospitality of some woman I'd never met. Coffee was the one thing I'd regrettably forgotten to get at Joja Mart the night before. I let the guys inside and Sebastian sat a backpack of supplies on the floor. He pulled from it a gift bag which he put into my hands.
"And these are courtesy of my mom," he said. Inside, there was a set of four thick-handled coffee cups all seemingly hand-carved from dark wood. "My mom made them herself," he told me, "And my step dad did the resin lining. Guaranteed to be non-toxic and splinter free."
"These are amazing," I gushed, holding one of them in my hands and inspecting it. "What's the occasion?"
"You're new," Sam replied, enthusiastically, "Everyone's stoked that you're here and even more stoked that someone is going to clean up this farm."
"Is it an eyesore?"
Sebastian shrugged. "No, not really. It's just a shortcut that's been outta commission my entire life. You go up that way," he pointed to the path I'd seen Robin take the day before, "and you go around the bend and you get to my house. Keep going north and you're at the train station. Keep going east and you get to the mines and the quarry. It loops back down too, past the community center and eventually into Pelican Town square."
"And that way," Sam went on, pointing past the lake, down south, "goes to Marnie's ranch, Cindersap Forest, the river and the Wizard's tower." I raised my eyebrows at that one, but didn't yet comment, wanting him to finish. "It loops back around too," he concluded, "to my house and some others, and then back into Pelican Town."
"And what you're saying is," I gathered, based on both guys' statements, "is that you want to pass through my farm to visit each other?"
They exchanged grins and then both nodded.
"How old are you guys?" I asked.
"I'm twenty-four," Sebastian said.
"Twenty-one," Sam answered.
"I guessed around those ages," I told them. "I'm twenty-seven. And you can feel free to use my farm as a shortcut. Anytime you want."
Sam poured us coffee and we sat at the table and discussed our goals for the day.
"I say we split up," Sebastian suggested, "One of us focusses on moving the rocks, one of us cleans up the weeds, and one of us chops wood."
"I want weed duty," Sam said, mimicking holding a scythe and swiping it back and forth, accompanied with a swooshing sound. "Seb can do rocks to work on building some muscle," he smacked his friend on the shoulder and then turned to me. "You ever used an ax?"
I laughed and swallowed a toasty mouthful of coffee. "Uh, no."
"Do you have an ax?"
Suddenly, I recalled my grandfather's letter and his comment about his bag. I visually scanned the room and when my eyes fell on a brown leather backpack hanging on a hook by the door, I stood up. I retrieved the bag, which felt empty and brought it over to the table. The guys watched me as I unhooked the clasp on the front which covered the pull-cinch. When that too was loosened, I reached inside and felt my eyes widen. My hand wrapped around something that really should not have fit inside that bag. I pulled from the backpack a wooden handled, metal bladed ax. "I guess I do," was my eventual response.
"Oh rad," Sam said, "you've got a bag of holding! Where did you get that?"
"It was my grandpa's, I guess," I replied, just as awestruck as he was. "He said all his tools were in here." I reached back in and in turn brought out a scythe and a pick-ax. I also found a hoe and a fishing pole. After that, when I reached inside, I could feel the bottom of the bag and I knew that it was empty. Throughout the entire ordeal, the bag did not change in weight or shape.
"Magic," Sebastian said, noticing what I'm sure was a perplexed look on my face.
I put the hoe and fishing rod back into the backpack and the pickaxe too as Sebastian said he didn't need it to get the small rock. Then I threw the backpack on my back and we headed outside. I'd considered eating a bowl of cereal, but I was excited to get started and decided to grab brunch a little later. We went out to the midst of the field and Sam had the scythe on both of his shoulders and I was holding the ax like a bat, unsure of where to start. Sebastian held up one thin finger and then disappeared behind the cottage, reappearing a moment or so later with a wheelbarrow.
"So let's get to it," he said, tossing his bangs out of his eyes. "Mom said anything we don't want we can put in the bin to the right of the house and Pierre will come by in the morning, take inventory and send out people to pick it up."
"Rocks and wood and weeds?" I asked, looking for clarification.
"Sure," Sam replied, shrugging. "Pierre does this thing where they pay him and he pays you. So you can swing by his shop and get the coins midday. Sometimes for money, I go fishing down by the beach and then sell 'em directly to Willy. But you can do it through Pierre too. He just charges like a pick up fee or whatever. Not much. Like 10% or something. It's helpful if you need money right away and the Fish Shop is closed or Marnie's busy doing Pilates or something."
It was a lot of information but deciding that I'd figure it out as I went along, I nodded and the three of us got to work. Sam went off jauntily swinging his tool and cutting down seeding grass and other weeds and then collecting them all in piles. Sebastian stayed near me, collecting rocks and putting them into the wheelbarrow. I tried my hand at the ax and started hacking down small trees and shrubs that had populated the general area. I took the opportunity to get to know Sebastian a little more.
"So is it just you and your mom and step dad?" I asked him.
"Uh, no," he said. "I have a younger sister that's Sam's age. Her name's Maru. She and my step dad are like geeky scientist types. My mom's hands-on and I'm-" He motioned at his shirt, which was black, and his jeans which were black, and his shoes which were black and.. He smiled, surly. "Me, I guess."
"I've never really felt like I fit in either," I offered. "But you've got Sam and I happen to think you're pretty cool if that's worth anything." I wanted to bring up Abigail because what else was there to talk about in such a tiny place? But I was willing to wait and gain his trust instead.
"I think you're cool too," he said, "Do you sing?"
"Sing?" I said, tilting my head, curious as to what brought that up.
He shrugged. "Sam's in a band. I play keyboard, Abigail plays drums and flute, depending on the tone of the song, and well.. We need a singer."
I tossed a big branch over towards a jumble of other branches. Then I dusted my hands on my thighs. "I do sing," I told him, thinking back to college and the band I'd recently quit because of the fact that I'd broken up with the bassist. "Yes."
He collected a few rocks in the front of his shirt, using it like an apron and then let them all tumble to join the others in the wheelbarrow. He looked at me, narrowing his eyes in consideration. Then he nodded, approvingly. "Cool."
—
We worked until noon and then the three of us collected our trimmings and rocks and deposited them into the bin. Back inside, I scoured the cabinets and drawers and found some old glass bowls and tarnished spoons and fixed us all some cereal. Sebastian took it upon himself to tell his friend the good news.
"Chessy sings," he said.
The blonde ran a hand through his hair, making it stick up even more messy than usual. "For real?" he questioned, looking curiously at me, "You sing good?"
"I had a band back in.. Where I moved from. We did gigs. I was good."
"Odyssey needs a singer," was his response. "I do it sometimes but I.. I want to focus on my guitar."
"Odyssey?" I asked.
He had a mouthful of corn pops when he told me, "Life's a journey, man."
We ate and then we went back out, switching from clean up to farm prep. Sebastian asked for the hoe and he started to get the land ready to plant. I asked him how he knew what he was doing and he told me that he helped his step dad in his garden. Apparently Seb's dad experimented with splicing veggies behind their house.
I got the seeds and Sam found an old metal watering can in a shed behind the house.
"Another thing about the valley," he explained, coming back from the lake with water sloshing around him as he walked, "is that time here is kinda different. Like stuff grows super fast. Tell her Seb."
Seb pulled a packet of parsnips seeds out of Lewis' box and held them up. "Like these? They'll be ready to harvest in four days." He rifled through the rest of the seeds in the box. "Potatoes are six days, strawberries are eight and, uh, green beans are ten."
"Oddly specific, Man," the blonde chuckled. "And you know all these facts because?"
"Because I help Abigail do the ordering at the shop sometimes and, uh," he looked down at his shoes, and kicked at the dirt sheepishly. "I just remember stuff she tells me."
"Of course you do," the guitarist said, shaking his head with quiet laughter. He caught my eye and mouthed silently, "head over heels."
Sebastian didn't seem to notice and went on explaining. "I've lived here all my life but I'm familiar with how the rest of the world does things. Four seasons a year, twelve months. It makes sense I guess. But here it's just.." He paused, looking for the right words. "Your turn Sam."
The blonde took over without pause. "We have one month a season. Spring. Then summer, fall, winter. Then again. Three times a year. Twelve months? Twelve seasons." He looked at me, maybe waiting for me to comment.
"Um," was all I could manage. "Okay.."
"You'll get used to it," he told me. "Everyone does eventually."
We got to work planting then and we kept everything in tight orderly rows. My hands became absolutely filthy with mud, and so did the knees of my pants, but I thought about my time at the Joja Call Center and I couldn't even start to complain. An hour or more passed and Sam pushed up the sleeve of his flannel shirt and checked his watch.
"Aw shit," he said, "I gotta get going. I told Mom I'd walk Vincent home today and I gotta shower first." He rubbed his palms on his jeans and then, chewing on his lip again he said, "Hey why don't you come over for dinner tonight Chess? You can meet my mom and my brother. Seb you should come too. Mom's making roasted cauliflower and cheese."
Sebastian's dark blue eyes seemed to light up at this. "I'll be there then." He got up out of the dirt too, holding the empty seed box. "Hey you go on, Sam. I'll finish here and then head home and shower. Then I'll swing by and get Chess and we'll come over." Turning his focus to me, he said, "That okay?"
It wasn't like I had any other plans, or would ever have any other plans again. Truthfully the only thing I needed to do was get in contact with my dad. I had my cell phone, of course, but just as I suspected, I had absolutely no service. Once Sam had grabbed his mom's thermos and left, I asked, "Do people around here have phones?"
"Home phones?" the dark haired guy replied. In the warmth of the afternoon sun, I could see that his hair wasn't completely black, but rather just really really dark brown.
"Or cell phones," I suggested, wondering if part of the magic of Stardew Valley had to do with its apparent affinity to be stuck in the past.
"There's one at Pierre's," he said. "Like to do the ordering."
"Could we go by there on the way to Sam's?" I thought maybe I could kill two birds with one stone- I could give my dad a ring and finally meet this Abigail girl and see what all the fuss was about.
"Oh," he said, "uh, sure."
Together, the two of us cleaned up, put the tools back in the bag and threw the box away. Then he helped me return the wheelbarrow to its place beside the shed, which, as it turned out, held tons of flower pots and plant stakes and what appeared to be an old raggedy scarecrow.
"We ought to get him cleaned up and stick him out there soon," my new friend suggested, "the crows here are murder."
He took his leave too, promising to be back in time to get me to the shop before it closed and I went inside to get cleaned up. I was excited to meet a few more members of Pelican Town, but it was hard to focus on that because so many thoughts were swirling around in my head. For one thing, casually swallowing the existence of magic and not making a fuss when something like a wizard's tower was mentioned was tough. The seasons changing every month and plants being ready to harvest in less than a week.. It was just going to take a while for me to accept those facts as reality.
The bath was nice. I used some toiletries I'd brought from the city and then, because the valley spring evenings were proving to be chilly, I put on some jeans and a nice sweater. I left my wet hair down and then stood for a minute looking into the old tarnished bathroom mirror. It was moments like that where I remembered that all this used to be Grandpa's and he really wasn't around anymore to tell me about it.
When Sebastian returned, he looked more presentable too. He was back in a fully black outfit, but he'd donned a leather jacket and tied his hair up on top of his head.
"Jodi's a great cook," he said. "You're gonna dig her roasted cauliflower."
We went along the path to the east and finally, I got to head inside Pierre's. It was just after 4:45 when we got there. A bell on the door jingled when Seb opened it for us and I was pleasantly surprised by the interior. It was, like everything else in Pelican Town, a blast from the past. There were wooden floors, and half wooden walls, up to where the chair rail separated that and sky blue wallpaper. There were shelves of products, most of which seemed to be artisan goods, and walls of plants and decor and everything I could think of. A counter was in the back left corner and a man, who I assumed to be Pierre, was standing behind it.
"Sebastian, my boy," he said, "Good to see you. And who's your friend?" He was a typical looking 90's movie dad, with floppy auburn hair parted down the center, glasses, and a brown suede shirt over a white tee.
"Pierre, this is Chesapeake," Sebastian told him. "She's the heir to the old Dewitt farm."
"That's right," Pierre said. "Ms. Bukater. Lewis told me to be expecting you. What can I get for you?"
"Well," I said, "though I'm sure I'll need to purchase quite a few supplies in the coming days, right now I was just hoping I could use your phone."
"My phone?" His eyebrows lifted, as though that was the very last thing he thought I'd request. "Well, yes, you can use my phone. It's through that door and around the corner in the kitchen. Sebastian, will you show her?"
My friend nodded and took me to the other corner where a brown door swung open to reveal a hallway that went to the right. There was another door right ahead, and another a little bit down the hall. We walked past both of those and entered into a big room that appeared to me to be some kind of dance studio.
"This is the pilates room," Seb explained, as though he'd read my thoughts. "And over there is the shrine to Yoba."
"Yoba?" I replied, following his direction and letting my eyes fall on a temple of sorts, complete with golden pillars, an altar and some stools sat before it. "Who's Yoba?"
The sound of a door opening and closing could be heard behind us and then, the sound of footsteps.
"Yoba's the Fern Island's deity," a female voice said. "He's pretty wishy-washy with his feelings though so it's really kinda up in the air whether or not he'll listen to you when you pray to him."
"Pretty similar to every other religion then," I quipped and turned to face her.
Abigail was a beautiful girl and I immediately realized, at least partially, why it was that Sebastian was so smitten with her. She was petite with wavy bright purple hair that framed her round, feminine face, complete with a tiny aqua bow on one side. Her clothes, though much more colorful than Seb's, were still just as expressive. She had on a vibrant teal collared shirt over tight dark leggings and brown boots. There was something mystical about her eyes too, which were strikingly lavender.
"You escorting the new girl, Sebby?" Abigail asked him. She reached up and pinched his bun of dark hair. "Nice man bun, my friend."
"Nice bow," he returned with a scowl.
It was obvious to me that they were teasing each other. Throughout my adult life, I'd been stuck in similar situations enough times to know that their actions were in effort to relieve some romantic tension.
"I'm Chessy," I said to the purple-haired girl. "My grandfather owned Dewitt Farm and when he died, he uh, passed it on to me."
"That's right," she said, nodding. "That's a really cool plot of land, your farm. I've explored it a bit. Have you seen the bat cave in the upper western area? It looks perfect for growing mushrooms." She looked thoughtful and then said, "I'm Abigail. My dad is Pierre. And my mom is the lady with green hair, if you've seen her. She runs a pilates class here. Her name's Caroline."
"I haven't met her yet," I said in response. "I've only met a few people."
"We're easing her in," Sebastian said, pushing his hands into the pockets of his jacket, "don't want to overwhelme her with all our weird locals."
"Who's weird?" came another female voice.
It had to have been Caroline. She came from the other end of the hall which appeared to turn and head even further back in the house. I immediately saw the familial resemblance between Pierre's wife and her daughter. Her hair was the shade of a fresh Granny Smith apple, and she'd divided it evenly into two doggy-ears. Her bright primary blue colored blouse was tucked into mom jeans and she'd paired the combo with a pair of sparkling white Keds.
"Sebastian is talking about the weird people in the valley with green hair," Abigail said, grinning.
"Ha ha," Caroline said, in mock laughter. "Don't give our newest member any wrong ideas. We're all very normal here." She turned her attention to me. "What was your name Dear?"
"Chessy," I provided, "uh, Chesapeake." I hesitated and then, not wanting to make us later for dinner I said, "your husband told me it would be alright if I used your phone really fast?"
"Oh," she looked as surprised as he had. "I always forget you mainlanders have such a reliance on those things," she accompanied with a chuckle. "It's right through there, in the kitchen on the table."
I left the three of them and made my way into the kitchen. It was strange to me how the place was part general store, part exercise studio, part temple and part home. But it wasn't any stranger than anything else I'd come across in Stardew Valley so I just went ahead and accepted it as normal. The kitchen was more wood, but this time the walls were blue and white checkered in a very old town provincial way. I found the phone just where she said it was and dialed my dad's cell phone number. He picked up after two rings.
"Who is this?" was his immediate inquiry, "How did you get this number?"
"Relax," I said, expecting his suspicion. "It's me."
"Goddammit Chesapeake," he barked into the phone, "it's about time you call me. I was starting to think your plane had crashed or something."
"No no," I told him, "I made it here safe. There's just no service. My cell phone is useless. And I think there's just this one phone in the entire town."
He was quiet for a moment and then he asked, "Alright well when will you be coming home?"
"Home?" I echoed. "I broke my lease. I donated my furniture. I'm not coming home."
"Not that home," he replied, cooly, "our home. It's about time you stop all this dreaming and come home and get a job at the family business."
I could have laughed out loud at this, but I didn't. "I'm not coming back Dad. It's nice here. The people are polite and helpful and it's-" I considered using the word magical, but I knew he would never buy it, so I settled on, "quaint."
"Quaint!?" He scoffed. "You're just like your mother. When are you going to realize that you're nearly thirty and it's time to settle down and make a living?"
Carefully, I thought over how I would respond. My dad lived his life in black and white. It was this or that, never anything inbetween. That's why when it came to my extracurriculars or dating preferences, I told him very little. I decided on keeping it as straightforward as possible. "I am settling down," I told him. "I have a house and a farm and I intend on staying here and-"
"And?" He cut me off. "What? Farming?" There was commotion on his end and I heard him take the phone away from his ear and growl at someone else in the room with him. "Listen Chesapeake, I have a meeting in five. We're not done with this discussion." There was pause where I assume he realized it wasn't as though he could just call me back. "How can I get ahold of you?"
"Well," I said, "I'm not sure."
There was some more talking and growling and he said, "I have to go. Can you call me back here?"
"I mean," I said, "I can, but-"
"You will," he demanded. "I'll talk to you later, okay?" He hung up, and I hung up and then I stood there for a minute. He wouldn't be getting another call; he'd be getting a letter.
Abigail went with us to Sam's and I paid close attention to how close she and Sebastian walked. At one point, the back of their hands brushed and, shyly, Seb slid his back into his pocket.
"So tell us about you," Abigail prompted. "Where did you come from? What did you do before now? What sort of things are you into? What sort of people do you hang with?"
They were loaded questions, but I was an expert at saying the minimum. I wasn't exactly much of a free speaker when it came to my past and personal issues. "Well I'm from a big city," I said as we headed south and neared the river Sam had mentioned before. "I used to work in a call center and live in a shitty apartment. I like reading, writing and singing. And uh, I hang out with all sorts of people though I tend to gravitate towards-" My words trailed off then as we came upon a pale yellow house with an orange roof. A copper sun plaque hung above the door, and mixed flowers grew beneath the front windows. But none of that mattered. I didn't care about that house, or the other house beside it which was blue and currently had Sam standing in the front yard, waving at us excitedly. What I cared about was the person holding a camera and coming our way.
She was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. Tall, thin but curvy in all the right places. She had medium length light ash blonde hair that fell over her shoulders in loose curls. Her eyes were a gorgeous shade of navy blue and shaded by long sweeping eyelashes. She had full lips, a petite nose and a delicately heart shaped face. She wore tight light wash blue jeans that left little to the imagination, a powder blue cami that hugged her flat stomach, and over that a fashionable white rain jacket. She was aloof, disconnected from the world around her, and absolutely unaware of my existence. In direct contrast, however, I was like one of those old cartoon characters with heart eyes bugging out of my head. Of course my friends immediately noticed.
We were still far enough off that she couldn't see us or hear us, so Abigail told me, "That's Haley." And then tilting her head and peering at me curiously she asked, "So is that your type then?" When I didn't respond, but instead went on gazing, lost in lust, the purple haired shopkeeper's daughter giggled. "Good luck," she said, "she doesn't talk to anyone."
Haley breezed up to us, not even bothering to meet any of our gaze's. But when she was close enough, I took a shot.
"Good afternoon," I offered, pleasantly, "I don't think we've met yet."
She came to a stop about three feet ahead of me and met my eyes. Immediately I felt as though my entire body was on fire. I was a pretty girl. I'd gotten enough compliments and had been asked on enough dates to know it. But she was.. Something else entirely.
"No," Haley said with an obvious British accent, her voice like that of an angel, "We haven't." And then she stepped around us and went on her way. And that was that.
—