Chapter One: Morning Jog
A/N: Just so you know, I have every right to be working on this, 'cause I just updated AMPR with a very long, satisfying chapter. I have EARNED the right! Thanks for y'all's reviews! Really: THANKS.
Jack's Point of View
Finally, my field is clear! Clear of all rocks, boulders, stumps, logs, unproductive trees, and those ever-so-persistent weeds. I finished it yesterday evening, and it feels so good to step outside on a beautiful summer morning and see a clear field. That is, clear except for the corn and tomato gardens, which have been blooming rapidly for the past two weeks. They're beautiful, I tell ya. Just beautiful.
It's unfortunate, though, that the only two beings I have to share it with are my faithful dog Sparky and my beloved pony Rhoda. The three of us live alone here on Old Man Redd's farm now. It's where we've been living for the past season and a half.
Actually, I've forgotten about our two new members of the family. Henrietta and Conchetta are my new hens. They live out in the chicken coop next to the big apple tree. They seem to be good chickens. I've gotten sixteen eggs from each of them so far.
Man, what a beautiful sunrise. In the east, I can see a remarkable orange light peeking over the edge of the ocean. It won't be two hours before it's totally emerged into the baby blue, cloudless summer sky, beating Mineral Town with minute after minute of near-unbearable heat. Another reason I'm so happy about my clear field.
I bend down quickly to secure the knots in my shoelaces, preparing myself for my daily jog around town. The "streets" of Mineral Town are positively ideal for morning joggers like me. The turf is even, the roads are clean, and the people are friendly.
Standing erect, I adjust my worn-out old ball cap, check my watch (5:24 AM), and set out. I jog at a fairly quick pace. I always make sure to keep my strides even and lengthy as possible, adequately pumping my arms and checking my watch each time I round a corner.
I look down, past the black basketball shorts swishing around my knees, at the ground, around my feet. I guess Sparky has decided not to accompany me today. Some days he comes, some days he doesn't. Some days, he stops at Barley's place and plays with their puppy Hannah for a while. But he's always by my side when I get home.
As I pass the Poultry Farm, I think about the young girl who lives there. She's very cute, with long, curly pink hair and pretty blue eyes. Her name is Popuri Bennet, so whenever I think of her, I think of the book, Pride and Prejudice. She seems to be very nice. I talked to her quite a few times in spring, but haven't seen much of her this summer. Her mother, Lillia, says it's because of the beach guy who comes here every year. His name's Kai Something-Or-Other. I've been to his restaurant, and it ain't half bad. He seems like a pretty weird guy. He invented a musical instrument and sells it for a living. If I was Popuri Bennet, I'd be much more interesting in me.
I've already passed the blacksmith, who is supposed to be working on my watering can right now. He said it'd be ready today, so I need to pick it up before I get home this morning.
When I reach the Animal Farm, where the old man Barley lives, his little granddaughter May begins to run after me asking, "Jack, Jack, where is Sparky-dog?"
What in the world is this little girl doing up so dern early? I laugh heartily and tell her, "He's not with me today. I'll bring him by for you later, okay?"
"Okay," she answers with a grin that's missing several teeth. Baby teeth, of course.
Here's the second corner. My watch reads 5:35 AM as I enter the town square, devoid of all people and activity, other than me, jogging briskly through. I'm outta there in two minutes; it's a very sizable area. As I round another corner, it's 5:37.
The next five minutes is just scenery. There's a large, fenced off flower garden on the right, and to the left is just grass and trees upon a short curb. This is where I always pass Basil the botanist and his wife Anna taking their morning walk. They are always showing some sign of affection like holding hands or something, and today their arms are linked.
"Mornin', Jack," Basil says to me.
"Good morning," I answer back. Anna just nods with a meek smile.
They have a daughter named Mary who is only one year younger than me. I've seen her before in the mountains or when I go to the library, which is where she works. She has long, long, dark hair and hazel eyes that seem to know everything. She seems nice, but I wouldn't call her attractive.
Doug Green is walking out the door when I pass his home and workplace, the Flowerbud Inn. He waves at me with a smile, both of which I return, and says, "Good morning there, Jack! How's it going?"
"Good," I reply, my strides not faltering. "You?"
I have to look over my shoulder now to see him. "Good. Be sure and come by later!" he calls. "Today at lunch we've got sandwiches half price!"
My stomach growls hungrily at the mention of food. "I'll do that!" I holler over my shoulder.
There's the winery. I've been there once because Sasha at the Supermarket told me I could get free wine with first purchase. Boy, did that turn out to be dumb. I ended up walking out of there empty-handed 'cause the jerk who owned the place refused to let his wife give me a free bottle unless I bought 200G's worth of the stuff. Like I was gonna spend 200G for a free bottle of wine. Besides, Sasha gave me a sample, and it wasn't anything to brag about.
Another corner. I turn right. It's 5:48.
It takes less than a minute to round the next corner, so I don't bother checking my watch. I pass Basil's place, then the tiny library. Next is Mayor Thomas's house. He has got to be the funniest looking man I have ever seen. He's about five feet tall with a handlebar mustache and a bright red top hat. He's a rotund man with a smile as wide as his round little head. I love 'im.
I pass the doctor's office, too, before I reach the Supermarket. That's where Sasha, her husband Jeff, and their eighteen-year-old daughter Karen live.
Now, Karen. . .Man, is she sweet on the eyes. She's tall and slender, with long chocolate milk-colored hair and blond bangs. I know her better than I know any of the other girls, which is still not all that well. The word is that she can dance like no other and has the voice of an angel but can't cook worth beans. Jeff says she can't even cook beans. But man, is she sweet on the eyes...
I pass the chuch before rounding the next corner. I've been going there every Sunday morning, and it seems to be a very nice church. The pastor, name of Carter, is really a great guy. He knows his stuff, and I can tell he's really in touch with the Lord. It's nice to live in a Christian community.
It's 6:00 sharp now.
I now have to jog down a path I've already traveled, past the town square again. I would turn and go the other way, you know, past the Inn and the winery an all, but I need to stop by the smitty's and pick up my watering can.
I don't reach the next corner until 6:11 AM, where I strangely meet up with Sparky. He normally doesn't ever leave the farm unless he's with me, so I'm betting May went over there to get him. "Hey, doggie," I say to him. "Have you been playing with May?"
The dog hardly even looks up at me, just falls into step by my side. Goob. He looks like he's just some mutt, but he's actually a scrawny little wire-haired Jack Russell Terrier. I found him hanging around alone by the docks back in the city. He looked like he needed some food and a nice bath, so I picked him up and took him with me to Redd's farm. I have no idea how old Sparky is. Zach the produce shipper, who lives in the beach house, says he used to have a dog like him and that Sparky won't get much bigger than he already is, meaning that he's at least nine months old. He looks to me like he's about two years old, but Zach says you never can tell with Jack Russells.
I finally reach the blacksmith and twist the knob to open the door. Saibara, the crazed-looking old man who owns this tiny shop, is sitting behind the counter looking half asleep. But I guess he's not asleep because he gruffly says, "Jack! I have the watering can!"
"Good morning, sir," I say. I guess I call him sir because I'm afraid of him. He's a scary-looking man.
Saibara gives me an odd look and fetches the now-gold watering can from underneath the countertop. "It's a good tool," he says, his voice of the same tone and volume the whole way through the sentence. "Saves time."
"Thanks very much, sir." I take it from him and smile at it. It looks pretty good. "See you later."
The man says nothing as I leave the shop. His grandson, Gray, is normally there working, but I didn't see him this morning.
I start to just walk home with Sparky nipping affectionately at my heels until a feminine voice causes me to stop. "Jack!" it cries. "Hey!"
I look up and to my left to see Popuri Bennet on the other side of the Poultry Farm fence. It looks like she's just exited her house. "Hey," I say in greeting. "You always up this early?" I approach the waist-high fence until I am leaning on it with both hands.
She rolls her sky blue eyes a little and replies, "Yeah. Mama has this untested theory that chickens are easier to handle in the mornings. But it's not a terrible thing to wake up early. Gives you more time in the day."
I nod and smile. She sure is cute. Even this early in the morning, her face is radiant with happiness and cheer. There's laughter in her eyes. Despite her simple wardrobe, a pair of denim shorts and a brand name tee, she still is beautiful. "Do you mind me asking how old you are?" I say, a little hesitantly.
She giggles a little and answers, "Sixteen," with pride.
Sixteen! Dang, I didn't know sixteen-year-olds were ever so mature, and not just bodily speaking. "Wow," I say before thinking. Great, now she thinks I'm some perv ogling over a teenage girl... "I don't mean to be - "
"Don't worry about it, Jack," she says, her voice forgiving and at the same time charming. "I grew up faster than most girls my age 'cause I'm surrounded by girls who are at least two years older than me. I understand what you meant." Popuri's smile is that of an angel's.
"Well, you seem pretty smart for a sixteen-year-old," I say. "Are you still in school?"
"Nope," she answers, again with modest pride. "My mama homeschooled me from the day I was born! I finished school last year and I've got bonafied high school diploma hangin' up on my bedroom wall!" She laughs musically.
"That's amazing," I tell her, genuinely impressed. "I only graduated three years ago."
"So you're what, twenty. . .one?"
"That is correct," I reply.
"No college?"
"Just junior college. Only two years of it. God just told me I should be here."
"You're a Christian?" I can't identify whether she is enthused or disgusted.
But I answer with confidence anyway. "That's right."
"That's awesome!" she squeals. "Oh, that's right! I've been seein' you at church. I forgot!"
"It's all good." I absently check my watch. 6:21 AM. Oops! "Well, I'd better get home and take care o' my own chickens! Nice talkin' to you, Popuri."
"You, too, Jack," she answers with charm. "I'll be seeing you."
"Later!"
A/N: Well, I had a jolly good time writing that. Still introducing things. Sorry if it was a bore. I had a good time. Review and let me know if you did or didn't, too!
