Chapter Text
Getting through my first week on the farm had been rough. I was tired, sore, and a little disheartened by my lack of progress. Of course, I probably should have anticipated that there would be an adjustment period. I had gone from a mind-numbingly mundane office job in the city, to suddenly trying to restore my grandfather's old farmhouse, after all. I was so unmotivated to go on shuffling through my daily chores, it was almost a relief when I checked the mail and found a letter from Willy, the owner of the local bait and tackle shop along the beach -- almost. Since my relocating to Pelican Town, I had been overwhelmed not only by the amount of work I hadn't quite realized I'd be signing up for, but also by having to make introductions with the small flock of townspeople. Don't get me wrong, they were nice enough, and many of them had only the most lovely and respectful things to say about my dear grandfather. But I had never been the most social person, and now I had the added bonus of forcing myself to make polite conversation when all I really wanted to do was buy my tools and seeds and trudge home for a cup of tea and a nap.
But as I turned the letter over in my hands, I found myself caught between two equally uninteresting choices; I could stay home and use my quest to reclaim my severely overgrown land as an excuse to avoid meeting another new person, or I could stop in for a brief visit and put off doing my daily chores for just a little longer. Of course I had become, to my dismay, quite a popular attraction to the other townspeople. And since Pelican Town had such a slight population, I knew it was probably in my best interest to make a good first impression as often as I could. Sighing, I lifted my coffee mug and drank the remaining contents in one long sip. I had made my decision.
As I closed the front door behind me, I noticed the grey clouds hanging low in the sky, threatening to spill over. Maybe Pelican Town would be graced by the presence of a summer storm, and I wouldn't have to work on the farm today after all. Stepping off my front porch and heading for the western gate, I began my walk down to the beach. On my way, I couldn't stop thinking about how foolish I had been. I was so tired of the repetition in my life that I had all but abandoned everything I knew in favor of living a 'simpler life' on the farm. Sure, I had considered that it might be challenging, -- especially since I knew next to nothing about how to run a farm -- and I even accounted for some overgrowth, given the fact that Grandpa hadn't been strong enough to tend the land by himself for the last 7 years of his life. But I had no idea just how much work I'd have to do in order to restore it to its former glory. I was in way over my head.
As I made my way into the town square, I passed a few of the locals I recognized. Harvey, the only doctor in town, was out on his afternoon walk. We exchanged waves as we walked by. I also ran into Mayor Lewis, who briefly asked about my progress. I forced a sheepish smile as I told him I was taking a break for the day. "Well, that's understandable," he tried to assure me. "I always said your grandfather worked too hard. You take care of yourself, now."
I continued on through the neighborhood, and eventually reached the entrance to the beach. It was a little smaller than I had imagined, but still lovely, even on such a dismal day. I silently promised myself to come back sometime, when the sun wasn't in hiding. As I scanned the horizon, I noticed a small cabin by the shore, and a pier to my right, upon which sat a small shack. Willy's shop. I made my way across the sand. The wooden planks of the pier gave a small creak as I stepped over them. I rounded the corner, heading for the shop's entrance, when I noticed a man standing by the edge of the dock, about 10 feet away. He was tall and slightly muscular, and his hair was long and red.
I tried to avoid eye contact as I reached for the doorknob, but to my disappointment, it was locked.
"He's not open for another 15 minutes or so," the man called to me. Not wanting to be rude, I closed the gap between us. "Aren't you the one who just moved into the old farm?"
"Yeah, my grandfather left it to me when he passed away," I answered. "My name is ____, it's nice to meet you."
"Elliott," he replied. "Likewise."
We stood there in silence for a moment, and while I was racking my brain in search of something else to say, a part of me was also relieved at the chance that our conversation would simply end there.
"I'm sure you must be bored of talking about it, but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't curious about how things are coming along over there," he admitted.
"It's no problem, I'm used to it by now," I returned. "I guess it's going well. About as well as it could go, that is."
"Oh?" he raised an eyebrow.
"It's just I'm not exactly experienced with any of this. There's a real learning curve to it. I thought I knew what I was getting myself into, but honestly, I had no idea. And then there's the introductions -- no offence, of course."
"None taken," he chuckled.
"It's just all getting a little overwhelming," I sighed. Another moment of silence passed, and I was almost immediately embarrassed. There I was, minutes into meeting this man, and I was already dumping my problems onto him. So much for first impressions.
"I understand how you feel," he said. "I moved here just last year. Of course, didn't have to hack my way through the overgrowth to get to my front door." I blushed.
"You get used to it, though. And after a while, the excitement will die down some," he assured me.
"At this rate, I'm not sure if I'll make it that long. I love the farm, and I wish I could do it justice, but I don't know what I was thinking," I sighed.
"I'm sure it's not that bad," he said. "A little run down, sure."
"If you saw it for yourself, you'd probably change your mind," I chuckled.
"Well, I have always been curious about that old farmhouse," he mused.
"In that case, you could stop by sometime," I offered. "If you'd like." Before he could answer, the shop door swung open with a loud creak and Willy emerged.
~~~
The next morning, I rolled out of bed once more and began my daily routine. After watering the small patch of space I had cleared for my vegetable garden, I groggily headed for the old, dilapidated coop near the back of the farmhouse. I then noticed a figure approaching up the path. It took a minute for my sleep-worn eyes to make out who it was. Elliott. I had almost forgotten my invitation to him.
"Good morning, ____" he greeted me cheerfully. "I hope I'm not intruding, we never did get the chance to decide on a time."
"It's no problem at all," I shook my head. "I was just about to feed my animals, though. Would you like to join me?"
"Absolutely."
I gestured for him to follow me, and I lead him inside. It was a little crowded, but he didn't seem to mind. I went about my routine, taking the time to pet each of my animals as I went. Elliott seemed particularly amused by the ducks.
"Would you like to try feeding one?" I offered.
"Sure, if that's alright." I poured the feed mixture into his open hand and he knelt down, holding it out to one of the ducks. Elliott's face lit up as it waddled up to him and took a few bites. I couldn't help but smile too. When we were done with the chickens, I gave him a brief tour of the farmland -- the accessible areas, anyway.
"Of course, I can't speak with much authority," he said hesitantly. "but I don't think it's all that bad. It'd be a shame to give up now, ____." I kept my head down as we walked back toward the house.
"I just feel like I'm letting my grandfather down, in a way," I admitted.
"But you've put in so much work already, I'm certain he'd be proud if he were here," he insisted.
"Maybe," was all I managed to reply. We had slowed to a stop.
"You shouldn't be so hard on yourself," he pleaded. "I'm sure it's difficult, and I know that being in a new place all by yourself brings a whole other set of challenges. But I think a little patience will go a long way. Please, just give it some time."
I wasn't sure what to say, or why he seemed so invested in my staying in Pelican Town. I thought back to what he had said on the docks the day before. He seemed genuinely concerned, and it was nice to know that he understood where I was coming from, at least on some level. But I still wasn't sure if I was truly cut out for life on the farm. I didn't want to make any promises, especially to someone I barely knew. I stared at the ground as I tried to think of something to say to him, but I kept coming up blank.
That's when I noticed a small duck feather laying on the ground. It was a little frayed at the bottom, but mostly in good shape. I bent down to pick it up, spinning it back and forth between my fingers to get a good look at it. A small smile crept upon my face as I thought of how happy Elliott was as he fed and played with my ducks. Holding onto the quill, I held the feather out to him. Elliott's face softened as he took it, looking it over and then gently placing it in his breast pocket. We stood in silence, holding eye contact for just a second too long before he bashfully looked away. I bit my lip as I felt my own cheeks flush, but hoped that it wasn't too noticeable.
"I suppose I should be going soon," he said, tucking a strand of his long hair behind his ear.
"Sure, it was nice of you to stop by," I replied.
"See you around, ____," he turned back toward the path into town.
I wasn't sure exactly why, but I felt a little more at ease. Maybe Elliott was right, and things would get easier with time. But then, maybe he wasn't, and I'd eventually have to admit my failure and return to my old life. But for now, I felt somewhat hopeful, and I was happy to stay right where I was.