Chapter Text
Since she was born Andi always spent the summer on her grandpa’s farm. When she was six, her parents stopped coming with her, opting to work longer hours—her sisters, both a decade older than her, where off living their own lives. During the rest of the year, Andi’s life was lived in far too much solitude for a little girl. Grandpa’s far was a safe haven if there ever was one. Pelican Town was thriving; she had kids her own age to play with all summer. Grandpa said he was her favorite because she actually visited and she was a hard worker. He said if anything where to ever happen to him the far would be hers—all hers. That was a scary thought for a a six year old.
Six turned to seven which turned to ten which was leading up to thirteen. Andi was bored of the city. She looked forward to her summer in paradise. She had tried to write letters to her friends there but all kids normally got overwhelmed half way through the school year. As she sat in class, wondering what was going on in Shane’s own little world, the principal came in and pulled her out of class. He wouldn’t tell her what was happening; the young girl was stuck somewhere between triumph and panic. Had she done something wrong? Was she being rewarded?
All color left Andi’s face. Her father’s eyes met hers through the offices window. His face was puffy and his eyes were red. He was crying. She wanted to run away. Dad never cried. She tried to turn around but the principal put a hand on her shoulder. The moment she passed the threshold Dad enveloped her in a hug. A hug that told her somehow it wasn’t Mom or Kati or Mari or Dean or Camdon. It was Grandpa. He was gone.
At thirteen, Andi didn’t understand the letter left to her. Or the fact that it was the only thing in his will. Grandpa had many kids and many grandkids. He had been serious about her being his favorite. No one even argued about it because that would require people to show up. She was the only one of the grandkids to show up even after he was gone.
The funeral was in Pelican Town, held in the small church in Pierre’s home. Andi always thought it was strange that the only church in town was within the general story but that being said Pelican Town wasn’t deeply religious. How can you be when there’s legends of monsters in the caves underneath your very feet?
“Andi,” the voice cut through the crowd. “Andi!”
She turned and was shocked at the appearance of the boy she would call her best friend if she was more confident. “Shane? What are you doing here?”
“Aunt Marnie got me a flight for the funeral. I’m so sorry. Your grandfather was a great guy.”
“He really liked you.”
This made Shane laugh. “He liked that I’m good with chickens.”
At fifteen, Shane was already towering over her. Andi wish she could catch up. It wasn’t like was exceptionally tall. She was just rather short. At fifteen, Shane already smelled liked booze. When Andi caught a peek at the flask in his pocket she pointed her eyes to it.
“Oh, um. Shit.”
“It’s cool. Can I have a sip?”
He frowned. “No. You’re a kid.”
“So are you!”
“I’m nearly 16.”
“So what?!” She shouted, pissed off at his high horse. “If you can be drunk at my grandpa’s funeral then I should be allowed a sip.”
He stared at her in stunned silence. “I am not drunk.”
“I can smell it on you.”
Shane pushed past her, knocking her shoulder as he did. “Grow up, Andrea.”
Penny looked up from her book. “You okay, hun?”
Penny wasn’t much older than Andi but always took a motherly nature with all the younger kids. She had a knack for it, always talking about going to school to become a teacher.
Andi shuck her head. “What’s wrong with him? We used to be close and now he’s—”
“His brother and sister-in-law died.” Emily interrupted from the wall. “Jas’ parents. The baby that was here last summer.”
“What?” Andi gulped. “Why didn’t anyone—”
“Your grandpa was already sick and you hadn’t really reached out to any of us. So…”
Andi felt like shit. She wanted to chase after Shane. She wanted to make him feel better but this was still her grandpa’s funeral and she wanted to have someone make her feel better. She also hated that Emily kept interrupting her.
“Are you moving to the farm?” Abigail walked over, not reading the tone of the corner.
Andi’s frown deepened. “No. My parents don’t want to. My dad said he hated living here his whole life and it would have to be a cold day in hell for him to become a farmer. Plus my mom’s allergic to like every crop.”
“What about when you’re an adult?”
“I want to. I don’t know if it’s reasonable though.”
“You’re still young, shut up about reasonable!” Penny laughed, throwing her head back beautifully.
Life dulled in the absences of Grandpa. Andi didn’t have many friends in the city and the sudden loss of all her friends in Pelican Town brought the new teenager to an all time low. Where there was once a bright and lively child was now a husk of a human being. Andi barely graduated high school. She opted out of walking on the big day. There was no point; the only person she wanted there was dead and the rest didn’t have time for her now. She couldn’t afford to move out on her own yet, so she became a temp. She’d do anything they threw her way, including the seemingly more frequent positions at Joja HQ. They liked her enough to hire her. She was productive. Repetitive tasks were always her strong suit. That’s why she liked watering the crops by hand on the farm.
* * *
Rea was sick. That was the easiest shorthand for whatever was happening. She couldn’t pull herself out of bed most days. She was missing work more and more. She was at risk of falling into debt. She was gonna be late of this months rent if she didn’t pull her shit together. Her mom, ever the absent helicopter parent, shuttered at the idea her youngest daughter needed therapy. Depression was a word saved for the history textbooks––even though Grandma had definitely had something or another like that going on.
Rea had chopped all her hair in the bathroom, the dying it a bright, coppery orange. It wasn’t exactly an impulse decision. Everyone always told her she would look good as a ginger. Her grandpa was one, back when he had hair on his head. Part of her thought that was why her dad hated her so much, cause she looked like his dead dad, but then again he barely cared about the old man before he died.
Thinking about Grandpa reminded her of the letter, which had been given to her as per the will, and how it was burning a hole in her dresser drawer. She wouldn’t be late on rent if she never had to pay rent again. The city was killing her. It was the parasite that had always leeched on her soul. Pelican Town was always meant to be her home. It was what was meant to be.
* * *
The bus was far from crowded and Rea wanted to crack the joke to the bus driver that she didn’t need to sell half her shit to move several hours away from her hometown. Why opt for the bus? It was what she was used to. Her parents always shipped her off to summers in Pelican Town via the bus. The longer she looked at the bus driver in the mirror, she recognized the bus driver was the same woman who always took her back and forth.
“Miss Pam?” Rea’s voice broke a little. “Is that you?”
“Do I know you?” Her words slurred as she took her eyes off the road.
Rea panicked, this was not good. They still had an hour left in the drive, she could not be the reason they crashed.
“Um, sorry. Don’t worry about it.” Rea turned back to staring out the window.
It took everything in her not to cry, either at the scenery or at the fact she was unrecognized. It had been twelve years. She chopped all her hair off. She dyed it. She died inside. She dressed different now. Not like a slumpy, skater boy, but more like a professional newsie. Her family always laughed at her vests and pleated pants. Half the clothes she saved were her ‘nice’ clothes and then she sorted through all her old clothes for things that were suitable for working outside. A lot of t-shirts from high school and faded Joja Christmas shirts. She cut off almost all her jeans, leaving a few for the fall. She had even found some old Pelican Town sweatshirts that were probably her father’s at one time. To be frank, Rea hadn’t grown too much since she was last in Pelican Town. If she found any farm clothes she had left in her old room, she could probably squeeze into them. That isn’t to say she’s small. No, in fact, Rea had always been broad. Broad shoulders. Broad hips. She got used to it. She learned what she looked good in and what she didn’t and she disregarded all of that for personal fashion. When working in the pits of hell, the only thing you have is personal fashion.
Mayor Lewis met Rea at the bus stop, like she needed an escort. Like she didn’t know this place like the back of her hand. After she got off, Miss Pam stumbled off and headed into town. Rea hated to think of what may go on there in the evening. She hated seeing Miss Pam like this. Something felt deeply wrong.
Mayor Lewis extended his hand to her, a strange formality for a man who she once viewed almost as an equal to her own grandpa.
“It’s nice to meet you, Rea. It was such a surprise to us when we heard someone bought the the old farm.”
“Bou––” She cut herself short, realizing her didn’t even recognize her name on the papers she had sent into town notifying the town she would be coming. “Well, I needed a change of pace. I grew up on a farm and wanted to return to my roots.”
“That’s lovely. Right this way. Robin, the town carpenter is already there to talk to you about some details.”
Why would Robin have to be there? Robin, like Seb and Maru’s mom Robin. She hated referring to people solely by their first names, it felt disrespectful.
“Howdy, Farmer!” Robin waved down Rea as she passed through the gate, holding back elation and tears.
Howdy, Farmer! had been the woman’s sing-songy way of getting Rea’s attention as a kid in the crowd. For a time, Farmer was the only thing she answered to. It annoyed her entire family for the entire year. She eventually began going by Andi. She only changed to Rea once she got a full time job at Joja HQ and there was already an Andy. Her boss asked if she had any other nicknames or if she wanted to go by Andrea. She hated her full name. She would die before going by it. The only person to use it was her mother and her eldest sister.
“You must be Rea. We are so glad to have you here.” Rea’s heart sank as quickly as it rose.
Her world was crashing down. She was supposed to move here and blend right in and it would be like she never left. But she did leave––no, she was dragged out, kicking and screaming. She took up Robin’s hand and smiled; she wanted a fresh start, so Yoba handed her a fresh start. She wouldn’t go drinking orange juice on a chance of a freshly clean mouth. Even though there was already a bitter taste in her mouth.
Robin walked her through all the structural issues the old house was suffering from. The downside to never having to pay rent again. The greenhouse was completely shattered. The barn and coop were destroyed in a storm six years back, rocks and lumber littered the fields. There was no heat or air conditioning in the back half of the house and there was no insulation in that section. She chalked it up to the last owner doing it on his own. Rea didn’t need to be told that. Grandpa had built the expansion when he had her dad and uncles. Rea’s room was that back room. She could map out the wallpaper like she had designed it herself. She felt old being handed the set of beginners tools by Robin. She knew her grandpa used to work with the best, but they must had also been destroyed.
The pair was gone quickly, Mayor Lewis looking uncomfortable with the amount of individualized socialization this had required. Rea recalled he was always more personable in crowds, especially when the governor was in town. He gave them each extra serving of the stew and would pull her next to him to brag about her skills, saying she had pulled the best addition to the stew for another year in a row. Maybe he had just been kissing up to Grandpa, but none of that mattered anymore. She wasn’t Andi anymore. She was Rea. This farm was hers. And right now all she wanted to do was crash out on the bed.
Her room was just as she left it, albeit dusty. Her pink floral sheets she picked out at the ripe age of 6. The pictures scattered across the walls like constellations. For the first time since she stepped foot in Pelican Town, she felt truly haunted. Maybe it was the sleep deprivation making her delirious, but seeing her own face reflecting back at her much younger than she ever recalled actually being, she wondered how she was so lonely as a kid. How could parents leave a child so lonely?
She pulled herself into the dusty sheets, telling herself she’d was them in the morning. She would do everything in the morning. Her new life started in the morning…