While Randall considered spending the next day fishing to sell his catch for a bit more cash to keep on hand, the list of chores around the farm that needed taken care of weighed heavily on his thoughts. There wasn’t anything he needed to buy right away, so he opted for putting some work into finishing important tasks at home.
It hadn’t rained overnight, although that might have been a good thing since the previous storm had caused significant damage to both the farmhouse and his field. He watered the rows of seeds he’d planted the day before. Although there were twice as many to take care of than he’d had in the spring, his new watering can meant he spent about the same amount of time as he had before.
With the field taken care of, he turned his attention to the flowers he’d bought after visiting the town hall. He’d been tired enough the night before to discourage him from trying to plant them while it was dark outside. He pulled the roots of the daffodils that were left in the pots and planters on the porch before adding the bellflower seeds and covering them over with a bit of fresh dirt. He made sure they had plenty of water before placing the pots around the edge of the porch.
Now that all his plants were taken care of, he turned his thoughts to the things he noticed would need to be done around the farm. The most pressing in his mind was collecting more firewood. He’d used up almost all of what had been in the kitchen, going so far as to transport the old scrap boards from the barn into the kitchen to be used for cooking. The scraps weren’t in good enough shape for construction anymore, but he could at least use them for something.
Randall walked out to the barn and searched through the rows of cans under the workbench. He found one held red paint and popped open the lid to check if it was still usable. Some of the paint had dried around the sides of the can, but the bottom third of the can would still be useable. He grabbed an old brush to go with it and headed west through the pasture.
Whatever wood he collected would need to be carried out, so he decided to stick close to the overgrown path he’d found that ran up into the hills. It was mostly level and would be easier to navigate with the wheelbarrow than the dense woods.
As he walked up the trail, he kept his eyes open for any trees that had died but hadn’t fallen over yet. They would have dried out somewhat and hopefully not started rotting inside since they were still standing. They should make for good firewood. Whenever he found one close to the trail, he marked a giant red F that would be visible when he came back later. That way he would know which trees to cut down, even if they’d shed their leaves when fall rolled around. He’d likely have to make a lot of trips to stockpile wood for the coming winter.
The trail led up and down the sides of several hills before eventually rising up the side of the mountain. He’d marked ten trees before he reached its end and found that it came to the mouth of a cave. Someone had built supports around the mouth of the cave then boarded up the entrance. Though the wood was weathered like most of the fences on the farm, it still held tight when he pried at the boards with his fingers.
Peering through the gaps proved pointless, since the inside was too dark to make anything out. He wished he’d thought to bring a light of some kind, but he hadn’t expected to be here after dark. Perhaps in the future he could come back with a crowbar and do some exploring, but he had other tasks to take care of today.
Randall returned to the barn, trading the paint he’d been carrying for an ax, saw, and the wheelbarrow. He’d planned to go to the farthest tree he’d marked and collect it first, but the grass growing over the trail made pushing the wheelbarrow difficult, even though it was empty. He decided to start with the closest tree so he wouldn’t wear himself out just traveling into the woods. Later, he would have to come back with the scythe and clear enough of the path to get through with the wheelbarrow.
The inside of the tree he’d chosen turned out to be hollow, probably the reason why it had died. Although this made cutting through it easier, he wouldn’t get as much firewood either. It fell with a cracking sound, splitting down the middle for about half the length of the tree. He sawed through every two feet, making logs that were about the width of the stove. Splitting them into smaller pieces was easy since the trunk had already cracked in half on its own.
He was feeling exhausted by the time he finished splitting the logs, so he loaded what he could carry in the wheelbarrow and pushed it all the way to the back door of the farmhouse. An armload at a time, he took the firewood inside and stacked it next to the stove. He started a fire going before descending to the cellar and finding another jar of peaches. He ate them while the stove warmed then grilled the sardine from the day before. The fish didn’t taste great, especially after the sweetness of the peaches, but he wasn’t exactly overflowing with options.
However, it did give him a bit more energy. He collected the rest of the firewood from the tree he’d felled, and he guessed he’d have enough for cooking purposes for the rest of the summer.
Having made decent progress that day, he decided to go to the general store and see about buying a pair of swimming trunks. As Desiree had said, it was good to relax sometimes, and the sun was shining bright in the sky above the farmhouse. He gathered his spare bits off the top of the dresser in his bedroom, grabbed a towel from a box in the attic, and set out for town.
#
The general store was empty when Randall walked in, except for Meredith, who stood behind the counter. She greeted him, so he walked over to chat for a bit.
“Haven’t seen you in a while,” said Meredith. “How have you been?”
“Doing fine I guess,” Randall replied. “Most of the time when I come here, Hank is the one sitting next to the register.”
“My husband is meeting with the mayor this afternoon,” she said with a wry smile. “Preparations have to be made for the summer festival, something I normally take care of. I guess after the earful I gave him over his handling of the spring flower competition, he specifically asked for Hank to talk about the supplies they’ll be needing this year.”
Randall chuckled. “You don’t sound too torn up about it.”
Meredith lifted a paperback novel from her lap. “Believe me, I’d much rather be doing this.” She slipped a piece of paper between the pages to mark her spot and set the book aside. “Since we were already talking about it, has anyone told you about the summer festival?”
“Christopher filled me in on the different festivals that are held each season, although he didn’t say when the summer festival would take place.”
“The festivals are always held on a weekend in the middle of each season, so you’ve got some time. There’s also a party at the Lazy Beagle the last weekend of each season, although that’s mostly a social gathering. The festivals are when competitions are held. Once Hank and the mayor come to an agreement, you could check at the town hall to find out what sorts of prizes will be given to the winners. You might want to start practicing your building skills for the sandcastle competition that’s coming up.”
“I was planning to visit the beach since I’d heard it was open for the summer,” said Randall. “That’s actually why I’m here. I need to buy a pair of swimming trunks.”
“I’ll show you where they are.”
Meredith came around from behind the counter and led him past the groceries to the back portion of the store. Next to the shelves of tools and fishing supplies was an open area with several racks of clothes. There were different sections for men, women, and children. They walked past rows of pants before reaching a small table that held various types of shorts for men.
Meredith picked up a set of swimming trunks and lifted them up to his waist. She frowned and pulled them away, examining the overalls he was wearing.
“I’d not noticed before, but these seem a bit small on you,” she said.
“Yeah, the only clothes I found in Jack’s bedroom were some overalls and work shirts,” said Randall. “Kate mentioned you might be able to adjust them to be more comfortable, but with all the things going on since then, I kind of forgot.”
“I could adjust the straps to be a bit longer so it’s not riding up. There’s also some extra material at the bottom that could be let out so half your shin won’t be exposed. It probably isn’t bothering you now, but when the temperatures drop in the fall, you’ll likely feel the cold.”
“That’d be great.” Since she mentioned it, Randall was more self aware of how they tended to ride up in the crotch when he moved certain ways.
“There are a couple changing booths over there.” She shoved several pairs of swimming trunks into his arms. “Try these on to find one that fits, and you can wear them out to the beach. I’ll make some adjustments to the overalls tonight, and you can pick them up again tomorrow.”
“Thanks,” he said as she pointed him in the direction of the changing booth.
After trying on the various pairs of swimming trunks, he settled on one that was yellow with a bit of black trim at the waist and along the bottom. They were a bit longer than he was used to, coming down to the top of his knees. He checked the tag, which said they cost 250 bits. He could cover the cost with the money he had, leaving him with 100 bits to his name. It wasn’t a lot, so he hoped he’d have no more expenses before his summer crops were ready for harvest.
He placed the swimming trunks that didn’t fit back on the table where he’d found them and returned to the front of the store. Meredith set her book aside as he approached the register. She started to laugh when she saw him but stifled it.
Randall looked down at the trunks he’d picked out and asked, “Is there something wrong with these?”
“It’s not the swimming trunks.” Meredith pointed at his legs. “You’ve got a farmer’s tan.”
He held his hands down next to his leg, and sure enough, they were a much lighter shade. He pulled back the sleeve of his shirt to find his arm was as pale as his legs.
“Huh…”
“Don’t be too self conscious,” she said. “My brother Jack got the same thing working out in the fields all day. Your tan will even out after you spend a couple days at the beach.”
Randall set the overalls on the counter as Meredith worked the register.
“That’ll be 250 bits,” she said.
That was the exact price for the trunks, so he asked, “What about for the work on the overalls?”
“For the laughs you gave me walking up here with your pale legs, we’ll call it even.”
Randall groaned. “I should probably try to barter, but I think I’ll let it go.”
He handed over the cash and she gave him a receipt.
“Thanks for your help,” said Randall.
“Make sure to come by tomorrow to pick these up, and bring any other pairs you’d like adjusted. Have fun at the beach!”
#
Randall followed the main street until it intersected another road outside the entrance to the harbor. He turned south and followed the road over a series of rolling hills. As he got closer to the ocean, the smell of salt filled the air. The road ended where the ground turned to sand, and he walked up the side of a large dune to get his first glimpse of the ocean.
Clear blue water spread out in a wide crescent shape in front of him. This section of beach was on the southern tip of the island, and the coastline curved to the north on either side of him. To the northeast, the top of the lighthouse peeked over the dunes, although it wasn’t running while the sun was high in the sky. Far to the west, he could barely make out the shore that was the southern border of Sweetwater Farm. The water in the small bay in between sparkled in the sunlight.
On the beach below where he stood, sunbathers laid out on blankets. Several people had gone swimming in the ocean, moving out to deeper water or floating on their backs near the shore. Children played in the surf or dug holes in the wet sand of the shoreline.
Randall had to shield his eyes or be nearly blinded by the light reflecting off the pale sand and bright, blue water. He scanned through the people on the beach until he spotted a petite figure with short brown hair laying on a gray blanket. He took off his shoes and carried them as he walked down to join the people on the beach.
Desiree was laying face up with her arms at her side and her eyes closed. She’d curled up a towel to use as a pillow and placed it under her head. Occasionally, she would move one of her arms or legs, so she didn’t appear to be asleep. Randall stood in a position next to the blanket so his shadow fell across her face.
Without opening her eyes, Desiree said, “Could you move? You’re blocking my sun.”
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“I guess I’ll go sit somewhere else then,” said Randall.
At the sound of his voice, her eyes popped open. “Hey, you made it!”
“I took your advice and decided to relax a bit this afternoon.”
Desiree sat up on her elbows and turned to look at him. She opened her mouth to say something but stared at his feet for a moment before she burst out laughing. Several people nearby turned towards the noise she was making. Randall crossed his arms and tapped his foot in irritation while she curled up, clutching her side. She went on for almost thirty seconds before the laughter finally wound down enough for her to speak.
“Sorry.” She giggled some more. “I’m really sorry, but you’ve got a little band of brown around your ankles, but the rest of your leg is shockingly white.”
Randall looked at his ankles, and what she’d said was true. “That must be the bit that showed between the bottom of my overalls and the tops of my shoes.”
“You’ve got to work on that.”
Desiree wiped tears away then stood up so he got his first good look at her. She wore a dark green bikini and had brushed her short hair back away from her face. Her skin was slightly darker than he remembered from when he’d seen her the previous day at the cafe. She smiled, and he must have been staring a bit too long because her cheeks turned red and she looked away.
“You look amazing,” said Randall.
“Do you really think so?” She held her arms out and looked down at herself. “I got this bikini last summer but didn’t get a chance to wear it. I wasn’t sure about the color.”
“I think it’s perfect.”
She smiled. “Then I’ll consider it a success.”
Desiree moved around the blanket, spreading it out more and shaking off some loose sand. “This is big enough for two if you’d like to join me.” She looked at his ankles next to where she was adjusting the blanket and giggled. “I’d suggest you get started on that tan right away.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
Randall set his boots down on the sand, took off his shirt, and laid it over the boots. He stretched out next to her once she’d returned to her previous spot. He rolled his towel like hers and used it for a pillow. The sun shone down, warming the skin of his face, chest, and legs. He sighed as the heat penetrated his muscles and eased a bit of the soreness that had built up while he’d collected firewood that morning.
“It didn’t take you long to get comfortable,” said Desiree.
“I’ve always found the more tired I feel, the easier it is to relax.”
“Is it hard to get an old farm like that up and running again?”
“The work isn’t difficult,” said Randall. “There’s just a lot to do, and everything involves physical labor of some kind. There’s only so much I can handle each day before I feel exhausted.”
“That’s how I feel after a long day on my feet at the cafe. I’ve found this is the best way to loosen up and let go of the stress that’s built up.”
Randall leaned his head forward and watched the people around them for a while. Besides the sunbathers laying nearby, most of the other people were doing some kind of activity. Three kids tossed a Frisbee while their parents waded in the shallow water nearby. One man threw a piece of driftwood into the ocean for his dog to fetch and bring back. Not far from where they sat on the blanket, a girl who looked to be around five years old dug holes in the sand, placing it in a small bucket to make mounds that might have been the towers of a castle. Before long, she would brush up against them with her arms and knock them over.
“Your brother mentioned the sandcastle building competition last weekend,” said Randall. “Are you going to enter?”
“I have every year since I was a kid.” She patted the side of a bag next to her head. “I brought all my supplies to practice. Have you ever thought about trying it?”
“I’ve lived in the mountains most of my life, so no. We were thousands of miles from the ocean.”
“You don’t need an ocean, just sand and water.” She stood and grabbed her bag. “Come on. I’ll show you how it’s done.”
Randall followed her down the beach to the shoreline. She dumped the contents of the bag onto the sand. Wooden cups of varying sizes and shapes rolled in several different directions, and he ran around to grab the ones that were headed towards the water. The other tools included a hand shovel, a trowel, and a blunt wooden knife. A large metal bowl had held the other items. She pulled it out of the bag and handed it to him.
“Fill this with water,” said Desiree, “and I’ll show you how to make a base.”
Randall walked out into the surf until it was deep enough to submerge the entire bowl. By the time he came back, Desiree had piled sand up to about a foot high in a wide circle. She hollowed out a depression in the middle, leaving a high lip around the outer edge of the mound.
She pointed and said, “Pour all the water in here.”
He filled the depression with the water he’d gathered. She motioned for him to crouch next to her and pressed at the sand with her fingers, kind of like she was kneading out dough. He followed her lead and did the same on his side of the mound.
“The secret to making a good sandcastle is to use lots of water.” She moved her hands around the entire top of the mound. “If it’s too dry, the sand will crumble away. You’ll know the base is ready when it’s absorbed the water and become firm to the touch.”
Randall kept patting the sand until there was no more water left on the surface. He went to get more, since they’d used up what he’d brought. Desiree sorted through the cups, placing them upright in a row from largest to smallest.
“Once you have a strong foundation,” she continued, “you should build up the rough outline of the castle. The cups are for making round shapes like the towers or other buildings. We’ll build walls between them later. For now, focus on where you want the towers to go.”
She demonstrated by filling one of the shorter cups with water and adding sand to it. After each handful of sand, she tapped against the side of the cup, and air bubbles floated to the surface. When the cup was full, she turned it over and pressed it down near the side of the mound. She pulled the cup away, leaving a freestanding pillar of sand that held together, its edges smooth as the sides of the cup in which it had been formed.
“That’s one tower.” She held the cup out to him. “You give it a try.”
Randall followed the steps she’d done, filling the cup with water from the bowl, adding sand a handful at a time, and tapping the cup so it would settle. When the cup was full, he turned it over about three inches away from the tower she’d made. He didn’t move quickly enough, and a bit of the sand fell out before he got it down. He lifted the cup up to reveal part of the lower section of the tower had collapsed.
“Don’t worry. We can fix that.” Desiree mixed together a bit of sand and water in her hand and smoothed over the broken portions of his tower. She built that part out into a wall that stretched across the empty space to her own tower. “As long as the piece that breaks off isn’t too big, you can patch over the problem.”
She showed him how she’d made the wall by bracing the back with one hand while piling up wet sand with the other. Then she pressed it down and used the trowel to carve away at the sides until the wall was straight. He put down another tower next to his first and built a wall between them. His was wider and the lines weren’t straight up and down like hers, but at least it all held together this time.
“Mine doesn’t look as nice as yours,” said Randall. “Maybe I should set the towers while you build the walls in between.”
“You won’t learn if you avoid doing it,” she replied.
Randall stared at her until she met his gaze.
“What?” she asked a bit self-consciously.
“Nothing, I just didn’t expect the little nuggets of wisdom. You’re like a zen master of sandcastle construction.”
“Oh, stop!” She slapped his arm, but she was smiling as she did it. “That’s a phrase my dad says when he wants me to learn how to cook something he hasn’t shown me before. If you saw the way we argue about it sometimes, you wouldn’t call either of us a zen master.”
Randall grinned. He’d seen both of them assert themselves strongly when they were passionate about something. He expected it looked more like two kaiju fighting over how much butter to add to a recipe. He didn’t share that image though, because he doubted she’d know what a kaiju was.
“You are right,” he said. “I can’t expect to get better if I don’t at least try to build the walls.”
Desiree’s smile turned into a scowl. “Ugh, does this mean I have to admit he was right when he said it to me?”
“No, but you won’t learn to be reasonable if you avoid doing it.”
She stuck her tongue out and went back to placing a tower she’d been working on. They’d run out of water, so Randall took the bowl to collect some more. By the time he came back, she was building up the wall between her two towers and humming contentedly to herself as she worked.
After twenty minutes, they finally finished placing all the towers and connecting walls around the outside of the castle. He’d gone clockwise while she went the opposite direction, handing the cup and other tools back and forth until they met again on the other side. His portion of the perimeter was a bit lopsided with no uniformity in the length or thickness of the walls that ran between the towers. Hers was much more carefully done, the towers spaced evenly and the walls all the same thickness.
His work hadn’t collapsed entirely, so he’d consider it a win.
“What’s next?” asked Randall.
“We need a keep in the middle,” said Desiree. “We could fill the bowl up with sand to make a round building, or we could make something free-form. That way, it could be any shape we like.”
“Let’s try that. The bowl method sounds too easy.”
She showed him how to gather a bunch of sand, wet it down, then place handfuls on top of each other to build up a smaller mound inside the walls. With the trowel, she carved away at the outside, removing sand to reveal a shape underneath. The keep ended up being about twice as long as it was wide, with a round balcony on the short side where she was working. When she finished, she handed the trowel to him.
“You do the other side.” She picked up the wooden knife and started adding small details like windows and crenelations.
Randall moved slowly, trying his best to mirror what she’d done on his side of the keep. Patiently he cut away small bits at a time while trying to keep his lines straight. Desiree had made it look easy, pulling off chunks of sand each time she moved without damaging the structure underneath. He left several gouges in the side of the keep when he dug too deep and had to back out and try again. Eventually, he’d mangled it into a shape similar to hers.
When he finished and sat back to compare, she’d put several nice details around the balcony. Windows opened over long benches that had been carved out of the walls. An archway with a door led into the keep, and he could imagine a tiny princess walking out of it to survey her castle. He scanned the balcony he’d made, but the only thing he could see coming out of the gouge marks in the wall there was an ogre.
“Blech…” he said as he looked between the two.
Desiree sat back and examined his work. “That’s not bad.” She spoke over his attempted denial. “Really, it’s good for your first time. Carving out the bottom there so the balcony has an overhang isn’t easy. That’s the sort of detail that will collapse if not done properly.”
“It doesn’t look anywhere near as good as yours.”
“I’ve been doing this for years,” she said. “You can’t expect to be an expert in one day.”
Randall thought that over and asked, “Is that another one of your dad’s sayings?”
“No, I just came up with it. Pretty zen, right?”
“Uh…” He glanced around in several directions before peering up at the sky. “You know, we’re having some really nice weather today.”
Desiree’s jaw dropped open. “Hey! Don’t change the subject. That was really zen, what I said.”
Randall kept looking up at the sky. “If we’re lucky, it’ll stay this nice all week.”
She crossed her arms and looked down at the ground, pouting.
He chuckled. “It was a good saying. I guess I know now who to come to for advice, especially on how to get a tan or build a sandcastle.”
She beamed at his praise. “Absolutely, and speaking of your tan, you might want to lay out some more. With your back to the sun the whole time we were building that sandcastle, it’ll turn bright red while the rest of you is still pale.”
Together they gathered up her cups and tools before going back to the blanket. When they’d laid down again, he asked about the castles she’d built for previous competitions, and she described how she designed them.
#
Skills
Crafting ★ ★ ★ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆
Gathering ★ ★ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆
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Relationships
Desiree ★ ★ ★ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆
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