Randall didn’t know what to say. He stared at the paddlewheel sticking up out of the water, and Kate moved to the side to give him some space. After a minute, he cleared his throat to get her attention.

“Is that the only ferry that comes here?”

“Yes, I’m sorry,” said Kate. “This is a farming community, and we only get a few tourists. There’s not much need for people to come and go.”

One of the villagers must have overheard them because he added, “Even if there was another ferry, this is the only place on the island deep enough for large boats. The debris will have to be cleaned up and the storm barrier rebuilt before it’ll be safe to dock here again.”

Randall thanked the man for filling him in on the situation, and Kate shared a sympathetic look. She sat down on a crate next to him and peered out into the ocean.

“The last time I was here was also a sad occasion,” said Kate. “Although maybe it’s more accurate to call it bittersweet.”

Randall nodded although he was only halfway listening to her story.

“My uncle was retiring and moving to the mainland. For thirty years he worked on his farm, scrimping and saving whatever he could. My mom said she had no doubt he’d collected at least a million bits in his bank account. Can you even imagine that much money?”

Assuming bits were a type of currency, he compared it to his own situation. Randall earned over six figures a year as a software developer, so while a million was still a lot, he didn’t consider it unimaginable. Rather than say anything, he smiled so she would continue speaking.

“I reckon with that much money you could do almost anything. You wouldn’t have to work anymore, that’s for sure. You could go out and see the world.”

Something about what she said caused the synapses in Randall’s head to make a connection. Perhaps the game was trying to tell him how to get out of his predicament. The video trailer he’d watched had said something about saving money, marrying, retiring, and leaving the farm to his children. He’d have to do a lot of work to accomplish all the tasks laid out in the trailer, but perhaps he wouldn’t have to do every single one.

“So, what happened to your uncle’s farm after he left?”

“He wanted me to move in and take over, but I had so much to do at the grocery, it would have been impossible. I think he tried to sell the property, but nobody was interested. It really is a nice farm. It’s a shame we couldn’t find anyone to take over running it.”

Randall watched her with one eyebrow raised. After about five seconds, her eyes grew wide.

“Oh, I have the best idea! Why don’t you live there? It would give you something to do until the ferry gets fixed.”

Randall chuckled to himself but played along. “Are you sure your uncle would be okay with that? He won’t be mad that someone has moved in?”

Kate shook her head. “If anything would make him mad, it’s seeing the property go unused for all this time. Last time I was out that way, the weeds were taking over the fields, and some kids had broken one of the windows. As long as you keep up the maintenance, I think he’ll be lucky to have you there. It’s about a mile out of town. I can show you how to get there if you want.”

“Sure, let’s have a look.”

Kate led him to a road running west out of the harbor. A second group of people waited on the sidewalk outside of a small shop with a sign showing a red cross. As they drew closer, a woman separated from the crowd and walked towards them.

“Kate, are you all right?” asked the woman. “Nobody knew where you were.”

“Yeah, Mom, I’m fine,” said Kate. “I woke up early and walked down to the beach to see the sunrise.”

The woman pulled Kate into a hug before looking at Randall. “Who’s this?” she asked when they pulled apart.

“This is Randall,” said Kate. “He was on the ferry and fell into the water during the storm.”

“Oh, you poor thing,” said the woman. “You must have been absolutely soaked. Were you hurt?”

“Other than drinking a little sea water, I’m fine,” said Randall.

She looked Randall over before asking, “Were you able to retrieve your things from the ferry?”

“No such luck, I’m afraid.”

“Oh, dear. Kate, why don’t you look through that box of your father’s old clothes he keeps in the shed. I’m sure you could find something Randall could wear.”

Randall held his hands up to forestall the suggestion, but Kate answered before he could.

“Actually, I was going to take him out to Uncle Jack’s farm,” said Kate. “He’s going to need somewhere to stay since the ferry won’t be fixed anytime soon. I’m sure Uncle Jack didn’t take everything with him. Would that be all right?”

Kate’s mom frowned for a moment. “It’s awfully run down since he left. I don’t even know if it’s habitable at this point.”

“I’m not afraid to put the work in,” said Randall.

“And it’s not like anyone is using it right now,” added Kate.

“You have a point,” said Kate’s mom. “Be careful until you’ve had a chance to check the place out. And if it’s too run down, you could always rent one of the apartments over the Lazy Beagle Pub.”

Randall was too embarrassed to mention he had no money.

“That’s great, Mom,” said Kate. “Are the keys still in the stand by the front door?”

“Yes, last I saw them. They might have gotten pushed to the back of the drawer.”

Kate motioned for Randall to follow and headed down the road.

“Make sure to let your father know where you’re going,” her mother yelled as they walked away.

Kate kept up a running commentary of the buildings they passed while they walked. Randall’s head still hurt from earlier, so he had trouble keeping track of everything. To their left were a small library and a cafe with a dozen tables on a patio to the side. On their right was a pub with a sign of a beagle napping while large Zs rose up around his head. Past that stood a stone building she identified as the town hall, the largest structure he could see. A small plaza with benches and some short trees separated the town hall from the sidewalk. Alleyways between the buildings led to houses set back from the road.

She pulled him aside in front of the town hall and said, “We’re almost there, but this will be quicker if I go by myself. Dad will have a bunch of questions, so I’ll tell him I’ve got some errands to run for Mom. If he sees you though, it’ll be an hour before you’ll be able to get away.”

“I’ll wait here,” said Randall.

He watched as Kate turned down the alley on the far side of the town hall. The building across the alleyway was a shop, with a sign saying, “Grocery and General Store,” above and drawings of food, tools, and other supplies on the windows. Two men stood in front of the shop, next to a cart being pulled by a brown horse. One of them, who appeared to be in his late teens, loaded boxes onto the bed of the cart. An older man in a brown apron watched from the porch that covered the entire front of the store. They were caught up in a conversation and didn’t notice Kate as she jogged down the alley to the porch of a two-story house. She went through the open front door and came back out a minute later. As she approached the main road, the older man called her over.

“Kate, where have you been? I’m going to need your help reorganizing the shelves to make space for the spring crops when they start coming in. Before you know it, Liam here will be bringing us crates of strawberries.”

“I can’t wait, Dad,” said Kate with a smile. “But I need to run an errand out to Uncle Jack’s old farm.”

“Don’t take too long, or you’ll miss all the fun.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Kate glanced at Randall and tilted her head in the direction of the road they’d been following before heading down it. She nodded at a greeting from the young man standing on the bed of the cart before hurrying off. The grocer entered the shop, so with the coast clear, Randall made his way past the store. The road split, with a branch heading north into a line of trees and another continuing west, which was the way Kate had gone. The young man on the cart watched as Randall jogged after her but said nothing.

By the time he’d caught up, the road had narrowed and turned into a gravel path. The land was hilly with grassy plains on either side. In the distance, a small mountain jutted up into the sky with trees covering its side. Kate hummed to herself and turned with a smile when he caught up to her.

She said, “I used to love walking down this road to visit Uncle Jack when I was a kid. He was usually busy completing his chores on the farm, but he’d always show me what he was doing and pretend he couldn’t have finished the work without my help. Truth is I probably made it twice as hard for him to get the chores done, because he had to make sure I didn’t get into any trouble.”

“Sounds like a character,” said Randall.

“Oh, he was, but we all loved him. He had this rooster that used to watch for me coming down the road. It would chase me up into the hills…”

Kate kept up a string of stories as they walked until they reached another fork in the road. The gravel path they’d been following continued west, while another veered south. This new trail was overgrown, with grass reaching up to Randall’s waist except for two narrow ruts that had a little stone filling them.

#

New Quest: Clean up the Farm

Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

This farm has seen better days. In order to plant crops and begin your journey towards a mountain of bits, you’ll have to make the place livable again. Clear a path from the main road, repair the damage to the house, and prepare one of the fields so you can plant crops.

#

Randall was surprised when the message popped up in his field of vision, but he took a couple seconds to read over the text. Finally, he had some kind of direction for how he could progress in the game.

“I didn’t realize it had gotten this bad.” Kate peered down the overgrown lane, lowering the brim of her hat to shade her eyes. “I haven’t been out this way since Uncle Jack left for the mainland.”

Randall went in first, parting the grass as he followed the narrow rut, and Kate kept close behind him. After a couple hundred yards, the trail descended the side of a hill to a flat stone bridge that crossed over a stream. A ramshackle gate leaned precariously across the path, and one of its hinges snapped off when he tried to open it. A wooden fence made of pale, weathered beams enclosed the field in front of them.

Kate winced as he leaned the broken gate against the fence and walked onto the stone bridge. “Mom and I probably should have come out here a bit more to look after the place.”

“I’m guessing nobody has lived here for a while,” said Randall.

“It’s not very convenient unless you’re actually working on the farm.” Kate joined him on the bridge and stamped her feet several times. “Bridge still seems sturdy, so carts should be able to come out here at least. Once we see what you need to fix up the farmhouse, we can bring supplies from the general store.”

The path continued up the hill on the opposite side. Randall stopped at the top to survey the farm that spread out before him. The farmhouse was a single story with a stone basement underneath. It looked to be about forty feet wide, with windows showing rooms on either side of the door. The glass in their panes was cracked, and one had a good-sized hole where someone had thrown something through it.

Past the farmhouse, the land sloped gradually downward to a sandy beach. In the distance, the ocean could be seen as a strip of blue along the horizon. To their right, the ground became rocky and covered with trees as it rose up into a small mountain. Rickety wooden fences formed rectangles around several different fields that were covered by grass and weeds. The one closest to the forest had saplings growing in clusters. The only other landmark was a barn with faded red paint near the point in the center where all the fields came together.

Kate walked up a set of short steps onto the porch of the farmhouse and unlocked the front door. She coughed and said, “Ugh, it’s dusty in here, but it seems in better shape than the fences at least.”

Randall followed her inside and looked around. The hallway split the house through the middle, with a door leading out the back, opposite of where they now stood. A narrow set of stairs led up to a small attic. Boxes could be seen stacked there in the dim light. To the left was a sitting room, the furniture covered by bed sheets, while the right led into a dining room. Farther down the hall, another doorway led into a small kitchen on the side of the dining room. Opposite it was a bedroom, with a four-post bed, chest of drawers, and a standing wardrobe that was closed.

“Uncle Jack probably left some clothes in there if you want to change,” said Kate. “I’ll open some of the windows and air this place out.”

“Thanks,” Randall said as he walked into the bedroom and shut the door.

He checked the wardrobe first, which was empty except for an old coat. Judging from the numerous holes moths had eaten in it, the material was wool. The coat had probably been nice at one time, but now it would likely fall apart if he tried to put it on. He pulled drawers open in the dresser until he found one holding two sets of denim overalls and a pair of button-up flannel shirts.

“Looks like Uncle Jack didn’t plan on farming anymore, wherever he ended up,” Randall said as he laid a pair of overalls out on the bed.

He removed the clothes he was wearing, which had begun to stiffen from the salt in the sea water as they’d dried. It quickly became apparent Uncle Jack was a bit stouter of frame, because while the clothes fit fine around Randall’s chest and waist, the sleeves were too short and his ankles showed even after extending the straps on the overalls as far as they would go.

Kate giggled when he walked back into the hallway. “I forgot how short Uncle Jack was. By the time he left town, I’d surpassed him in height.”

At five feet, eleven inches, Randall stood about half a head taller than Kate. “These were all I could find, so they’ll have to do for now.”

“If you come to the store while Mom is there, she could adjust the pants so they fit more comfortably.”

“I’ll have to take you up on that.” As he’d moved around, the crotch of the trousers had begun to ride up, although he didn’t share that information with Kate. “To be honest though, I’m not sure how I’ll be able to pay you back. My pockets were empty by the time I swam to shore.”

“With nobody keeping up this place, it’s started to fall apart,” said Kate. “I’m sure my parents would be agreeable to you staying here in return for fixing the house up. We would supply you with whatever materials you needed to make it livable again.”

“All right, but if they don’t think that’s enough, then I can find other ways to pay them back.”

“I’ll let them know you offered. First though, we need to at least make sure you can stay here tonight.” Kate brandished a feather duster she’d found somewhere while he was changing. “I’ll clean up the bedroom. Why don’t you head down to the barn and see what’s there. You’ll need some boards to cover the broken windows. And I doubt my uncle took his tools when he left.”

“I’ll go check it out.”

Randall unlocked the back door and headed down to the barn. Unlike the house, it wasn’t locked, the door held closed by a simple wooden latch he could lift up. Layers of dust covered the walls and the smell of moldy hay drifted down from the loft above. He threw the door wide open to let some light in, and spotted a workbench with tools hanging from pegs on the wall above it. They had probably been nice quality when they were new, but the wear on them showed they’d been used extensively. The sickle he examined had chips along its blade, along with a couple rust spots, making him think perhaps water had gotten in through a crack in the shutters or hole in the roof.

He grabbed a hammer that had been left on the bench and searched down a line of dusty canning jars before he found one filled with nails. With his tools sorted out, he climbed the ladder to the loft and found a stack of old boards piled up against the rafters on one side. They’d bowed out a bit but should be good enough to cover some broken windows temporarily. He chose half a dozen that seemed to be the most serviceable and carried them outside one by one.

He walked a circuit around the house, noting that the broken windows were only on the front side, and relocated his stack of boards to the porch there. It took a few swings to get used to the heft of the hammer, but he got the hang of it soon enough and started nailing the boards down. By the time he finished covering the two windows, Kate walked out the front door and joined him in admiring his work.

“Not bad,” she said. “Have you done this before?”

“I have a house that I’ve learned some of the basics as far as maintenance and that sort of thing,” said Randall.

“I think you’re going to need those skills in the near future.” Kate glanced up at the sun and sighed. “I’m going to have to head back to town soon. I found some spare sheets in a box in the attic and made up the bed for you. I also dusted everything in there and the kitchen. There’s plenty of canned goods stored in the basement when you get hungry.”

“Thanks for everything,” said Randall. “I appreciate all your help.”

Kate smiled. “You’re welcome! I know you have a lot to do, but could I make one request?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Search the barn for Uncle Jack’s old scythe and clear all the grass that has grown up on the path here from the main road. That’ll make it easier for us to deliver some supplies tomorrow. I’m sure Mom will want to come out and see how the place is doing.”

“That’s the first thing I’ll do.”

“See you tomorrow then!” Kate walked off the porch and headed in the direction of the main road. She turned before starting down the hill and yelled, “Oh, and I forgot to tell you this place is named Sweetwater Farm.”

“Why’s it called that?” he yelled.

“There’s a well on the other side of the barn. Once you take your first taste from the spring there, you’ll know why!” Kate waved then disappeared on the other side of the hill.

#

The scythe, along with several other tools with longer handles, was propped up in the front corner of the barn. Randall examined its blade and found it was in rough shape like the other tools he’d examined earlier. After a little searching, he found a file and whet stone and got to work honing the blade. The file cut through the rust quickly, but sharpening the edge was another matter. The longest blade he’d ever had to work with in the past was a kitchen knife, which was straight and didn’t have a fat, curved handle coming out at nearly ninety degrees.

He knew the scythe wasn’t all that sharp because he kept fumbling the whet stone as he tried to move across its length. On the bright side, he couldn’t accidentally cut through one of his fingers on a blade so dull. In the end, he took a couple practice swings on a tall clump of grass growing by the barn and only met a little resistance before the stalks sheered away. It’d likely never be sharp enough to shave the hair from his arm, but it broke through the rigid stems of the plants well enough.

Propping the haft of the scythe on his shoulder, Randall returned to the stone bridge and got to work. He figured if the cart could come that far, he could carry any supplies the rest of the way to the house. It took a few practice swings for him to find the right way to hold the scythe so it cut through the clumps of grass near their bases. He left a couple inches sticking up, although it varied from swing to swing, so that the ground looked like it was covered by uneven stubble.

Randall groaned. “This is so much harder than a lawnmower.” He didn’t have a very big yard around his home, but his push mower was self-propelled. He could finish in less than a half hour, with minimal direction from him to maneuver around trees or the fence surrounding his patio.

After twenty minutes of swinging the scythe, he decided to take a break and sat on the low railing on one side of the bridge. He’d only progressed about twenty feet from the end of the bridge, and the long blades of grass he’d sheared off littered the ground everywhere. He’d need to clear them away, or they would hide the ruts filled with stone and make it difficult to bring a cart down the path. With a sigh, he headed back to the barn to grab a rake he’d noticed propped up against the wall near the scythe earlier.

The sun grew higher in the sky as he alternated between cutting grass with the scythe and raking the path clear again where it piled up. The work was tedious, and he would stop periodically to look over what he’d accomplished. Although it was slow going at first, he grew more comfortable with how the scythe moved and was able to speed up after a little practice.

He’d cleared about three quarters of the path when he had to stop, feeling as though he could barely lift the scythe, let alone swing it anymore. His throat was parched, so he trudged back to the barn and found the well Kate had told him about earlier.

A circle of stones jutted out of the ground with a roof of weatherbeaten wooden shingles over the opening. A stained circular cover, of what Randall expected was hardwood given its weight, sealed the mouth of the well. With some difficulty, he was able to slide the cover to the side, enough to see the pool of water below. He found an old wooden bucket in the barn, tied a rope to its handle, and dropped it into the well. The bucket bobbed for a moment before it submerged and filled with water. A small stream leaked through a hole in one side, but there was enough left by the time he pulled the bucket out to take a nice long drink.

“Wow,” he said at the first taste. “That’s really good! No wonder they call this place Sweetwater Farm.”

As he sat on the edge of the well and drank his fill from the bucket, his tired limbs felt less heavy. He splashed the leftover water on his face, and by the time he stood up again, the tiredness he’d experienced before had diminished significantly. He returned to the spot where he’d been clearing the path with renewed vigor and took up the scythe to attack the grass once again.

This second surge of energy didn’t last forever, but he was able to remove the last of the foliage blocking the path that led to the farm. By the time he finished, the sun was hanging low in the sky, and it was all he could do to carry the scythe and rake back to the barn and stumble into the farmhouse. His feet scuffed the floor as he walked down the hallway to the bedroom and collapsed onto the bed, not even bothering to take his clothes off. Within seconds, he was snoring loudly into a feather pillow.

#

Skills

Crafting ★ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Farming ★ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

#

* * *