The next day began with Randall making sure to water his crops first thing. He’d been excited to see if they’d grown any, but currently all he had to show for the previous day’s work was three rows of dirt. He didn’t know how long it would take before they started poking their green heads up.

He’d found an old metal watering can in the back of the barn the night before when he’d returned, wondering what Liam’s problem was. His annoyance at the strange warning had been exacerbated when he filled up the watering can and found it had several places on the bottom that had rusted through. Almost as much water leaked through the holes in the bottom as came out of the spout.

It took twice as long as it should have to water the garden, but in a way, he was fine with it since he didn’t know what to do afterwards anyway. He had no more seeds, so there wasn’t much point in clearing more of the field. No new quest had popped up to give him direction for what he should be doing next. So when he finished, he put the watering can back in the barn and decided to go for a walk around the property to clear his head.

The only thing he could think that might have caused Liam to be upset with him was when Kate had taken his hand to lead him back to the house for lunch. He’d assumed she was just concerned after hearing he hadn’t eaten the day before, and nothing untoward had happened. Perhaps Liam was just the jealous type, and Randall decided to avoid him whenever possible.

As he walked around, the details of the farm slowly drew his attention away from the events of the previous day. He followed the line of fencing in the direction of the mountain rising up to the west. Another gate led into what he assumed to be a pasture. The remains of several small wooden structures pointed to this being an area where animals had been kept. The bottom had rotted out of a watering trough, while next to it, an octagonal structure with rails on the side held a couple rotting bales of hay. Farther up the fence, where the ground grew rocky, stood a squat chicken coop that looked to still be in decent condition, although the paint had faded in the sun and was starting to flake away.

Clusters of small trees grew on the far side of the pasture. Beyond the fence, the forest took over, rising up the side of the mountain. The canopy was dense enough that no grass or bushes grew underneath, and the shadows inside made it hard to see beyond fifty feet or so. He walked the rest of the way around the pasture until he found a second gate going out the far side. He was surprised to find an overgrown path leading up into the trees, and he thought for a moment of checking out where it went but thought better of going off on his own. He wasn’t familiar with the area, so he decided to put it off until he could pack some water and snacks to take with him in case he got lost.

Returning to the barn, he set off southeast this time, towards the shimmering blue water on the horizon. The ground became sandy, and the grass grew sparser until he found himself on a beach like the one he’d washed up on when he first arrived on Haven. To his left, the stream that marked the north side of the farm flowed out into a small bay. The beach looped around to the east before heading south again until it was parallel to where he now stood. It also continued to the west, one arm of the mountain coming down as if to meet it just over the horizon.

He had plenty of ground to work with, and several different potential avenues of interest to pursue. He could gather all the wood he needed from the forest to the west, and who knew what else he might find on the mountain there.

All that could wait for a bit though. With no pressing things to do on the farm at the moment, he decided to head into town. Meredith had suggested he go to the town hall, and he thought it might be a good idea to learn a little about the area before he made any more plans.

#

The road was empty as Randall walked into town. He’d half expected to see Kate or one of her parents outside the general store, but there was nobody in sight. The town hall was just past the store, so he headed up the stairs inside.

The first thing he noticed was a giant map of Haven in the foyer. He examined it, getting his first clear picture of the town and the island around it. The whole thing looked kind of like a starfish with six stubby legs. Three pointed south from the main body of land, and judging from the location of the harbor, he’d crawled up onto the beach on the middle one. Two smaller arms went off to the northeast, while the final one was to the northwest.

The northern side of the island was dominated by two large mountains, with a lake and river going around them to the south. The river flowed southeast into the harbor. The image of a lumber mill was drawn below the lake, with the buildings he’d seen along the main road through town being south of that. The lighthouse and harbor were marked on the inner curve of a small bay. The eastern side of the island had pictures of a couple other buildings, although he wasn’t quite sure what they represented. They appeared to be workshops of some kind. The southeastern corner had a rack with fish hanging off of it.

The southwestern spur was home to two farms with another mountain in between. Those would be Sweetwater Farm and the farm where Liam lived. The northwestern spur had pictures of several barnyard animals, including horses, cows, and chickens. They were spread out between the northern mountains and the western coast. There was no scale for how big the island was, but from what he’d seen so far, he guessed it was between three and four miles across.

Past the foyer of the town hall, doors opened to the right and left from a hallway that ran through the center of the building. A plaque next to the door on the right read, “Mayor’s Office,” and that was who Meredith had told him was setting up accounts for the residents. He passed inside to find a reception area with several chairs placed against the wall where people could sit while they waited.

Behind a wooden desk sat a young woman with blond hair that went down past her shoulders. She wore a gray pantsuit with a white blouse that had ruffles on the front where it wasn’t covered by her jacket. When she looked up, her eyes were light blue behind a pair of glasses with brown frames.

“Hello,” she said with a smile. “Welcome to the mayor’s office. Can I help you?”

“Meredith said I should come here to ask about opening an account to keep track of the bits I earn,” said Randall.

“Oh! You must be the one who was stranded by the ferry.”

“Yeah, I guess that’s me. My name is Randall.”

“I’m Jessica, assistant to the mayor.” She stood and motioned for him to follow her. She walked across the hall, unlocking the door opposite with a key she picked up from her desk. “Account records are in here. I’ll get everything squared away for you.”

Randall followed her into a cluttered office with filing cabinets lined up against the far wall. Light shone in through windows on the sides looking out over the main road and the alleyway leading back to the house Kate had visited the day before. Jessica opened one of the drawers and searched around before pulling out a couple papers.

She led him to a desk with chairs on either side and sat down. Randall took the chair opposite her as she wrote on a few lines at the top of the form. She slid the papers over to him.

“Could you please fill out the missing details for me?” she asked.

“Sure.”

Randall turned the form around and glanced over what was written there. He filled in his full name, and for the address, he merely wrote Sweetwater Farm. Below that was an area to list the names of any other people who could use his account, which he left blank. He signed at the bottom and flipped to the second sheet. It was a slip for depositing money into the account. Since he had nothing to his name, he stacked the papers again and handed them back.

“Randall Thompson,” Jessica read from the papers. “What a nice name! I see you’re living on that old farm outside town. Oh, that reminds me.”

Jessica stood up and returned to the filing cabinets, but instead of opening one of the drawers, she grabbed a ceramic pot that had been on top of one next to the windows. She looked inside and her shoulders slouched.

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“Only three days into spring, and I’ve already killed it,” she said.

When she didn’t elaborate, he asked, “Killed what, exactly?”

She brought the pot over and set it on the desk. A couple small thin leaves poked up out of the dirt. They’d withered and turned brown before they’d reached even an inch high.

“The daffodil I was trying to grow.” Jessica threw her hands up in the air. “I thought how nice it would be to have some pretty flowers to brighten up the place. The mayor said if I wanted to see something beautiful, I could always gaze at the map by the front door. He stops to look at it every morning when he arrives, but I think that’s mostly because he spent so much of the town budget on the commission to have it drawn.”

Jessica stopped and covered her mouth. “Please don’t tell him I said that.”

“Don’t worry,” said Randall. “My lips are sealed.”

She flipped to the other page and said, “You didn’t fill out the deposit slip. If there’s nothing in the account, you won’t be able to pay for any goods or services you purchase from the other residents of Haven.”

Randall grimaced. “I’m afraid I don’t have any bits to deposit.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. You must have lost all your things when the ferry sank.” She pulled open a drawer on her side of the desk and rummaged around inside for a moment. She pulled out a small cardboard box and handed it to him.

“What’s this?” asked Randall.

“Daffodil bulbs. I only used a couple, so there’s plenty left. Hopefully you’ll have better luck than me, and you can use the flowers you grow to enter the competition at the spring flower festival.”

“I’m sorry,” Randall said as he tried to give them back. “I can’t pay for them.”

Jessica pulled her hands away and refused to take the bulbs from him. “How about a trade? Once they’re grown, you bring me a few I can display in the office to brighten up the place. I get tired with nothing to look at but desks and filing cabinets. But save the nicest looking ones for your submission to the contest. There will be several awards given out, including a grand prize of 500 bits.”

“A trade then.” Randall slid the box with the bulbs into the front pocket of his overalls. “I’ll bring them over as soon as they bloom.”

“That’d be great.” Jessica stood and held the door as they walked out. “I’m sure the store next door would be more than happy to take any extras you have after the competition as well.”

“I already met Meredith and Kate,” said Randall. “They set me up with some vegetables to grow on the farm.”

“That’s great! We won’t be getting supplies from the mainland anytime soon, so I’m glad to hear we’ve got another farm up and running. Is there anything else I can do for you today?”

Randall shook his head. “Thanks for your help.”

“We’re open until 4 o’clock each day, so if there’s anything you need, please drop by.” She gave a slight nod of her head then walked back into the mayor’s office.

Originally, Randall had intended on looking around the town to see what other services were available, but he felt awkward after having to admit he didn’t have any money. Rather than visit the businesses he’d seen yesterday, he decided to return to the farm. He’d feel a lot better if he had some bits to spend the next time he visited town.

#

When he got back to Sweetwater Farm, the trampled grass between the bridge and farmhouse reminded him that he still had a lot of work to do. He retrieved the scythe from the barn and set to work clearing the hill in front of the house.

The work was slow, as again he had to take breaks to gather up the loose grass he’d cut and move it out of the way. He made a large pile near the barn, figuring he could use it for composting. He remembered the old hay that was stored in the top of the barn and brought it down to add to the pile. By midafternoon, he’d extended the path from the bridge all the way to the farmhouse and cleared a wide area around it and the barn so he wouldn’t have to shove through high grass whenever he walked across the property. The compost pile was almost taller than he was, but he assumed it would shrink as the vegetation inside lost most of its water.

Working at the front of the property, he was reminded of the gate he’d broken the first time he came out to the farm. It still leaned against the fence where he’d left it. The boards he’d found in the barn were too dry-rotted to make a good gate, but he had several saplings of various sizes he’d cut down while clearing the garden. He tested bending a couple and found them to be supple enough to form into a square by laying them at ninety degree angles and wrapping the thin portions at the top around the bottom of their neighbor. He set several layers overlapping each other and lashed everything together with some twine he found near the nails.

The new gate wasn’t exactly pretty, as he’d stripped all the leaves in order to make it easier to work with. He found some old hinges, which moved decently after he oiled them a bit, and attached those to one side. He carried the gate to the bridge and set to work removing what was left of the old gate. Once he’d attached the new one, he stepped back to examine what he’d done. He’d be the first to admit it wasn’t anything special, but the young saplings looked vibrant and healthy next to the bleached wood of the fence. It also felt good to have something of his own making to greet him whenever he got back to the farm.

His stomach growled, and he pressed his hand against his overalls as fatigue spread through him. He’d done a lot since coming back after his short trip to town, and he was feeling drained. The shape of the box in his overalls’ pocket reminded him that he still had the flowers to plant.

“First something to eat,” said Randall as he turned towards the farmhouse. “Then I can do something with the daffodil seeds Jessica gave me.”

He’d not used the stove yet and discovered it was heated by burning wood. A small rack in the corner of the kitchen held firewood, either remnants of what had been used by the previous tenant or carried there by Meredith when she’d made the soup. He transferred some into the stove and lit it with a box of matches that had been left on the counter. He searched through the cabinets until he found a small pan and used a large spoon to dish some of the leftover soup into it.

While he waited for the fire to catch and warm up the stove, he headed up to the attic. He’d not looked through the items stored there when he’d fixed the roof, but he thought he remembered seeing some ceramics. He found pots and planters stacked next to the window he’d used to get on the roof. A few of them were cracked, but he took several of the undamaged ones downstairs to the front porch and laid them out.

By the time he went back to the kitchen, flames had spread across the logs he’d placed inside the stove. He added another and closed the compartment. Hot air floated up through a grate set into the surface of the stove. He placed the pan there and waited while the soup heated, afraid if he left to do something else that it would burn.

Even without bread and cheese to go with it, the soup was delicious, and he ate every bit of what he’d reheated. The fatigue he’d felt earlier dissipated while he ate, until he felt like he could clear a whole other field with his renewed energy. Not that he wanted to. He’d had enough of clearing grass with the scythe for one day.

Instead, he grabbed a shovel and the wheelbarrow and dug up some of the topsoil from the edge of the garden. Once he had enough, he broke down the clumps of dirt until it was fine enough to flow through his fingers. He wheeled the potting soil he’d made around to the porch where the planters were waiting. He filled them halfway before taking out the box Jessica had given him.

Inside were about two dozen oblong bulbs. He spread them out between the different ceramic pots, making sure to leave some space between them to grow. He didn’t know how much room flowers needed, so he varied the spacing, placing only a couple in some pots and sprinkling them quite liberally in others. He used all the seeds before covering them with what was left of the soil he’d prepared.

He returned the wheelbarrow to the barn and filled his watering can at the well. It leaked as he walked back to the porch, losing almost a quarter of its water before he even reached the flower pots.

“I’m going to have to get a new one of these,” he said as he tried not to spill too much. He ended up having to make a second trip to be sure all the bulbs got enough water. He set the watering can down and crossed his arms as he looked over the damp soil in the pots. “I guess now we wait.”

* * *