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sunspray-peak · 2 years ago

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Ch. 20: The Luau

THURSDAY - SUMMER 11

“Oh, fucking hell.”

Achilles never checked his mail. It was a bad habit of his that had developed during his time at BRLO (he had to see enough advertisements at work, thank you very much) and that he had since never bothered to break. Coupons and flyers and grocery store catalogues—he needed none of it. As for letters—well who wrote letters these days, anyway? If someone really needed him badly enough, they’d call.

That being said, a small package from his cousin had been overdue for delivery, and thinking that perhaps it had been placed in his mailbox rather than on his doorstep, he had finally opened the damn thing, digging around countless, dusty circulars and newsletters to try to locate Camille’s swoopy handwriting. Alas, there was nothing to be found. Dammit.

With a grunt, he squatted to pick up the scattered contents of the mailbox from the grass to later dump into the recycling bin when a pale green envelope of thick, heavy paper caught his eye.

A wedding invitation? He ran through all his old friends—he didn’t think any of them even knew he had moved. A secret admirer? Fat chance. Intrigued, he ripped it open to read:

Dear Ashee Ache Achilles,

Tomorrow, Summer 11, we’re all gathering at the beach for the annual Pelican Town Luau.

The highlight of the event is the communal potluck. Make sure you bring something good to contribute! The governor himself is attending the event, so make sure you’re on your best behavior. Come to the beach sometime between 9AM and 2PM.

-Mayor Lewis

Ah shit. Talk about disappointments. This one was twofold—one, the letter was from Mayor Lewis, gross. And two, what in the world was he going to bring to a potluck that started in an hour?

“Fucking hell,” Achilles muttered again, stomping back inside his farmhouse to his fridge, despite knowing full well that when he opened it, he’d bear witness to about six eggs, an old leek, a hunk of cheese, and some raspberries Maru had shown him grew naturally on some of the Valley’s native vines.

Maybe he could grab something from Pierre’s…

But when he arrived at the general store, there was no one to be found behind the woefully locked door. “Closed for Festival” said the neatly lettered sign. Damn. He had hoped Abigail would’ve at least been present to save him from embarrassment. He supposed the saloon would be similarly closed for the holiday…

He could show up empty handed. Oh, but it’d be rude to arrive without a contribution—he’d already messed up once with the Mullners during the Egg Festival dinner, when he’d left the bottle of wine behind. Absolutely humiliating, the height of poor taste and bad manners…

Perhaps he wouldn’t show up at all. Hide in his farmhouse and pretend to be sick… or perhaps he’d leave town, for knowing Lewis, sickness wouldn’t stop the mayor from rapping on his door and accusing him of declaring “war on the pillars of the community” or what not…

Oh, but he had been looking forward to the festival. Good food, decent people, and, most importantly, something to do…

Just then, Achilles heard the boisterous laughs of none other than Abigail herself skipping down the northward path with Sebastian and Sam naturally in tow.

“Hello hello!” she called upon seeing him. “Excited for the luau, Achilles?”

“Ah…”

“Whatcha bringing to the pot luck?” Sam asked. Between the three of them, they carried two large dishes covered in tin foil.

“Forgot, huh?” It was Sebastian, naturally, who was the first to pick up on Achilles’ empty hands. “No problem. We’ll just say you helped us with these.”

“Easy as pie!” Abigail added.

But Achilles shook his head. “Nah, it’s fine. Doesn’t seem quite right to take credit for something I didn’t actually do.”

“Shit, no one will know,” Sebastian said with a shrug. “But up to you.”

Achilles turned to Abigail. “Say, you wouldn’t be able to let me pop into the general store and grab a few things…”

“Ooooo…” Abigail’s face scrunched as she cracked her knuckles and glanced through the glass at the small pyramid of on-sale bell peppers. “I’m sorry, I’m afraid I don’t have the key on me and dad’s already down at the beach.”

“Ah. No worries…”

“Are you sure you don’t want to just slap your name on our stuff? It’s really no big deal.”

“Thanks, Sam, but it’s all right. I’ll figure something out.”

“Suit yourself, man. We’ll see you down there!”

They traipsed off—Abigail with a slight limp, Achilles briefly noticed before turning his attention back to the problem at hand. Perhaps he could pick a bunch of raspberries and class them up in one of his nice fruit bowls. Yeah, that could totally work, right…?

You sad, dumb bastard…

“Hello, dear!”

Evelyn was coming out of Dusty’s pen, a large jug of water in her hands. Dusty himself was on her heels, ready to follow her back to the house. Too hot to be outside! the slow, low wag of his tail seemed to say.

“Let me get that for you,” Achilles said, hurrying over and taking the jug.

“Oh, that’s very kind of you!”

They made their way over to 1 River Road.

“Are you excited for the luau, dear?”

“Ah… oh yes! Looking forward to it…” He opened the front door for her and Dusty first, taking off his shoes in the foyer before setting the jug in the kitchen.

“You just missed Alex, he and Haley usually make something together for Luau Day.” She must’ve caught him peaking his head around the space. “You know, dear, George and I would actually love some help with our own dishes. I’m just finishing up the poppyseed muffins, but if you happen to have some time, I would be incredibly grateful if you could peel these potatoes and chop those veggies over there. I know George would very much appreciate it, he hates cutting up vegetables.”

In response to his name being dropped, George croaked an aggressive “What?” from the living room.

“Morning George!” Achilles called.

“I can’t talk right now, young man. My favorite program is on.”

Achilles, who strongly suspected Evelyn had overheard his conversation with the trio and was simply rescuing him from Lewis’ wrath, nevertheless wasn’t one to let an opportunity like this slide when it had been dropped so deftly into his lap. Even if he hated cutting vegetables.

“Happy to help, I should be thanking you.”

“Oh, nonsense, nonsense…”

He joined her at the counter and began to peel the potatoes for the potato salad. With George’s scornful retorts safely out of the way, this seemed as good a time as any for the pursuit of Project #2.

“Actually, Evelyn, this is perfect timing all around—I was hoping to ask you about the junimos. The forest spirits?”

“Oh dear. Have you been spending more time with the Wizard?” Evelyn was pouring her batter into four separate tins. Those thin arms must’ve been packed with stringy muscle, the bowl was huge.

“Hmm…” Achilles thought back to his most recent visit to the tower. “Not particularly. I’ve just been… seeing them around…”

“Oh! Have you now?” She looked up from her pouring, her widened blue eyes beaming. “How nice that must be for you!”

“Yes, well, perhaps. They don’t… do much. I actually didn’t know what they were at first, but Alex suggested I ask you about them. He said you had been able to see them before?”

“Oh yes. When I was your age, or perhaps a bit younger, the Valley was a different place. There was a… glow to it. A brightness to it all. Stardew was filled with those little forest spirits back then— junimos, you called them? Charming little things, I remember them well.” She smiled, thinking back to a simpler time. “Now, I always said, if I ran into one, I knew it was going to be a lucky day!

“In fact, I saw two of them—a pink one and a green one—hopping through Cindersap the morning of my first ever date with George. He could never see them, but what a wonderful day that turned out to be!” She sighed, taking a minute to savor the memory before somberly shaking her head. “But as I grew older, they became scarcer and scarcer, and I’m afraid to say, dear, I haven’t seen them in quite a long time.”

Evelyn paused to put the now-filled tins into the oven. “But if you’re seeing them, they must be allowing you to! What a special blessing—perhaps they will bring you good luck, too!”

With the muffins now in the oven, she reached for the celery and began to swiftly dice the stalks, her smooth speed all but confirming she never needed Achilles’ help with the dishes. “Now you keep an eye out for the bad spirits, though, dear. I’ve never seen them, but I’d hear the rumors.

“Sometimes, when I was a younger girl, I’d feel a bad smell in the air up by the mountain, something really rotten I knew to avoid. Now not to say you’ll feel them, too—I pray you never do, dear! But I do feel it my duty to warn you; if you’re seeing the forest spirits, I feel it’s best to be prepared for the unsavory sort as well.”

At her words, a chill began to creep up Achilles’ spine as he remembered the purple smoke that had kept him captive in the Wizard’s tower—was it that same whisper he was suddenly hearing right now? He shook his head, and the voices faded to silence. Just your imagination…

“But enough of that—I believe such things, good and bad, can be spoken into existence. Now pass those potatoes, please, dear!”

*****

“Stealing my grandparents, are you?”

Achilles had arrived at the beach with Evelyn and George carrying a giant bowl of potato salad while George balanced 47 muffins in his lap (Achilles had eaten one—with Evelyn’s encouragement—before they left. It had ruined muffins for him, never would any baked good from Pierre’s, from even Hyacinthia’s award-winning bakeries, ever be able to match).

“What can I say, they just like me more,” Achilles ribbed, placing the potato salad next to the ginormous fruit salad Alex and Haley had brought. “Nah, your grandma just took pity on me…”

As with the previous festivals, the beach was fully decked out in decor. Totem poles ten feet tall had been dug into the sand while red and yellow flag pennants fluttered alongside string lights in the wind from above. Mats of giant leaves served as the dance floor—Robin and Demetrius were already jiving to a tropical song blasting from the speakers.

Four long tables clothed in gold and green had been set up in a rectangular formation on the beach, each straining under the weight of all the dishes that had been—and were continuing to be—arranged. In the center of them all was the largest pot Achilles had ever seen—so large, a ladder had been erected next to it for folks to add ingredients—and which was emitting a cacophony of scents.

Alex followed his gaze. “That’s Stardew’s famous Luau Soup for you… four years ago everyone got super sick after drinking it, and I’ve never trusted it since. Not really sure why it’s still a thing… what’d you bring for it?” Right now, Penny was perched on the ladder preparing to drop something in from a cloth bag.

“Shit, I was supposed to bring something for the soup, too?”

“You didn’t bring something for the soup?”

It wasn’t Alex, but—of course—a nearby Lewis who had just happened to overhear Achilles’ question. Before either boy could get a word in edgewise, the Mayor stalked over, pulling on his mustache.

“This-is-the-most-important-dish-at-the-luau-how-could-you-forget?”

Achilles straightened himself to his full 5’11” and looked Mayor Lewis squarely in the eye.

“Bringing something for a soup wasn’t mentioned in the letter.”

To be fair, him even reading the letter had been a complete accident, but Lewis didn’t need to know that.

Unfortunately, the mayor was not one to be intimidated. He gave his moustache another yank before sticking his wrinkly finger straight into Achilles’ chest and declaring, “The tasting isn’t until noon—you’ve got two hours to get something.”

Lewis’ fingernail was digging right through the linen of his button down, and Achilles had to force himself to take a breath before answering. Oh fuck you—

“Have you got a checklist, Lewis?” There was venom in Achilles’ voice now that he wasn’t bothering to disguise. “Just lurking about with a clipboard, making sure every member of this community contributes?”

The mayor huffed and puffed before lowering his voice to a dangerously cold tone. “I’m looking out for you, Achilles. I want to introduce you to the governor. We need a good impression from you.”

“And we’re going to get that from me dropping something into a giant ass pot? Does he have a checklist then?”

“Language!” Lewis jabbed his finger again for stalking off. “Two hours!”

“Goddammit… what’d you bring?” He looked at Alex, who had been silently bearing witness to the spat.

“Uh… some tomatoes.”

“I am not making the trek back to my farm for this…”

Instead, similar to Lewis, he stalked away from Alex and made the exceedingly short walk to Elliott’s beachside cabin, giving the door a knock or two before letting himself inside.

“Elliott, my dear, dear friend… Oh shit.”

“Ah, Achilles!” Elliott, startled, jumped up from his kitchen table where he had been sitting next to Leah, the two apparently deep in conversation.

“I’m so sorry to interrupt—”

“No, not a problem, my friend,” said Elliott, clasping his hand. “Please, how may I be of service?”

Achilles shot Leah a quick glance before turning back to Elliott.

“I didn’t realize I was supposed to bring something for this… soup… Mayor Lewis is watching me, don’t ask me why, I don’t know, but I’m pretty sure he’s getting ready to prepare my eviction notice as we speak… what do people normally put in this thing?”

“Ah! The soup. A rather ghastly tradition, if I may so—in fact, my very first year here, everyone had a terribly rotten time. Sick stomachs all around! Dear Dr. Harvey had quite a field day… But any ingredient you can think of, my friend! Part of the, allure, for lack of a better word I suppose, is the mystery surrounding this soup. Everyone brings an item, and then the governor takes a sip before we distribute to the crowds.”

“That sounds like a terrible idea.”

“I am glad to hear we are of one mind. I refuse to partake—and must bear the mayor’s wrath every year—but dear Leah over here has brought some raspberries.”

“So does that mean I can’t bring raspberries?”

Leah rolled her eyes and joined the two by the door. She opened the Tupperware she had been holding and dumped several berries into his hands. “You can bring literally anything Achilles, nobody gives a fuck. The tourists drink it all up.”

“You sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“OK—thank you. Again, so sorry to disturb,” Achilles said, ending his sentence with a strange jerky little bow before scurrying out.

He made sure to give the mayor a big show on his way back to the pot, staring unblinkingly at Lewis as he climbed the ladder at an exaggerated snail’s pace and hurled the berries with all his might into the soup.

Lewis, to his credit, also refused to break eye contact throughout this little performance of Achilles’, and in fact proceeded to beckon aggressively once he had made his way down from the ladder.

But Achilles chose to respond with a cheery wave and teeth-baring smile, before turning and heading back towards the grills instead, where Alex, a brown Stardrop Saloon apron tied haphazardly around his waist, and Maru were chopping up burger and hot dog toppings ahead of what would likely be the lunch rush in an hour or so.

“Burger duty?” Achilles asked, conveniently placing himself so that he’d be in Alex’s line of sight and out of Lewis’.

“Every year, baby!” Alex looked up from his methodically diced onions. The lime green of his Tunnelers cap seemed to brighten his eyes just a tinge, adding just yet another level of mischief to their usual gleam. “You hungry? The line gets pretty crazy once all the tourists start arriving around noon.”

“Nah, I’m good.”

“You sure? I’ve got other things, too if you don’t want a burger or a hot dog right now…” Alex bent down to dig through the shelves that had been erected for the event. He popped his head back up, lifting the cap to run a hand messily through his hair. Achilles couldn’t help but squirm slightly in his sneakers. Perhaps it was the heat… and the sand…

“Want an egg?”

“Well, I can never say no to an egg.” Achilles looked briefly away from Alex, who had cocked his head like an overeager beagle in response. “Over easy?”

“One over easy egg, coming right up!”

With one hand, Alex deftly cracked the egg onto the grill, his arms flexing ever so slightly with the movement. It was all too much. Achilles was transfixed, eyes continuing to follow the veins in Alex’s hands as they tossed the shells into a nearby bucket, and it took Penny’s nudge to break the spell.

“Hmm?”

“You’re drooling, Achilles.”

“Like hell I am,” Achilles grumbled, but he surreptitiously wiped his mouth just in case. “In my defense, I’ve had very little to eat today.”

“Hey, same—you know, I always like to starve myself the day before so I can leave room for ALL THIS DELICIOUS FOOD.” With a howl, Alex flipped the egg a foot into the air, letting it hit the grill with a bit of a splat.

“That’s not healthy at all,” Maru said drily, looking up from the tomatoes she was cutting with significantly less gusto.

*****

He would’ve stayed and chatted with Alex and the troublemaking trio for the rest of the luau if he could (Maru had traded places with Sam after being accosted by her father over a matter of “scientific importance” and had left for the boardwalk), but since he was also determined to stay away from Lewis, he had been forced to change up his plans.

Luckily, it was Elliott who gave him his preemptive escape—his friend had sidled over with Leah and invited him to walk with them just as Lewis had begun to make his way over to the grills.

“I’ll save you a burger!” Alex called as the three left, Achilles half-pushing Elliott to walk faster ahead as Lewis began to also increase his walking speed.

“Oh dear! I didn’t mean to pull you away from young Alex—” Misinterpreting Achilles’ heightened urgency, Elliott began to turn back.

“No worries, no worries, just go.” Achilles gave Elliott another, less gentle shove, tripping slightly over the back of Leah’s boots. At 6’5”, Elliott was pretty much a lightning rod for Lewis’ searching gaze.

The tourists had begun to arrive in droves, however, which made it much easier to disappear into a crowd. Folks were piling their plates sky high. Damn, not even an entry fee? Achilles thought to himself, given that most tourists didn’t seem to be contributing anything to the potluck, though Achilles noticed the soup remained untasted and untouched for now.

Thanks to Alex’s swim lessons, Achilles had no hesitations now racing towards the water. Together, they made their way to the boardwalk, where a separate little crowd had formed. Rather shamelessly pushing his way through to the front, Achilles found Maru surrounded by a multitude of different colored bottles and sheets of paper and pens which she was passing out to the tourists.

Catching Achilles eye, she waved him, Elliott, and Leah over.

“Helping out the ye olde parental figure with his latest science experiment—you know, the usual,” Maru began with a good natured roll of her eyes. “He’s conducting an experiment on the currents of the Gem Sea.”

She held up one of the bottles—a purple one, semi opaque—and gave it a little tap. “Going to be throwing these into the sea later today. Hopefully in the upcoming months we’ll see when and where they eventually turn up—they’re actually made out of that polycarbonate I told you about last season, Achilles.”

“Oh! Nice, did you get the patent?” He took the offered bottle and gave it his own experimental tap before handing it to Leah who conducted a much closer examination.

Maru beamed. “I did! The material is nontoxic and won’t shatter, so it should be safer for wildlife than a typical glass bottle, and there’s not anything that’ll leach into the water.”

Elliott tutted in hearty approval. “Absolutely fantastic—what a wonder you are, Miss Maru!”

A small blush appeared on Maru’s cheeks. Achilles couldn’t help but look around to make sure Demetrius wasn’t anywhere nearby. The last thing they needed was the man falsely believing some 33 year old, unemployed beach bum in a ratty red blazer was flirting with his precious daughter.

Maru coughed. “Well, anyway—I just thought I’d make the experiment a little more fun and everything with the luau, if you three are interested in participating?”

They nodded, and she eagerly handed each of them two sheets of paper along with a pen.

“The smaller card is the science stuff—most of it’s filled out already, but if you want to see what and how we’re recording, it’s all there. And then the second sheet is whatever you want it to be! You can write a letter, draw a picture, maybe even leave a phone number—any kind of message in a bottle you want to leave for whoever eventually, well… finds your bottle. Thought maybe it’d be fun, turn it into a pen pal sort of thing!” She shrugged, seemingly suddenly a little embarrassed by her enthusiasm. “Or, I don’t know, maybe that’s boring… but the folks so far seem to find it fun… anyway, just come back and give them to me when you’re done!”

After assuring her it was a good idea, the three swiftly made their way back through the crowd to a rare empty space by the edge of the boardwalk. Leah, unsatisfied with the two inch wooden strip railing, instead had Elliott turn around and used his broad back as an easel for whatever picture she was inevitably choosing to draw.

The man instantly turned scarlet, though of course from her new vantage point, Leah couldn’t see. Achilles on the other hand, gave him a squirrelly nod before leaving Elliott to write, also inevitably, what was likely to be an incredibly long winded letter.

Achilles, however, wasn’t quite sure what he’d do. What were messages in bottles typically used for? Love letters? That was a thing, right? He thought of Alex at the grill, arms bare from under his white UMF tank top, that baseball cap jauntily tilted just a few degrees to the side, laughing at even the most awful of Achilles’ jokes…

There were other options, too, of course. He had forgotten the most obvious reason behind messages in bottles—distress signals. SOS. Cries for help and the like…

At that thought, he was, with a flip of his stomach, reminded of a intoxicated night on a boardwalk and a beach and a sea. He obviously hadn’t written a note then—nobody, including himself, had thought that night was going to end the way that it did, but note or no note, it had most definitely been a night of distress.

His pen was raised half a centimeter above the page. Perhaps it’d be cathartic to finally put those thoughts—the anxiety, the hopelessness, the frustration, all still stewing inside him—to page.

Eva did always recommend journaling, didn’t she?

His old therapist—surely it wouldn’t hurt to revisit some old exercises.

But he was doing better now, right? Sure, relapses were a thing, but as a whole, Summer had so far been… nice. At least, compared to the end of Spring. Swim lessons and museum visits and other small tasks had kept him… somewhat busy. Why dwell on the past like that when there were brighter, if more mindless and silly, thoughts to share with the fish? Thinking back to what Evelyn had only said this morning about the spirits—why risk speaking anything distressing into existence? Even at the thought of it all, he felt a stir in the whispering voice at the back of his mind.

Oh, but it wouldn’t hurt to get it all out, right? Even if he was past it. Which he definitely was. Right?

He spent another five minutes wrestling between the two ideas. Why did it even matter which he chose, who the hell was ever even going to read this? A quick glance to his right notified him that Elliott (whose handwriting was neatly cramped and probably half the size of Achilles’) had already fill out the whole front side—geeze. Fine, if he was going to be like that—not that it was a competition… Achilles made his decision, put his pen to the page, and began to write.

*****

He had only just turned the assigned materials to “Miss Maru” when Lewis, his face an intriguing shade of plum Achilles had never seen in a person, finally caught up to him. Gripping his shoulder with what must have been the combined might of all the mayors before him, Lewis dragged him away from a bewildered Elliott, Leah, and Maru. Off the boardwalk they went, across the sand, and back towards the festival entrance where a large, equally mustachioed man stood bedecked in a vibrant shade of purple not unlike the color of Abigail’s hair.

“Governor.” Lewis cleared his throat and gave Achilles a slightly pointed smack on the shoulder, not that Achilles’ perfect posture needed the encouragement. “I would like to introduce you to young Achilles Robinson, our newest resident here Stardew Valley. He recently moved into old Dan Robinson’s farm—his father is, of course, Perry Robinson, I’m sure you remember him, and his mother Apolline Desrosiers. We are delighted to have him join our wonderful community here in Stardew!”

Ah… Hoping to look good in front of the Governor, huh Mr. Mayor?

“Nice to meet you, sir,” Achilles said taking the Governor’s pudgy hand. It may have been sweaty, but the Governor’s eyes were kind—much kinder than Lewis’ beady little things at any rate.

“Ah, young Achilles! I knew your father and grandfather well, he was a good farmer and an even better man, I was sorry to hear of his loss. I hope you’ll be following in his footsteps? This county could use some more locally grown produce!”

Achilles shook his head somberly, biting down on his lip to prevent the smile threatening to break through when he caught site of Lewis’ impressive nostril flair. “I’m afraid I’m not much of a farmer—”

“—oh, but he’s found ways to support the community in a multitude of other ways,” Lewis said, rushing in. “He made a generous donation to help fix the old mining carts, you know, and together we’re working on rebuilding the museum and library.”

Together, huh?

“As you can see,” Lewis continued, “The Valley truly is a vibrant place that’s continuing to grow and attract such wonderful young people, and I do believe that you should reconsider—”

“It’s always a joy to visit Stardew Valley,” said the Governor, interrupting Lewis with admirable ease. “I take it you’ve liked your time here?”

Armed with his brightest, smarmiest, most obviously sycophantic smile, Achilles threw an around around a visibly fuming Lewis’ shoulders. “Oh yes, the Valley has been wonderful. Of course, we’re all indebted to our Mayor here—over 20 years, I’ve heard, hasn’t it been?”

“Oh. Well yes, yes… why, always unopposed…” Lewis’ halfhearted attempt at modesty was halting.

The governor chuckled. “Well it was good meeting you, Achilles. Now go run along, no need to stay here with us stuffy old gents any longer. Perhaps, Lewis, we should move forward with the Luau?”

Achilles didn’t need to be told twice, scurrying away back to Alex and Penny at the grill as the governor and Lewis together made their way to the giant pot in the center of the beach.

“Sucking up to the governor, I see.”

“Alex, let me tell you, I’m not the one doing any of the sucking there…” Achilles hopped deftly onto the edge of the table. The line for burgers had temporarily dwindled down; most folks were now either on the dance floor or hitting the water.

“Figures… Hey, you want that burger now?”

At that moment, Lewis took to a small stage that had been set up next to the giant pot of soup and picked up a microphone.

“In a second, I want to see what the fuck is the deal with this soup.”

Alex barked a laugh and set his spatula to the side, wiping his hands on his apron. “Right-o.”

Lewis gave the microphone a few shrieking taps and then began. “Well folks, it’s time once again for the potluck ceremony. I trust that you all put high-quality ingredients in the pot this year—Carl, you heard me! You better not’ve put in that eggplant dip again—we don’t want the governor to regret his visit to the valley!”

The crowd chuckled politely as the governor (and Carl, wherever he was) shook his head in mock consternation.

“Well… Governor? Would you do us the honor of tasting the soup?”

“Of course,” the governor said, moving forward. “I’ve been looking forward to this all year.”

“Wow, no taster or anything, hmm? Could be a pretty straightforward assassination method, shame Lewis doesn’t taste it first,” Achilles murmured as Penny and Alex, who had leaned closer to better hear, held back snorts. “Al, didn’t you say people got sick once?”

Penny laughed lightly, hiding her mouth behind her hand. “Oh, it was awful… and we never caught the culprit. Lewis had always believed it was a tourist, but some of us have our suspicions…” Her eyes darted about the crowd.

The governor made his way precariously up the sagging ladder, a ladle in hand. When he reached the top, he spooned a boldly large spoonful and gulped it down without hesitation.

A pregnant pause. All eyes were on the governor.

“Ah…”

The governor set the ladle down.

“That’s a very pleasant soup. The produce from Zuzu never disappoints!”

“I put in a cheese that I’m 95% sure came from Castle Village,” Penny whispered.

“Now, who else wants some soup!” Lewis, all smiles now, waved a new ladle from atop the ladder as the townsfolk and tourists began to line up.

*****

Alex was still on burger duty, which was beginning to pick back up (poor guy doesn’t get a break, huh?), so Achilles left to, despite his better judgement, grab a small bowlful of the mysterious potluck soup. He was now standing under the shade on a mat of palm fronds waiting for Elliott and Leah who were grabbing their own bowls, when Abigail joined him.

“Once, like four or five few years ago, Sam and I dropped a pufferfish in. Straight up wrecked everyone.”

Achilles immediately lowered his spoon back into his bowl. “Aren’t pufferfish… poisonous?”

“Yeah…” Though Abigail didn’t look quite as remorseful as her tone may have tried to suggest. “We thought it’d be better than anchovies… hey, in our defense, we didn’t realize it would be that bad… like, nobody died… or had any longstanding health issues or whatever, so all’s well that ends well, right?”

Achilles raised his eyebrows, unwilling to swallow the tiny mouthful of soup he had spooned before this revelation.

“Don’t worry, we just put in some onions this year,” she said, watching him slosh the soup between his cheeks as if it could weed out any potential poisons. “Now,” Abigail leaned closer in and lowered her voice, “Nobody except Seb knows it was us though, so don’t say anything.”

In an unusual turn of events (after assuring Abigail he wasn’t a snitch), he caught Shane trying to catch his eye from across the dance floor. He pointed to himself quizzically to confirm (when did Shane ever want to chat?), and received an urgent, almost conspiratorial, beckoning wave in response.

Saying farewell to Abigail—although he wasn’t sure if she heard him, as Sebastian and Sam had arrived with plates heaping with food—Achilles navigated his way through the crowd over to Shane, who was now wearing his JojaMart polo, the bright blue cap clutched in his thick fingers.

“What in the world have you got that on for?” Achilles asked, waving aside the beer Shane was offering him.

“Gotta leave for a shift in 15,” he grunted. “Damn store doesn’t close during the holiday—doesn’t close any time, they’re open pretty much 24 hours every day in the Summer because of all these fuckin’ tourists…”

“Ahh… I’m sorry about that.” Achilles took a seat on the wicker chairs, ready to give the man a much needed comforting pat on the back, just as Shane began to stand.

From above his blue collar, Shane’s neck had turned slightly red, as Achilles realized it was oft to do when he was about to ask for even the smallest favor. Also in typical Shane fashion, the man turned his gaze to the ground.

“Wanted to ask if you’d keep an eye on Jas after I head out—Marnie’s a little… distracted.” his eyes wavered over at the bushy haired woman who was already rather red in the face, one hand grasping the stem of a cocktail glass, the other touching Lewis’ arm as she laughed heartily at a joke Achilles refused to believe warranted any level of teeth showing.

“Hmm? Sure, no problem.” Jas, easy to find due to her purple hair, was currently down by the shore with Vincent.

“She’ll probably stick close to him, and Jodi’s watching of course, but, ya know… just in case. Can never have too many eyes out, especially with all these strangers out here.” He glanced around, his eyes rimmed with red and suspicion alike.

“Yeah, of course. No worries, I’ll make sure she gets back before dark.”

“Thanks. Appreciate it.”

*****

After a few hours spent chatting with Elliott and Leah, the sun had begun to set. Rather than wait for the tiki torches to be lit, Achilles made for Jas who was still splashing in the shallows with Vincent (Marnie had since disappeared…).

“Hey Jas. I think it’s time we head back to the ranch.”

She stopped mid-splash to glance distrustingly up at him. “Who are you?”

It took a concerted effort not to roll his eyes. “I’m—”

“I’m just yanking your chain.” Definitely must’ve learned that phrase at home. “You’re Uncle Shane’s friend, the farmer man. Okay. Let’s go.” She reached for his hand and began to lead the way. “Bye Vincent.”

Didn’t need much persuading, huh, Achilles thought to himself. Jas’ hand was small and damp in his, but she led with youthful confidence. At her touch, something ached ever so slightly in his chest—as the second oldest cousin of six, he had always (to some people’s surprise) liked children, though being an only child, he’d had no nieces or nephews.

“Do you want to grab some leftovers?” he asked her as they neared the potluck tables, still laden with a fair amount of food.

“Okay.”

He grabbed her a plate and she reached for a few lukewarm hot dogs. “Why is your hair like that?” she asked suddenly, pointing at the streak in his hair. He was surprised she could make it out in the orange light. “You don’t look old enough to be going grey.”

“Why is your hair like that?” he shot back at her. “You don’t look old enough to be going purple.”

Jas giggled, as Achilles continued. “I got hit in the head hard as a kid, so you better be careful or the same will happen to you.”

“You smell like grass.”

“All right, well you smell like seaweed.” Achilles scratched his head. “You ready to go now?”

He glanced around the beach again, but Marnie was still nowhere to be found. Neither, he noticed, was Lewis…

“Hey, Achilles!”

Both him and Jas turned—Alex was tossing a volleyball between his hands.

“You wanna play a round with Sam, Abigail, and I? We need one more.”

“Ahh…” Oh he wanted to, that was for sure, but… “I can’t, gotta take this one back.”

“You can play with Mr. Alex if you want,” Jas said, accompanying her somber nod with a clumsy pirouette. “I don’t mind.”

A better wingman than your Uncle, Achilles wanted to say, but he shook his head instead, just as Alex strolled closer, bouncing the ball with his forearms. “It’s okay, Jas. I told your Uncle I’d get you back before dark.”

“Oh, I see—babysitting duty, huh?” Alex knelt to offer Jas a high five. “Now Jas, you better take good care of Achilles, okay? Make sure he brushes his teeth and is in bed before 9.” She giggled as he stood back up, tucking the ball under his arm. “Well we might still be here for a bit if you come back. If not, I better see you Saturday, all right?”

*****

It was over a half hour walk through Cindersap Forest with Jas determined to stop at every other rock or river to look for crawdads and roll polys and the like. While a part of him wanted to tell her to pick up the pace so he could maybe head back to the beach, Achilles forced himself to knock that bubbling impatience aside, instead joining her in her quest for to identify every species of bug they came across.

Finally, they reached the ranch. But a knock on the door was met with silence.

“You haven’t got a key, have you?” he said, looking down in the shadows at the pigtailed girl. She shook her head and took it upon herself to send a hailstorm of tiny fists down upon the door.

He sighed, prepared to bring her back to his own cottage if needed, when a breathless Marnie wrenched open the front door, her hair rather askew and… to Achilles’ discomfort, her blouse unbuttoned incorrectly.

“Achilles! Ah! Thanks very much for bringing Jas back.”

“Bye Mr. Robinson, thank you for bringing me home.” Without even a second glance, Jas sprinted into the house straight for her bedroom.

“I’m happy to take her back to my place if you’re… busy…”

“Huh? Oh—no, no. Everything’s good here. Thank ya again!” With an abruptness that rivaled Jas’ unceremonious exit, Marnie shut the door with a goodbye.

There was an empty sort of hollow in his chest, now that he found himself alone under cover of dusk. But figuring that nobody in their right mind would be playing beach volleyball now that it was this dark out (and would be even darker by the time he arrived back at the beach), Achilles shook off his solitude with just the tiniest sigh and made his way back to Strawberry Farms.

#llnks #sunspray peak #stardew valley fanfic #stardew fanfic #stardew alex #stardew valley alex #alex sdv #stardew valley oc #stardew farmer

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