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I wasn’t ever a fast learner. It had been about two weeks since Ferngill Republic declared war against the Gotoro Empire before I even heard the news. I’m not all to blame, I was traveling, after all. I didn’t have time to stop and read the newspaper. I had to keep my eyes on the road. Unless you wanted me to get distracted and crash my semi loaded with Joja Cola into oncoming traffic.
Yeah, I thought not.
That’s the one thing I was good at. Keeping my eyes focused on the road, no matter where I went, no matter how long it took me. That’s pretty much my life in a nutshell, keep going and don’t worry about what’s behind you. I grew up in a family with no money, in a town with even less money, so I took the first chance I had to drive outta there.
So, that was my life. After I turned eighteen, I was driving all across Ferngill making deliveries. I did the job that nobody else felt like doing. They were too busy going to get “higher educations” or some of that nonsense.
Not me. I was smart for skipping school. I had better things to do with my time. I made an assload of money driving shipments back and forth across the country, and I didn’t even have to pay those “student loans” I kept hearing about.
In those days, people were always gossiping about how times were changing. Maybe it was the war breaking out. Maybe it was the turn of the century. But nobody could shut their traps about how they could feel some great change was coming to the world.
Bullshit. All I needed was my truck and the open road. Nothing could stop me.
Nothing except a damn pile of nails in the road.
- - -
“Fuck!” I blurted as I kicked the busted tire. As if to taunt me, it let out a pathetic wheeze. I ran my hand through my thick blonde curls, my hair was already soaked in sweat. Of all the places for my truck to break down, it had to be in the Yoba-forsaken desert.
Luckily there was an oasis nearby. Well, “oasis” is too strong of a word. “Shit-puddle” is more like it.
I walked all the way from the road to a strange purple building right in the middle of the sand. The place looked shady as fuck. But, they had a phone.
The trucker company got another vehicle to take care of the load, which sucked, because that means I wasn’t getting paid. The only thing they gave me was a free ride to the nearest town.
Pelican Town. Who the fuck names a place after the world’s rattiest bird? Well, it had a bed and breakfast. And a saloon. I couldn’t really complain.
Walking through the place was like something out of a book. Not that I read many books, but when I was younger, I did flip through this one picture book about little kids traveling into fantasy worlds of magical forests. What I mean to say is that there was a fuck-ton of trees in that town. That was fantasy enough for me. Everything was so quiet, green, and nice. Nicer than the place I grew up in.
The first person I ran into was a neat-looking man with light brown hair and a silly mustache. He was carrying a clipboard and taking notes as he walked down the street. Just by being himself he already pissed me off.
“Hey,” I called out to him, “could you show me where the bed and breakfast is?”
The man looked up from his clipboard and greeted me with a cheery smile.
“The bed and breakfast is at 2 Willow Lane,” he said. “My name is Lewis, I’m the mayor of this town.”
I didn’t ask for his name, the idiot.
“Great,” I replied, “thanks.”
He tucked the clipboard under his arm and walked closer with a friendly smile. Oh no. I didn’t ask for this.
“Might I ask what brings you to town?”
“My truck broke down, they said this would be a good place to stay for a bit.”
“Well, they were right about that.” He handed me a slip of paper. “Before you leave, please be sure to drop off this survey at my house, that’s the large white manor in the middle of town. Here in Pelican Town, we strive to make this a hospitable place. So if you have any questions, please don’t be shy.”
I crumpled the survey in my pocket. “Which way to the saloon?”
Lewis gave me a nod and a wink, like we were in on a joke. “That’s the first building down the street. I highly recommend the pale ale.”
He was annoying, all right, but I guess the old fella was starting to grow on me.
- - -
When I knocked on the door to the bed-and-breakfast, I was greeted by even more absurdly cheery people. A handsome blond man and his wife sat in the living room, sipping tea and listening to the radio. Their house was as bright and colorful than a dumb kid’s drawing book. In fact, there were a ton of crappy kid drawings pinned all over the walls.
“Hey, um, I heard ya’ll got a place to stay for the night?” I asked.
The man’s name was Halen, and the wife was Amelia. They had a blue-haired little girl running around the place, too, named Emily. Apparently, they opened up their place for visitors so they could make some extra money. They were small town folk with dreams of traveling the world. I got cavities at how sweet this place was.
I hate kids, so I didn’t want to stay for long. Especially with that Emily. She was one of those little brats that was super nice around strangers and refused to leave me alone.
So, yeah yeah, I had my doubts about this place, but all that went away as soon as I walked into the saloon. Kegs lining the wall, tables dusted with peanut shells, rowdy laughter and cheers from the patrons…now this was my kind of place. Maybe my little stop wouldn’t be a total bust.
After a quick scan of the room, I spotted an empty seat next to a decent-looking young man, so that’s where I decided to park my butt for the night.
“Hey, barkeep,” I ordered as I slapped the table. “I’ll take a pale ale, make sure there’s more drink than froth.”
The bartender laughed at my comment. He was a pudgy young fellow trying too hard to grow out his facial hair. Probably so he could look more like that Mayor Lewis. His gut shook when he laughed. “I wouldn’t serve anything less. Can I get you anything else while you’re here, stranger?”
“Get the jalapeño poppers,” the guy next to me said. “They’ll burn your tongue, but it’s worth it.”
I ate about three orders of the stuff. The dinner of fucking champions! By the time I started my fourth, I caught the guy next to me sneaking a popper out of my basket.
“Hey, it was my idea.” He shrugged innocently as he caught the popper in his mouth. “You should be the one thanking me.”
He wasn’t exactly my type of guy. His flaming-red hair made my eyes want to bleed, and his face was dotted with freckles like a burnt cheese pizza. The only thing worth looking at was his eyes, smart and green.
“Name’s Peter,” he said. “What brings you here?”
“These poppers, this beer,” I answered as I took a long swig. As much as I loved to drink, I usually didn’t have the time between driving.
I was fine with skipping straight to the sex, but Peter insisted on talking. Great. What happened to the good old days when I could get into someone’s pants without knowing their life story?
Peter was a farm hand who worked for Old Man Judd, as they called him. He lived and worked off of Judd’s land. Peter was a pretty popular guy in town, as I could tell by the way he pointed out each and every person at the bar and introduced them by name.
Gus was new here, also. He was the bartender.
The smooching couple in the back were Jodi and Kent. Kent was dressed in a fresh military uniform – tonight was their last celebration before sending him off to war.
Lewis was sharing a drink with Farmer Judd. Marnie was the young brunette trying to get Lewis’ attention. Poor girl. Her fault for having bad taste in men.
“I pretty much own this town,” Peter bragged. “Once I inherit the land from Judd, I’ll be even bigger than Mayor Lewis.”
“Uh-huh,” I mumbled, pretending to listen.
He flashed his green eyes at me and leaned closer. “But you’re not interested in that…are you?”
I reached out and poked his shoulder. “You know, for a farmer, you’re pretty thin.”
His face glowed red as he flexed his muscles, trying to prove me wrong.
So, Peter was just another idiot, just like the rest of the townsfolk. But I like my skinny men. I’m a big girl myself, and it’s fun holding them down in bed.
Hey. If you were me, you would’ve done the same.
I was just about to drag Peter outta there when someone stood up and yelled at the whole bar.
“Hey everybody!” It was Kent, who gave the whole saloon a confident grin. “I just wanted to say thanks again for this amazing party. I’m gonna miss you all, but not too much, I’ll be too busy kicking some Gotoro ass!”
The saloon erupted into cheers, fawning over him and his bravery. I gotta admit, even I gave the guy a round of applause. Did I know what this war was about? No. Did I want us to win? Hell yes!
Kent chugged a pint down before returning to his girl. “Jodi, you gotta try some of this!”
The brown-haired girl turned it away. “No, thanks. I’ll just stick with water.”
“Jodi…” Kent whined, leaning his weight on her, “this’s our last night for Yoba-knows-how-long…you really wanna be like this?”
“Is it so awful to remember our last night sober?” Jodi hissed.
“Why are you so scared all of a sudden?”
“Kent, you’re embarrassing me-”
“You’d feel much better if you just calmed the fuck down and share a drink with me-”
“I’m not drinking!” Jodi screamed. “I don’t want to hurt the baby!”
I nearly spat out my drink. The whole saloon went dead quiet. Except for the jute box, which kept playing a cheery tune that matched the room’s mood like a fat girl in a cheer squad.
Jodi’s face burned red under everyone’s gaze. Kent’s eyes popped open, as if someone splashed cold water in his face. It seemed that news was enough to sober him up.
I couldn’t hear what he said next, but they both went up and left. Once the door rattled closed, everyone looked around at each other.
Peter rubbed the peach fuzz on his face.
“It’s usually not this crazy around here,” he said, almost like an apology. Then he sat up straight and everything about his mood seemed to switch to something completely different. He seemed to lose himself but was happy about it. “Do you ever feel like the world is just changing and there’s nothing we can do about it but just play along?”
He waited for me to answer. Everyone in the saloon went back to their drinks, mumbling and muttering, pretending like nothing happened.
I held back a yawn, leaned into his ear, and told him exactly this: “Are we getting out of here or what?”
- - -
Somewhere in the middle between Peter’s weird, boney body and the musty smell of his live-in shed, all I could think about was if I could get a refund on that stupid bed-and-breakfast.
I woke up the next morning, stumbled out of the shed, and said no to his offer of grabbing a meal. I’d already invested too much time into a dingy town that meant next to nothing to me. Next to fucking nothing.
In fact, I hadn’t thought about Peter or Pelican Town again until a few weeks later. I was hiking down my skirt in a roadside bathroom, having felt like shit several mornings in a row.
There’s no way, I thought as I pissed on the stick. He wore a cock sock…didn’t he?
Something must’ve gone wrong that night, because there I was, staring at a blue plus sign on a stick, holding up the line in a gross-ass ladies’ room, thinking of how to get this baby outta me.
This is the Ferngirl Republic, so I didn’t have a lot of options. Some areas were okay with baby flushing. Most places would rather force you to pop a baby out, even if you didn’t know what to do with it. I really don’t give two shits about your precious opinions on the subject, but for me right then, I knew my answer.
I wasn’t gonna pay the bill all by myself, of course. Unfortunately, that meant another trip into Pelican Town. It takes two to get the job done, after all, and Peter struck me as a nice enough guy to pay his share.
I waited another few weeks for some time off from work. I headed into Pelican Town as soon as I could.
It was surprising just how many people recognized me as I walked on through. What a bunch of losers. To my own horror, I recognized most everybody, too. Two people I didn’t see were Kent and Jodi. I had to admit, it made me the tiniest bit disappointed thinking that I might never hear the end of their story. I’m not the biggest gossip around, but everyone’s a sucker for big shockers of drama like that.
I was walking into one right then.
Farmer Judd was an old guy, but he worked like a machine. I spent a few minutes watching him race Peter to see who could dump the most fertilizer in the fields. I couldn’t hold back laughter when I saw the old bag of bones outrun the younger man.
“Hey!” Peter called out when he rounded the corner where I watched them. His face was blanked with shock, but he smiled. “Never thought I’d see you here again, Pamela.”
My name’s not even Pamela. It’s just Pam. My parents were lazy fucks.
“Yeah, bad day for you, I guess,” I answered, hugging my arms tightly across my chest.
Peter looked up like he didn’t believe me. “I wouldn’t say that. I’m actually pretty glad to see you around here again. It’s good to have a fresh face.”
His overalls were smeared in dirt. He smelled like shit. Yet, his bright green eyes glittered with honesty.
“You sure about that?” I asked. “I didn’t exactly come here for a pleasure trip.”
Peter tilted his head. Idiot didn’t get it. I figured I’d just keep on being honest with the poor guy.
“So, I’m pregnant, and it’s your fault, and I need your help taking care of it.”
Silly me, I thought that would be enough.
Peter stood in silent as he took the information in. He ran his hand through his hair, ignoring the fertilizer he smeared his head with. He turned to look back at everything around him, Farmer Judd, the fields, the sky. Only then did I size him up for who he really was. Who I thought he was at the time. He was just like me, a young thing built with grit and born for hard work. This land would be his, one day. Maybe he thought the world would be his, if he only worked enough.
“Take care of it?” His eyes squinted in the sunlight. “You mean like being a father?”
“Oh Yoba, no!” I said. “I mean the exact opposite.”
He looked back to Judd again. “Hold on, give me a sec.” He ran back to the old man, shared a few words, then ran back to me, peeling his dirty overalls off. Left with a plain shirt and shorts, he asked me if it was okay to go for a walk in the woods.
You already know my thoughts on the problem. It was just a zit that needed to be popped. Okay, it was an expensive kind of zit, but you get the picture.
So, how did he convince me otherwise?
He said exactly what I was thinking. He was a hard worker with aims of seeing his brand all across Stardew Valley.
He also said things I didn’t expect. Kent was his best friend, but he didn’t respect him leaving Jodi behind to wait for their child to be born without him.
Then he said something I didn’t know I wanted to hear until he said it. He took my hand and first apologized. He always saw himself as having a family one day. If I would allow it, he’d take care of me and our baby, and he would be happy about it. He didn’t know me that well, but he knew enough to know that I was a smart woman who would make great company. Because I was a smart woman, he said the decision was mine.
In the town I grew up in, that was where the future came to die. There was nothing there for me and my kin except blasting your brains out on drugs, alcohol, or some combination of both. Graduating high school meant nothing. Finding a good job and keeping it was rare. There were no adults in my town, just a bunch of losers who never grew up. They were never given the hope that things could be better than what was given to them.
That’s why I told Peter yes. All my life, I never met anyone who made me feel like I was worth saving. I never met anyone who thought I could make something beautiful.
Maybe someone like me could belong in a beautiful town like this.
Mayor Lewis already had a plan for me, he wanted to make the town an official bus stop and have me be the driver. It meant having to give up my powerful semi, the open roads, the familiar back and forth across the nation. I told myself it would be worth it.
I didn’t know the first thing about kids. Once again, I found myself in the company of Halen, Amelia, and their daughter Emily. They taught me everything I needed to know.
Part of me wondered if I would become friends with Jodi. Her son was to be born sometime in the spring. I thought maybe we might have more in common than being the village’s pregnant whores.
It disgusted her when I told her that. She didn’t get the joke. No sense of humor, that’s how I knew we weren’t meant to be friends.
That’s one thing that didn’t change about Pelican Town: nobody felt like talking shit. Nobody ever laughed like they meant it. They were too busy planting flowers, or praising Farmer Judd’s fresh goat milk, or enjoying the local wildlife. Nothing was ever bad. If I wasn’t pregnant, I’d be drinking every night. It took a lot of strength to put up with everyone’s constant damned sunshine.
I did end up going to the saloon every night anyways, just to talk to Gus. We didn’t have a whole lot in common, but he knew how to cook. Every time he slid me a basket full of fried goods, I’d eat every last piece. I’d crumble up the wax paper from the basket, then we’d take bets on whether or not I could land it in the trash can. Gus would yell if anyone else threw trash around, but he never did that to me, because he knew I would always pick it up if I missed. Sometimes I wondered if I hooked up with the wrong guy that night.
It didn’t take long for us to realize that there wasn’t enough room for me and Peter to both live in his little shack on the farm. We weren’t married, and we definitely didn’t share a bank account. He guarded his savings like a junkyard dog, and whenever I asked him why, he said he was saving up to expand Judd’s land into a huge winery, full of grapes and kegs full of the good stuff. He could turn an easy profit by mass-producing high-quality goods. Then, we’d never have to worry about money ever again.
I believed him.
I didn’t have the money to build my own house, and I’d be damned if I was going to bunk with one of those smiling freaks from the town. I bought a cheap trailer and had it parked right in an empty space near the river. I fished on my days off, so I wouldn’t have to spend money going out to eat. Some days, I would do nothing at all. I just sat in the shadow of the trailer, safe from the sun, and dip my feet into the water. I’d place my hand on my stomach and feel the baby do somersaults. Moments like these, I got close to understanding what those folks were talking about. Stardew Valley was a better home than the gray road.
I’m realizing I’m not talking a lot about Peter. You think I’d talk a lot about the guy that would put a baby in me but wouldn’t marry me.
The stupid thing is that I thought I was getting to know him better.
He made his home in the trailer but stayed some nights on the farm to be closer to work. On the nights he did come back, he would always bring some fresh produce. We’d cook dinner together then eat by the television. There wasn’t much for us to talk about, since we both did the same jobs every day. For a couple expecting a baby, nothing ever really seemed all that exciting. When we did talk for real, we’d only ever talk about the future. His plans for us, the empire he’d build, and how we would pass it onto our child. It was such a simple dream, and I accepted it because I knew this was a simple town. All I had to do was wait for the greatness to shine down. I trusted him. But I don’t think I ever loved him.
In the fall, on the most terrifying night of my life, our daughter was born. I knew I was going to die. The pain was too much and too long. In the darkest pit of my heart, I just wanted my own mom to appear and hold my hand. But that would never happen, my parents were both junky losers who probably never even noticed I’d left. There I was, living a nightmare in a town of strangers, with no one to help me.
Then I wasn’t alone. Peter appeared at the doctor’s office, having heard the news just in time. He took my hand, looked me in the eyes, and promised me that everything would be fine. I melted down and told him how scared and alone I was. I’d never been that more pathetic in my life. But he didn’t scold me for it, he didn’t laugh or even tell me I was wrong. I remember exactly what he said.
“I’m scared, too. But our baby is gonna be awesome, and we won’t have to feel alone ever again.”
I don’t know why, but that was all it took for me to be brave again. Only then did it hit me that I was gonna be a mom. It wasn’t watching Jodi go through the same process just a season before. It wasn’t feeling the baby swim inside me like some sort of movie monster. It was the warm, little hope that I wouldn’t be alone anymore.
After it was over, the doctor told us that I was lucky. It was a difficult birth, but there weren’t any major complications.
Lucky.
I think it was within the first few days of us being together, but Peter suggested we give our baby a “P” name. Peter, Pam, some bullshit poetry like that. I thought it was stupid, but I finally caved. And that’s the story of how our lucky Penny was born.
That night I fell asleep, half-expecting white credits to roll on a black screen, like the end of a movie. I moved from home, conquered my fears, began a new life, and finally started to feel happy about it. That’s when the story ends, right? Sure enough, I woke up the next morning with a brand-new war to win.
- - -
Babies are tough as shit. Yeah, not in the real way, they’re babies, after all. You gotta admit though, it takes talent to scream your tiny head off all day and night.
I guess I’m being dramatic. Penny was actually a real good one, very quiet and not too fussy. Especially compared to Jodi’s baby, Sam. Jodi didn’t have Kent, but she did have just about everyone else in the valley to help her. Me? My only friend was Gus, and he was just as good with kids as I was. Plus, he had the saloon to run. Peter was as busy as he always was. Sometimes when he was gone, I imagined that the farm was on another planet, and he’d zoom back and forth on a spaceship.
This is the long version of me saying I had nobody.
Well, that’s not all entirely true. I guess Penny counted as somebody, even though she was the size of a bread loaf and just as squishy. I never liked kids, never wanted kids, but she was definitely her father’s daughter, because she wormed her way into my heart like a little maggot.
Oh boy, was she her father’s daughter. Same alarming green eyes and flaming ginger hair. She didn’t inherit his freckles, lucky her. Those freckles on Peter were really an eyesore.
You’re probably wondering at this point why I haven’t mentioned the wedding yet. That’s because there never was one. I kept waiting but he never brought it up. I was fine without it, I was never one for big fancy occasions. Maybe we’d just be one of those couples that lived their whole lives married not by the law but by nature.
Hah, yeah, seems like a whole load of crap now.
I guess it’s time to talk about the ugly part.
Four years passed. I got back to work driving the bus. Whenever I did, I dropped off Penny with whoever was free at the time. Most times it was Halen and Amelia, then Jodi, and sometimes Gus if I asked nice enough. Farmer Judd was getting older, and he spent many days in his home instead of being out in the field. He took watch over Penny a few times. He liked it. He said it reminded him of his own granddaughter, who was living in Zuzu city with her parents. She was just about Penny’s age, in fact. Until Judd got sicker, and Peter asked me to stop bringing Penny to the farm.
Um…what else happened in those years?
Babies. Lots of babies. Jodi and I set a real trend.
Pierre inherited his father’s shop, he and his wife Caroline got married and had a baby of their own by the time Penny was two years old.
When Penny was three, Halen and Amelia had another baby girl. The same year, Kent came back, but not to stay for long. Just long enough to meet his son. I don’t remember him doing much else.
When Penny was five, another couple moved in with their two children, a carpenter and a scientist. When I met the carpenter, Robin, I asked her how much it would cost to build us a real house. The price cut me right through the gut and I never asked again.
My mother found me.
She was sick and wanted to spend the last few years of her life with the ones she loved. I knew it was all bullshit, and the only reason she came crawling to find me was because I was the only person who hadn’t dumped her. And I didn’t. I needed as many babysitters as I could get if I wanted to earn enough money to get ourselves a real home.
Mom died after about six weeks of living with us. To this day, Penny swears she remembers her, but I think she’s making it up, she was barely a toddler when it happened.
Okay. I know I need to talk about Peter now.
Penny was five. It was an autumn night close to her birthday. We were both lying on the floor of the trailer. I remember it exactly because I was watching the TV, and she was using the light from the screen to look at a picture book.
Then, I realized, she wasn’t just looking at the pictures.
“Penny,” I said, “whatchya doing?”
She was lying on her stomach, kicking her feet up behind her. Such a cute kid. I still wonder where the hell she came from.
“Reading,” she answered simply.
“No you ain’t, I never taught you to read.”
“Auntie Jodi’s teaching me.”
It felt like someone threw a rock in my brain. Who gave my kid permission to be so smart and quick to learning? Who gave Jodi permission to call her ‘auntie?’ Jodi hated me.
“What’s this book about,” I grumbled as I slid it from under her.
“Hey….” Penny whined, but she didn’t fight back for it.
It was just some stupid book about weird little apple creatures living in the forest. I tossed it back to her.
“You know Jeronimos aren’t real, right?” I asked. “I don’t want these books makin’ you believe in made-up garbage.”
“They’re called Juminos,” Penny corrected in a quiet voice. “They aren’t made-up garbage.”
If it wasn’t such a long day at work, I would’ve given that kid a good lesson in manners. I let it slide, for now.
The door exploded. Peter stormed in, red in the face. More red than I ever knew was possible on a person.
“That motherfucker!” he shouted.
Penny’s eyes opened wide with shock, not understanding why her daddy would use such bad language. Her tiny hands held the book to her chest like a shield.
Peter reached for the nearest thing too him – a plant on a table – and chucked it against the wall.
“Woah, calm down, buddy,” I said as I got up to stop him. “Let’s take this outside.”
“Get your hands off me, this is my house.” He slapped me away.
“Excuse me, I paid-” I stopped when I remembered the terrified little girl in the room. I turned Peter around and pushed him outside. “Let’s go, man.”
“What the fuck is your problem?” I asked once the door was shut.
Peter threw his hands in the direction to the farm. “That old bastard is two fucking days from kicking the bucket and he’s giving me nothing.” His face twisted into a crazy-eyed devil. It was like I was looking at another man.
“What?!” I asked.
“Yeah! He just told me! He’s passing on the deed to the family that doesn’t give too shits about him or his land.”
“Okay…but why?”
“Hell if I know.” Peter dropped his arms and wiped his face. For a second I thought he was winding down. “Fuck!” he screamed and threw his fist onto the trailer.
“So what happens to the farm?” I asked. “If his family doesn’t care, then what? Can’t you just ask them to stay there?”
Peter nailed his head onto the cold steel wall. “It’s not just that…”
“What?” I demanded. “C’mon, Pete, talk some sense!”
“Get the fuck away from me, you useless bag.” He launched off of the trailer and stormed in the direction of the saloon.
“Now’s not the time for that bullshit, man.” I tried to stop him by grabbing his wrist. He snapped his hand away then slapped the other across my face. For a second I saw white. My cheek stung. When I looked back, he was marching to the saloon.
I stumbled back into the trailer and landed on the couch. My head was knocked off of the track and needed to be set straight again.
Forward. Rolling on the perfect black asphalt. Powerful engine, a horn that blared like a bomb when I hit the wheel.
“Mama?” I heard a tiny voice.
Penny was kneeling on the couch next to me, reaching to touch my face.
My eyes fell onto the TV, glowing with its stupid colorful nonsense. I was always a dumb kid who never knew anything. But at that moment, I knew exactly two truths about me.
Number one: Nothing had changed from my days driving a truck. I need to keep driving forward and not worry about the damage left behind my tracks. Peter was a pothole I ran over and I needed to get as far away from him as possible.
Second: I didn’t care what happened at that farm. To keep me and my daughter safe, Peter and everything he touched would have to be left behind. Even if that farm meant money.
He came back so soon I didn’t have time to prepare. I immediately threw Penny behind me and picked up the TV remote, ready to throw it at his head.
“You get the hell outta here or else I swear-”
“Oh, please. I don’t need you anymore.” He went right passed me and into the bedroom. We waited until he came back out, a backpack slung over his shoulder. “All you’ve done is trap me here like a fuckin’ jail cell.”
Just like that he was gone. I stood still in silence. I was half expecting Penny to start crying. She was a real big crybaby. Instead she just clung to my side, shivering like a little mouse. I held her.
Gus, Lewis, and Pierre came by right after. They told me what happened. Peter burst into the Stardrop Saloon and demanded a drink. Gus refused because he was concerned about him. Peter smashed up a bottle and threatened anyone who’d come close. Ever the soldier, Kent bull-rushed him from behind and kicked him out of the saloon. He later quietly apologized me for not knocking him out cold.
Lewis was kind enough to let me and Penny stay in his manor for the next week in case Peter came back. Clearly something was wrong. Nobody knew what. The only other clue we had was that nobody had seen or heard from Farmer Judd for days.
- - -
The next morning, I walked Penny over to the saloon. She still shook with fear. She hadn’t even spoken since that night. I wondered if she was broken or something. I would’ve taken her with me, but where I was going, I didn’t want to risk her getting hurt.
“Mornin’ Gus!” I hollered, trying as hard as I could to seem like nothing was wrong.
“Pam, it’s good to see you. What are you doing here this early?” Gus asked. He was sweeping up the place, left untouched from last night’s mess.
“Is it all right if I leave Penny with you today?” I asked. Of all the days, this was the one time I couldn’t afford a no.
Gus’ smile beamed behind his mustache. “Of course.”
Thank Yoba for Gus.
I looked down to my daughter and squeezed her hand. “All right, little miss, you’d better be on your best behavior for Uncle Gus.”
I didn’t give Penny a hug goodbye. The last thing she needed now was another reason to worry.
- - -
I don’t know what I was expecting when I walked into Judd’s Farm. Maybe the place was torn to shit. Maybe Judd was dead, rotting in his room. Maybe Peter was waiting in the bushes, ready to get me next.
The field looked normal, if not a little dry.
I knocked on the front door. It creaked open, revealing the tiny gray man, old but alive.
“Pam,” he said. “I thought you’d come here.”
“We’ve all been worried about you,” I said. I didn’t know if it was true or not, but I figured that’s what everyone was thinking.
His watery eyes twinkled. “How nice.”
Judd invited me inside. I told him what happened. He nodded solemnly, like he was expecting this.
“When you get old like me, you learn to be careful with your words. I know why you’re here and I’ll tell you what happened,” he said. He took an unsteady breath. “But first, I hope you’ll forgive me.”
“What for?”
“For not stopping him sooner.” He pulled back his long-sleeved flannel, revealing deep purple bruises sprouting on his thin, wrinkled arms. “I can’t even imagine what he’s done to you and little Penny.”
Farmer Judd told me everything. He hired Peter years and years ago. At first he made himself out to be the perfect worker. Peter made promises of taking good care of the farm, if Judd decided to pass it onto him. In the past year, however, Peter showed a new side to himself. He spoke as if he had already owned the land. He made decisions behind Judd’s back. When Judd finally tried to stop him, Peter beat him to submission.
“I was too afraid to tell anyone,” Judd explained to me. “I didn’t want the town to know their town hero was outdone.” He looked up to me with sad, old eyes. “I hope you’ll forgive this proud old fool, Pam.”
If there’s one thing I hate more than babies, it’s old people. I’d rather die than get all wrinkly and gray. But Judd looked at me like I was his only light in a dark cave.
“I hope you’ll forgive me, too,” I said. “I should’ve seen the signs…”
“You can’t,” Judd said. “Not with this type of man.”
I sighed. “Thanks for telling me.” I waited. “What happens now?”
Judd sighed and relaxed into his chair. “I’m going home. The deed to the farm is going to my granddaughter, when she comes of age. Unless…” He looked at me with a shimmer of hope. That classic Pelican Town hope.
“Me? Oh Yoba, no, I don’t know the first thing about plants,” I answered.
Judd chuckled. “All right, if you insist.”
Man, I was a fool for giving that up.
Farmer Judd left for the city that same week. He wanted to be with his family for the remainder of his life. That morning he left, there was a letter for me in the mailbox with a sum of money inside.
No, I’m not telling you how much.
What I will say is that there was also a stack of books he left specifically for Penny. In Judd’s letter, he wished me the very best, and for Penny to grow up healthy and smart.
Honestly, life wasn’t that much different with Peter gone. I was already used to him not being around, and I made enough money from driving the bus to put food on the table. Not the most wholesome food, since we didn’t have any farm-fresh goods anymore. But food is food, even if it’s from a microwave.
Penny eventually did cry, and when she did, she cried for days. She and Peter weren’t close, but he was all she ever knew, and now he was gone. I guess I felt the same way when my parents did the same to me. I can’t blame her.
I tried to visit Gus more often. Some part of me hoped I still had enough beauty and charm to seduce him next and make him be Penny’s new daddy. Would’ve been hell of a better choice than Peter was.
I started by ordering a beer. In those hours after work, the drink coursed through my blood like liquid gold, warming me up, clouding my head, making me forget everything.
It was an easy routine to fall into.
Again, I wondered, is this the end? Will the credits roll over my life, ending my story?
Nope. Time kept crunching forward.
I got older and uglier. The older and uglier I did, the better the alcohol tasted on my tongue. The feeling of the world slipping away was too sweet to resist, even as my hands were flying off of the steering wheel, charging forward, crashing the bus into brick walls.
Penny grew up. She’s everything I never was: smart and hopeful. She’s everything Peter never was: truly and impossibly kindhearted. And what did I have to give her? Nothing but troubles that she didn’t deserve, and that I couldn’t fix.
It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fucking fair.
That’s the drinking song I sang myself as I plunged into another amber sea of sour oblivion.
- - -
Nothing changed after that. I never believed in change ever again.
Then, the new farmer arrived.
Sunny was her name. Yeah, I’m not even joking about that. She had her grandfather’s dimpled smile. From the very first day, she fit right into Pelican Town.
I never felt right around her, thinking of what Peter did to her grandfather so many years ago. Part of me even hated her, she had the deed to the farm that should have been Peter’s, and maybe I wouldn’t be stuck in this mess in the first place.
The worst part is that she was so hard to hate, because she was so damn nice.
I remember one afternoon, I came home from a walk to find Sunny in my trailer with Penny of all people. Shy little Penny who only spoke to Maru and the town’s children. She and the new favorite farmer were cleaning my trailer together.
How dare she. After all that was wrong, how dare she think she had the right to fix things. I don’t remember how I reacted in the moment (you can thank the alcohol for that), but that night, I told Penny I didn’t want to see her with that girl ever again.
Seeing them now, however…I’m glad Penny didn’t listen to me.
I watched them walk around town together. I watched Sunny give lectures to the kids Penny tutored. They shared their umbrellas in the rain. At home, Penny would spend hours trying to master recipes for meals that Sunny liked.
I took me a long-ass time realize it. She loved her. My girl, Peter’s daughter, fell in love with old Judd’s granddaughter. Two families with nothing but bad blood between them had healed.
Maybe there is magic in the valley after all.
It’s hard to say if I’m happy or not. My life could’ve been a lot worse. It also could’ve been a lot better. I should’ve never stayed in Pelican Town. I never should’ve let Peter manipulate me the way he did. I should’ve never believed I was worth anything.
Oh well.
I’m trying to change, but change is hard. Maybe that’s why I never believed in it. Sunny still makes me jealous, because she makes change look easy. She’s changing the farm and changing the town just by being here.
I’m trying to drink less.
Sunny fixed the bus stop, and Lewis gave me another chance to drive.
Penny’s starting to trust me again. I hope so, at least. She confessed to me the other night that she hopes Sunny will propose soon. The poor girl has it bad for the farmer.
I hope Sunny loves her back, and I do mean true love. Penny deserves so much more than what I ever gave her. Sunny would do a good job at that, if she really is the type of person she seems to be. If I’m lucky, they’ll let me watch my grandkids, one day.
So, what does this make me? Am I a bad person for falling apart the way I did? Was it my fault or was there nothing I could do? If everything really is my fault, is there any good left in my old heart?
I don’t know. Maybe I don’t care. What matters is what always mattered. That I keep behind the wheel, driving forward, not worried about what’s left behind.