Insert Usual disclaimer here. All characters described herein are not mine, no profit being made sans hopeful ego trip, please don't sue. (I really wonder if that's good enough, but I suspect we'd find out soon enough eh?)
Author Notes: It's been a looooong time since I've written a half decently motivated Harvest Moon fanfic, the other dating to the days of the original, which definitely isn't half as good of writing as this one is. Yes it's going to be JackxCelia, don't like it, tough. This is mostly the product of about 2 hours of constant writing and meandering, follow up chapters may…or may not appear.
Without further ado, please enjoy.
The Quiet on the Valley
Chapter 1: The Silence in Handshakes
In a way, Jack never asked to come to Forget Valley. Never wanted a farming life, never wanted to raise cattle and sheep, never wanted to even return to the place his father once called home. His father, in a way, Jack wasn't even sure that he had a right to call the stranger of a man his actual father. His father and his mother had split up when he was young, younger than he could remember. Jack lived with her, in the city while his father etched out an existence in this valley in the middle of nowhere. Once or twice, for Christmas or the New Year, a letter would appear in the mailbox, no postage, delivered by a tall, quiet, kindly faced black man that his mom called Takakura. He never read the letters, never wanted to. His father was a neigh faceless image, a dusty symbol he'd never known.
More than that, his father seemingly never knew of the medical condition Jack suffered, one that robbed him of his voice, robbed him of being able to speak. He understood anything and everything well enough, and his bright hazel eyes took everything in, but the big city was a relentless place for someone who was mute. His father seemed to never have known, certainly he never picked up a phone to call, never sent more than merger Christmas card, so why bother.
However when both his parents, had died within a year of each other, it left Jack listless, alone, and without a direction in life. Jack grew desolate, in his silence in the city, he found the faceless crowds around him to be more than stifling. It wasn't mere teenage boredom, it was that the silence, the cloying despair of never being watched enough to be heard that grated on his very essence of living. Once he finished high school, without his mother to enjoy his success with, it was one day shift job after another.
Life after high school was unfulfilling, and nobody wanted to be a dockworker for the rest of their lives. Jack wasn't any different. So when Takakura showed up on his apartment door again, this time with a last letter from his father, Jack made up his mind to return to the Valley, and at least give a life he'd never known a shot.
Takakura had big hopes for him, the fabled son, and child prodigy of a robust and well-liked farmer. It seemed to Jack, confined to his quiet world, that the kindly man must have had his father confused with someone else. It certainly didn't sound like Tak was describing the same person his mother had. An alcoholic, abusive, who tended to yell, with a gentle, soft spoken man who tended to his crops and raised cows twelve hours a day, seemed to be two mutually exclusive people. But everywhere he went, people said more of the same.
They greeted him well enough, and Jack, usually bad with names, found himself without error in remembering faces and names. They wished him well, they wanted him to succeed. It began to occur to the boy, that the farm held a deeper significance than just profit. It was a heart of this tiny village in the middle of a green valley. This farm that his father had built up, although beaten and worn in the years since his possibly misjudged paternal figure kept it in good shape, was still a marvel to behold.
"What's wrong with Jack? Why is he such a quiet boy?" Jack pretends not to hear Romana's whispered question to Takakura. Somehow, he already knows the query on the curious eyes of everyone else. He's quiet, because he's always been this way. Instead, he tilts his head and listens to young Lumina play the piano, favoring her with a soft smile for her dedication.
"It's a condition. Avery told me about it once; boy stopped speaking sometime after two. Never knew why. Still he's nice enough, and can hear, it's just he can't speak." Jack stops watching them out of the corner of his eye. He doesn't want to know, whether his father knew or not, nor what they thought of him. His back to the older pair, he misses the slow, condescending nod Romana gives him.
Continuing down the dusty cobblestones, Takakura introduces Jack to Wally and his family next, the loud and outgoing Wally and his son Hugh smiling and clapping Jack on the back. It perks him, it makes him feel welcome. The people here enjoy seeing a new face, not just because he is someone they've never known, but because he brings something to the community. Leaning down, Jack tugs on Hugh's ear just slightly, and pulls an old, battered coin seemingly from thin air.
"Amazing Mister! Oh can I keep it? Please?" Hugh reaches up, and Jack slides the coin over his fingers deftly, watching it as it flips shimmering in the air until he flicks it over to the boy. "Thanks Mister Jack!"
Wally smiles too, and his wife, Chris pats Hugh on the back. "Thanks friend! You'll fit right in here in this valley!" Wally shakes Jack's hand firmly, and the pact seems to be set. None of them ask why he doesn't speak, but instead just happy enough that he's there.
Two people emerge from the bar on the other side of the dusty path, introducing themselves as Muffy and Griffin. Griffin claps Jack on the back warmly, shaking his hand and regailing him with stories of his father. "I knew your father well Jack, he was a good man, a good farmer, and a better friend. We're all sad to see him go, but that's just the way I guess. I hope you 'ave a good go at that farm, and you just holler if you need anythin' right?" Muffy just stands and stares, making the boy uncomfortable and confused. She closes her mouth after a while, but there is a ravenous look in her eyes that bewilders and frightens him all the same. Eventually Takakura nudges the girl, and she snaps out of her reverie, blushing fiercely and dashing back inside the bar. With an apologetic grunt, and shrug, Griffin follows her back in as well.
Next Takakura walks him over to the Inn, and an older couple who are conversing with the owners as well. Tim and Ruby, and their son Rock are happy to see a new face, Rock nudges him and smiles, seemingly happy to see another person of similar age in the village. Nina and Galen, the older couple nod their heads and accept Jack warmly as Takakura explains how Jack will take over the farm for his father. With a sudden intuition, Ruby bids Rock, "Oh! Rock go get some food for Jack, he probably won't have any time to cook something tonight, so we'll send him home with some Forget Me Not hospitality!" Rock re-emerges a half minute later with a brown bag, still warm from the kitchen. With well wishes on his shoulders, and smiles for everyone, Jack tucks the brown parcel into his rucksack.
Along the path, Takakura points out the other denizens of the village, most of them being too busy with work to come out and properly visit, while they stroll along the path to the bridge that resides next to Vesta's farm. Along the way, another girl, with dusty red hair passes them. Takakura nods to her, but makes no motion to introduce Jack at all. The girl does herself anyway, seemingly surprising the old man.
"Hey, you're the new farmer?" Jack looks at her, and nods. Her icy blue eyes pierce at him, as though he's being sized up. "Ok then. I'm Nami." Jack looks over at Takakura, who introduces him, but when he reaches out tentatively to shake her hand, she merely raises both arms up and tucks them behind her head. Slowly, confused Jack lowers his hand again. "Well, see you around Jack." With nothing more than that, she walks off down the path past them.
Looking over to the old man inquisitively, Takakura merely shrugs his shoulders. "She's a cold one, smart, but cold. Best steer clear." Jack looks over his shoulder at her, and she's already walking on, head apparently in the clouds.
Vesta's farm is last on the list, and offers a sharp contrast to everything else. The farm is like well oiled machine, rows and rows of regularly and perfectly lined crops planted through the fields, and a pair of green houses standing side by side with fruits growing inside. Vesta herself is a hearty lady with a robust laugh, she claps Jack on the back almost hard enough to bowl him over.
"Ahhh Jack, you're all grown up now. I remember back in the day when you were just born!" Vesta is all smiles, and behind her, her brother Marlin wears a cheeky grin around a straw of hay in his teeth. "Come now, I'll give you some things to help you get started, especially if you're going to eat at all this season. Just don't get any ideas about competing with me ok?" With a bit of searching, Vesta produces handfuls of tiny seed bags, carefully marked. "These should do the trick!" With an amiable pat, Vesta opens Jack's rucksack for him and tucks it all away. "Oh before you go, you should meet Celia! Celia, come out here and meet Jack!"
The woman's hearty bellow produces a young girl, no a young woman about Jack's age, peeking out from the farmhouse door. She walks out quietly, wiping flour covered hands on an already white-dusted, faded orange apron. The well-used green dress is damp with sweat and water, and idly she flicks back an errant strand of hair that seems to be perpetually blowing in front of her eyes. "Nice to meet you Jack. Will you be working the farm from now on?"
Jack forgets himself. For a moment, he almost opens his mouth, as if forgetting he can't even speak to this young woman anyway. She looks beautiful, his mind whispers, like the first spring showers that wash the weight of the world away in the city. Suddenly, Jack remembers where he is, and instead of trying to reply vocally, he nods his head to her empathically, smiling warmly. "Really? That makes me feel good. Hopefully your farm will do well then!" Jack smiles again, or smiles wider, the coherent side of his brain seemingly not working well at the moment, when he remembers one of the small souvenirs he picked up from the mountain pass as he walked into down. Reaching back with his gloved hand, Jack rummages for a second in his pack, drawing inquisitive eyes from the adults, who've turned from their conversation to watch.
From the confines of his pack, Jack produces a fresh, blossoming Toy Flower. The soft pastel yellow petals had just begun to open when he picked it on the crags in the morning, now they'd opened fully to reveal streaks of orange and white in the center of the flower. With a small gasp, Celia's eyes widen, "Oh! Those are my favorite! Is that for me?" With a barely perceptible nod, a bewildered Celia lifts the beautiful flower from Jack's hands, her fingers brushing at his gloves with a delicate grace. "Oh Jack! No one's ever given me flowers before. I'm in your debt." Slowly Celia tucks the flower into her apron, and after giving Jack a neat little bow, returns to her work in the house.
With a bemused smile, Jack turns and nods his thanks to Vesta and a now frowning Marlin, before strolling away with Takakura. They were well over the bridge and approaching the farm before Takakura broke the silence, "Well now. Surprises abound today." Jack just kept silent on that score.
"Well I'll meet you tomorrow then, bright and early to get started. I suspect we've got a lot of planting ahead of us in any case. Get a good night's sleep, and don't forget to read the notes on your bookshelf."
With a parting nod and wave of his hand, Jack stepped into his house and slipped the rucksack off his back, tossing the food onto the table. With a tired yawn and a kick of his shoes, Jack lay down on his bed to catch a quick nap. It seemed, as though coming to the Valley might've been a step in the right direction after all.
Author's Notes: And that is that. Yes I know the pacing is a little slow, and the way I write is sort of hackneyed and contrived (inside joke), but writing to me is an exercise in creativity and vision. Besides, if you can't have a little fun in writing without stressing, perhaps it's time to look into a number crunching job.