Chapter Text
Shane pressed the heel of his palm into his eye, pushing until he saw stars blinking in and out of view under his eyelids. The sounds of murmuring and glasses clinking drowned out any coherent thoughts he could muster in his drunken stupor. Trying to focus on anything other than the nausea beginning to rise in his stomach, his hand moving down from his eye to grasp the glass stein in front of him. Swill sat stagnant on the bottom of his glass, what beer there was mixed with his backwash had since warmed to room temperature. He swirled it in contemplation before setting it down, the last few drops seemingly not worth it. Feeling himself pushing the limit, he stood up slowly, hands pressing into the sticky wooden surface of the table, he dropped money onto it, zipping up his hoodie before making his way to the door. The spring air was fresh, but it never seemed to clear his lungs. He coughed quietly to himself, giving a hard sniff before moving to the cobblestone path and walking in a wobbly line back towards the ranch.
He was coming up almost a year now having lived here in this miserable bum fuck no where town. Pelican Town didn’t seem the same idyllic town he visited as a child, and now seemed almost sad. Overgrown foliage, homes that needed updating, outdated technology. It was what happened to small towns as time went on. Cities got bigger, bursting with opportunities; Small towns dwindled. He felt himself reflected in the sentiment, not that his life was ever set up for success, but he felt he was built to fall apart. He knew he was beginning to dwindle, and the thought didn’t bother him anymore. He wasn’t sure if it ever had, he never saw a future for himself, even as a kid.
He looked up to regard the stars. At least here they were bright. You could see the arm of the milky way, a smattering of glittering dots and milky hue across the deepest shades of navy. What he would have considered awesome as a child, he now felt were cold, distant, but they were supposed to be. The universe didn’t owe him anything. Looking back down to squint through his blurry vision. He had made this walk many times, he could do it completely plastered and blind folded, but keeping his head low seemed instinctual at this point, not to mention quelling the bile rising in his throat whenever he looked up for too long.
The lights in Marnie’s house had long been turned off, if she wasn’t up quietly reading in bed, she would be fast asleep. Jas would have been asleep hours ago. Good. He took his keys out of his pocket, fumbling through them, the metal softly jingling in his hands. His hand wavered as he tried and failed four times to stick the key into the lock, turning it slowly until he felt the click more than heard it. Once inside he closed the door, tried to re-lock it it, before realizing he left the keys in the door. He grew frustrated with the numbing feeling of the alcohol permeating his cells. He opened the door, yanking the keys out and dropping them onto the small end table by the door, locking the knob. He slid off his shoes, and unzipped his hoodie, shrugging it off and dragging it towards his room. Light from Marnie’s nightstand light spilled under her door into the hallway. She had probably heard everything, had probably stayed up reading to pass the time until she heard him come home. He grimaced, walking into his room and closing the door quietly.
He yanked off his shirt, dumping the dirty garment unceremoniously onto the floor. His foot knocked an empty can as he shuffled to his bed, sitting onto the edge with a slight creak of the mattress springs. Fumbling for the phone charger, and plugging in his phone, the screen glowed, a crack obscuring the view.
2:16 AM
He blinked at the numbers on the screen, taking a moment to take in what they meant. He had to be up for work in four hours. Where the hell had the time gone? He thought he had left the bar earlier then that. He set the phone down on his mattress, flopping back with his eyes closed, his brain careening through the dark.
———————
She was staring at the ceiling before her alarm went off, her long poorly manicured nails raked through and gently scratching Clark’s scruff. The small pug gave a loud grunting snore, not ready to be up for the day. 6 AM was too early. “Same hunny bun.” She said quietly turning off the alarm with a small click of her nail against the phones glass. Clark’s ears perked before relaxing again, nuzzling his head back down. She sat up slowly, staring at the soft quilt, rubbing her eyes with the sides of her fingers, her stomach giving a small growl. “Okay.” she grunted as she swung her legs off the side of the bed, standing up calmly. Hitting the faucet handle up to turn on the water, she placed her kettled under the stream of cold water. She moved from the sink while it filled, turning the starter on her gas stove, hearing the soft clicks before the quick whoosh of the flames, turning them down to a blue flame. She turned the faucet of her sink off, sliding and lining up the lid of the kettle and snapping it into place. Setting it onto the fire, a light hiss of water evaporating.
She heard the loud thump, and the brisk little click clack of nails on wood as Clark made his way to the kitchen, the promise of breakfast the only thing strong enough to motivate the obstinate animal to get out of bed so early. She yawned, moving to his bag of kibble as if she were automated. Clark’s small curled tail wagged a little as he stood by his bowl, looking up at her with his smushed face, large eyes oogling the food scoop in her hand. She dumped it into his bowl with a clatter, taking comfort in the crunching noises he made. The kettle whistling gently snapped her from her daze.
She opened the front door, Clark zooming out to bark at crows that seemed undeterred by the scare crow amongst the sprouting crops. She looked at her nails, knowing she would have to cut them, shedding another part of her she had kept since moving from the city. She knew she had been trying to hold onto it. She moved out here to escape it, but cutting it out cold turkey was proving to be more difficult than she had thought. She sipped her coffee, at least she still had Clark.
Her small apartment had only allowed smaller dogs, and while she didn’t mind cats, her younger sister had dropped Clark into her lap, having found him by a dumpster one evening when she had went to take out her trash. How could she say no? She knew Clark was in no way a farm dog. He was too small, too rotund to do any real damage, but he was her little family, she wasn’t going to leave him behind. She watched as he started to roll in a dusty patch of dirt, sneezing and snorting as it clouded up.
“Hey!” she snapped, knowing full well he was going to try and bring that into her bed. “If you’re going to sleep inside on my bed you’re not bringing in any of that.” she said, the dog seemingly having zero care as he rolled onto his belly. She moved back inside, leaving the main door open. She dumped her empty mug into the sink, giving it a quick rinse over before leaving it in the basin.
“What do I need to do today…” she mumbled to herself, moving to the wardrobe in her bedroom, yanking out a t-shirt and an old pair of jeans. “Ah…” she said, remembering “I have to talk to Robin about that coop.” she said. She didn’t own any animals aside from Clark, and the idea of any cows, goats, or pigs was a bit too much just yet. Chickens were small, and certainly spunky enough to ward Clark off if he dared try anything. Not that he would. The silly dog was too easily spooked by plastic bags, what would he do to a chicken? The thought of taking on more seemed a little daunting, but the thought of fresh eggs was enough to motivate her to get it done.
Grandpa had chickens, she remembered. A nice sized clutch. She remembered being frightened of them as a small girl, only watching her Grandpa brave the pecks of brooding hens as he dug underneath them, pulling out bright colored eggs.
“You get used to it. Or you find a way to get around it.” he would say, wiping them down with a cloth before placing them into a soft towel lined basket. She remembered the blue, grey, and even soft jade of some of the eggs, looking like pastel colored stones.
She slid the heather grey t-shirt over, the emblem of her university printed in maroon on the chest. Her jeans slightly loose around her waist, she tucked in the pockets, and pulled at a loose thread at the hem of her shirt. She noticed the few freckles appearing on her forearms. “Fuck, maybe I need sunscreen.” she said, noting the slight deepening of her skin tone. Pulling her dark blond hair into a hasty braid, she let it flop to the side, a few strands slid out, and she quickly tucked them behind her ears. She jumped at the sound of Clark barking, and she hurried to her screen door, sliding on her boots as quickly as she could, nearly crashing her shoulder into the door frame.
“Oh my God!” she heard outside, the voice of a woman. Oh fuck, Clark. “What on earth is that thing?” she heard, a hint of amusement in the voice. Opening it she found a woman who must be in her late forties, curly brown hair framing her face, she was knelt down giving Clark a good rub down, his dumb scrunched up face panting.
“Oh-“ Piper said, voice cutting out.
“Sorry about that!” the woman called, standing back up. “I just wanted to stop by to introduce myself, since we’re neighbors and all. I hadn’t had a chance to really talk.”
“Oh!” she said, giving her head a quick shake before making her way down her porch steps, her hand making its way up to shake the woman’s. “Right. Uh, my name is Piper.” she said softly, shyly.
“Marnie.” she replied with a reassuring smile, grasping Pipers hand and giving a firm shake. Marnie held her hand a moment, turning it over to look at it. “I see.” she said amused “You really haven’t been here long.” she chuckled. Piper looked down, seeing the comparison. Marnie had farm hands. Blunted nails, though clean, and calloused fingers, and a strong grip.
“Yeah.” she agreed, a small half smile “Maybe with time I’ll get there.” she remarked regarding her own hand briefly before letting it fall to her side. “So you’re from…” she trailed looking behind Marnie towards Cindersap Forest.
“Yes, I own the ranch just south of you, only a fifteen minute walk.” she said, “So never hesitate to come by, say hello.” she smiled, looking down at Clark sniffing at the dirt on her boots. “So, you’re dog…” she started.
Piper looked down for a moment, then back up to Marnie “Oh, Clark?” she asked.
Marnie nodded “You should keep an eye out, coyotes, hawks and such.” she said.
Piper paled slightly “O-Oh. Oh my god!” she blurted “I hadn’t even thought about that!” she said eyes darting up to bright blue sky.
Marnie chuckled “I mean, we’re isolated from the town, so we do see predators a bit more than the folks in town, but I do have some ways of deterring them.” She nodded “I can drop some stuff off for you this week, consider it a house warming gift”.
Piper nodded, her shoulders tensed still “Right. Yeah.” She nodded “Damn, I really hadn’t even thought of that.” she muttered to herself. She felt so stupid. She gave a small embarrassed smile placing a hand across her forehead feeling the heat from her flushing skin.
Marnie gave her shoulder a few friendly pats “Give it time.” she said “You’ll catch on, it’s all just a learning curve.” she said. “Well, I need to head back, cows don’t milk themselves.” she said with a raise her eyebrows, her brown eyes bright. “Do make sure you stop by sometime soon though, really, don’t be a stranger. It’s nice to have a neighbor close by again.” Piper nodded, at least Marnie was kind about this, she knew she stuck out like a sore thumb. A dumb city girl, trying to run a farm? Laughable. She didn’t even have the benefit of being thick skinned, though, she more or less was numbed to most of the stimulus life liked the throw at her.
Marnie seemed to have some faith in her though, and that brought a small ounce of reassurance to her, her shoulders relaxing a little. “Of course, I might be seeing you soon, you sell chickens, correct?”
Marnie nodded “Yup. Best ones you can buy in the tri-county area!” she beamed proudly.
“Excellent. When Robin finishes my coop I’ll be sure to head on over.” she smiled.
——————————
After Marnie had left, Piper scooped Clark up, giving a few worried glances towards the sky, the edges of her farm. Depositing the dog onto the floor of her living room, she grabbed her wallet from the kitchen counter, stuffing her keys and phone into her pockets. “Okay buddy.” she said looking down at the dog who had managed to form itself into a misshapen loaf. “Watch the house while I’m gone? I’ll be back for dinner.” she said, closing the door behind her, locking it and giving her crops a once over, plucking a few weeds before heading to the side of her house, hands gripping her handle bars of her bike.
She never owned a car, didn’t even own a drivers license. She relied on public transit in the city, and if she was too broke for the subway or bus, she rode her trusty bike. It was her only mode of transportation here in Pelican Town. She wasn’t quite sure what she was going to do come winter. She kicked the kickstand up, straddling the bike and letting it roll away before churning her legs to get to a comfortable speed.
She wondered if they even plowed here. Probably not, how would they? They only had the one road, and that was in and out of town. Pelican Town had dirt roads, paths, cobble stone. Maybe they salted or shoveled… or maybe they just shut the town down during heavy snowfall.
She slowed as she got to the cobble stone of town square, having to stand to avoid bruising her ass on her bike seat. Squinting, the sun bright for so early in the morning. She realized she hadn’t been paying as much attention as she should, fingers suddenly squeezing the brakes of her bike, nearly flinging herself forward and over her handle bars as she just about collided with a man in a blue hoodie.
He was stock still, staring her down as she skidded to a halt. She gaped slightly, feet planting to the ground, her front wheel inches from him. He glowered, looking down at her tires, then her “‘Bout fucking time.” he snapped “You want to watch where you’re fucking going?” She managed a few startled noises, staring at him.
“I-I-“ she started.
“Just fucking look where you’re going.” he snapped his hazel eyes squinting in the bright sun, darkness under his eyes. He turned back around, headed for the bridge on the edge of the town square.
“…sorry.” she said, almost to herself. Fuck. Weren’t small town people supposed to be… nice? She took a deep breath in, her right foot placing back onto her bike pedal. She had been here a month, and somehow managed to never run into him. Had he always been here? He didn’t seem that much older than her, but she couldn’t say what age he was.
She pushed down, coming to a stand to help her put more strength into her pedaling. She had made it up the mountain path, stopping and propping her bike up onto the kick stand. Entering Robin’s front door, she was greeted by the cheery carpenter. “Hey!” she called from behind her counter, shuffling work orders on he desk in front of her computer. “Long time no see!” she smiled.
Piper wiped the sweat from her brow, her cheeks still pink from the exertion. “Hey.” she said nearly out of breath.
Robin chuckled “You rode your bike here, huh?” she asked.
Piper nodded, placing a hand on her ribs, “Yup.” she gasped “Just need a sec to catch my breath.” she winced at the slight cramp forming in her lower rib. At least the ride down would be pleasant, refreshing.
Robin busied herself stuffing the shuffled forms into a folder, filing them away in a clunky old filing cabinet. “What brings you in?” she asked finally.
“Chicken coop.” Piper said, resting up against the counter. “I finally have the wood, and stone.” she said, holding up her hands to show the chips and breaks on her nails.
Robin tsked slightly “When are you going to cut those?” she asked, folding her own hands on the counter in front of her.
“I don’t know, probably as soon as I get home. They look like shit, huh?” she gave a small half hearted smile. Robin raised her brows, eyes lidding slightly as if to say, you said it, not me. Piper nodded in silent agreement. They really did, and it hurt like hell whenever she broke one.
“So a coop! That’s exciting!” Robin grinned “You have all the materials on your farm?”
Piper nodded, “Yup, and I got the money here.” she said pulling her wallet out, pulling out the bills.
“Oooooh!” Robin teased, taking the bills “In cash and all.” she said chuckling.
Piper rolled her eyes slightly “I ate fuck all for a month for that.” she said, “These chickens better be worth it.”
“They will be.” Robin said, typing something onto her computer, her mouse clicking, the printer next to her computer whirring and clicking before printing out a contract. “Okay, well, all I need is a signature, and I can start as soon as tomorrow. You got a spot in mind?”
Piper nodded, take a pen from the mug of writing utensils. “Yeah, I’ll also be there tomorrow morning in case. No plans to go anywhere.” she said, as if Pelican Town were a bustling metropolis of sights to see. Robin slid the contract across the counter, and Piper gave the pen a few test scribbles before sloppily writing her name. Piper Williams.
Robin peered over “…Your signature is worse than Harvey’s.” she teased.
Piper slid the paper back over “Worse than a doctors?” she asked, giving a half smile. “Sounds about right. No one works on penmanship these days.” she said matter of factly.
Robin shrugged “I suppose so.” she agreed, tucking a lock of her red hair behind her ear.