Fragmented Dreams

Chapter 12: Farmers Market

Judy clapped her hands together, a large smile on her face as she glanced between Grandpa and Casimir. "Which one of you strapping young lads would like to help me carry the last of the apple butter to the booth?"

"Oh, you finished?" Grandpa asked.

"Yep! New batch this morning!"

"I can help," Casimir offered.

Grandpa seemed a little disappointed but he nodded in agreement as he spoke. "I guess Casimir can grab the apple butter and I can run the last of the deliveries on my own."

"Watch out for Old Lady Frink, she's looking for you," Judy warned with a chuckle. Grandpa smiled dryly and I had to stifle a laugh. Mrs. Frink was the elderly woman who owned one of the souvenir shops in town. She sold postcards and other trinkets and was always chasing after Grandpa when she saw him. My grandfather never seemed interested in her advances but he also seemed hesitant to rebuke her openly.

We all parted ways, Casimir and Judy leaving to grab the apple butter as Grandpa and I said our goodbyes. I gave him a kiss on the cheek, telling him to drive safely before returning to the booth.

The market was slow to open but once the first ferry came in, the crowds arrived. Soon I was selling and answering questions about the town to any curious tourists who approached the booth. For some reason, I had the type of face that said, 'ask me about this town'. My grandfather would joke that I should work at the information booth near the ferry.

I stifled a yawn as I restocked a few jars of apple butter onto our table. There was a lull in business so I sat down in the chair, pulling out my book for English class. I knew I had at least two chapters to read before the weekend was over, so I might as well get to it.

"How much?"

I was pulled from my world of reading thanks to the new customer standing before me. I was a little weirded out because I hadn't even heard him approach. I looked up from my book, ready to comment on the price, but stopped short, momentarily struck by his appearance. The young man was tall, with light brown skin and hair a deep burgundy. He was obnoxiously gorgeous, with a broad nose, sharp jawline, and beautiful full lips. His eyes were a stunning hazel and I found myself staring into them as he stood there, waiting for my answer. What stunned me the most was the fact that he had elf ears and was holding a staff.

"Well?" he asked, a flirtatious grin crossing his face.

A sharp pain flashed shot my temple and I winced in pain. The feeling was so intense that I felt dizzy, if just for a moment.

Taya...Ae.... a voice whispered in my head.

My hand was shaking as I reached up to put pressure on the side of my face that was still stinging. Am I hearing voices? I wondered.

"Miss?" the young man called out, slightly more urgently. I glanced up at him only to find he had changed. The elf ears and staff were gone. He was looking at me quizzically, I'm sure, concerned by my long pause and the intense look on my face. I was staring at him now, amazed at his normal appearance.

Okay, not 'normal', he's super hot, I mumbled internally. I realized my insomnia must have caught up to me because there was no way this guy had elf ears and a giant stick a few seconds ago. "Um, the apple butter is five dollars," I finally managed to respond.

The young man picked up a nearby jar, squinting down at the label as he debated the cost. While he was distracted I greedily continue my inspection. His burgundy hair was long, even longer than Casimir's, trailing down past his mid-back. I decided it had to be dyed because no one on Earth had a hair color like that without chemical help. What I found most fascinating was the ornate braids and plaits woven into his ponytail, you rarely saw a hairstyle that fancy on a guy around here. For his clothing he wore an open black double-breasted coat, exposing his plain white t-shirt underneath. I could see a silver chain around his neck flash brightly in the sunlight. His jeans were shiny dark grey and full of holes held up by thick black belts, dotted with studs. I couldn't see his shoes from behind the booth but imagined he wore large boots favored by the alternate crowd. He seemed almost familiar but I couldn't place his face. His husky voice brought me back into the moment.