Somewhere Only We Know ✨

P2- Salamanders and Tangerines

Sand clung to the linen shirt Hammy threw on, once flared sleeves becoming tired and droopy with age. He didn't bother to push down the ginger tufts of hair that sprawled out from his fidgety sleep, just like how he never bothered to fix the various rips in his trousers. But he still winked at himself in the vanity, like he did every morning. Heavens help him if anyone- especially Stella- ever found out.

Swinging the door open, he called down to her,
"Have you had any breakfast?"
"Feel free to find me some!" A preoccupied voice called back to him.
He frowned, "What are you doing?"
"Mixing!"
"Mixing?" Muttering to himself, he ran down old pine stairs, "What happened to brewing-"

And sure enough, there Stella sat behind the bar in the tavern, hunched over a large ceramic bowl over a fire, stirring juniper berries into the homemade vodka from the back. Hammy let his eyes squint slightly, wrinkling his nose at the all too familiar stench.
"You're just making more gin."

In a quiet judgement, he stared as her eyes began to twinkle.
"Not just gin... watch."
Proudly, she pushed a hand down into a pouch, and pulled out a handful of rotund blue-ish berries- presenting them as if they were the very queen's jewels.

"Bilberries." She began to crush them with a mortar and pestle, "The Foragers downtown gave them to me. In other parts of the world, all these would have already been eaten already by bears. I've heard it's their favorite food."

"We're stealing from the bears now?"
"I'm sure we need it more than they do." She rolled her shoulders back and nodded to herself, "This is going to bring buisiness back. Along with the deliveries of course."

With a light chuckle, she nudged him over to a satchel full of beers, ales, vodkas and gins. Hammy sighed lazily. The bag seemed heavier than usual...

"We're delivering to the Foragers now. As a thank you."

A large part of Hammy's mind began to groan, but he felt his curiosity take over in defiance.
"What are they like, the Foragers? I've never been all the way down to the Moors."
"I'm sure you'll see."
Stella's attention seemed to run out, as she shooed him out the door, returning to her beloved bilberries.

So he began to make his way downtown, satchel in arm, and sun readily rising up the sky.

Shadows cast from the Inn and the Townhall loomed behind him as he set off on the old dirt path. Unlike all the other buildings, the Council had decided to build these two with brick, as the only commodities the town had. The rest of the buildings, mainly houses, were made of birch or pine, all cluttered together closer to the beach where the husbands and fathers would work, whilst the Townhall and Inn would sit above it all on the cliffside.

The outlines of homely cabins got more and more bold as Hammy walked further fowards down the hill until eventually he was stood in the middle of them all. Almost seeming to come to an end, other than a previous fork down to the piers, and a small overgrown trail that led down to the Moors, the dirt path finished with a half broken flag pole- accompanied by a limp national flap.

Off-shoots from the dirt path led to houses, which all circled it, whilst keeping their distance from eachother. His favorite house to deliver to was at the farthest end from the path, so he left that for last. Impatiently knocking on each of the cabins, he could hardly contain his excitement when he finally reached that house.

Not just a house- but a bakery.

"Penny!" He nearly screamed when she opened the door, pulling her in for a big hug, "You look well."
And she did; hair pulled gently away into a scarf, which nestled around her neck and fell around a juniper green dress and apron, newly washed and imbued with a scent of wood ash. Previous eye bags had even seemed to fade under healthier tanned skin.

A smooth smile spread itself across her face, not reaching old laugh lines from younger and more passionate years, but just as genuine.
"A new shipment of eggs came in last week. Ever since then, I've been able to relax."

Even Hammy felt his body ease up a bit as he heard that, releasing a breath it felt like he spent weeks holding.

"You've been able to relax even with three kids?" Jokingly, he prodded her arm.
"More like four." She poked back at him. "You don't think I know you only offer to do deliveries here for free cakes?"
"I come here out of my intense love for you- you're my favorite person in the entire world!"
"You even talk like my kids." Snorting, she hushed him into the bakery. "But I suppose I'll manage. What will you be having today?"

In some sort of meditative trance, Hammy carefully regarded the baked goods. Fat biscuits and chewy looking pastries sat around on plates, but standing out from it all was the shining, outstanding juniper berry cake, on a painted clay platter.

His mouth began to nearly water, and he was about to turn to Penny to ask, when a door banged open on the other side of the room.

"Uncle Ham!"
Stumbling through the doorway, a group of boys clamored towards him- all three of them with their hair jelled up in tiny spikes with honey and buck teeth. Sickly sweet stench filled up the room, in harsh contrast to the angry, ravenous, bored eyes of the boys, searching for any sort of entertainment.

One clung to his leg,
"Mama won't let us go see Papa down by the beaches."
Another began to shove biscuits into his mouth,
"It's because he's working, that's what she says."
The final one poked at his hair absent-mindedly, and reached over to whisper in Hammy's ear,
"Papa's a fisherman. The most important job on the island."

In the corner of his eye, Hammy could see Penny taking deep breaths to prepare the oncoming lecture. A corner of his lip twitched with amusement.
"Remind me again who's who? It's hard to tell, identical triplets and all." He pointed at them in all procession, "Quillo, Bucky and Spike?"
The one with his mouth now full of biscuits made muffled noises of protest, and the one clung to his leg added in,
"He says that he's Spike, not Bucky. You can tell Bucky is Bucky because he did his spikes all uneven. And I'm Quillo!"
Bucky continued to poke at his hair, but this time with a hint of insecurity.

"So please tell me, why you've used all my honey in your hair?"
Wrapped up in all their chaos, the boys must have forgotten Penny was there. They all turned to her slowly, eyes wide and mouths agape. Hammy had to try his hardest stifle a chortle as he watched Spike attempt to swallow all those biscuits to cry out excuses- Bucky beat him to it- and his whole face scrunched together in agitation.

"You remember those old stories Papa used to tell us, you said he got them from gossiping all day instead of working," Bucky's voice was painfully slow and off into the distance, whilst Spike fought with biscuits in a hope to get him to shut up, "Well, he said that one day, when he had a really good ship, that one day he sailed really far from home, all the way to the middle of the ocean. But it wasn't just the ocean, because he said, he found this island, and on the island there was these people. And he told me, these people had their hair in really really big spikes. He said they could even reach the stars if they wanted to, or maybe the sky or even the sun! And we thought-"

"We are warriors! Papa told me they were warriors and now we're warriors Mama, to protect you and the pier!" Spike's finally cried out, voice burning hot with indignation.

Mumbling agaisnt his leg, Quillo joined in.
"To protect from the demons that steal our food."

From a corner in the room, Penny let out a heavy sigh. "Go on then, go see Papa. You know the way right?" They nodded. "We'll talk about this later." Turning towards Hammy, she gestured towards two chairs, "I'm tired. Leave me to talk with Uncle Ham, okay boys?"

As soon as they ran off into the wild, she slumped into a chair, and Hammy giggled to himself elsewhere.