Spring, Year 4

23 1 0
                                    

"She's old, and it's about time she died." Clint huffed angrily. My jaw dropped as I realized what he said and especially how he said it. His tone was raw and deep, something that I had not heard from him before. I always thought of Clint as someone who practiced his words carefully, maybe rehearsed them in his old mirror, but what he just said- was too real.

Every moment with Clint had been one of convenience. He was just there, and I just needed to talk to someone. I needed to vent, and he had the perfect quiet countenance without a single sense of judgment. Not like Sebastian or Shane. Although Shane was just as convenient to talk to, his outer shell was too thick to prod at and observe. Clint liked to be honest, and I liked honesty.

"You shouldn't say that," I whispered. No one was in Clint's humble store. No one really needed his business besides me. "You barely know Pam. She really wants to turn around."

Clint huffed once more and stood to go to his work station. He moved quickly, his thick apron already equipped on his chest.

"Did she tell you that? Did you believe her when she said it?" His back was still turned. He started pressing the fire fan. "Just look at the way she treats Penny. You've seen it, haven't you? Penny's all alone in this world just because Pam drinks away everything. At first she blamed it on not having a job. Then the buses got fixed, and she blamed living in the camper. Then what happens; Some good samaritan pays to build her a house. Now she's out of excuses, isn't she? She just keeps drinking."

My lip quivered. I knew it was true, but Clint had crossed the line.

"You really are immature, you know that?" I steamed at him. He stopped pushing the heavy windbag.

"I know Pam more than you think. I've lived here my whole life, remember?" He turned around slowly. "I also know it was you who paid for her house."

I started to speak, but he had his mind set on expressing himself.

"It wasn't hard to piece together. I thought that maybe Robin did it because she hated seeing the van in the middle of town, or maybe, just maybe from the kindness of her heart, but you and I know she can't pay for those materials. It cost a fortune to buy a house let alone build one."

He straightened in his righteous monologue.
"I thought maybe the Mayor himself would like to get her a better house. But you and I both know that even though he can definitely afford it, he would spare the expense. So that leaves you, farmer. The richest philanthropist in Stardew Valley."

My silence spoke for itself. Perhaps I looked a little ill. He exhaled and shrugged his large shoulders. His eyes relaxed and reflected the light of the hearth beside him.

       "You are better than me," he sighed out, his deep voice relaxing to the aloof attitude I had known for three years. He got back to work silently, never placing his stone eyes on me.

        The air outside was just beginning to adjust to the temperature of the sun, the cold ground absorbing the moisture from past snow. Walking out from the black smith, I carried three familiar stones and a mango sapling that Clint had been generous enough to release from the 'geodes', as he called them. It was only 25 gold per geode, and it had been for the four years since I moved there. Even after making him a new forge, he still expected me to pay full price. Typical.

        Outside, Chernard waited patiently, happily nudging his head against my chest. His chestnut coat shined gold in the spring sun, emphasizing his toned muscles that had lugged me around the town for years. My horse, named Chernard, of course. I didn't know where Chernard had come from. Some trainer outside of town that had teamed up with Robin to make better deals. I didn't know much about Chernard besides that, and that he was faster than I was. Even if I had wanted to pry, Robin wouldn't tell me anything. She was the best at keeping secrets like those.

Muddy Relations (Stardew Valley Fanfiction)Where stories live. Discover now