Archive of Our Own

Year 5, Fall. 

"You...you snake!"

"Who ya callin' a snake, Pierre? Why, you oughta be thankin' me! You tol' me yourself you weren' sure Abigail was yours. You jus' never had th' courage t' check. You want somebody t' blame, Caroline done cheated an' lied on you your whole marriage. Ha! Look at 'er go. Ev'n now, she runs-n-hides. Ah, DNA don' lie, though. An' if you think I'm lyin', you're mooooore than welcome t' take another test. They're awful easy t' do. Jus' swab th' inside'a your cheek," said Aina, shoving a hooked finger into her own mouth and rolling it against her cheek before removing it with a crude pop. "Like you did with my forks an' spoons."

Pierre's fist rose dangerously close to the level of Aina's mouth. "Why, I oughta—"

Aina clapped her hands in challenge. "W-wha'cha gonna do, Pierre? Huh? You gonna whoop me? Mr. Former-Big-Shot-Boxer-Man?" Clap! "Go ahead! Gimme your best shot! I—I deserve it, don't I?"

Elliott toppled his chair as he dashed around the table, his vision growing as crimson as the trees surrounding their town. "Don't you dare lay a finger on her—!"

Leah's hand around his wrist halted him with a jolt. "Elliott, stop!"

"Leah—!"

"He's not gonna do it. Pierre would never hit a woman. Look..."

Panting and red as the leaves twisting around them on the wind, Pierre lowered his half-cocked fists to his hip, glaring at Aina through eyes brimming with tears. "W...why are you doing this? W-w-what in the hell did we do to deserve this?"

Aina tilted her head toward the dumbstruck crowd, or what was left of it after all her revelations. "Why? What for? I jus' told you. You stole from me, Pierre. You stole from me. An' you smeared me. I let it go first time you did it. Hoped you'da learned your lesson. But twice? Twice? An' that's twice I know of. You shouldn'ta done that. A-an' Caroline...an' Marnie...an' 'specially Lewis...they shouldn'ta let you."

From the right of the stage, Lewis turned away from his golden reflection staring him down. He tipped his hat over his reddening face with a scowl. "You never should have come here. Your grandpa is rolling over in his grave."

Aina cracked a manic smile, teeth flashing like those of a shark. "Ahaha. Ya know what, Lewis? You may be right 'bout that. 'Cause this town...is rotten. Its people are rotten. An' me? Ahahaha...I'm th' rottenest of 'em all. You can't hurt me no more. None'a you can."

She stretched her arms out wide to the crowd, condemning them all with her embrace. "Ahahaha! Welcome t' Pelican Town!" she spat. "Where th' men're selfish cowards...an' th' women're connivin' strumpets. An' ain't a pelican in sight." The gentle breeze from minutes ago collapsed, red and brown leaves dropping from the air like poisoned flies gasping in vain at everyone's feet. The debate had ended with all losers. 

The stage rattled with each stomp of her feet. "Here. My collection'a notes 'bout ev'rybody in this damn town," Aina huffed to the first reporter to meet her at the bottom of the left set of steps. "Do with 'em what you want." With an obstinate jerk of her head, she shoved the folder into hungry hands and shoved herself past the stunned crowd, past the cameras and microphones buzzing with questions cut down before they could be formed. 

Only as she sank from view down the dirt path toward Bale Farm did Leah release him, and only then did Elliott regain enough command of his body to will it to chase after his turtledove. 

"Aina? Aina!"

"Go away!"

"Please, stop! I just want to—"

The brush of his fingertips against her shoulder pulled from her a scream fierce enough to stop them both in their tracks and piercing enough for him to clap his hands over his ears. She jerked away like his touch had burned her. His mistake. 

As she paused to catch her breath, Elliott slowly removed his hands from his ears. "I'm sorry. It's just...Aina. W-what happened up there…?"

Her face, normally full and soft and brown like terracotta, had grown so dark that it bordered on the purple of impending dusk. Staggering away from him, she gasped, "Wha'cha mean, what happ'ned? You saw it all, didn't ya? Heard it all, too!"

"Y-yes, but…the senses aren't always right! They can't tell me why you would…it was like as soon as Lewis said all those despicable things about you, you disappeared. And a different woman took your place at the podium—"

She turned away. "No. You got it wrong. That lady cuttin' ev'rybody down an' carryin' on up on stage…that was me. That was all me. Th’ real me." Her coral clip-on earrings glistened in the late afternoon sun as brightly as did the tears in her honey-gold eyes when she turned back around to regard the creases in his brow. The shadows from the trees on either side of them crawled aside as if to give her room. Either that, or to let the sun shine on her fully, showing Elliott all her stark reality. 

Her hands wrung in front of her. "I…am nothin' like who you thought I was. An' that ain't your fault. I…I lied t' you."

Against his better judgment, he reached out to her again. "Darling, don't say that—"

"Like I lie to ev'rybody!"

He froze at the palm she thrust into his face as she turned away once more. "Can’t you see it now? Your star is a black hole. Your beauty is a beast. Your turtledove….ahahaha!" Her whole body shook with that same cruel, broken laughter she'd given to the rest of the town in her closing remarks. "Sh-she ain't no dove. She's a turtle. A big mean ugly angry snappin' turtle. Wigglin' her tongue t' lure you in, an' then crushin' you in 'er jaws when you get close enough," she snarled. 

"You better leave her be. Before she gets you next." With hunched shoulders and fists shaking at her sides, she resumed her march to Bale Farm. "Good-bye, Elliott."

"W-what? Aina...Aina, wait!" How could she just walk away? Didn't she realize by now that she carried his heart with her at all times? Elliott's voice cracked in his throat as he clutched the space on his chest where his heart pounded and cried out to her: "You still have my heart! Come back…please! Please, don't—don't do this to me."

Aina spun around one last time to glare at him with all the ferocity of her inner snapping turtle, eyes bright and sharp and reddening with tears and fury and despair he barely began to understand. "To you? To you!? Course this’s all ‘bout you, somehow. W-w-why else would you ask Lewis to a duel but to make shit all ‘bout you? Y—you jus’ like ev’rybody else. You don’ love me. You never did. You love a version o’ me I made up so you’d like me. You love what I do for you. Well, I’m done pr’tendin’ t’ be somethin’ I ain’t. So there! Go…go take your heart back, an' get you a new muse." She mimed ripping open her chest and tossed the empty space in her hand at him. "Get away from me!"

As if it were that simple. Yes, Elliott had loved others before her, and he always did eventually get his heart back whenever it had ended—if only because he'd had no better choice. But this time...

Elliott would have wept then and there if only he'd had the privilege. Instead, the obscenity-laden howls of George sliced through the dark clouds descending over Elliott's spirit, accompanied by the cries of Harvey and Alex and Evelyn. For now, he could, and would have to, distract himself from the pain by offering neighborly aid. 

The elder had also gone after Aina, presumably to give her a piece of his mind for blaming him and his wife for their daughter's death. In his haste, he had steered his wheelchair into a pothole—one of the multitudes he and others had complained to Lewis about—and tumbled out of it, shattering an arm on impact. 

And so, the debate officially ended with the roar of a helicopter escorting Harvey and the Mullners to Zuzu General. 

She can kill with a smile,
She can wound with her eyes,
And she can ruin your faith with her casual lies.

And she only reveals what she wants you to see.
She hides like a child,
But she’s always a woman to me.

"You look awful," said Leah, reaching over from across their table to take his hand into hers. "Even your hair looks like it's had the life drained from it. Have you slept at all?" 

Try as he had to make himself up before coming to the saloon, Elliott could not fool his friend. Rather than answer her question directly, he used his limp locks as a shroud for the dark circles surrounding his eyes. Indeed, it had taken a great deal of energy this morning just to brush the knots from his mane. "How can I sleep?" he mumbled, weakly squeezing her hand. "She won't answer me, Leah. I've tried everything: letters, phone calls, care baskets...nothing has reached her. I get abyssal silence in return. I know she's at least alive because her farm has appeared well-kept every time I see it. But I haven't seen her at all," he sniffed. "The river won't tell me where she is. Neither will the trees, nor her animals." 

"Can't blame you for worrying. I've been having trouble reaching her, too." 

Elliott stared at the cursive inked into the table. Aina & Elliott. He'd written this on the night they'd drank and danced together for the first time, dizzy with ale and affection. The combined vowels in their names (six) had enchanted him, the combined syllables (five, her favorite number) striking him like an omen of better times to come. "To our friendship," they'd toasted. The memory coated his tongue like the last spoonful of her homemade pomegranate jelly, thick and sharp and tart. 

Yes, it had been much too soon to be thinking about a future together, back then. But Elliott had been starving for companionship, for inspiration. He had come to the valley to find the ivory tower from which his talents could reign supreme. Instead, he'd found a dungeon of loneliness. She had saved him from that. By being there for him in a way few ever had, in a way not even Leah could always do—

"You don’ love me. You never did. You love a version o’ me I made up so you’d like me. You love what I do for you."

Oh, no. Have I taken from you more than I've given?

Is that where you got that idea?

With a shaky sigh, he pressed his cheek against the graffiti. Bless Gus for never getting around to erasing it! "I just...can't understand how she could think that I don't love her. I was fully prepared to duel Lewis for her honor! And take those blows from Pierre. But the way she looked at me...like I'd humiliated her, too..."

"Only Aina knows for sure what was going through her mind, then. But if I had to take a guess, she probably saw it as you reveling in the drama more than sticking up for her. I know you meant to defend her, but I also know she never liked grand romantic gestures like that. Remember last Spirit's Eve, when you said you'd protect her from those monsters?" Despite their mutual unease, a smile teased at Leah's lips at the memory. "Aina got so mad at you that she dropped her sword at your feet and jumped into the cage with them. Freaked everyone out with that stunt!" 

"Well? Wha'cha waitin' for, man? Run my blade through these bags'a bones!"

"Must you remind me?" groaned Elliott, covering his head with an arm as he burned from his ears to his shoulders. But in his aching heart, he knew it was necessary. For only then could he understand why Aina had turned on him as she had. 

For the same reason she had yelled at him for his attempt to re-enact the climactic train station scene from his novel the fall before that. 

“Woo me? W-with somebody else’s words, meant for somebody else c’mpletely?”

Aina's outburst had not come from nowhere. None of them had. They all came from a place of anguish deep as bone that refused to stay hidden no matter how hard Aina laughed or how often she smiled. A fear of insincerity that could never be placated. A pain that she had at best alluded to when around him. 

Or maybe he hadn't listened to her quite as well as he'd thought? Maybe he'd only heard the parts that served him and his ego?

"Felt like ev’ry day I came in, I had to—to put on a mask I couldn’ breathe right in."

"What didja want me t' do? P-pretend to be a damsel in distress so's you could feel like a manly man for an hour or two? I fight real monsters ev'ry dang time I go down th' mines. I done faced monsters back in th' city, too. Only those ones still had beatin' hearts...an' faces like ours."

"...an’ if you’da paid a mite of attention to who I am instead’a who you want me t’ be, you’d know that!"

"Leah? I—is it my fault she blew up on everyone?" 

"Of course not! Even if you did mess up by challenging him to a duel, Lewis started the whole thing. And Aina finished it. Don't think for a second this is in any way your fault." Leah let go of his hand to slap her own once against the table. "That's it. I'm gonna track her down tomorrow. It's not fair of her to keep ignoring everyone after what she did. It's unfair to you, most of all." 

"I agree," said Emily, coming up to them with their orders. A salad for Leah, and a cup of the daily special, Tom Kha soup, for Elliott. "But we've got to be careful. Aina is hurting as much as the rest of us. I don't like what she said about everyone here." Emily turned her head to frown at the empty seat behind them where Pat used to drink every night. "But I could sense it coming from a place of anger that's been bottled up for too long. Lewis happened to open that bottle. Now she's hiding because she's ashamed. If we're too harsh with her, she'll just run farther away."

Leah raised her fork and an eyebrow. "We?"

"Sure. I'm coming with you. She's my twin. I need to see her, too." 

As soon as Emily's Henna-tattooed hand was free, Elliott took it. Another friend he'd made here, thanks to the woman they were all talking about. "Thank you, Emily. You too, Leah. I'm indebted to you both!" 

Emily beamed back at him. "Don't mention it. We're all friends, here. I'll be back with more water. Try to drink some, okay?"

She had a point. It was a bad idea to drink ale when he was already so morose. Alcohol magnified whatever emotion he felt at a given time. Dabbing away the tears from his eyes with a napkin, Elliott inhaled the scent of shrimp and spiced coconut milk to soothe his soul and awaken his appetite. Gus's home-style cooking deserved all the accolades...but it could never replace Aina's take on the soup. Hers was richer and had more vegetables and mushrooms. 

He must eat. If not for his own sake, then for Leah's and Emily's. And even if she wasn't here to coax him, for Aina's, too. 

When Emily reappeared with their drinks, Leah raised her glass as if to make a toast. "I know it doesn't feel like it, but...happy birthday, Elliott."

Sniff. "Th-thanks, Leah," he mumbled with a forced smile, half-raising his glass in return. 

She can lead you to love,
She can take you or leave you.
She can ask for the truth,
But she’ll never believe you.

And she’ll take what you give her as long as it’s free.
Yeah, she steals like a thief,
But she’s always a woman to me.

Three days later, Elliott stepped outside his cabin and locked his door, intent on visiting the library to nurse himself with literature. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted the flag set upright on his mailbox. With a swell of cautious optimism, he moved over and opened it to notice a single envelope inside, green as spring grass. The turtle etched into the purple wax seal made his heart leap into his throat. 

The seal of Bale Farm. 

His hands trembling, Elliott peeled the seal keeping the flap shut as carefully as he could. Then, with his thumb and pointing finger, he slid the five-page letter out of the envelope. Leaning against the front windowpane of his cabin, he unfolded the letter to find five 500-g bills and the following: 

Oh, she takes care of herself.
She can wait if she wants.
She’s ahead of her time.

Oh, and she never gives out,
And she never gives in—
She just changes her mind. 

Abigail glared down at the vibrant purple quartz in Elliott's palms like he was offering her clay. "What is this?" 

"Amethyst," answered Elliott, somewhat surprised Abigail would ask that when she was taking classes online in geology. Then again, he too had gone to school long ago and still made the foolish error of watering his plants with sea water. 

Abigail folded her arms over her chest and rolled her eyes. "I know what that rock is, you dork. I mean, what's the meaning of this? What're you giving this to me for?" 

Oh, dear. He had misinterpreted her question. The aisles of bookshelves elongated into hallways in his vision. With flushed cheeks and brow, Elliott cleared his throat. "It's from Aina. She asked me to give it to you as a belated birthday gift. She informed me it's one of your favorite things." 

Abigail's frown withered into a scowl. "Aaaaand, she couldn't give this to me herself because...?"

"I only know as much as she tells me. It's my understanding she has gone on a journey to, er, figure things out. She can't see either of us, right now. But this amethyst is intended to be a peace offering. One of many to come, I'm sure..."

"Didn't she dump you for challenging Lewis to a duel?" 

Elliott swallowed. This was not going at all like he'd hoped. Maybe it was too soon to try reconciling with Abigail? "Well, yes. But, er...it wasn't just about that. I'm not entirely sure how much I'm allowed to share with you, but—"

Abigail shook her head, cutting him off. "Wow. You really are a simp. She blows up my life as I know it and you're still kissing the ground she walks on? She's got you running around like you're her errand boy. After dumping you. That...is a whole new level of pathetic!"

"I'm sorry, Abigail. But you been lied to. Your pa an' your ma are cheats."

"I-I'm not saying what she did to you and your family was right! I just..."

Abigail held up a hand, palm facing him. "Save it. If she wants to buy my forgiveness, then she should have the decency to see me herself!" Then she pinched the spot between her icy blue eyes. "Nothing makes sense, anymore. My mom's insisting she's done nothing wrong...my dad—can I even still call him that?—he's buried his nose in the Internet looking for a lawyer to sue Aina...and Ras—it's like he wants all the benefits of being my bio dad for none of the work! Like it's perfectly fine he lied to me my whole life. They all suck! And so does she!" She paused, eyes widening. Perhaps in shock at having just vented to someone who was technically her love rival. "F—forget it. Forget I said anything! Just leave me alone." 

With a heavy heart, Elliott let her shove him aside to hide behind the bookshelves two rows down. 

"Oh, Abigail. I know it's hard to believe right now, but she still loves you," lamented Elliott to himself. "That's why she wanted me to give you this quartz. It's because she's sorry that she can't see you." 

No one had yet to ask, but it truly did not bother him that Aina could hold two people in her heart instead of only one. He'd known she was polyamorous since before they'd started dating. Indeed, he had been the first one Aina came to about Abigail admitting her feelings. She'd even nudged Elliott toward taking another lover of his own, so it would be "fair." But so far, he'd felt no need to do so. Pelican Town was small. He knew everyone by name by now (thanks in part to Aina), and so far the only person he could at any time envision having such a relationship with was Leah. But Leah didn't love him in that way, and that was all right. Her friendship was more than enough to make him happy. 

A "simp"? Him? Perhaps. But he just couldn't see the point in belaboring the wrongness of Aina's actions. She already knew it. She needed his help more than she needed his judgment. She and the world would punish her plenty, he speculated with a knot in his throat. 

As Elliott turned to leave—perhaps he could give the stone to Emily or Clint, instead?—he heard a pair of boots hurrying his way. He turned back around to find Abigail reaching out for him. Or for the amethyst, to be precise. She snatched it from him and took a massive hunk off one end of it with her teeth. Shock jolted through him at the act. "Good lord!" he yelped.

Aina hadn't kidded him when she'd said Abigail ate rocks. Then again, she seldom kidded about anything. 

"I'm hungry," Abigail grumbled between bites. "That's why I took it. Doesn't mean I've forgiven her. Got it?" 

"D—duly noted!" he sputtered. No wonder Aina had given her the nickname "Jaws"...

Once outside, Elliott saw two older dark-skinned men at the bridge. Visitors? They appeared lost. So he approached them with a bow from the waist. "Salutations," he greeted with his warmest smile. "Are you in need of direction?" 

The shorter of the men with a gray beard and braided, wiry hair smiled back. "Oh, hi. Uh, yeah, we're lookin' for th' blacksmith?" 

Elliott perked up at the accent. He'd heard it before, and he could never get enough of it. Could this man be...? 

"Ah! C-Clint. You're looking for Clint. You're on the right track. His forge is just behind our illustrious library, which is this building here. You need only to make a left 'round this corner and you'll see it."

The taller man in the yellow kufi cap and corn rows grinned, shifting the strap of his backpack back up his shoulder. "Told ya we were goin' the right way, Ekky! Many thanks, son."

"You're very welcome! I haven't seen you here before, so you must be visiting. In case no one has said so yet, welcome to Pelican Town!" 

"Where th' men're selfish cowards...an' th' women're connivin' strumpets."

Elliott shook the memory from his head. Aina hadn't meant that. Or if she had, it had only been for that moment. Anger unchecked had a knack for bringing out the worst in people. "My name is Elliott, by the way." 

The man in the cap lit up with recognition. "Elliott...wait! I've heard that name before. You wouldn't happen to be the Elliott, would you? Aina's boyfriend?" 

Elliott's face burned hot. His intuition had proven right. These two were part of her family. They must be "Daddy" and "Dad." "Um, well, ex-boyfriend, now. For the time being. It's not entirely clear where we are right now," he said, tucking a lock of his bright auburn hair back behind his ear. "I suppose you could say we're taking a break." 

The man in the braid stepped forward to hold out a hand, the smile hidden beneath his whiskers crinkling his honey-brown eyes. "Aina's told us an awful lot 'bout you. You're Pelican Town's famous novelist, yeah? I'm Ekta. This's my husband, Raza."

"We're her papas. In case that wasn't clear," said Raza with a wink.  

Elliott accepted Ekta's hand to shake. His hand was square and full. Like his daughter's. "I-it's a high honor to meet you, gentlemen!" he said, taking Raza's hand to shake as well. Raza's was warmer and firmer. "If only the timing was more pleasant. Er, I mean...how is she doing?" 

The smiles faded from both men's faces. "She doin' as well as she can be, giv'n th' circumstances," said Ekta. "She's back on the farm, restin'. We runnin' some errands for 'er." 

"We'll be stayin' here awhile, at least 'til she's back on her feet. We're takin' these geodes to the blacksmith for 'im to break open. It's for a secret project," said Raza, shaking his backpack to let the geodes clatter together. 

"Ah, I see. Well, um, I won't keep you long. Clint closes shop at 4:00, so you'd best get going if you can't wait until tomorrow. Oh, wait...tomorrow wouldn't work, either. Everyone closes for the annual fair." 

"Ha! Then we better go, Ekky! She was insistent we get this done today!" 

Ekta nodded. "Bye, Elliott. We'll catch up later, I reckon."

"Farewell, Mr. and Mr. Kichida," said Elliott with his friendliest wave. "Do give Aina my regards!"

In the back of his mind, he wondered: Is she planning to participate in the showcase? If she's including minerals in her grange display, that would explain their hurry...

The two men, hand in hand, stopped. "Hey, uh, Elliott?" called Ekta. 

"Yes...?"

"'Fore I forget...thank you, for standin' up for 'er. Even if ya had a funny way of doin' it. Thank you." 

And she'll promise you more
Than the Garden of Eden,
Then she’ll carelessly cut you
And laugh while you’re bleedin’!

But she’ll bring out the best
And the worst you can be.
Blame it all on yourself,
'Cause she’s always a woman to me.

As always, the fair opened to the public at 9:00 sharp. At first, Elliott wondered how Lewis was going to coordinate it with his, and Marnie's, current legal troubles. Either he had managed to put said troubles aside long enough to keep the fair back on in an effort to rehabilitate the town's image, or Robin and Gus and the others had pulled together and paid for the fair out of their own pockets. It was hard to say which it was, with his attention having been elsewhere lately. Elliott liked to think both had happened, somehow. If only because Aina had a point when she'd said she felt like the only person doing anything to save the town. 

At the very least, Lewis and Pierre and Marnie and everyone else were out and about. Regardless of all their other troubles, today was for showing off the best the valley had to offer to the outside world. Hopefully, they wouldn't be hounded with too many questions, such as who was the new mayor of Pelican Town (nobody), how long Pierre had known Abigail wasn't his (years), or how Lewis and Marnie were going to plea at their upcoming arraignments (Guilty, because it was easier to go with the charges than to fight them). Or whether the couple was still seeing each other since the debate last month (no; they had broken up the instant Marnie had torn down Lewis's lies). 

Despite his looking everywhere, Aina was nowhere to be seen. This would be her first missed fair since moving to the valley. 

The money she'd sent him burned a hole in his pocket, but what was the point of spending it on tokens? What was the point of fishing at the booth when she wasn't there to cheer him on or smile at the prize he would have picked for her?

So, she's not coming after all. I don't blame her for shunning the attention, but...

The last place he checked was the set of grange displays in front of Pierre's store. Between Pierre's display and Marnie's stood a barren box. Or...was it? Squinting against the buttery morning sun, Elliott noticed Lewis and Pierre standing in front of it, peering inside. That box was normally for Aina's showcase.

His heart skipping a beat, Elliott rushed over. "For God's sake, Pierre! Don't even think of tampering with her hard work!" 

Pierre glanced over his shoulder to regard him, but his face was blank with shock. So was Lewis's. Pinched in Lewis's fingers was a photograph.

"What's that you have there?" 

"Gotta be some kinda prank," mumbled Lewis, handing it over to Elliott. A closer look revealed an immaculate, roaring fireplace with six golden stars above the mantle. 

Elliott's brow furrowed. "Where is this from?" 

"The old community center," said Lewis. "But, that can't be right. Last time I stepped in there, it was full of rats. The main room looked nothing like this—"

"Aunt Marnie! Aunt Marnie, come quick!" cried Jas. 

When Marnie ran, so did Lewis and Pierre. They left Elliott with the photograph, on the back of which he found the following message in that familiar, endearing scrawl: 

What I you we should've done awhile ago.

Clutching it to his chest, he followed. 

For the six years Elliott had lived here, the community center had been neglected to the point of dilapidation. Lewis had allegedly been waffling on the prospect of selling it to Morris, who had intended to convert the building to a warehouse. Why Lewis had never thought to use the town's taxes toward its repair was a mystery (well, up until recently, with the reveal of his gold statue). 

But now? The community center had never looked lovelier. Its regal purple panels complemented the red, brown, and golden foliage surrounding it. The bok choy poked up proudly from the dark, rich soil within the window boxes by the entrance. Its clock ticked like it carried the heartbeat of the town itself. 

Everyone, resident and visitor, clamored inside. The pantry, the kitchen, the crafts room, the aquarium, the office, the bulletin board, the boiler room, the books...all admired as if seen for the first time. For those like Elliott, it was the first time seeing the center in all its glory! Sure enough, in the middle of the main room, between the aquarium and a bookcase, was the fireplace from Aina's photograph, stars and all. 

There could only be one explanation for this. 

Oh, Aina! This was the community project you were alluding to, wasn't it? How long...have you been working on this the whole time? 

Beside him, Lewis took off his hat and scratched his head. "I'll be darned. I don't know how she did it, but the community center has never looked better..."

Elliott turned to the older man, drying his eyes with his handkerchief. "So we're in agreement. This has to be Aina's doing. You owe her a tremendous apology, Lewis. Really, you owe the whole town an apology, especially Marnie...but you owe her one most of all." 

Lewis peered down at the oak floorboards beneath his feet and said nothing. He stayed that way until a new voice cut through the joyful commotion: "Sales have been plummeting! Where have all my customers gone?" 

The (former) mayor glanced up, his face hardening. "Ah, Morris."

A stout businessman with slicked black hair, a red bowtie, and small round glasses stalked into the building. As he peered to his left, then his right, then straight ahead, his fair complexion lost color. "Waa...! All my customers...here?! This isn't good..."

Pierre, who had been in the corner talking to Caroline and Jodi, sauntered up to his business rival. "How does it feel?" he asked with a smugness that Elliott was unsure was entirely earned. Not that he didn't sympathize with Pierre's struggles, but he still had difficulty putting aside the image of him nearly striking Aina onstage. 

The air roiled between the two men. If Aina was here, she wouldn't want them to fight, lest they tarnish her hard work. So Elliott stepped forward with both hands up before Lewis could speak. "Er, now, now, gentlemen! Let's be reasonable. It's the Stardew Valley Fair. Today is supposed to be a day of harmony and sharing our bounty."

Morris's sneer melted into a smirk of his own. "Hmmph! It's of no consequence! I'll just run a 75%-off sale and all my customers will come crawling back to me, begging for forgiveness! You'll see!" 

Pierre narrowed his deep brown eyes. "No. Not this time...gather 'round, everyone!" he called. "We need to talk." 

As if on cue, everyone did just that. The residents formed a circle around Morris and Pierre, while the visitors stayed closer to the walls. Elliott and Lewis glanced at one another in uncertainty as the fire crackled contently behind them. 

With a deep breath, Pierre began: "I remember when I first moved to Pelican Town. This building was active and vibrant. We worked together to make the town a better place. There was a real sense of community. George, you always used to do the crossword puzzle while sipping coffee in the community kitchen. Remember?" 

George, his arm in a cast and sling, glanced down at his lap while Evelyn touched both his shoulders. "The good ol' days..."

"Emily, you wove that custom banner for the Stardew Valley Fair. I remember you working on that for years!" 

Emily flashed one of her rare frowns, rolling her eyes as if to look at the days behind her. "It...it was a lot of fun..."

"Willy!" 

Willy pointed to himself. "Me?" 

"Remember when your little crab experiment got out of hand?"

Willy beamed. "Hehe...that I do. We showed up one mornin' and the place was crawlin' with 'em." 

"But Gus saved the day with a brilliant idea: a crab leg feast for the entire valley!" 

"I still dream of that garlic butter," said Gus. Robin gave an "Mmmmm!" in agreement.

All the while, Elliott's chest ached. Not just for the love these people still had for each other despite everything, but for all the things he had missed out on. And for what Aina had missed out on. 

Would they even be having this discussion now if not for her?

Pierre scanned the entire room, the twinkle in his eyes growing. "You see, everyone? Our community is what makes Pelican Town special. When JojaMart came to town, we lost sight of that. But now, we have a second chance. I'm asking that you join me in boycotting JojaMart! We have the power to reclaim our old way of life! Who's with me?"

A brief but tense silence fell over the crowd save for the fire's whispers. Then, with a nod from George, Evelyn pushed him forward. "I've lived here too long to see this town go to ruin. You can count me in!" declared George. 

"I'm in!" "Me, too!" "Boycott!" "No more Joja!" "It's about time!" 

Elliott inhaled, tucked back his hair behind his ears, and took his turn: "Excuse me? Excuse me. I...I have something to add."

The rousing chorus fell back into a hush. 

"Pierre, I agree with the need to boycott JojaMart, for all the reasons you've given. But, aren't you forgetting something?" 

When Pierre didn't give an answer, Elliott supplied his own: "We have someone to thank for saving the community center, and by extension the soul of the town. She isn't here with us today, but that doesn't mean she shouldn't get credit." 

The crowd rumbled. 

"I know what Aina said and did at the candidates' debate. I was there. I won't excuse her past behavior. But if she truly hated this place, and hated us, as much as her words had suggested...why would she turn around a month later, after losing the election, and fix the center from the ground up, out of what I presume was her own pocket? For all we know, Aina has been working on this place ever since she moved here. Yet for reasons I know not, she never said a word about it, not even on the campaign trail.

"She could have given up on it, on us, after how we've taken her for granted. But instead, she chose to finish what she started. She's been trying to remind us all along that we are the community Pierre extols. It is because of her that we've been given this second chance. Surely, that must count for something!" 

While Elliott had, reluctantly, expected some pushback, it came from the most unlikely of sources. "Why should we care what you say?" said Morris. "You're her little boyfriend; of course you'd sing her praises." 

"Well, I never!" exclaimed Elliott. How could a man who prided himself on customer satisfaction say such petulant things? Then he remembered Aina's smiles and laughter and prior eagerness to please, and suddenly he understood the mask such pleasing required. Morris's mask had broken in the face of rejection, as Aina's had broken a month before.

Caroline stepped in between Pierre and Morris. "All right, Morris, you don't have to be rude. I have my own thoughts about Farmer Aina, but this is neither the time nor place to share them. Just accept the loss and enjoy the fair with the rest of us."  

"Hah! Of course you'd say that. But what are you going to do when the fair is over, Caroline? Go home and face the husband you cucked? Or perhaps, you'll run back into the arms of your daughter's real father?" 

Like a flash of lightning, Pierre launched Morris into the right front window off his fist. The crowd exploded with a roar of excitement that undercut the previous tranquility of the center. 

His skin prickling with heat, Elliott tugged on his hair. No no NO! This is exactly what I was trying to avert!  

Leah carefully touched his shoulder. "I'm proud of you, Ellie. That took a lot of guts to say what you did. Come on, let's go to the crafts room and wait out this shitstorm." 

He sighed, offered his hand for her to take, and followed her around the corner. The last he saw of the violence was Caroline helping up Morris just to knee him in the groin and shove him back into Pierre's awaiting arms. 

She is frequently kind,
Then she’s suddenly cruel.
She can do as she pleases,
She’s nobody’s fool!

But she can’t be convicted,
She’s earned her degree.
And the most she will do is throw shadows at you,
But she’s always a woman to me.

Two Fridays later, the town had begun its clumsy settling into the new normal. Pam had taken her trailer and left town, leaving the new house to Penny (Elliott had had the misfortune of overhearing their screaming match on his way back from Pierre's one day). Clint and Kent had signed up for the Adventurers' Guild. George followed physical therapy as best he could with Alex and Evelyn at his sides, mothering him like hens. Marnie had gotten in touch with her lawyer to see how much financial pain she could spare Shane and Jas. Lewis was in the process of finding his own lawyer. Jodi and Kent were negotiating their separation, to the unease of their sons. Robin and Demetrius started their search for a family therapist. 

Pierre, Caroline, and Abigail were recovering from the night they'd sicced an angry mob against Rasmodius the previous week. So was the mob. Story for another time. 

Who knew when or if Pelican Town's reputation would recover from all this madness? All Elliott knew for sure was that Aina hadn't created it; she had merely revealed it before anyone had been ready to confront it. 

All he could do for now was try to be the best neighbor he could be and start on his next novel. A mystery novel set in a surreal, dystopian future. Quite a different premise than that of Camellia Station, but he could only grow as a writer if he challenged himself. 

Tonight, however, was time for rest and revelry. Sam had brought his synthesizer, as he'd taken to doing every Friday night. "Alfalfa Enema", his band, spent their Friday nights at the saloon to relax as well. As they set up the instrument, Elliott noticed the distance between Abigail and Sebastian. Sebastian was chalking a pool stick; Abigail, shutting the world out in favor of that of the Prairie King. 

Something had happened between him and her. Aina had informed Elliott as much, but for their sake, she'd refused to say what. Only that it had been, at least in part, her fault. She'd learned her lesson about sharing secrets against someone's will. 

"How are things, Sam?" Elliott asked, not expecting an honest answer. He purposefully left "things" ambiguous to allow Sam to share as much as he was comfortable. 

"Aw, y'know! A little, uh, bumpy...but nothing we can't handle!" Sam replied with a scratch to the back of his head and a smile that almost looked genuine. After he set up the microphone, he flashed a thumbs-up and cheered, "Knock 'em dead!" 

After fixing his collar, tying back his hair, and adjusting his cuff links, Elliott took his seat in front of the synthesizer. The duck mayo jar labeled TIPS sat at his right foot. He cleared his throat. "Good evening, everyone! Thank you once again for having me play for you. Who would like the first request?" 

"Why don't you pick first, lad?" called Willy from the back of the room. "We all know ye got taste." A small chorus of agreement, if a tired one, gave Elliott the assurance he sought. 

"Ah! Well, if you insist...very well! And please, if you're able, don't forget to tip." 

When Aina had first arranged these performances for him, she'd see to it everyone tipped at least 400g. The price of a pint of beer. 

Unless his eyes deceived him, he was about to face the keys and begin playing when he spotted a figure sidle through the front door. In a heartbeat, he could recognize the span of those hips, the curve of that face, the fire in those honey-gold eyes, the reach of her rich brown curls. 

Aina stayed by the back of the room, blowing him a kiss. If anyone noticed her there, they didn't say so. Who knew how long it would take before she'd be greeted like one of them again? 

She would only stay for as long as he played, only to disappear like a smoke in the wind once he'd get up to take his break. Until then, he caught her kiss, pressed it over his chest, and silently dedicated his first song of the night to her. His muse on the broken pedestal. 

"She can kill with a smile,
She can wound with her eyes,
And she can ruin your faith with her casual lies.

"And she only reveals what she wants you to see.
She hides like a child,
But she’s always a woman to me..."