A Haven From the Storm

Chapter 3: Return to Mineral Village

---

It was pitch black - darker than dark when she started speaking.

"Jack, you are wounded. You are suffering fiercely."

A woman's voice, mature, softly modulated, speaking with the wisdom and compassion of a thousand generations.

"What does it matter to you? Who are you?"

"How could you know me when you don't know who you are yet? You grieve for a fine man, even more fine than you know. I grieve for him also. I knew him all his life. But he has passed above us and knows only peace now. You are still among us of earth, earthy. You are of his line. It is you I have concern for."

"Why me? What could you care?"

"Your line is important to me and to the land I love. You fear the future."

"I have no future. My best days are behind."

A bell started ringing softly in the background.

"'No future' is behind you. Ahead is a glorious fulfillment for you." The bell got louder and louder. "You are headed down the right path now, do not think of reversing..."

Although she kept talking, the bell drowned out her words. Then I was awake in that hammock in that cabin, with the ship's bell clanging and Captain Willowbee shouting abovedeck:

"One hour call! One hour call for the good ship Coastal Princess!"

Strange dream! Must be from sleeping in a strange place. Cliff was also getting up from his hammock. Zack was already gone...what a workhorse!

"Morning Jack. Sleep well?"

"Like the grave. And you?"

"Show me a place I can't sleep well in and I'll show you a portal to hell!" He laughed. "I got here before you, so I know where the head is. All the way down the hall to the right." He took out a 1G coin. "Flip ya for first dibs."

I called it heads and it landed heads. I went down the hall to the simple but adequate facilities. There were old wooden buckets of soapy water and real sea sponges for washing. Scrubbing myself woke me up good and I returned refreshed to the cabin to find Zack passing out more tin plates and cups - this time, piled high with scrambled eggs, bread and cheese. The cup of strong black Navy coffee finished the awakening the sponge bath started. Like last night, Zack had shovelled down all his food before we had gotten well started.

"Sorry to eat and run guys, but I'm working now. Half an hour to get those crates tied down." He tossed down the empty plate and cup. "Gotta run, see you guys later. Oh - Happy New Years!" He was out the door and up the ladder in a flash. Cliff and I took a little more time eating, then picked up the plates and cups and followed, more slowly.

Up on the deck, it was still mostly dark, with just a hint of dawn over the sea to the east. The full moon in the west was about to set, but still gave enough light to see by. On the docks, fishing boat crews were readying their nets and boats for the day's catch. The air was very cool and still - fresh with the smell of the sea. After all those city years, I had almost forgotten about real fresh air. Both Cliff and I took a deep breath at the same time.

"Smells good here! I haven't been on the water in awhile. How 'bout you, Jack?"

"Been some time also. Used to make this trip with my folks once a year."

Up on the bridge, the captain was watching the sky. He called down to us.

"Morning, young fellas. Leavin' in thirty minutes, so ye've got any business on land, better git it dun fast. Slept alright?"

"Just fine, thanks, Captain."

"Looks like fine sailin' weather. Sea's no more 'n a meter. Ought 'ta make the run right on time."

Zack was aft, tying down a bunch of crates. The captain's nephew was fore and portside, cleaning up the remains of the morning's cooking. I went up to him.

"Hello, I'm Jack. I just wanted to thank you for a couple of great meals."

He smiled. "You're a nice guy Jack. Thanks, it's my job. Name's John."

"Good to see you, John." I looked up at the captain on the bridge, then lowered my voice. "If you don't mind me asking - don't you get annoyed with him yelling at you like that?"

John kept smiling and whispered back. "I don't mind it. It's just his way. His bark is worse than his bite. Actually, he's quite good to me. When I turned eighteen last year, there was no work in my town - I'm from the western part of the state - and my folks didn't have enough money to send me to school. Shoot, hardly had enough to eat on. My uncle there, he took me on. I work for him, and he teaches me about boats and stuff. I'd never thought of it before, but I like the sea now. Uncle says if I learn well, I'll inherit this ship when he's gone." He laughed. "Mabye in thirty, forty years the way he's going. What a tough old bird!"

"Hey boy! Quit bendin' the ears off'n the passengers! Ten minutes to sail, git ready to cast off!"

"Well, gotta go Jack. Nice talking to you."

"Happy New Year, John. Success and happiness to you."

Cliff and I stood side by side at the foredeck railing, waiting to start the trip.

"I heard that. You are a nice guy, Jack. Who else'd talk to a deckhand like that. Not enough nice people left in this world. I'm already glad I came here - met you here. Shake, buddy!"

"Good to have met you also, Cliff. You're cheerful no matter what's behind or ahead. I needed some of that now."

"You aren't looking forward to where you're going, you won't get up the will to go. And I've gotta go! Too many people left to meet, too much left to see!"

The sun had just broken over the horizon, bathing the white docks and leftover snow with a pastel orange light against the electric blue morning sky. The captain was staring intently at an old gold watch, one hand on the ship's bell. At what must have been six o' clock to the second, he started ringing and calling out:

"Ahoy! Ahoy! The good ship Coastal Princess porting passengers and freight to Mineral Village, Flowerbud Village, Forget-Me-Not Village and Halibut Point is now departing! All aboard whose comin' aboard!"

The engines started and idled with an agreeable chugging. The captain looked around for a minute, then satisfied, went back to bell ringing and called out:

"All right, cast off there. Look sharp! Look sharp! We're underway! Make Mineral Village by ten!"

John pulled up the anchor, took up the lines from the dock, gave the dock a good push, and we were moving.

I looked back at the docks, and behind, the little white houses and churches of Edgeport. Overhead, seagulls hopeful for a free breakfast were keeping up with us, squawking. Ahead, the open sea.

"Hey boy! When ye finish tyin' off the lines, come up the bridge. When we clear the channel, I want ye to take the helm. Last time, ye're pilotin' weren't too shabby and I want to see if ye kin dew it again."

"Aye, aye, Captain!" John winked at me and I winked back. From generation to generation. As long as there's people like that, there'll always be an Edgeport.

A few minutes later, we were on the open sea. With Edgeport behind us, the shore was a tangle of old forest and rugged hills.

Cliff had apparently seen enough, he sat down on the deck, pulled out a fiddle from his backpack, tuned up for a minute, then launched into the mock heroic chords of an old sea chanty.

"Hey, that's Cape Cod Girls"

Cliff stopped. "You know that song?"

"Sure, in music class, the teacher loved the old sea songs and taught a bunch of them to us."

"Ha! An old song, eh? I just heard a fisherman humming it yesterday and thought it was neat."

I reached into my backpack and pulled out my trusty ocarina. "Fiddle's good for sea chanties, but you need pipes also."

Cliff laughed. "A duet, huh? OK, take it from the top."

And we played together - not too badly, as I remember. Then, who'd have guessed it but the Captain up on the bridge started singing along.

"Hey! You young fellas know that song!"

"Sure do, Captain."

"Right, Captain."

"Heh! Well I'll be marooned, bunch of kids knowing the old sea songs. Well, don't just sit there with ye're mouths agape, fish's likely to jump in! Play on, mates, play on!"

So, the rest of the trip, we played and the captain sang. Behind me, a career in ruins and a city gripped in depression. Ahead, I had to bury my last close family member. I should have felt bad enough to just jump overboard and end it all. But the rugged coast passed by, and the sun fired the surface of the wine dark sea with flashes of diamond and gold. For some reason I felt that things were going to work out. In fact, I felt like we were sailing into the dawn of the world.

---

Sure enough, just about ten, Mineral Village appeared ahead of us. This was another place that didn't change - seven years since I was last there - and sixteen years since the marvelous summer I spent with grandpa - and it looked exactly the same.

The captain had the wheel again, and effortlessly glided up to the dock as John jumped onto it and tied the ship in place.

"Mineral Village! All ashore whose goin' ashore!"

Zack was already loaded down with crates and barrels, going doubletime for the storeroom on shore. "See you guys later, I'm working now!"

Cliff and I stepped onto the dock and waved to the Captain and John. Then, a short, stout fiftish man in a bright red suit came up to us and asked

"Excuse me, would either of you be Jack?"

"I am, sir. And you are...?"

"Mayor Thomas. You got my letter then. Excellent. This is the last day that we could have delayed the funeral. Let me express my deepest sympathies. Your grandfather was a pillar of the community, greatly loved by all. He will be sorely missed."

"Thank you sir."

"Pah! Don't 'sir' me, Jack. Just 'Thomas' is fine. And who might you be?" Thomas was looking over Cliff's rather patched and faded clothes."

"Name's Cliff. I'm a travelling laborer, Mayor, looking for work."

"And he's a good friend of mine." Cliff shot me a grateful glance.

"Well Cliff...can't say that there's many jobs open here. But seeing as you're a friend of Jack's, guess you can stay for awhile and see what you can find."

"Thank you, Mayor. I guess I should check in at the inn now. I'll see you later, Jack. That was a good trip."

"It was. Later, Cliff."

Cliff walked briskly towards Rose Square, while the Mayor and I walked slowly, side by side.

"We'll stop in the church there and let Pastor Carter know that we'll have the service in...oh...an hour, if you can be ready."

"I will be."

We entered the small church. Inside, many candles were burning and a coffin was in front of the altar. A grave faced man with sandy hair wearing a black robe was praying at the casket. When he heard us come in, he approached us.

"Hello Thomas. Are you Jack?"

"I am, Reverend."

He took my hand. "At times like this, Jack, words seem so empty. Let me just say that I am absolutely certain that he is in his reward now for a good and full life. There could be no man better than he was."

"Carter, I think we can do the services in an hour if you can be ready."

"Most certainly, Thomas. I'll call the villagers together."

He went to the back of the church and started pulling on the bell rope. Thomas and I walked out to the ringing of the church bell.

"Jack, do you need to wash and change? If so, you can use my house. And I even believe I have a presentable suit you could wear."

"Thanks, Thomas, I could use both."

---

The next hour was a blur in my memory. Next thing I knew, I was seated besides Mayor Thomas at the front of the church, which was completely full of people. He whispered to me:

"You should know that everyone in the village is here. Except for Ellen, who is an invalid."

I nodded as Pastor Carter ascended the altar.

"People, we come together today to pay homage to a great man..."

My mind wandered as I struggled to keep control of myself. I kept coming back to that summer I spent at the farm. Grandpa had said he'd be too busy with work to play much with me, but I didn't mind. Just watching him tend the farm was a great pastime. How he loved it so - it showed in his every movement.

"...and in the absolute certainty of the resurrection of the body and the life everlasting. Amen."

Thomas, four other men and myself picked up the casket, carried it outside and gently lowered it into the waiting grave. Zack covered it over as we all stood by watching until the pastor said:

"This service is over. Go in peace."

I was still dazed as villagers filed by, offering me soft words of sympathy. Then, Thomas said:

"Please everyone, don't go home yet. Let us go to the inn for a special town meeting. Jack, I'm sorry, but this is the private business of the village and you cannot attend. You could, if you like, go to the farm and wait. I'll come for you when the meeting is over."

---

We all walked together to Rose Square, where everyone else split off towards the inn. I contined the back way and up farm row until I got to the old familiar gate with the sign proclaiming:

Welcome to Erehwon Farms

I walked into the gate and stopped open mouthed with amazement, asking myself, 'what has happened here?!'

The fields that I had remembered as orderly and thriving with crops were a dense tangle of weeds and vines. Logs and rocks poking through the jungle completed the picture of abandon.

But, grandpa was working the farm right up to the end. How did it get into this state? I shrugged and went into the small house.

Inside was much as I remembered it. Grandpa was generous to others, but was a pinchpenny in his own comforts. A small bed, a rough wooden table and chairs was all the furniture he needed. There was, however, the overflowing bookcase I remembered. I went over to it, thinking to start putting his papers in order. I pulled down a composition book and opened it. It was a record of his of daily weather conditions, crop yields and prices for thirty to twenty years ago.

Impressive, his attention to details. I noticed a really ancient looking book in the back, got it, opened and marvelled. It was a similar journal, but written two hundred ninety to two hundred sixty years ago! The frontleaf identified it as the journal of Alfred _______ Esquire. This would be my nine times great grandfather! I had not realized our family went back so far here - Alfred would have been among the very first settlers in this part of the country. Leafing through in fascination, I noticed mixed in with the factual data odd little notes.

"Her cholor hath diminished somewhat, and She now deigns to speaketh with me"

She? Must be his wife. More notes of that kind did not make it clear who she was. Well, this deserved study later, I thought as a carefully reshelved the book.

It was getting past one and I was thinking about lunch. Wonder what food grandpa had here. There's no refrigerator or stove, just a little water bucket on the floor. What did he eat? He was certainly too thrifty to take all his meals at the inn. Searching around in a corner, I found some crates, with "MRE" stencilled on the sides.

I grinned, he was thrifty. MRE's - "Meals Ready to Eat" - army rations. As a veteran friend once joshed, 'three lies for the price of one!' He must have gotten these cheap as surplus. I opened one of the crates, and pulled out a plastic wrapped package. The label identified it as Fish/Vegetable Riceball with an expiration date ten years in the future. I took a bite...hmmm, bland but edible. I kept chewing away and looking through the bookshelf when I heard a scratching on the door.

"Meeting finished so soon? Come in please." The door didn't open but the scratching continued. What could this be? In the city, I would dare not open without knowing who was there, but what could happen here? I opened the door, and there was a small brown puppy.

"Hi, fella, who are you?"

The puppy looked at me, yipped, wagged his tail and came in the house.

"Yes, please come in."

I picked him up, and he squirmed happily, yipping and wagging.

"Wow! You're a friendly one. Enough now, down you go. You hungry?"

I offered him a bit of the rice ball and he took it eagerly. There was also a piece of cheese in the package which did not smell too savory to me. I put it on the ground for the puppy. He sniffed it, then turned around, lifted his leg and wet it down.

"My opinion exactly. Well, you're such a lively little fellow that I'd call you Wowser if you were mine."

Then, Mayor Thomas did appear at the door.

"Jack, can we talk seriously?"

"Most certainly, would you please come in."

"The village meeting, as you can probably guess, was about the disposition of the Erehwon farm. As you may know, land in Mineral Village is not privately owned - it is held in trust by the village committee, which is all the adult residents. The committee grants lifetime use of parcels of land, and such use rights are routinely passed from parents to children.

"The farm presents a bit of a problem. Your grandfather's son has passed away, so there is no clear successor to this land. Usually, in such a case, some lightly employed villager is offered the use rights. But, now, everyone in the village that is able to work is fully occupied with something important.

"Frankly, we cannot afford to let the farm go fallow for long enough for one of the children to grow of age to take it. With your grandfather, the income from this farm was half of the village income. We are thrifty, and live modestly here, but such a loss will, after awhile, impoverish us greatly.

"Pardon me...us...for taking notice of your private life, but the matter is too serious for false reticence. You are your grandfather's grandson, and I am given to understand that you are unemployed with poor prospects. Is this not correct?"

I nodded. Where was he going with this?

"Even though you have not lived here, your blood is of this village. People have concluded that that is good enough. We would like to offer you the right to live and work this farm."

I was speechless. Me, a farmer? My life up to this point was engineering. I knew nothing of farming, and had not even thought of trying it.

"We would grant you the provisional use rights for three years. All you earn from your labor would be unconditionally yours, though money used to improve the farm would then be considered the land's rather than yours. Three years seems a reasonable time for a healthy and bright boy to bring this farm back to full production. If you accomplish this, and are viewed favorably by the other villagers, then we will grant you lifetime use of the farm, that you could pass on to your children.

"People of the village will, of course, give you help - they must, seeing as you are new to farming. But be under no illusion, your success will be through your own efforts, and strenuous ones, too. Farming is hard work.

"I know this is sudden, and would be a major change in your life. There is no need to rush a decision - you could take weeks if you like. Go back to the mainland, put your affairs in order, talk with whomover you like."

Sometimes, I had the gift of being suddenly certain of the correctness of a decision. I had that now. There was nothing on the mainland for me, and noone but distant relatives and old friends who I would just burden. Perhaps in three years, things would improve, but for now, this farm could be a haven from the storm in the world. In depressions, if a farmer's land was unencumbered, he may not make cash money, but he ate and had shelter.

Besides, the thought of an impoverished Mineral Village was hateful to me. Depression and Liberty City went together naturally - it was a kind of rough justice for their crimes and ugliness. But hardship for such a simple folk in such a nice place...revolting! I wasn't sure if I could really help keep it off, but trying seemed as worthy a task as sending people to Mars.

"I don't need any time, Thomas. I accept the offer of the village. I pledge to you that I shall devote the next three years to making this farm thrive and becoming an accepted part of this village."

"Well spoken, sir. Welcome." We shook hands, then went outside together.

"I don't know how much of the village you remember from your visits. It's changed very little, but would you like a tour?"

"Thank you, I would appreciate it. One question I have. What has happened to this farm." I waved my hands at the field waste.

"Oh. This land is peculiar. If it's not cultivated by one of your family, it goes wild very quickly. Pastor Carter has some ideas about it, but I don't understand them. His ideas are often odd. But I'm not speaking against him, he's a fine man. Perhaps you should speak with him."

So, for the next couple of hours, we walked through the village, greeting people while Thomas told me of the various families and buildings, some familiar, some not. We got back to the farm as the church bell rang six and parted. I was once again exhausted from a full day, and went right to bed and thus off to sleep.