Road to Spring

Kuno

Django Jane
Original poster
FOLKLORE MEMBER
Posting Speed
  1. One post per day
  2. 1-3 posts per week
  3. One post per week
Writing Levels
  1. Intermediate
  2. Adept
  3. Advanced
  4. Prestige
  5. Adaptable
Preferred Character Gender
  1. No Preferences
Genres
Fantasy, Sci fi, Romance, Historical, Modern, Supernatural
Road to Spring...
...turn left at the fern




Chapter 1: Back to Their Roots​


“I thought I heard some noise headed up this way. Well! How do you do, neighbor?”

A glossy veneer too big for his mouth. Eyes bright and brown and attentive, as arresting as they were intent. The gray caterpillars perched above moved in exaggerated fashion, twisting this way and that in tandem with the animation of his weathered hands. The sputtering rumble of his old truck’s engine spilled a noisy hum into the silence. In the span of a moment, the owner rolled the passenger window further, peering at his discovery.

The old man in the truck had stumbled upon more than he’d realized. Not much went escaped in his village. At just over one hundred residents, Spring Fern Valley was the very definition of a small town. Aptly named for the wide mountain valley it lay nestled in, thick forest foliage and soil-rich crop fields dominated much of the town’s area. Here the night’s canopy was a canvass of stars, and the man-made thrum of city noise had been replaced with the quiet gurgling of creeks and the chipper songs of birds. Concrete jungles were no more. Instead sat resident’s homes and farms comfortably hugged by trees. To each man was his own land. And to have any sort of disruption, distraction to this idyllic serenity certainly…

Well. News tended to travel like wildfire in their tiny community.

Strange that he’d missed the moving truck, then. Or that anyone else would, for that matter. Only two streets led out of Spring Fern Valley. The rest was tractor-rolled dirt roads, and he doubted any sane man would hike a truck of that size up those paths. Granny Fay liked to sit on her porch and watch comings and goings during the day, but it was about six pm. Not much sunlight left; maybe she’d gone in for a nap?

Well. No point in doing all this sleuthing for no reason. The old man chuckled to himself a bit.

“Need a hand, miss?”

“No. Thanks.”

First impressions were everything. He’d heard from Mayor Caughlin that a city-dweller was coming from miles and miles away to take over Mr. Angus Clyde’s farm. It was an old, dilapidated estate. Angus - bless his heart - had done the best he could to keep the large farmhouse in good form, but old age and debts had eventually gotten the best of him. First he’d sold the animals. Then his car. Had he sold the tractors and the farming equipment, and most farmers would have considered the property a price-gouging waste of money. Beyond saving. A damn shame, too - Clyde’s farm had the best mill and greenhouse in the town. Had he more money and more time, and he would have considered buying it himself.

To hear it had fallen in the hands of an inexperienced city girl was...He hadn’t believed it. Almost thought his old friend was playing a good trick on him - payback for beating the tar out of him at Texas Hold ‘Em. But as he stared at the stranger and her distrustful eyes and the peculiar, flashy style she wore, he found his eyes quickly drawn lower, panning down until they reached her feet. He blinked.

Heels. Tall, ruby red heels. They sank into the dirt as the woman hefted a box into her arms, and the old man watched them shoot back out only to sink again as the woman struggled to catch a good grip.

Bless her heart.

“Where’s your moving men?” Despite her answer, the farmer was out of his truck already, hustling to grab the other side.

“Don’t have any,” The woman grunted, and the old man looked at her strangely. She was younger than he realized; far younger than he would have figured for someone moving out there on their own. Just a kid, really. His heart softened, and he took the full weight of the box out of her hands, huffing a bit.

“Tell you what. Let me call my grandson Jack to come give us a hand. We can get this stuff in before it gets dark out, eh?”

“It’s fine -”

“It’ll be quick. We stay just down the road,” He assured her. As her face frowned, he pulled out his cell phone, jabbing in the numbers. The old man pressed the phone to his ears as he waited. Out of the corner of his eye he watched her cross her arms and frown off to the side, looking much fairly lost, and he couldn’t help the sigh that escaped him.

Just a kid, this one. He shook his head ruefully.

She’d be the talk of the town in no time.

 
The sound of a Cockatoo scream made a pair of feet sticking out of the back of the sofa disappear before a head of messy copperish hair emerged to scramble for the phone. "Hello?" The young man asked curiously as he wasn't expecting a call from his grandfather at this hour. The old man was heading home, so there was really no point in him calling unless something had happened. "Jack, I'm at Angus' farm and the new neighbor needs a hand with her stuff. Be a good lad and come give me a hand will ye?" Gramps' voice came from the other side and Jack disentangled himself from the weird reading position he had assumed, getting up and grabbing his UC Davis Sweatshirt in the process. "Sure thing Gramps! I'll be there in ten." He assured the old man and quickly got ready and out of the house in record time. He was really curious to meet this new neighbor. What girl would give up the city to come and take over Angus' farm? That place was no joke, it required serious work to be able to run, but it was well worth it.

True to his word, ten minutes later an old dirt bike was pulling off in the driveway and Jack hopped off, casually leaving his helmet on the handlebars. There were no thieves in the Valley. There was no point as everybody knew everyone that lived here. Ruffling up his hair to get rid of helmet compression, Jack walked up to the duo with a friendly smile. "So what do we got Gramps?" He greeted the old man before settling in on the young woman. Boy, oh boy was she in for a ride. Who wore heels when coming to the countryside? He had been in 'the outside world' and he knew for a fact that even fashionistas owned flat shoes. Why on Earth had she gone for heels after it had rained during the night?

Putting these thoughts aside, Jack extended a hand for her to take as he introduced himself "Hi! I'm Jack Russel. We live on the farm right down the road. Nice to meet you."
 

I just want to be left alone.

The old man had a way of lowering people’s guards just by talking to them. Somehow he - Malone, as he later mentioned - had caught her in his honey trap. Margot couldn’t shake him. Though the help was surely appreciated...even if she didn’t want to admit it. The young woman stood off to the side, her hands loose at her sides as she fell victim to the old man’s blustering generosity.

He epitomized everything she hated about small towns. The closeness, the intrusion, the all-encompassing sense of community. She could feel that smothering hospitality wrapping around her as his too-keen eyes watched her with rapt attention, seemingly innocuous questions petering from his mouth in the scant pauses of noise. And against her better judgement, she answered a few of them. Clever old man. His kindness was disarming.

“So Angus never told me he had any relatives. Always thought the old kook was a hermit.”

Margot cut her eyes at Malone. The statement was intentionally worded to garner an explanation; it may as well have been a question, and the young woman squinted at the old man’s innocent expression as he grabbed a box.

“Yeah, he was pretty private,” Margot replied a bit cryptically.

Malone’s brow rose. “Oh?”

Before the inquisition could continue, a voice called out to him from behind them. It was his grandson, apparently. A young guy - maybe her age, maybe younger. Lanky. Not too tall. Margot’s trailed his own as they went first from his face then down, following the same downward path Malone’s had as he’d pulled up alongside her. The same questions lay in his eyes.

She could feel her confidence in herself sinking much like her heels into the soil.

“Hi. I’m Margot. Or…”

Maggie echoed in her mind. But no. She didn’t want to give him that. Much too personal. Margot smiled thinly, shaking the thought away.

“Margot Fischer. Nice to meet you.” She hesitated before taking his hand. It was warm; strong grip, too, and Margot flexed her fingers a bit as she pulled away, taking a step back. Immediately, her heel sunk further into the ground. Feeling shame, she hoisted herself back out of the ground, her eyes skittering away.

“It’s only a couple of more boxes. I don’t mind taking them in -”

“Nonsense! We’ll take the rest,” Malone boomed from behind them, and Margot cursed him in her head. With a clap, Malone grasped Jack’s shoulder grinning. “C’mon now. Don’t let these old bones out work you.”

With a chuckle, the old man turned away. Margot smiled politely at Jack.

“Guess you’re stuck. Sorry,” She joked dryly.
 
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Jack nodded in acknowledgment as Margot introduced herself. She was nervous, he could tell by how she hesitated to shake his hand and how she immediately retreated afterward, trying to give them an excuse to leave her alone. Unfortunately for her, his gramps had a habit of not letting people be that easy. He always wanted to help and he was a curious fellow, which was a killer combo. Jack gave her a knowing and apologetic look as he turned to face his grandfather with a 'hurt' expression. "Why I would nevah!" He joked, purposefully changing his accent, which elicited a snort from the old man as they picked up a box each.

“Guess you’re stuck. Sorry,” Came her response and Jack shook his head. "No worries." His accent jumped back to normal. "I wasn't doing much anyway, meeting a new face is always nice." He assured her as he made his way to the house. "Besides, from my experience with college move-ins, it's always good to meet people on the first day. It gives you an excuse to connect later on, you know?" He added as he got up the stairs of the front porch and inside the empty house.

"Now where do you want this at?" He turned to look at her. The box was rather heavy and he would rather not have her struggle too much with rearranging the boxes as she would have several more things on her plate the next morning.
 
“Now where do you want this at?”

Did it even matter?

The house was completely bare. A bare husk of the life it once held, it now sat as a testament to what could have been. It was as alien to Margot as it was to Jack. No - even more so. At least he’d grown up in the same town as Angus. Maybe he’d even been over there once or twice. The brunette flicked a light switch on, blinking in the warm glow that illuminated the large brick-laid foyer. Angus really had sold everything. Not one bit of furniture was left; she was hoping, at the very least, for a chair…

“It’s all gone, honey. The money, the stocks, the house - we’re broke.”

A soft sigh escaped her.

“Anywhere is fine,” She replied, eyes downcast. The heels went off; with a gentle touch, she stacked them gingerly by the door, careful to put them out of the way. She couldn’t afford anything else happening to them...at least not until she bought another pair of shoes.

A shrill whistle filled the air, courtesy of Malone. It echoed in that big, empty house, and Margot blinked a bit, glancing around the solid structure. It hadn’t really dawned on her before, but the weight of it all suddenly fell on her shoulders: she’d be alone there. Truly alone. The girl hugged herself, a slight frown creasing her face.

She was suddenly glad for Malone and Jack’s presence.

Remembering herself, Margot turned to face the latter man. “Thanks again,” She murmured, attempting a smile. “Seriously. I’ll have to make it up to you guys later. Uh, once I get some...groceries maybe I’ll cook something for you? And bring it by.”

She cocked her head to the side a bit.

“You said you’re a college student? There’s a school around here?”
 
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Jack had heard that Angus was forced to sell most of his stuff in order to save the property, but he never thought it was that bad. Or maybe Margot had decided to start with a clean slate for the house. Make it fully hers. At any rate, he decided to take the box into one of the corners close to the front door, stacking it neatly with a couple of the boxes that were already there.

He winced when a loud whistle he knew oh so well from his childhood echoed in the hall. "Gramps! No need to use the cattle whistle in here!" He whined as he felt his ears pierced by the high-pitched sound. "Nope, but I liked it. And it makes you appreciate the size of this house too." Malone smirked at his grandson.

“Thanks again,” His attention shifted back to Margot and he shook his head with a smile. "You're most welcome."

“Seriously. I’ll have to make it up to you guys later. Uh, once I get some...groceries maybe I’ll cook something for you? And bring it by.” He grinned. "I never say no to food, but only if you promise to worry yourself about that after you have fully settled in." He said lightheartedly.

“You said you’re a college student? There’s a school around here?” Oh, so she was interested in making acquaintances. That was good. Jack had noticed how she was acting around Malone's overbearing friendliness and he was half expecting to be politely kicked out as soon as Malone had no excuse for lingering about. "Oh, that? No, we are too out of the way to have our own college. I actually had to move out into the city to go to Vet school." He explained. "It was kind of exciting and scary at the same time. Going from knowing everybody to knowing nobody and everything is moving too fast to even know where to begin with, ya know? I was so glad I had my roommate to help out with all that." He gave her a knowing smile. Somehow he felt that she was going through the same culture shock that he had, only in reverse. "So definitely take your time with settling in before worrying about making it up to anyone. I can give you my phone number so, if you need any help from finding the best coffee to patching up a fence, just give me a call. Usually, I do my residency at the vet clinic in the mornings, but we can work something out."
 
So he was a vet, of all things. She supposed it made sense. This was a farming town; if he really wanted to give back to his community, this was quite possibly the best way to go about it. In a relaxed, calming manner, Jack went into his schooling and even shared a few words of advice for her. Polite, this one was. She couldn't remember any other boys her own age as nice as him from college. Part of the small town charm, she supposed.

Margot's right hand twisted within her thick curls. It was a nervous tic. The childhood habit had followed her through school until adulthood, and asides from that, it was the only sign the young girl was anxious at all.

It was a city girl mentality. Those who hailed from concrete jungles didn't understand the innate friendliness of close-knit communities like Spring Fern Valley. Margot's trained instinct was to put up a boundary between her and the valley's citizens. She didn't want them to get close, or to know too much; once that information was out, there was no reclaiming it. And that's what Margot was afraid of.

Still. It'd be rude to turn the young guy down. And unlike his grandfather, there didn't seem to be an ounce of nosiness or ulterior motives in his words. At least, none that she could detect right away.

Quit being so jaded, she internally chastised herself. Dismissing the negativity, Margot offered Jack a fragile smile.

"Yeah, here. I have -" In her back jean pocket was a small notebook with her list of packed items in it. She pulled it out and turned to an empty page before handing it to Jack. "Just jot it down for me, please. Thanks."

She paused.

"Probably won't call you, though. I should be okay for the most part."

"Ah, but it's always good to have an extra pair of hands!" Malone abruptly chimed in, and Margot turned to watch him enter the home with the last of the boxes, a big friendly grin on his face. She flashed him the same smile.

"Think that's the last of it...?" She started, and after the old man nodded, she added quickly, "Oh ok. Yeah. Mr. Malone, thanks so much -"

"Certainly!"

The old man's cheer was infectious. Despite herself, Margot found her grin widening, her eyes crinkling up with her smile.

"And if you need help unpacking -"

"No no no, that's alright," Margot assured hurriedly, her hands waving. It was more help than she could handle. "I'll be ok."
 
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"Just jot it down for me, please. Thanks." He took the notepad quickly noted down his number before handing it back to her. "No problem!"

"Probably won't call you, though. I should be okay for the most part." She was quick to add after she got a look at the number and then putting the notepad away. "Sure..." Jack began to say but his grandfather was quick to butt in as soon as he entered the house with another box. "Ah, but it's always good to have an extra pair of hands!" Jack had to roll his eyes at the comment. While it was true in most cases when it came to living in a place like Fern Valley, Jack could never understand how his gramps managed to be present and aware of what was going on even when he wasn't in the room. "Gramps leave her be. Moving in requires a lot of personal space until you finally settle in." Jack 'reprimanded' Malone, who simply replied with a shrug as Margot got in the middle a little hesitant. "Think that's the last of it...?"

That was their cue to start leaving, but Malone seemed to have other ideas as he volunteered them for unpacking duty as well. Grabbing his grandfather by the collar, Jack theatrically tugged him towards the door. "Come on now Gramps. You've done enough snooping for the day. Give the lady some space!" He urged as he looped his arm around Malone's shoulder. "Hey now!" Malone protested but Jack ignored him, turning towards Margot as they were about to walk out the door.
"It was nice to meet you. Welcome to Spring Fern Valley and like I said, let me know if you need anything. Good night!" He smiled and patted his grandfather on the back as the old man seemed to get the hint, though somewhat unwillingly.
 

Margot watched them go from the frame of her front door. There was something oddly nostalgic about the way Jack pulled Mr. Malone away, the old man rattling at the mouth all the while. It reminded her of...something. Not someone. She couldn’t fathom having such a connection with her own grandparents.

She raised a hand and waved as they pulled off, the crunch of gravel under tires receding into the distance. She wondered if they really lived just down the road; to country folk, that could mean anything. Heaven forbid she needed a car to get somewhere in case of an emergency. But she supposed that was a concern for another day. For now, she needed to unpack what few items she had. As Margot returned within the house, she placed the notepad on the little dresser in the foyer. “Jack” was scrawled across the front page, and true to his word, there was written his number underneath. Her eyes flitted over the scattered numbers idly, and she drifted away, back to her chores.

She didn’t realize she was smiling.

-------

Margot was the word of the day.

News traveled fast by word of mouth, and it often came in its most egregious form: yellow journalism. The citizens of Spring Fern Valley were inclined to - and this was an understatement - to gossip. In their small, peaceful town, excitement and fanfare came in the smallest of things. Malone was hardly home before he was accosted by family and friends alike. There the convoluted tale began: a new, glamorous femme fatale in ill-fated heels had stumbled perhaps by accident into a world largely unsuited for her. The shoes took on a fable of their own; what an otherworldly, irresistibly classy, foolish thing they were to these simple country folk. It was yet another thing they hoped to get a glimpse of.

But sight-seeing would have to wait. Farm life waited for no one, and for the farmers, the work started at the crack of dawn. Other occupations began later. For Margot, the task she set upon was monumental at best: to settle the massive amount of land she had been gifted, and to attempt to start somewhere. So she did. She tried to start with the barn.

Well. She tried.

It was around 3 pm when the text message came through to Jack’s phone. Short and to the point...distinctly reminiscent of Margot.

Hi. It’s Margot. Do you have time to stop by today? Needed a second opinion.
 
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Jack had expected the gossip. He knew the arrival of a newcomer would be the talk of the week, if not weeks, to come. His grandfather had also spun some tales which Jack was called to correct when people chatted with him while he worked. And they did chat with him. A lot.

He had not expected to hear from Margot anytime soon. She had been pretty reluctant about it. She was probably going to need quite a bit of time to adjust to life in the countryside. If this wasn't just a temporary visit to then sell the farm. It would have been a shame if she did. That farm was quite the gem if one could dedicate the time it needed to make it work. His pocket buzzed as he was going through the vaccination papers of old Tom's stock. 'Hi. It’s Margot. Do you have time to stop by today? Needed a second opinion. '

Well, clearly he was wrong about his time estimation. Margot wanted a second opinion. He doubted she wanted to ask him about internal decoration or the likes, so he grew curious. 'Shift ends at 5. I can be there at 5.30?' He texted back, making a note to grab a sandwich from the dinner when it was time to leave work.

------
True to his word, at around 5.30, his motorcycle was pulling in Margot's driveway. He hopped off it, stirring his riding jacket at the carrier on the back while grabbing his small backpack at the same time. He wasn't about to leave his food unattended.

"Hey Margot, how's it going?" He asked with an ever-present smile on his face. His demeanor was calmer than when she first met him. mostly because he had been working for quite a while already. Difficult births did not distinguish between working hours and when it came to a precious mare even more so. He had been up and at 'em since 4am.
 
“Hey. I’m really glad you could make it.”

She was hardly recognizable. Gone was the city chic girl from yesterday. A disheveled girl in a dirty, oversized boiler suit fit for a mechanic hung in the doorway. Her hair was piled atop her head in a messy bun, and slight bags joined her eyes. Noticeably missing were her infamous red heels. It was replaced by something even more impractical: barefeet.

Margot was at her wit’s end. And it was written all over her face.

Where had it all gone wrong, she wondered? The tractor, maybe? Or the clearing out the tool shed?

No - she knew what had gotten her panties in a bunch. And if she could bet the root of her problems on anyone, it was that cursed old man Angus. A long sigh escaped her, and Margot shook her head at Jack.

“Thanks. I’m sorry but I - I didn’t know who else to call.”

Well. She didn’t know who else to call who wouldn’t bug her to death.

Quickly, she gestured with her hand at Jack to follow and set off towards the large barn in the distance, her bare feet glancing unscathed against the dirt and gravel.

“I just found it - her,” She corrected, “when I was fooling around cleaning up. Like, I don’t know what happened or where it came from but -”

Suddenly she whirled around, stopping.

“I’m sorry, did you...did you want some water or coffee or something…?”
 
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If Jack was a gambler, he would have bet he was looking just as overwhelmed and out of place when he had moved to vet college as Margot did right now. It really was an adjustment period and she seemed grateful and stressed? Was she stressed from whatever it was that she had found in the barn? The way she said it, Jack was certain it was an animal and he briefly wondered if he should get his medical bag from the motorcycle with him. Perhaps Margot was out of her mind because she wasn't expecting to encounter any animals? Jack was pretty sure Angus had sold all of his animals a long time ago. So it was most likely a wild animal and she didn't know how to react to it. A deer maybe? “Thanks. I’m sorry but I - I didn’t know who else to call.”
"Don't worry about it, I would have passed by anyway to get home. What's another stop?" He assured her with a wave of his hand.

“I’m sorry, did you...did you want some water or coffee or something…?” She paused as if remembering her manners and he shook his head. "I'm good, just let me grab my First Aid pack alright?" He said and quickly jogged back to his motorcycle and grabbed what looked like a standard red paramedic bag.

"Ok, all set." He announced as they resumed their walk. "Went from city girl to hardcore farmer overnight huh? Or is the animal so injured that you forgot your shoes?" He teased good naturedly as he also fished for some information on the animal's condition. He could have waited until they reached the barn, but a little banter and saving time never hurt anybody.