FicWad

Time for chapter two.

Mineral Town was a true quaint beauty. The tiny town was nestled in the glorious mountains surrounding Mother's Hill, the highest pinnacle for miles. It looked a place only seen in books and movies, but a few people called it home. So few people, in fact, that everyone knew everything about their neighbors' affairs.

Makoto zoned in and out as Thomas took him through a tour of the back woods and Mother's Hill. The Mayor was sure to mention every bit of Mineral Town knowledge he knew, when it was founded, the tall tales of the first residents, and what Doug Flannery always cooked for his Sunday specials at the Inn. Then he went on to talk about the great people of Mineral Town. Makoto listened a bit to all the stories he could recall about the old man, but mostly caught bits of information such as: "He wrestled bears," and "He travelled very often to exotic locale because he knew so many interesting people.".

Makoto wondered how often a busy farmer would actually visit exotic locale, but then thought of 'exotic locale' as the boardwalk across from Mineral Town the Mayor mentioned earlier.

Upon stopping back at the entrance to the forest, Thomas turned enthusiastically to Makoto.

"Anyways, where would you like to go now? We can head towards the beach, or just straight ahead to the north end of town?" he asked with a warm smile. When Makoto didn't reply, Thomas felt something amiss, and turned to look at him.

Makoto held his left palm over his right forearm, near his elbow.

"Umm... the fence cut me..." he pointed to a jagged piece of wood protruding from the fence of the farm.

"Let me see, Makoto."

The color drained from Thomas's face as he stared at Makoto's wound. The shreik he let out possibly killed some small woodland creatures.

"It's... really not that big a deal," Makoto told him, hoping he would calm down.

"What do you mean it's not that big a deal!?" the Mayor cried. With that, Makoto reached forward and clamped a hand on the Mayor's shoulder. It took a while for the Mayor to calm down once he met his poker-faced eyes.

"Really," Makoto muttered. "I'm fine."

"I guess..." Thomas said with a sigh. "Come on, then. Our first stop should be the clinic."

"Oh well," Makoto said. He looked over and noticed the Mayor staring at his wound again with his face contorted in disgust.

-------

A young, short-haired brunette stood behind the reception desk at the clinic, jotting down something or another with a look of boredom tattooed on her face. Insurance forms first thing in the morning proved a lot of fun, as she always thought. About as much fun as watching paint dry.

Then the doors burst open. That usually wasn't a good sign.

The receptionist looked up, absolutely boggled at the sight of the Mayor dragging Makoto inside by the pant leg. Makoto shrugged at her. Then the Mayor left him in the middle of the lobby and approached the receptionist. He spoke in a whisper.

"Listen," he said. "He thinks I'm crazy, but he cut himself on a fence, and..." His face went wan. "DEAR GOD!! HELP THIS BOY!!! HE'S GOING TO DIE!!!" Thomas screamed, falling to his knees.

Makoto, still grasping his arm, exchanged a strange look with the receptionist. Then he looked down at Thomas. With that, the receptionist turned to Makoto.

"Is there something the matter?" she asked him sweetly.

Makoto shook his head as he looked again at Thomas as he wept on the floor.

"Really, I'm fine," he told the receptionist.

"HOW CAN YOU SAY THAT!?!?" Thomas cried. Makoto sighed.

The receptionist noticed Makoto covering his arm, and shot him a glare.

"Move your hand, please."

"I said I'm fine," Makoto grumbled.

"Just move your hand," the girl repeated cooly.

Once Makoto showed her his wound, she said:

"So, how are you fine? You're bleeding profusely!" Makoto shrugged in reply. Without another word, the receptionist grabbed Makoto's arm and laid it over the desk. Makoto watched as she cleaned the wound, and wrapped it up in a bandage. Then she smiled back up at Makoto.

"All done!" she announced.

Makoto looked at his arm, and then got a look at her fair-skinned face and warm, brown eyes. Nodding, he reached into his pocket.

"No need to pay," a stern-sounding voice said from behind. Everyone turned to see the dark-haired doctor of the clinic, hands shoved into his lab coat pockets. Makoto thought he must have been standing there the whole time as he was nodding approvingly of the job his nurse had done. He looked young: but his career as a doctor left his age rather ambiguous.

"So you're the Sergeant?" the Doctor extended a hand. "I'm the Doctor." All the while, he kept a poker-faced expression on his face. Makoto took his hand and shook it. "Well, we should get you started out on your medical records," the Doctor continued. "Stop by tomorrow."

Thomas looked at his watch, and gave Makoto a tug.

"Come along now, Makoto. We've still got more to see, and I'm sure you're going to want to get to work soon."

Makoto nodded. But before he followed Thomas, he looked over his shoulder to see the receptionist waving to him as he left. When she flashed him a smile, he nervously diverted his gaze.

-------

Later that morning, Makoto found himself sifting through an old, creaky tool chest in the corner of the house. The sight of the dilapidated tools led him to contemplate which pile of rust was least likely to disintegrate. He decided to grab them all and head outside. When he stepped onto the shaded porch, he noticed a built man standing by the shipping box. His brown hair was cropped into a vertical brush-cut, and between his sweat-stained muscle shirt and towel around his neck, he looked like a professional body-builder.

"Now... where's Makoto...?" he muttered to himself as he looked around. Makoto waved from the porch.

"Over here!" he called. The burly man spun around, and arched an eyebrow at Makoto's appearance. After all, Makoto looked too skinny to have the strength to carry all those tools, much less handle the farm labor.

"Ah! There you are! Come out over here, I wanna meet you!"

Makoto, tools in hand, emerged from the porch. The burly man tugged at his towel a bit as he wasted no time for his introductions.

"I'm Zack, and I'll be your shipper!" Makoto managed to catch his name, but all he really noticed besides that was that Zack was even taller than he was. Zack turned and pointed to the large, wooden crate, nailed into the ground. "Just put anything in there you want to ship. I'll come pick it up every working day at five... that's every working day. Non-working days are festival days. I need some time off too, likewise everyone else, huh?"

"Yeah," Makoto agreed awkwardly, looking up at him.

"Of course!" Zack beamed. "So you can start off by foraging up by Mother's Hill. Maybe one day you can ask Basil-" he jerked a thumb down the road,"-to teach you about the herbs up there, or read up on it or something." Zack looked over Makoto's shoulder at an apple tree. "By the way, you can sell some honey from that bee hive too, and you'll get some apples in the autumn."

Makoto nodded again.

"Okay then! I guess that's everything." Zack glanced at his watch. "I'll come back at around five then, got it?" Makoto nodded.

After Zack left, Makoto went about doing some foraging and weeding. He worked late into the night, clearing as much as he could with mostly his own raw strength. His body ached by the time he finished at midnight. He went inside and threw himself onto his bed. But as the hours passed, he realized he wouldn't be able to fall asleep.

He crept back into the living room, almost as if he was an intruder in the house. It took some time after groping the walls to find the light switch. Once the room lit up, he sat onto the sofa.

The old man seemingly stared at him from the pictures on the wall. With his bearish frame, he certainly looked like someone who could handle all the labor of the farm. Also, as Makoto noticed, he looked kind and friendly.

"Why me, old man?" Makoto asked aloud, half-expecting a reply from him.