Harvest Moon story chptr 3

Chapter 3
Seeds

Mol spent most of the evening repairing the fence that went around all of Avalon farm.  She wanted to be able to let the horse out to wander if he liked, at least until she had crops.  The gate was the hardest because there wasn’t one to begin with.  Mol had to construct one, and it didn’t look the best, especially seeing as she did most of the work during the after-dark hours.

Finally, with a passable gate constructed, she went inside and flopped down on the bed without undressing.  She was asleep in moments.

She  woke the next morning curled up on top of her covers.  Tip was whimpering and scratching at the door.  It took Mol a moment to realize that it was morning.  She blinked a few times and climbed stiffly out of her bed, disappointed in herself when she saw she hadn’t even managed to remove her boots.  Her feet felt a bit disgusting, but she didn’t have time to think about it, she was getting a horse today!

Mol drug the hairbrush though her blond hair and tied it back with a bandana.  She hoped when Ann came to deliver Skyguard she wouldn’t notice that Mol was wearing the exact same clothes as yesterday.  Mol hurried out the door, Tip scampering ahead of her and rushing off to do his business in some long grass.  Mol check all her fence work.  Not too bad for having been done at night.  Mol had wanted to be sure to have it all done in time for Skyguard.

Mol checked the gate.  It was a lopsided and a little hard to open, but not too bad.  The hinges were aging and rusty, she had taken them off of an old door she found leaning against the wall in the barn.  They were barely large enough to hold the gate in place.  Mol ran a hand over her head and sighed.  Oh well.  Skyguard was coming today whether she was ready or not.

Moll stood by her ramshackle gate for a while, listening to the morning birdsong and waiting for Ann to appear on the road from the Green Ranch.  An hour passed.  Mol was slumped against the fence now, beginning to think Ann wasn’t coming.  She sighed and glanced over her shoulder at her garden.  It was all cleared off and she did have seeds inside waiting to be planted.  After another quick look down the road and still no sigh of her friend and the horse Mol went inside and selected some seeds.

Cabbage seeds.  She flipped the little paper packet to read the planting instructions Popuri had written on the back for her.  Planting looked easy enough.  Mol slipped the seeds into her pocket and went into the barn for some tools.

Soon Mol was kneeling in the dirt, happily planting away.  She really felt she was getting the hang of it.  The soil was still cool from the evening and it felt great between her fingers.  Finally, here was something she could manage.  She was starting to feel like a real farmer at last.

“Ahem,” someone cleared their throat.

Mol straightened as though lightning had just struck her.  She turned around slowly and saw, to her great dismay, Grey was standing at her ramshackle gate with Skyguard.  She was instantly aware of how dirty she was, how shoddy the farm looked, and the fact that she was wearing the same clothes from yesterday. She tried to sweep sweat off her forehead with her hand but left a muddy streak.

Grey shifted his weight, watching her passively from under the brim of his hat.  He didn’t smile, but there was something about his posture that suggested he was amused.  Mol fumed.  She hated feeling shown up.

She stood up and wiped her hands on her overalls.  Tip came rushing over.  He threw both paws against the gate and wagged his tail wildly.  “Tip!  Off!” Mol shouted, worried the dog would spook Skyguard.  The horse barely flinched.  Grey raised an eyebrow, but otherwise didn’t react.

Mol rushed forward bumping the dog off the gate with her hip and trying to look dominant.  She remembered the way Ann behaved around her brother and decided to try to act the same way.  “Thanks for bringing Skyguard.  I thought Ann was going to bring him though.” she said coolly.

Grey shook his head, jamming his free hand into the pocket of his coveralls, “she had chores to finish so I said I’d bring the horse.”

“I see,” said Mol.  She grabbed the top bar of her gate and lifted, swinging it open with some difficulty, which she tried not to let show on her face.  Tip eagerly sprang out the gate and headed down the road, tail wagging in a wild spin of excitement.  “Tip!  Tip you stupid dog!  COME!” Mol shouted in exasperation.  Why did the dog have to pick now to misbehave?

Grey turned and before Mol could say anything more called, “Tip Come!” in the most amazingly forceful voice she had ever heard.

Tip tucked his tail as though he had been struck and turned around on the spot.  He came humbly trotting back up the lane, head low in apology.  Mol was torn between being upset that Grey had called Tip back when she couldn’t, and being hugely impressed.  She couldn’t deny that Grey exuded a dominant calm that was a little attractive.  Too bad he had all the personality of dung, Mol thought with an inward giggle.  “The stable is back this way,” she said aloud, indicating the way.

Grey strode past her, Tip tucking in behind before Mol manhandled the gate shut.  She hurried and caught up with Grey as he rounded her little house and headed for the partially open sided stall Mol had cleaned out.  With one easy motion Grey ushered the horse inside, patting Sky’s rump as he went.  He swung the half-door shut behind.  Then Grey stepped to the open side of the stall and slid Skyguard’s halter off.  He handed it to Mol, “here, this is his.”

“Thanks,” said Mol, hanging the halter and rope on a long nail.

“He’s got other tack I’ll bring by later,” said Grey.  “I figured it would be best to get him here first.  You do know how to look after a horse don’t you?”

Mol’s cheeks flushed.  She’d never actually had a horse before.  She’d loved every moment she was with them when she had been young, but it had been a long time.  “I-I…” she began uneasily.

Grey sighed and rolled his eyes.  “I see you have a water trough set up, have you got hay?”

“Not as such,” said Mol, feeling inept and stupid.  Why had she said she would take Skyguard, she was so unprepared.

“I’ll bring by a few bales when I get his tack for you,” said Grey, turning to lean against the half-wall and watch the brown horse sniff and blow as he examined his new home.

Mol was a little surprised that he was letting the hay issue slide without badgering her.  She still felt stupid none the less.  At least the dirt on her face was hiding her blush.  “anything else?” she asked, deciding to be humble when faced with the more experienced horseman, even if it was hard for her.

“Well, do you know how to ride?”

“I did,” said Mol, “when I was a child I used to ride my grandfather’s horse all over.”

“Good,” said Grey, “it should come back to you, though you will have to retrain your muscles.”

“Yeah,” agreed Mol thoughtfully.

“Hey Mol,” Grey hesitated, and looked down, the brim of his hat completely hiding his face.

“yeah,” she asked, very curious, but trying not to show it.

“There’s a festival coming in a few days.  The planting festival of spring.  Are you going?”

Mol was taken aback.  The festival may very well have been the farthest thing from her mind.  “I don’t know,” she said, “why?”

“Just wondering,” he answered briskly, leaning back and jamming his hands into his coverall pockets again.  “It’s a fun festival, you should come.”

“Okay,” said Mol confusedly.  “I’ll come I guess.”

Grey didn’t say anything else on the subject.  “I’ll go home and come back shortly with the tack for Skyguard.  You should check out the library and see if you can find some books on horse care some time.”

“yeah,” Mol bent down to pat Tip as he came trotting up to her.  The dog leaned his body against her legs for more attention.  “Thanks Grey,”

Mol caught a flash of Grey’s eyes, again captured by their brightness.  She blinked a few times and he had turned away again, face hidden from her once more.  Mol sighed and stroked Tip as she watched Grey climb over the gate rather than open it, and head off down the road.  “A festival huh?” Mol pondered aloud, “what on earth do you wear to a festival?”

Grey returned later with Skyguard’s tack and a few hay bales in a wagon pulled by a sturdy cart-pony.  He and Mol put the tack up on some shelves Moll had cleared in the barn.  Sky’s bridle, his brushes, his everyday saddle, and his much smaller and lighter racing saddle.  Grey said it had been Cliffguard’s but the big horse had outgrown it.  “It should fit Sky though.  He’s not as hefty as he brother,” Grey explained as he situated the saddles.  “Be sure you store the saddles and bridle properly,” he showed her how.

Mol watched raptly, soaking in every tidbit of advice Grey gave her.  She was almost starting to not hate the somber young man.  She also wondered if he had any expression besides a scowl.  Finally he left, and Mol was feeling pretty confident about her new knowledge as a horse owner.  She walked over to where Sky was standing quietly in his stall.  She talked to and stroked the horse for at least an hour before returning to work on the garden with a light heart, forgetting
entirely how nervous she had been about being a horse owner.

The next day Mol woke early to spend the morning hours with Skyguard, then she cleaned herself up a bit, putting on a decent shirt and one of her light skirts.  She realized she didn’t have any nice shoes, so she decided that wearing her boots was as good as it was going to get.  There was a full length mirror in her cabin and she grimaced at her reflection.  “Forget about any of the boys in town noticing me,” she sighed.  “Or if they do it’ll be because I’m weird looking.”

Mol grabbed her money and, with Tip in two, headed for the village, specifically to get groceries and go to the library.

She ended up spending several hours with Elli.  Elli was definitely talkative, but at the same time easy to listen to.  Mol preferred people who likes to talk, as she wasn’t much of a chatter herself.  As Elli selected the best deals on canned fruits and veggies, as well as dried meat and some more food for Tip, she talked and talked.  Mol liked to hear the gossip, even if she didn’t know many of the people being talked about.  “Karen is totally crushing on Rick.  You know Rick, the one who’s always got his glasses wearing nose stuck in a book, or pouring over blueprints for a hair brained new idea?  Yeah.  I don’t know what she see’s in him anyway honestly.  He’s kinda boring and Karen is so wild a free spirited you know?”

Mol didn’t know, but she nodded anyway, enjoying the free scoop of ice cream Elli had offered her.  It was another overly warm spring day.  Elli went on about how every boy in town had their sites on Popuri, “of course.  She’s got the perfect figure, and she’s so bubbly and friendly, what guy could resist?” Elli sighed, putting a jar of canned peaches into the basket Mol had brought for her groceries.

Mol nodded.  Popuri was extremely beautiful.  Mol looked down at her own scrawny frame.  She already had tough muscles developing on her arms and her legs were certainly stronger.  Not a great look for a lady.  Part of her wanted to ask Elli if Grey liked Popuri too, but she thought better of it.  Of course he did.  How could he not?  “Elli?’ she asked after a moment, licking her ice cream spoon clean.

“Yeah?” Elli stopped bustling around for a moment to lean on the counter at which Mol was sitting.

“What is the Seed Festival, or whatever it’s called?”

Elli laughed, “you heard about that huh?  It’s just a little thing we do in the spring, but there is a hot air balloon involved.”

“Really,” Mol sat forward, “that sounds fun.  Can anyone ride in it?”

“No,” Elli shook her head, her short brown hair bouncing as she did.  “Only the Harvest King gets to.  The Harvest King is selected every winter at the Cake Festival.”

“How many Festivals are there?’ asked Mol.

Elli laughed again, a hearty, sweet laugh that made Mol want to join her.  “We have lots.  We like a good party around here.  Besides, most of us are farmers, so anything that we can get to break up the every day hum-brum is great for us.”

“I bet,” agreed Mol, sipping the melted ice cream out of her dish.  “I better get going.  I want to stop at the library and then home for more chores.”

“Alright,” said Elli.  “Say hello to Mary for me.  She’s the librarian.  I’ll see you at the Festival then Mol, if not before!”

“Right,” agreed Mol as she and Tip left the shop, basket of groceries carried in the crook of Mol’s arm.

Mol liked the library, it was cool and quiet.  Shafts of dusty light slanted in through tall windows to illuminate the rows of perfect book spines.  Mary, the librarian, was also Mayor Thomas’ daughter, and a more striking contrast Mol had never seen.  While the mayor was flamboyant and over the top, Mary was quiet and shy.  She flitted around the library like one of the specks of dust in the window light.  There then gone again.  She wore a sensible blue dress and her dark hair was pulled back in a braid.  She also wore some very thick glasses.

Mol had to leave Tip outside as Mary squeaked with fear at the sight of the dog.  “Sorry,” Mol said, shutting the door on the confused Tip.  “he’s harmless.  He loves people.”

Mary shrugged, blushing, “I’m sorry,” she said in a tiny voice, “I just don’t like dogs.  I’m sure he’s a fine dog though…can I help you find a book?”

Mol asked about horsemanship books and soon Mary was leading the way quietly through the library.  Mol tried to thank her for helping prepare the house for Mol’s moving in.  Mary barely spoke loudly enough to be heard as she answered, “you’re welcome.”

When Mol left her arms were piled high with books about horses, but she was pleased and looked forward to reading them.  She called to Tip, who hurried over from where he had been sniffing some plants around a small wooden house.  Mol wondered if this was Zach’s house.  Supposedly he lived near the library.  The mayor’s house was there of course, towering over every building in the village except the church steeple.

Mol and Tip headed home.  Mol told Skyguard all about her day that evening, as the sun set in brilliant hues.  The horse listened quietly and munched his hay.  Mol made a mental note to fence off the garden soon so she could let the horse out to roam, and graze the yard.  He would definitely be a big help in keeping the tall grass looking tidy.

Finally Mol went inside.  It was dark, and she fumbled for the lanterns.  Then she sat on the edge of her bed, Tip already curled up at it’s foot.  Slowly she sifted through he books she selected from the library.  All but one were books about horses.  The last was a book all about the town traditions.  Mol flipped through eagerly.  There certainly were a lot of festivals.  She frowned as she opened to a page with the large words “Flower Festival”  She read on.  Apparently the Flower Festival also took place in the spring.  This was when that years ‘Queen’” was chosen.  She would ride with the king the next year in the hot air balloon and also have other duties at different festivals through out the year.  It sounded interesting.  Mol frowned when she looked at a picture of a ‘Queen’ of the Flower Festival.  She was beautiful, long hair flowing in liquid curls down her back, dress like spun water.  Mol wondered if this was a picture of one of Popuri’s relatives.

Mol set the book down, “well Tip, I think we can rule out me ever being queen can’t we?”

The Tip looked up and the very end of his tail gave a few little wags.  Mol ruffled his head-fur affectionately.  “Well, let’s see what you’re supposed to wear to this Seed Festival.” she paged back.  “This sure looks fun!” she said looking at the pictures, “it would be wonderful to get to ride in that balloon.  I bet when you get up high you can see the city.  I could wave at my father; not that he’d see me.  Still, it would sure feel good.  I really do wanna show him how great I’ve been doing here.  I mean, the work’s hard, but I’m already making friends and even have a horse.  Maybe tomorrow I’ll repaint the sign for the Ranch.  Hanging it will be a problem, I don’t think we have a ladder tall enough ot nails long enough, but oh well.  I’ll figure it out.”

The dog had fallen back asleep.  Mol chuckled.  She slipped out of her clothes and into her nightgown.  She was already beginning to love the soothing sound of the crickets, and the occasional sound of Skyguard blowing chaff from his nose as he finished his dinner.  In a few days there’d be a festival and she was going!  This might actually be kinds fun.


Over the next few days Mol managed to rip down the sign, which still hung stubbornly by one nail to the old posts over the Ranch’s entry.  She dragged it to the barn and sat it across two cow stantions for later painting, when she had paint and brushes, she explained to a watchful Tip.  Then Mol set about building a fence around the garden.  She found more planks of wood in the hay loft for the slats, but driving in the posts was mercilessly hard work.  Mol’s arms were numb after only one post, and after two of three she couldn’t keep going.  She was about to despair when Zach arrived with little May sitting on his shoulders.  The child took in the situation at a glance and ordered her father to go help.

Soon Mol was sitting in the grass with May and Tip, grudgingly allowing Zach to drive in the posts.  The strong man made amazingly short work of it.  By the time the sun set almost all the posts were driven in.  Mol made the best supper she could muster for them when they were done.

Zach sat enjoying his meal heartily while May chatted away in the manner of small children, “So Mol, do you know there is going to be a festival tomorrow?” she asked, dark eyes bright.

“I do,” Mol answered, serving up some more bread.  She really would have to learn to make her own, buying it from Elli was not going to be a long term solution.

“So what…what…what are you going to wear?”

“Not sure,” Mol mused, walking over to her wardrobe.  She opened the large doors revealing most of the clothes she owned hanging inside.  May slid down from here chair to stand beside Mol.

“That’s a pretty dress,” May pointed with a plump finger.

“Oh no,” chuckled Mol.  “That one is far too nice.  Not to be worn by farmers like me. It was my mother’s.”

May nodded understandingly and Mol remembered that little May had also lost her mother.  “Here,” May selected a green skirt and white top, “how about these?  You’re supposed to wear green.   For growing things.”

“These might be nice,” Mol took the clothes down and lay them on her bed.

“I think those will look great!” cheered May eagerly.  “Try them on!  I want to see!”

Mol blushed.  Her little cabin only had the one room.  There was no where she could go to privately change.  Zach saw her distress and walked over to pick up his child.  He swept the giggling May onto his shoulders as though she weighed nothing, “come now my little flower.  You’ll see Mol tomorrow at the festival and you can compare dresses then alright?”

“Alright,” said May, her eyes already drooping with sleepiness.

“Thanks again for helping me so much,” said Mol.  She was growing more at ease with accepting aid, especially from the big, kind Zach.  It would hurt his feelings greatly if she did not, and she would never want to hurt the gentle man’s feelings.

“You’re most welcome,” smiled Zach, “We’ll be seeing you tomorrow then?”

“Yes.  Definitely,” agreed Mol as she showed them to the door.

“Good night!” Zach called as he headed down the road, little May already snoozing on his shoulder.

“Good night,” Mol called back.  She went back inside, cleared away the dishes, and went to bed almost at once.

The next day Mol woke early.  She could hear the distant crows of chickens from the Green Ranch.  Mol hurried to do her chores, not spending nearly as much time with Skyguard as she normally did, but promising the horse twice the attention the next day.

Then Mol went inside and put on the clothes May had suggested.  They did look nice on her, and fit the season well.  Then she spent almost an hour trying to figure out what to do with her hair.  She finally settled on leaving it down.  She had never been very good at figuring out hair styles anyway, she thought as she looked at herself in the mirror.  Again there was the shoe issue so she decided to go barefoot, as it seemed alright for a spring festival.

Finally, with Tip striding eagerly beside her, she headed for town.  Mol could hear the voiced of people long before she climbed the steps to the square.  There was so much bustle and noise, Mol was almost intimidated and turned back.  She balled her hands into fists and decided she could be brave and face all those people.

She walked into the square with what she hoped was a confident stride.  Almost at once she was assailed upon by her friends.  Popuri was chattering eagerly, Elli was all smiles, and Ann grabbed her arms to lead her this way and that.

“You’ll need a balloon!” cried Popuri, who Mol saw was holding a pink balloon by a string.  In fact all the girls had them.  Each balloon had a little bag tied to the end, a weight, Mol suspected.

Ann rushed her over to a stall where Lillia stood.  She smiled and greeted her at once, “hello dear!  I’m so glad you made it!  What color balloon would you like?”

“Uhm…whatever you have handy,” Mol shrugged.

“here dear,” Lillian handed her a white balloon, “now you do know the rules right?  No letting it go until the mayor says.”

“Yes,” Mol wished she had read more about the festival than what you were expected to wear.  She looked up at her balloon, about to ask what it was for when a shout went up from the center of the square.  Mol looked up, following many pointing hands.  It was the hot air balloon.

Mol silted her head back, mouth falling open in awe.  It was an impressive sight indeed..  I hovered lazily, slowing coming to earth.  Several ropes were dropped and men hurried forward to grab them and guide the massive balloon to earth.  The basket that was suspended below the balloon rested lightly on the cobblestones.  Mol felt a rush as people moved forward to try and see.  She was almost pushed down, but the surge of people trying to see, but Ann and Elli grabbed her arms and kept her upright.

The balloon operator waved as he stood in the basket, seeming to enjoy the glory he received for simply landing in their square.

Mol noticed that Grey was one of the men who was holding the basket on the ground.  He looked less than thrilled, but then again, he seldom looked happy.  She noted some of the other young men standing with Grey.  A well muscled, dark skinned man wearing a bandana.  He kept winking at the girls and Popuri had left Elli and Ann’s side to try to get his attention.  There was also Rick, the red head with thick glasses.  He too looked as though he didn’t exactly want to be there.  Then there was a young man with dark hair who was taller than the others.  “The post man,” Elli explained when Mol asked her.

“I guess that explains why I’ve never seen him,” Mol chuckled.  “I never get any mail.”

Elli wasn’t listening, she was waving at another young man.  This one Mol recognized from Elli’s diner.  “Hey honey!” Elli shouted, jumped up and down slightly.

“They’re an item,” said Ann with a chuckle.

“How about you Ann?  Anyone on your radar?” asked Mol, turning her attention from the balloon to notice that her friend wasn’t waving at any of the young men.

“Nope,” said Ann.  “I think I scare the boys.  I’m too independent, that’s what my father says.”

“And your mother?”

Ann faltered, “Mol she’s….”

“Oh Ann I forgot!  I’m so sorry,” said Mol hurriedly.  “My mother’s gone too.  So maybe we were meant to be friends huh?” she tried desperately to make the subject less heavy.  Mol wasn’t good at emotional conversations.

“yeah,” Ann’s face brightened slightly.  She turned back to watch the balloon.  Finally she did wave to her brother.  Grey looked up at his sister, but when he saw Mol standing with her he looked down hurriedly, his face once again covered by his hat.  “He’s so rude,” sighed Ann.

“He invited me to come to this festival and he sure doesn’t seem to be enjoying it himself,” Mol pointed out.

“He invited you?  Huh,” Ann looked confused.

Mol would have questioned further but the Mayor appeared, standing on a crate.  He was dressed even more brightly than when Ann had first come to town.  Mol heard Mary call out, “Hi daddy!” as the Mayor tried to get everyone’s attention.

“Hello dear,” the Mayor smiled at his daughter.  “Ahem!” he spoke loudly.  A general hush went over the crowd.  Everyone managed to drag their eyes away from the balloon.  “Yes!  Thank you all for coming to this wonderful festival.  I hope you have all enjoyed it thus far, and I hope you will enjoy the picnic afterward!  Now it is time for the truly wonderful tradition of our festival: the sowing of this years first seeds!  Once again the seeds are kindly donated by Lillia and her flower shop!  Thank you Lillia!”

There was a pause in the  mayor’s speech while everyone clapped for the Lillia, who stood up and bowed slightly, smiling broadly.  Then the mayor continued, “as you all know, this symbolic scattering of seeds is our small way of welcoming in the spring and the growing season.  Please be sure to participate!”

“If a flower from the scattered seeds grows in your garden it is supposed to bring you good luck,” Ann whispered to Mol.

“And now, our King of the Festivals will come forward and step into the balloon!” the mayor cried happily.

Mol watched as one of the men who was holding the hot air balloon stepped humbly forward.  It was the postman, Mol saw at once..  He was blushing and looking extremely shy as he walked over to the mayor.  “Harris, good to see you my lad,” said the mayor, clapping the man on the shoulder, “Now,” the mayor addressed the crowd again, “will our queen please step forward!”

The crowd parted and Mary slid through to stand before her father.  She was still dressed fairly plainly, but Mol could see she was wearing a dainty tiara nestled in her dark hair.  May and Harris couldn’t seem to make eye contact.  Ann laughed quietly, nudging Mol, “Those two are terrible.  They huge crushes on each other and neither will ever act on it because their both so shy.”

Mol smiled, watching as Harris held out his arm for Mary.  Both Harris’s arm and Mary’s hand were visible shaking.  The two walked slowly over to the balloon where the pilot opened a small door in the basket.  Harris helped Mary step lightly into the basket then climbed in easily after her.  Soon the men holding the ropes were instructed to let go.  There was a blast of sound as the operator tugged a rope which sent fire blasting to re-inflate the balloon.  Soon it was moving slowly, rising off the ground.  The crowd cheered.

Mol watched as the balloon drifted quietly into the air, it’s silence only interrupted by the blasts of fire that made it rise.  She noticed that the man holding the ropes drifted into the crowd.  Elli was standing with the man from the diner.  They were holding hands.  Popuri was still trying to get the attention of the handsome dark-skinned man.  It seemed that even Rick had his eye on a tough looking blond girl, who scowled at him.  She and Ann stood basically alone in the crowd of paired off couples.  Mol briefly searched for Grey, but he had slipped into the crowd and was nowhere to be seen.

After a long moment the balloon was very high up and then, suddenly, Mol ‘s upturned face was struck with several small, hard objects, like grains of sand.  She looked at Ann who was holding out her free hand to catch the small particles from the sky.  Ann saw Mol’s confused look, “they’re the seeds!  Most of them get blown all over the countryside by the wind, but some still fall right back into the square.  Most people take them home to plant in their gardens for luck.

“Oh,” said Mol, holding out her hand.  Three dark seeds fell onto her palm.  She folded them into her hand and then dropped them in the pocket of her skirt.

“Alright!” said the mayor, “it’s time to release our balloons!” a dark haired woman who Mol could only assume was the mayor’s wife, handed than man a bright red balloon.  The mayor checked the crowd to make sure everyone was ready, then he let his balloon go.  It drifted into the air, the little packet on it’s string wasn’t heavy enough to hold it down.

Mol checked the packet at the end of her own balloon’s string.  It was indeed very light.  Just a cloth with small round things inside.  “Seeds,” Mol breathed aloud.

“Yup,” said Ann, releasing her own balloon eagerly, eyes alight.

Mol raised her hands and let her own white balloon go floating away over the heads of the crowd to be carried away to parts unknown.  Mol wondered if her balloon would float back to the city and plant a perfect flower in her father’s front yard.  She smiled at the thought, and at how truly unlikely that would be.

After every balloon was let go everyone settled down to enjoy some picnicking.  Mol ended up eating with Elli and her boyfriend Jeff.  The food was excellent.  Mol kept shooting glances towards Ann’s family, father daughter and brother all seated together on a checked blanket.  Mol watched Grey.  He talked little, but didn’t seem to be hating the experience.  They packed up and left fairly quickly however.  Mol waved goodbye to Ann as they went, but Grey wouldn’t even glance over at her.  He is very rude, Mol thought to herself.  To invite her to the festival and then not even talk to her.

Finally Elli and Jeff packed up their picnic.  Mol helped them put away the remaining food.  Elli had cooked enough to feed a small army.  Then Mol went home.  Tip met up with her at the entrance to the square.  She smiled down at the dog, who looked as full as she felt.  “Did you have a good time begging food off of everyone there?” she asked, ruffling Tips ears.

Tip wagged his tail, and for once walked as slowly as she as they made their quiet way back home.  The walk to her farm seemed long, and Mol still had a few chores to do once she got there, so when Mol’s head finally hit the pillow she was out like a light, dreaming of her fist ever festival in her new home town.