Chapter Text
The community centre smelt strongly of damp and decay. It was as if it were a physical manifestation of the decline that the town had faced in recent years. Lewis stood facing the empty, crumbling fireplace, his hands clasped behind his back, his head bent, and his eyes closed, a rolled up presentation board to his left. Something had to be done about this situation, and who else would the people of Pelican look to other than their stalwart Mayor? He was the one to offer them salvation, he was—
“Lewis, why on earth have you had us meet here and not Pierre’s like usual?” a voice questioned indignantly from behind him.
“Yeah! Don’t you know it’s bad for Maru’s asthma?”
“Uh, I don’t have asthma…”
“Really? Huh, you seem like the kind of person who would.”
Lewis’ brows furrowed as he scowled. It was a shame that the people he intended to save were the most stubborn, contrary, pain in the—
“Can you please stop acting all dramatic? We want to know why you’ve brought us all here.”
Finally, Lewis spun round. Before him, sitting on folding chairs and looking various degrees of bored, confused, and irate, was the entirety of Pelican Town. Even the two oddballs from the so-called ‘adventurers’ guild’ had made an appearance, though they sat in the gloom of the furthest corner, no doubt to maintain their mystique. Lewis was just glad he couldn’t smell them from here.
“I have gathered you all here today for a slightly different town meeting,” Lewis began and was immediately interrupted by Robin, who was holding up her hand. Lewis wasn’t sure why she’d bothered with the gesture when she went ahead and spoke anyway.
“Is the difference that we’re having it in a place that I strongly suspect has asbestos?”
Demetrius immediately looked horrified. “Why didn’t you tell me? I would have brought the gas masks!”
“Why do you even have gas masks?” Shane grumbled from the row behind.
“I knew that lab was suspicious!” hissed Pam. “This is like one of them Breaking Bads!”
Demetrius looked thoroughly confused. “I don’t know what Breaking Bads are, Pamela—"
“Of course you don’t,” muttered Sebastian from where he lounged (in a way that Lewis could only describe as insolently) with the other surly teenagers.
“But I assure you there is nothing untoward about my reasons. I handle a lot of spores and—“
“People, people, please!” Lewis used his best public speaking voice, hands outstretched. The gravitas he hoped to achieve was somewhat undermined by the fact his suspenders appeared to be held together by what suspiciously looked like duct tape. Nevertheless, the people of Pelican quieted down, if a little reluctantly.
“We have gathered here today,” he paused in the vain hope of generating a bit of suspense but when he saw Pam opening her mouth to speak again he hurried on, “To discuss the farmer.”
This at least had a few people perking up in their seats. Lewis smiled, pleased to finally have their full attention.
“As you may be aware, the community centre is one of the few places the farmer has yet to stick his no—uh, I mean yet to explore,” he quickly corrected himself.
“Yeah no kidding,” Pierre piped up. “You wouldn’t believe where I found him the other day! He was rooting around the back of my bookcase.”
“And why pray tell, Father, would he be interested in such a place?” Abigail drawled, eyes narrowed to match the twin expression on her mother’s face.
Pierre had gone an interesting shade of red but Lewis chose to ignore this. “Indeed, he does have a rather, uh, inquisitive mind,” Lewis chuckled awkwardly. “But! I believe all here would agree that his positive attributes outweigh these… oddities, tenfold!”
There were glances exchanged in the audience and a few nods, with responses varying from reluctant to enthusiastic.
“Best spuds I’ve seen in years,” Pam declared. “Joja taters taste like dirt. Bad dirt.”
“Pam, all dirt is bad dirt,” Sam said.
“Shows what you know, city boy,” Pam retorted with a snort.
“Yeah, Pierre, tell the farmer he’s a lifesaver,” Gus chimed in. “The food at the Stardrop has never been better.”
Pierre radiated pride as though he’d grown the crops himself. “Of course! I’ll make sure he knows he’s got a fan. After all, you’re looking at his exclusive distributor.”
“Got any hops yet?” Shane asked.
“The farmer’s latest harvest doesn’t have hops but I’ll put in a word for next season.”
“Good. Can’t keep making beer out of whatever Joja’s been calling ‘hops powder.’ It tastes like despair.”
“That’s precisely why we must keep the farmer here!” Lewis exclaimed, his voice cracking slightly as he seized the moment.
“Here, here!” Marnie clapped enthusiastically from the front row, beaming up at Lewis. When no one joined in, Marnie’s claps slowed and she began to blush ferociously. This made Lewis blush ferociously in return. There was muffled laughter and groaning from the rest of the assembly.
“The Mayor’s awkward love life aside,” Robin sighed, “I actually think Lewis has a point.”
“Me too!” Penny agreed enthusiastically before looking absolutely horrified as everyone’s attention shifted to her. “Uhm… it’s just… well, things have gotten better with him here.”
“Fewer monsters, for one,” came the gravelly old voice of Marlon from the back.
“Yeah, and some actual real-life changes too,” countered Shane sarcastically, earning glares from the ‘Guild’ of two. “I’ve cut down on my drinking.”
“You’re in the saloon every night,” Pam pointed out, a little hypocritically.
Shane shrugged. “Sure, but now I leave while I can still walk straight.”
“He’s helped with my robot designs! Penny only got mildly electrocuted this time,” Maru beamed at her friend, who hesitantly smiled back, eyes full of fear.
“The farmer has become my muse,” Elliott announced, his voice dreamlike, hand clutched to his chest. His theatrics caused Leah’s eyes to roll.
“Yes, yes, and all of that is truly a testament to how important he is to us, without a doubt,” Lewis acknowledged impatiently. “Which is why we need a plan!”
Lewis took this moment to unroll the presentation board beside him. In large bubble letters was written: OPERATION: KEEP THE FARMER IN PELICAN TOWN.
He gave them all a moment to take in what was written. It took longer than he had hoped. Finally, Emily gasped, breaking the silence that had fallen over the community centre.
“But how are we going to do that?” she exclaimed.
Lewis thought the question a little obvious but was glad for the opportunity to explain further. “Well, if we think of this meeting as Phase 1, I think the best way to proceed initially is to… gather data on the farmer,” he finished.
Dr Harvey narrowed his eyes. “Do you mean… spy?”
Lewis immediately sputtered. “Well, I—uh, well—”
“Yeah, this sounds… shifty as hell,” Abigail opined, then broke out in a grin. “Count me in.”
To Lewis’ horror, Sebastian and Sam wore matching, what he would describe as evil, grins.
“No! Nothing so insidious!” Lewis corrected hastily. “We need people who can observe the farmer, learn what he likes, what he dislikes, what might make him stay in Pelican Town for good. Subtly, of course.”
“Subtle, huh?” Shane grinned, leaning back in his chair. “Guess that rules out Pam.”
Pam gave an exaggerated snort. “Oh, please. I could be subtle if I wanted to. I’ll just invite him for a drink and work my charm. Nobody’s smoother than me after three rounds of pale ale.”
“I don’t think this is about getting him drunk, Mum,” Penny whispered despairingly.
Pierre stood from his chair, chest puffed out. “As the farmer’s exclusive distributor, I’m clearly the best choice. I’ve already built a professional rapport with him, and I can—”
“Oh, give it a rest, Dad,” Abigail interrupted. “The farmer doesn’t even like your prices.”
Lewis cut in quickly before Pierre could defend his margins. “Let’s focus, people! We need volunteers with specific skills.”
“I can take notes!” Penny offered eagerly. “He’s been donating fresh produce to the school lunch programme, so I could casually ask what other crops he’s planning to grow.”
Lewis wondered if providing lunches for two children could be counted as a ‘programme’.
Elliott was the next to stand up with a dramatic toss of his hair. “As a writer, my observational skills are unparalleled.”
“By observational skills, you mean finding poetic ways to tell him how good his arse looks in his jeans,” Sebastian said with a sly smile.
Elliott scoffed, drawing himself up to his full height. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, young Sebastian.” But the blush creeping up his neck betrayed him. “I assure you, my intentions are strictly… professional.”
Sebastian raised an eyebrow, smirking wider. “Sure they are.”
“Why not just ask him what he likes?” Maru asked. “Seems easier than, you know, all the sneaking around.”
“Where’s the fun in that?” Abigail grinned. “I think we should lure him into the mines. If he loves fighting slimes as much as I do, he’ll stay for sure.”
“That’s your solution?” Shane said, rolling his eyes. “Let him die a horrible death being attacked by monsters? Brilliant thinking, Abigail.”
“Enough!” Lewis bellowed. “This isn’t about mines or poetry or—or slime! This is about working together to make the farmer feel at home. So, if you want to help, go and subtly observe the farmer, then bring your best ideas to the next meeting. Reasonable ideas, mind you. Got it?”
The townsfolk exchanged glances. Some wore devious expressions, others nodded reluctantly, while a few appeared completely zoned out. Lewis sighed inwardly. Coordinating this town was like herding cats... if the cats were sarcastic, opinionated, and occasionally armed with slingshots.