Lost in Happy Hollow

Chapter 1: A Whole World Out There

 It was a lovely afternoon of May when birds and bees fluttered across the fields of Grafton County, in the city of Campton, swirling with the warm wind. They gradually announced spring was almost over and welcomed the long summer days and hot summer nights. A steamy breeze blew the yellowish grass of those vast fields, creating a viscous texture to the touch, yet one of the driest of sensations. Every garden of every farmhouse was filled with blossoms from the past flourishing season while all the trees and patches felt empty without their fruits and vegetables that everyone collected to make niceties to their neighbors. Apple pies, lemonade, pumpkin tarts and raspberry jam in mason jars were constantly gifted during the blissful month of harvest, bringing the neighbors together from all farmhouses of every village from Grafton County in the countryside of New Hampshire in the United States.

As Emilia Clarke stared out of her window, swinging back and forth on her rocking chair and for a moment looking away from her book, she inhaled the hot oxygen and exhaled the ever-lasting boredom in the comfort of her living room. To her, windows were a funny thing, drawing her attention to the majestic view of the natural world, endlessly making her think about everything and nothing at the same time. In the village of Blair, things seemed to be going south, for not one living soul of any farmhouse had ever put one foot outside their wooden homes throughout the entire month. Going into the barns for eggs or to the patches for corn didn't look quite appealing to the lazy Blair farmers. Everyone was just being baked inside due to the heat, suits, ties and corsets, rather than baking cakes and cookies. It was a cursed year, for the village of Blair had never skipped a harvest nicety giveaway since the 1870s. The fact that the village she lived in was not preparing anything for harvest season bewildered her because helping her parents out with the farm work was the only thing that kept her busy during the summer. Honestly, for the past two years, the magic and fun of it had vanished, for she had already reached a more mature age and had little interest in collecting fruits and tilling the soil. She would rather read novels and create fake scenarios in her head while staring at the astounding beauty of the White Mountains. Those gigantic and rocky mounts of whiteness that could be seen through that same living room window, embracing the entire County, covering the horizon as far as her eyes could see.

During the past few weeks, school had become one of the little blisses she got to enjoy before summer break began. Even though she didn't really have any friends, she was able to learn new things and explore even further the philosophical and historical aspects of American literature and other subjects as well, becoming academically smarter to finally succeed in the novelist career she desired so much! Now that it was almost over, she felt miserable. It wasn't only going to be over for a month or two, from now on, school would be over forever. She knew that there were other ways of learning new things but none seemed half as magical as carrying her books and slate to sit on the wooden desks and raise her hand for questions while staring at the window, as usual, daydreaming about a romantic ideal.

Now, she sat and wondered, looking around the Victorian living room at the mahogany furniture and through the glass windows, which refracted the strong rays of light from that sunny afternoon. She sat there and waited, and waited, and waited. Trying to understand what was going on with her village, how she felt about that and what decisions could be made to bring back life to the Grafton County she loved so much. What wouldn't she do to protect and help her people? She'd do anything with great honor and pride! Rather than a simple tradition, harvest niceties were folklore, were history, were art. If one wasn't to make something out of their own farm cultivation, even as simple as bringing a basket of peaches to someone's porch, one must be completely insane for not doing such a thing! Almost seen as an egotistic and selfish act. Emilia believed that a County was much more than just a group of people. It's an entire community, and if love, compassion, respect and hospitality don't reign over a neighborhood it shall not strive, bringing forward hate, disgrace, ruin and gossip.

What could have happened, then? What spell was cast upon the back then lovely neighbors but now so distant and divided? That was a question no one could answer, especially because most hadn't even asked it to themselves.

Rising up to the occasion and from her seat, standing upon the seventeen years of her life, Emilia took a deep breath, tying her dark brown wavy hair with a red-wine ribbon, and, with her own hands, brushing the skirt of her long silk and cotton light pink gown. There must be something she could do to save her community from drowning into the orphic boredom that had been installed in the village of Blair in the summer of 1893. Not fully knowing what could be done, she fetched her lilac silk umbrella, a basket of bright red apples and the book she had once been reading before her mind started wandering off.

With burning ideas and just for the sake of it's adventurous euphoria, her shiny eyes widened and a big smile was drawn to her face as she broke free from monotony, banging the doors open as she ran, feeling the, now chilly, wind blow across her entire being. Some meters away from the farmhouse, her parents watched her, clueless, screaming phrases like "Where are you going?" and "What are you doing?" as if it were an easy question to answer. She couldn't help herself but run as fast as she could for purely energetic reasons of happiness, with the same smile on her face. At some point, she stopped abruptly, holding on to her knees for support and breathing heavily, realizing all her apples had flown away from her basket. She picked them up one by one and went back to her house walking, for most of her energy had been used up. Her parents stood by the door with befuddled looks on their faces. Her mom was quite shocked, while her dad, somewhat angry.

"What are you doing?" they asked in perfect harmony with that strong New Hampshire accent.

"You know... just trying to have some FUN!" she bursted happily with strands of hair falling into place and random hay pieces. "I just wanted to do something different. Things seem to have changed a bit this summer, I am just attempting quality time."

"Quality time?"

"Yes! And along with that, I desire to find out why. Why this is happening to our community."

"What do you mean, exactly?" asked her mom, baffled by her courage and amused by her excitement.

"I am willing to find out what happened to our fellow neighbors for not preparing the usual niceties this year," she answered, still hopeful.

They looked at her with a confused yet hopeless look, not understanding how running into the wild would help solve any problems. They had no choice but to let her go into this fanciful idea of looking for an adventure to end up solving the County's issue. By agreeing with that matter, Emilia jumped up and down, glad to hear their response, hugging them tenderly. Turning around, with prosperous eyes, she looked at the golden vast fields of Grafton radiantly.

"This is going to be the right thing!" she said to herself in glee, strolling along the low hills and valleys where she could be seen with her hair being blown by the wind in the distance.