Taking Root (Stardew Valley - Shane)

Chapter Eight

It was almost frightening how quickly a full course meal of excitement and anticipation could turn to a soup of nervousness and self doubt. With a small gulp, I pushed the feelings deep down my oesophagus and continued venturing forward, my clumsily-laced boots hitting the ground like the soft drum beat of my heart against my ribcage.

"Sophie! Thank the sweet heavens. You're here to save me from boredom." Emily chimed, directing me with her extravagant hand gestures to a stool at the bar, just inches away from where she was working. She turned to meet the stern gaze of an older man to her left, and flashed him a pretty smile. "I'm only joking, Gus."

Gus. Another name to a face. In his case, a very spherical face - one that I assumed, if I had a ruler on me to check, would measure the same from ear to ear as from forehead to chin. He sported one of the most glorious moustaches I had seen in a long time - but then again, I could count on one hand the amount of men I knew that grew extravagant facial hair. The moustache did nothing to hide Gus' bulbous nose, though. That thing could draw the eye no matter how the owner groomed it's surroundings.

"Is your friend the new farmer, by any chance?" Gus spoke with a baritone voice, hearty and from the chest. His voice had the faint affliction of an Italian accent - it seemed diluted, like a lingering aftertaste of orange juice in a fresh glass of water.

"Yeah, it's nice to meet you! I'm Sophie." I greeted Gus with a friendly smile as I took my place on the faded red fabric of the bar stool, crossing my arms across the sticky wooden counter so I could lean forward slightly.

"I'm glad to see you, Sophie! It's great to have another friendly face in here." Gus exclaimed, grabbing my left hand momentarily to sandwich it between both of his palms. It didn't take too long before another customer fought for his attention, and within minutes he was at the other side of the bar, pulling a pint of ice cold beer and chatting up a storm with the locals.

"Oh, I forgot- you obviously want a drink, right?" Emily enquired, tracing her index finger around the rim of a tall glass. "Beer? Or something else?"

"I'll just have lemonade, if that's okay." I wasn't really in the mood for alcohol just then - and I didn't like beer, anyway. I don't know how anyone can like beer. It tastes like liquified bread. Which is strange, because bread is delicious. It is a food item that was quite literally crafted in heaven and delivered to us as a reminder of all that is good in this world. But do I want to drink it? Do I want it blended up into a carbonated soup the colour of radioactive urine? 

Emily fixed a crisp lemonade up in seconds, and as she moved away momentarily to fulfil the call of another customer, I watched the stream of miniscule bubbles on their journey from the very bottom of the glass to the freedom of air atop. My attention was eventually diverted, though, when I realised it was Shane's request that she was attending to.

I let my eyes drift from the counter to where he stood, only one or two arm-lengths away from me. He hadn't sat down at any point. Rather, he leaned against the aged, wooden slats of the panelled wall behind him, with his eyes not focussing on anything in particular - glazed over, wholly uninterested. I had the almost unsettling feeling that, no matter what situation could possibly arise in this moment, he wouldn't care at all for it. In any of the five billion alternate realities that split off from this moment in time, I wouldn't find anything that could evoke an emotion other than plain and simple apathy.

I noticed the dusty glass lamp that hung half a metre above his head, fixed haphazardly to the wall and emitting a soft ambient light. It was pretty funny, really. It shone like a halo, as if crowning the person standing below an angel - a luminary. But it was just Shane. Tired, distant Shane.

"You're staring a hole straight into his head, you know." Emily whispered, her eyes locking onto me with a grin as she pulled a perfect pint of beer in one swift hand movement.