Lily of the Valley - Stardew Valley - Sebastian

Chapter 9

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A few days later I got a letter in the mail. My first post for the house was from some old fisherman who had signed the letter with his name, Willy. As short and to the point it was, it read.

"Hello there. Just got back from a fishing trip. You should come down to the beach sometime. I've got something for ya."

I had heard someone once say that the town indeed had a beach somewhere. It was actually located much closer than I had expected, and I wondered how I hadn't noticed it before.

Down to the south the wind grew sharper. Even the seagulls seemed to dislike it, screaming insults at each other like it was some competition. Even the sand grew cold between my feet.

A bit further down the line there was a pair of wooden docks with a small shed attached to them. I carefully waddled through the wet sand and let the salty wind detangle my hair. Somewhere I heard Koda's joyful splashing as he played in the water.

By moving to this town, the dog had acquired a lot more living space to roam and frolic around. I had to wonder if the city life would ever be enough for him after all this.

My thoughts were cut off once I reached the end of the piers. Right by the shed, there sat an old, bearded man with a fishing rod in his hand. I quietly watched him fish in the faded light that beamed from a small lantern standing on the dock.

He had a small wooden pipe that he blew every once in a while. It created small but rather pretty melodies even with its not too pleasing sound. You'd have thought the noise would have scared all the fish away, but the man didn't seem to care.

It wasn't until a large colorful bird fluttered and sat down next to him that I realized the pipe wasn't just an instrument. The bird hopped around, mimicking the pipe's sound with ease.

I checked that Koda was still safely splashing around about a paw deep in the shore. He had found out how to blow bubbles through his nose and tried to eagerly eat them. I turned back and stepped closer to the man.

"You've got a really pretty bird, there." I said.

"Oi!" I had accidentally startled the man. He nearly jumped when he saw me, and the music was cut short. Once he calmed down, he took the bird to his lap and motioned for me to look at it closer. "It's a parrot, miss. And a terrific one at that."

I sat down, my legs crossed and watched the bird move its head from side to side. The old man grinned from under his thick beard and began to once again play for the bird.

I had seen him before, I was sure. There was something familiar about his posture. Between one of his songs the fishing line grew short and tight. The old man pulled and pulled the line, but the thing didn't seem to want to be caught.

During all this struggle he managed to glance at me with surprising curiosity in his eyes. He wondered; "Hm. You think you'd make a decent fisher?"

"A fisher?"

"I sell what I catch like me ol' paps used to." He explained. The rod struggled and bent under the force. "I have no kids but could share the art o' fishing to keep it alive."

The fish finally surrendered, and he enthusiastically pulled the thing up. With the hook still in its mouth it struggled mad, but it was all in vain. The old man, who I supposed was actually the Willy from the letters, removed the hook and dropped the fish into a dirty bucket.

He then got up and swiftly disappeared into the shed. The parrot flocked onto a lonely pier and sung a broken melody it partially could remember. I dropped my legs over the pier's edge and let them hang free over the small waves.