Take the Plunge and Start Anew - Stardew Valley (Dulcie!OC/??)
Summary: Dulcie is a burned-out college student. On her way back to her apartment, she sees as advertisement about the Stardew Valley fall festival. She thinks maybe taking a gap year will gain back her motivation before graduate school. And that maybe, just maybe, it’s time for a change in pace and scenery.
Prologue
The manuscript on my desk was bombarded with red ink and canary yellow sticky notes.
This was the fifth revision by another professor in the English department. My honors college director said this paper had the potential to be published in an academic journal, so I worked tirelessly with promises of contributing to my niche field. Hours passed and my eyes strained from intense focus. Fingers clacked away at the keyboard, but I knew my progress was meager. Even so, publishing this paper would solidify my applications for grad school.
If not, then what have I been toiling away for, for these past two years?
My eyes wandered to the digital numbers of my clock. It read 1:24 a.m. Exhaustion overwhelmed me, but I tackled another revision. When my concentration dissolved, I closed my silver laptop before flopping onto the mattress behind my desk.
I closed my eyes and tried to empty my mind. Time’s ticking. You need to fill out the manuscript form for that journal. Not to mention, double check the deadline for that competition and—
That failed.
I thought about the two years of researching, writing, and editing I did. I busied myself with a full coursework and barely had a social life. Juggling on top of my part-time tutoring job, I felt dread stroking between my ribs. Two years in and I wondered if I would be happy teaching as a professor. If I wasn’t cut out for academia, then I wouldn’t be here writing and researching like I am. But I didn’t want to drown in stress and succumb under the pressure of the “publish or perish” mentality.
I let out a frustrated sigh and ran a hand through my light, ashy blonde hair. If I had time, I would’ve booked an appointment with a hairdresser. My dark roots were visible again.
After obtaining my bachelors, I could take a gap year before applying to grad school. Figure out other options while planning my future. Gain some experience. Get a new job. An internship. Maybe skip town and go on a road trip to do some soul searching like in the movies.
I rubbed my tired eyes. Oh Yoba, I wish I had money for a road trip. Maybe I needed a change in scenery, a change of pace. I didn’t want to keep slogging through life with this attitude.
Or maybe it was the fried rice takeout that made me entertain these thoughts. Whichever it was, I forced myself up and completed my nighttime routine before curling back into bed.
The next morning, I woke up and stuffed whatever papers I needed inside my dusty blue canvas bag. I jotted down some notes and while I was physically in class, I was mentally far away. When British Literature was over, I absentmindedly shuffled to my next class.
Hour after hour, everything blurred together like a haze. Soon, I packed my belongings into my bag and took off in the direction of the tutoring center. It was time for my part time job. As I counted down the minutes before my shift ended, I realized maybe it wasn’t the late-night fried rice ghost possessing my thoughts from yesterday.
I wanted to take a gap year. I was completely, and honestly miserable.
I want to leave this town. Maybe head to Zuzu City?
I don’t know, but I longed to be anywhere but here.
Maybe it was an impulsive decision. Maybe it wasn’t.
But I saw a flyer advertising a fall festival in Stardew Valley on my way back to my apartment. It sounded like a whimsical, rural place that I couldn’t help but be mesmerized by it.
For the next few days, the town lingered in my mind as I attended class and worked. I heard from my friends and colleagues that the valley had a rustic charm to it, coupled with a tight-knit community.
When I entered my apartment, I took off my shoes and shrugged off my backpack. I threw away the plastic takeout boxes into the trash, cleared some space on the table, and produced some paper and a pen. With my heart beating fast, I called the number on the poster and heard the dial.
To my surprise, I was greeted by an older sounding gentleman. He introduced himself as the town mayor, Lewis. He was delighted by my genuine interest in Pelican Town.
“It’s not every day someone calls about our community! As you know, Pelican Town is insulated from the rest of the world but that doesn’t stop it from being a tourist destination. That said, we hold many festivals throughout the seasons, and we’re also located a few hours from Zuzu City and…”
From there, we kept in contact as I inquired more about the valley, and the possibility of moving there.
Fast forward one year—plus one English degree—I held fast onto a plane and bus ticket.
I was beyond terrified but enthusiastic all the same. I already notified my landlord about moving out, sold my bulky furniture, and sent ahead the items I needed to Lewis.
I wiped my hands on my well-worn floral dress. I was at the airport terminal having my passport checked and my carry-on luggage searched. No one would see me off, but I was glad. I didn’t want to cry in front of others. It would make it difficult to leave. Even so, I couldn’t help but blink back the wetness in my eyes. This was it.
I was going to leave for a year.
With my canvas backpack and suitcase at my side, I boarded the plane. The trip turned into an exhaustive blur like my college days, and my thoughts were my only companion. I stared outside the small window and felt fortunate I had a side seat. As the airplane rolled off the runway, I recalled the various phone calls I had with the mayor.
I remembered how Lewis gave the OK and said there was an abandoned farmhouse I could stay at. It was doubtful that the owner of the farmhouse would return, and he told me I could lodge there for a year. Multiple calls and some paperwork later, we discussed rent since the mayor took care of electricity, water, and installed appliances for the farmhouse.
I was immensely grateful that he was preparing my stay at the farmhouse. Lewis’ kindness made me feel more at ease, since most landlords would have left me to fend for myself. It was truly kind of him, I thought. Before that phone call ended, he bade me a safe trip for the next day and hung up.
The air in the valley was cool at night, a reprieve from the stuffy bus I rode in. Lewis instructed me to follow the signs pointing to the farmhouse. He apologized in advance that he would wait for me at my home to finish setting up everything.
Thankfully, the path that led to the farmhouse was cleaned up and paved. I breathed in deeply and wheeled my suitcase across the paved ground. Every now and then, some loose rocks kicked up and the wheels of my suitcase swiveled. Ten minutes later, I was an expert at maneuvering around rocks and holes.
Up ahead, I saw Lewis waving to me.
“Over here! Sorry about making you walk the last leg of your journey. I wanted to make sure everything was properly running before you arrived.” He apologized again for the lack of hospitality, but I didn’t mind. I grew tired of a sedentary life.
While he spoke about the weather and wildlife of the valley, I tipped my head back and drank in the sight of the diamond sky. Inside the inky darkness encased stars as bright as Tiffany diamonds. Where I lived the light pollution rendered the stars like specks of dust. But here? In the valley the stars winked with a brilliance I never knew was possible.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” he said and chuckled. “The valley is known for its natural beauty.”
“Yeah,” I said in awe. “It’s like I’m gazing at an ocean full of stars. While shipwrecked, I’ll never lose sight because of the north star.”
“A poet like Elliot, eh?”
“Who?”
Lewis chuckled and he offered to take my suitcase to the farmhouse.
I expected a dilapidated home, but to my surprise, the farmhouse was restored.
The light wood walls shone with a shiny polish. The dark wood roof looked sturdy, free from holes and cracks. From the windows, cornflower blue curtains peeked out and beckoned us to enter. Even a small section of the front yard was cleared of weeds and rocks. Beyond that, however, was an untamed field of grass that stretched far into the night.
As I listened more closely, I heard running water. The land must be separated by small connecting rivers, I thought. This was refreshing. The land felt unrestrained and wild. Most of all, it felt free. Nature ran its course teeming with life and abandon.
“I cleaned parts of the farmhouse to make it look presentable. But the rest is up to you, OK? A riverland farm might take some work but it’s doable. Who knows, maybe the owner will return and hire you to keep it running.”
Another laugh escaped the mayor’s lip, and I couldn’t help but smile in return.
“Thank you,” I said. “Your expectations of me are too high. And honestly? This exceeded my expectations so I’m grateful, Mr. Lewis.”
“Of course. Now go rest up. You should think about how to introduce yourself tomorrow to everyone. I know you wanted to start over, so here’s your chance. But remember, first impressions are important so there are no do overs.”
I nodded my head at his advice. I glanced back at the farmhouse and then back to him.
“I think I’ll go by…” I paused for a moment. This was it. My new life. My new identity for the year. “I’ll go by Dulcie. My name is Dulcie.”
Dulcie did not resemble my name in the least, but I enjoyed the idea of starting anew. I’m living in a town where nobody knew me or my history. Now was my opportunity. Plus, I liked the ring to it. Dulcie. It rolled off my tongue easily. It sounded sugar sweet. Pleasant.
A new me.
Lewis’ expression turned thoughtful, and he extended his hand.
I shook it.
“Welcome to Pelican Town, Dulcie. We warmly welcome you to the valley.”
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