Marie enjoys her solitude, but she greets me when I stop by. Marshall’s packed up the truck to go off to another work site, so it’s just her and the house and the dock. “Hanging in?” she asks me that day. “Yeah,” I reply. We chitchat, then I trudge back up the mountain to the farm. Time slips away from me. I crawl into bed.
Good Worker
When I wake up the next morning, the cabbage stalks are drier than they should be. Shit. I forgot to water them now that the rainy season is over. I go through my daily tasks, delivering harvested crops to the bin to be processed and sent up with the next moon lift. Moon Company tallies my account at the end of each day, helpfully setting aside a portion of the proceeds for my future ticket. I grab the next batch of moonrice seeds they send down. Go through the steps: get out my equipment, till the earth, plant the seed, water it if the rain can’t. It seems basic, but the methodical work takes a lot out of me. Only six seeds total, but I feel bone tired.
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I walk across town in the afternoon. Elvis grins as I enter the mess hall. We’ve been seeing each other more often, and I feel the slow bloom between us. The first day in town he refused my money, but said fresh ingredients are at a premium. I bring him apples, cabbage stalks, the occasional mushroom. In turn, Elvis makes a fine meal… and a pretty sight himself with the green pompadour and that soft smile. Maybe I should stop by that evening and help clean up.
Idle Talk
Next I visit Carol, the older clerk who helped me settle in. He’s taking a call when I enter the admin building, gently reminding me that there’s some preemptive forms to fill out. Carol’s on hold with the moon colony. A former resident’s paperwork is out of date, and they’re usually pretty good about keeping up. I give Carol some space. He seems more shaken than ever.
As the sun begins to set, I walk back down to the lake. Marie’s sitting in her usual spot under the awning. “Don’t go into those big pipes,” she says, the first hint of a warning. I pause. I didn’t know there were big pipes you could roam into. That’s how information travels in town, a slow drip of trust and chatter alike.
The next morning, Carol lingers by the shipping bin, nursing a bit of a hangover. He says the air out here clears his head. I swallow my guilt for not checking in last night, but I know what I should do. I tend to the crops, do my rounds, then march up to a Moon Company kiosk, manually setting the auto withdrawal amount to zero.
The moon doesn’t need me. But Carol and Marie might. And hopefully Elvis, if my hunch is correct. I was brought on as a temporary farmer, but what if I could be more? I think back to how I could almost hear a friend’s voice as I entered town, dreaming of the green moon at the top of the elevator. That idea of purpose, of adventure, clashes with what I now know. Even moon colonies need ground crops. Even the green moon lets people slip through the cracks. Instead, I choose to let one season flow into the next.
Before the Green Moon is available now on Steam and itch.io.
