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Farmer Cal. The grandson of Caldwell Banks, the previous owner of Bankside farm, who died when the boy was sixteen. The funeral was hard. One of the hardest things Cal had ever been through. It was just him, his parents, Lewis, Marnie, and the Mullners; Granny Evelyn, Grandpa George, and his best friend, Alex. Cal doesn’t remember much from the funeral, except sitting there sobbing afterwards in Granny Evelyn’s arms, his parents at the burial without him.
After his death, Cal stopped speaking nearly as much. “Selective mutism” as his psychologist had described to his mother. He went through the rest of high school, all through his stupid marketing degree at that daft university in Zuzu city, and throughout his mind-numbing office job at Joja.
Six years is how long it took for Cal to open the letter sitting in his desk drawer, a couple of cobwebs attached to it. When he finally did, he jumped at the chance to put in his resignation letter and move to Pelican Town. Sure, he hadn’t been back in years, but it couldn’t be that bad.
And he was right, it wasn’t too bad at all. Sure, his grandpa’s old farmhouse needed a good cleaning, but that was expected since it’d been sitting there, just the necessities left in the house. Robin was even kind enough to buy him a new mattress before he arrived.
The first couple of days went alright, Cal set up a small farm area for his crops, and Marnie came by, a small puppy in tow. The little one couldn’t have been more than 6 months, her ears flopping happily along as she walked with Marnie up to the farmer.
“Cal, it’s so nice to see you again after all this time!” She mused softly, “I hope you’ve been well, I came by to ask if you’d like to take care of this dear pup, she's very sweet and I think she’d make great company.” Marnie finished, smiling like she always had, the care in her eyes obvious.
Cal nodded back, giving her a soft, slightly awkward smile. “Yeah, sure.” He thought it would be quite nice to have something to come back to at the end of a long day in the mines or out shopping or something.
“Still a man of few words I see” Marnie pointed out, no trace of negativity in her voice. “I’m sure she’d appreciate a proper name, especially since I've just been calling her pup” She chuckled, light and airy like her laugh had always been, and rested her hands on her hips. They quickly exchanged the pup, Cal having picked her up, wanting her to get used to him. “I best be going now, I’ve got more than a couple of things left to do on my farm before tomorrow.” Marnie hummed, “Have fun with her, Cal, and we’ll chat soon, alright?”
Cal hummed, “Absolutely, Thanks a bunch” he spoke with a small nod, before shifting the pup in his arms so he could wave goodbye, before sitting down, legs hanging off the porch, the pup still in his arms.
“What do I call you?” He asked the pup softly, her tail wagging in return. It made Cal giggle, and he gently petted her head. “I think I’ll call you Patch, how'd ja like that?” Patch seemed to smile, opening her mouth as her tail continued to wag. “Patch it is then, my silly girl,” Cal mused quietly, a smile creeping up the corners of his mouth.
The weeks that followed were delightful. Patch loved being outside with Cal, and he loved it too. When Cal spent dinner with the Mullners, his childhood best friend Alex, and his grandparents, who’d always let him have “special permissions” to call them Granny and Grandpa because he and Alex had grown up so close. He'd always come home tired, his stomach full, and would curl up with Patch on his bed, and they would fall asleep together, puppy and her papa.
As the months wore on of Cal living there, he started taking a real liking to Harvey. There was just one problem, he made him so much more nervous than anyone else in Pelican town had. Sure, the butterflies in his stomach didn’t help, but Cal could barely manage a short sentence without stumbling over a couple of his words. Cal knew the feeling; he’d caught feelings a couple of times for boys he knew back in high school when he was still figuring out his sexuality. He was still definitely gay, that’s for sure.
One night, Cal ended up worse than he’d expected from a night in the mines, the night ending early due to the gash in his stomach from that god damned skeleton’s bone he had missed while he was trying to find the way down to the next floor. Needless to say, he took the elevator up and staggered to Harvey’s, really hoping he wasn’t losing too much blood.
Harvey Baxter was a high schooler in Central Zuzu city when Cal’s grandpa passed, only moving to Pelican town after his great aunt, Liza Peterson, who also happened to be the town’s doctor, passed a few years prior, replacing her position. He majored in biology when he got his doctorate, and minored in veterinary technology, especially since he’s always had a soft spot for animals.
When a loud knocking came from the office’s front door at around 10 pm that night, Harvey immediately worried. Who had gotten hurt this late at night? There was only one possible option: Cal. “Well, shit.” He mumbled to himself, scrambling downstairs, worried, not caring that his hair was disheveled, and his glasses were pushed onto the top of his head.
As Harvey opened the door, he managed to push his glasses down and look presentable enough, looking out at Cal, who had a giant gash on his side.
“Hi” Cal mumbled sheepishly, and Harvey immediately and carefully ushered him inside one of the patient rooms.
“How’d you manage that one, Cal?” Harvey asked, flitting around the room for supplies to clean the thankfully not-too-deep wound.
“Skeleton in um, in the mines” Cal mumbled back looking down as he tried and failed not to trip over his words as he pressed a warm cloth to the wound.
Harvey nodded, setting a couple of items down on the counter next to where the farmer sat. “I see, let's get you cleaned up, yeah?” he asked, not expecting a response back as he began working to clean up the cut, carefully pouring hydrogen peroxide over a cloth.
Cal was quiet as Harvey worked, not used to their sheer proximity, and slightly flustered. Harvey worked, beginning to wrap the bandage around the farmer’s torso, his hands snaking over the farmer’s bare stomach, making the farmer gulp back a shaky breath.
Eventually, Harvey finished cleaning and dressing the wound and spoke up. “You’re not allowed in the mines for the next few days, okay? You need that gash to heal first or it’ll reopen, and that won’t be fun for either of us.” He stated calmly, “Go home and get some rest, Cal, and don’t hesitate to call if you need anything at all. Harvey gave the farmer a small smile, stepping back to allow the farmer to stand.
Cal made his way back home and made sure to water his crops quickly before he walked inside the house. “Patch? I’m home!” he called out, but there was no puppy that came running to greet him. That was not normal. Patch always came when she was called. Something was definitely wrong.