Something about this one particular job posting stands out to me. Most of these postings here are incredibly boilerplate, standard phrasings, at best a reference to an e-mail address or website for contact information. Farmers here have been making job postings for a long time, and they have become very efficient at it. And then there's this one that stands out—hand-written, on a piece of paper that looks like it's been laying on a desk under sunlight for a while. There's no phone number, no e-mail or anything like that. It doesn't even use standard terms and job descriptions, instead simply asking for "someone to help out", referring to a field number and ending with "just show up, we'll figure something out". Most folks looking for work here would write this off as unprofessional, they like the consistency of the boring postings. But something about it has me curious, and so, I'm on the way there.
Walking along the paths on the outskirts of the town is always a strange experience. You'd think you get used to just seeing wheat for miles, but no, you don't—at least I haven't gotten used to it so far. Just miles upon miles of yellow—even when it isn't actually miles, it certainly feels like it. The occasional heavy machinery driving around does little to liven up the monotony as well. But then, as I approach the field I was told to look for, there is in fact something different. There, on one small patch of land, stands a modestly sized house with a decent backyard, and it has me thinking about how much things have changed. Farmhouses used to be a real thing, something that you would see all the time, but now, we just have patches of land parceled out for fields and everybody lives further away. In a way, it looks like a total anachronism. And out on the porch sits a young man with long hair. Is that who I'm supposed to talk to?
When I get closer, he gets up off the bench and waves in my direction. "Howdy there, friend! Ya here fer the job?" he asks, a smile on his face.
"Yeah, I am. What's it all about?" I ask in return. Only upon getting all the way to the stairs up the porch do I notice his pointy ears. Wait, this guy is an elf? I guess it's not completely out of the realm of the possible for an elf to get into agriculture, but it is weird for sure.
In lieu of explaining, he walks up to me and holds out his hand for a shake, which I accept. "Name's Carris. Pleased as punch ta meet ya," he says, and it's only now that I really process his deep drawl. That's not a local accent at all, but then again, he's an elf, who knows where he's from.
"I'm Clark. Nice to meet you too," I reply, and after we shake hands, an awkward silence follows until I eventually break it again. "So, um, the job?"
There's a visible sign of surprise in his expression. "Oh, right! Pardon me fer spacin' out, ah ain't got this whole thing figured out yet. Ah'm lookin' fer a partner ta jus' help out 'round the place, y'know? Lil' bit a' everythin': sowin', reapin', shoppin'... whatever needs doin' 'round here. Ah'll let ya stay here, feed ya, 'n' pay ya part a' the crop profits. We'll figure it out," Carris explains.
Such a lackadaisical attitude towards hiring someone, which I suppose fits with the posting. And sure, this sounds like a stupid idea, but at the same time... maybe this will be a welcome new experience? "Alright, I'm in. You got yourself a farmhand, sir," I reply, and he waves me off.
"Ain't no partner a' mine gonna call me 'sir'. Ah got a name, ain't ah? That'll do jus' fine. Now c'mon, ah got a field that needs sowin'," he tells me, motioning for me to follow him as he grabs two sacks of what I can only presume to be seeds, handing me one and leading me to a small, empty field. "Ah'll start with this here, ya jus' follow mah lead," he explains, then begins to sow the seeds by hand. Honestly, I don't think I've sown in this way in a long time, but the field isn't too large, so this shouldn't take too long. But as he throws out the seeds and I reach into my sack, I'm surprised to find some sort of powder in there. Still, I can follow orders, so I spread around this powder where he throws the seeds, and before long, we've covered the whole field and are on the way back to the farmhouse.
The questions in my mind are plenty, and I can't help but ask some of them. "So, uh, aren't we going to water the crops? And what was that powder?"
With a chuckle, Carris looks back at me, smiling. "Powder's a lil' somethin' from back home. Gives the wheat a kick, makes 'er grow real nice. As fer rain... lemme just say ah got it on good authority we ain't gonna be hurtin' fer rain tonight," he tells me, giving me a knowing wink. "A lotta them there other farmers got that machinery to help 'em out, but ol' Carris still got a couple tricks up his sleeve, ya know?"
Already, I can tell this isn't going to be a normal job in the slightest, and after we return to the farmhouse, taking a seat on the bench and watching gray clouds beginning to form, there is another thing I just have to know. "Er, if you don't mind me asking... how does an elf end up a farmer? It doesn't seem like the usual career path, you know..." I ask, quite curious.
"'Course ah don't mind none. Ya jus' ask whatever ya wanna know. As fer how ah got here... it's kinda simple. Lotta elf folks either don't do no nature no more or are still sittin' in the forest, huggin' them there trees. Far's ah'm concerned, farmin's the way ta go fer an elf. Lookin' over yer fields, seein' the fruits a' yer labor, that's Mother Nature smilin' down on ya. Ain't fer everybody, mind. Gawds, the fightin' ah had with Elenere... well, ain't no need fer me ta share mah sob stories. Ah'm happy doin' this, 'n' so's she bein' one a' them fancy city slickers, 'n' that's all that matters," he explains, a sort of wistful look on his face. There's clearly a lot of history here, but at the same time, it seems like the kind of history I shouldn't be prying in.
But then, there's just one more thing really nagging me. "So, um, if you've only got a few fields, you've got perfect rain prediction for watering, you got magic powder that makes stuff grow real good... why do you need help, really? You've been doing this for a while, clearly," I ask, and I mean it. It seems like he's got everything under control, and I don't know what I'm truly adding to the workflow here.
Again, he laughs softly. "Guess yer mostly a purdy face fer company. Now c'mon, it's gonna be rainin' real good soon and we gotta get some veggies from the lil' patch backyard fer dinner. Unless ya wanna get wet," he tells me before getting up and walking off, leaving me a bit stunned as I follow.