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Green-Eyed Monster	By : HalcyonEve Category: +G through L > Harvest Moon Views: 1605 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Harvest Moon: A New Beginning, and the locations and characters in this story belong to Natsume Inc. and MarvelousAQL Inc. The plot is my own. I do not profit from this work.

Chapter List
- 1-Green
- 2-Eyed
- 3-Monster
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- 3
Eyed
Afterwards, Allen wondered how she managed to slip under everyone’s radar for so long. Even he hadn’t noticed, until one day he realized that she hadn’t been in his shop for at least half a year. Maybe even closer to a year—he couldn’t say for sure without checking his records. So when he saw them passing by one day while he was taking a stroll by the river, he’d commented on it.
“Hey, Rio, you haven’t been to my shop for ages,” he’d called out as he approached them. “You should come in, let me fix you up. Your hair could use some attention. And you should consider trying a new color—you’ve been looking really pale lately. Just stop by and let me work my magic on you!” he’d added with a wink in his usual flirtatious manner.
What had surprised him was the way she seemed to shrink into herself. “Oh! Umm, no thanks, Allen. I-I’m fine.” Then she’d glanced at Rod, as if seeking his approval, and he was even more surprised by what he saw in his friend’s eyes. Jealousy, though that was nothing new, but also something darker. A sort of superiority? Possessiveness? No, not quite either of those. He looked at Rio the way Allen imagined a baron from the Dark Ages might have eyed a pretty serving wench. The way someone in a position of power might lord it over someone completely subservient to him.
And that was all wrong, he thought as he watched them walk on up the mountain path.

Though he found the animal dealer’s company not at all to his taste, he nevertheless sought him out that evening. Neil opened the door, his guitar in one hand and a cigarette in the other, looking bleary-eyed with exhaustion—and perhaps more, Allen thought, spotting an open bottle of tequila on the table, next to a shot glass, a salt shaker, and a plate of lime wedges.
“Whaddya want?” Neil asked, taking a long pull on his cigarette and blowing the smoke out of the corner of his mouth.
“I need to talk to you,” Allen said, stepping past him into his house. “Something doesn’t seem right to me, and I want to know if you’ve noticed anything, too.”
With a grunt, Neil closed the door and walked back to the table. “Drink?” he asked, taking a last drag on his cigarette before smashing it into the ashtray.
Allen shrugged. “Sure. Why not?”
Neil grunted again, but grabbed a second shot glass from the cupboard. He filled both glasses, then passed one to Allen before taking his seat. He licked and salted his hand, grabbed his glass and a lime wedge, licked off the salt and tossed his drink back, sucking on the lime wedge as soon as he swallowed the liquor. He then refilled his glass before looking at his unexpected guest. “Well? What’s up?”
Allen mimicked his host’s actions, wincing at the burning sensation and the acidic bite of the lime juice. He’d never had tequila shots before—cognac was more to his taste. Ignoring Neil’s leer of amusement and declining a refill, he said, “I want to know, what do you think of Rio?”
Neil had picked up the salt shaker in preparation for his next shot, but he set it down again and looked at Allen in surprise. “Rio? I dunno. I guess… well, she’s a hard worker. And she’s good with animals,” he said, gruffly, then picked up the salt again and finished his shot.
That might not sound like much, but even Allen knew that, with Neil, that was high praise—perhaps the highest—to say she was ‘good with animals.’
“Has she seemed any… different to you lately?” Allen asked, watching his host carefully.
Neil shrugged. “I hadn’t really, but I guess now you mention it, she doesn’t come by as often. Oh, yeah, I do remember one thing. I’d stopped by one evening to let her know that a calf she was interested in would be up for sale the next week. She and Rod were goin’ at it like rabbits. It was a hot summer night, and her windows were wide open. Man, she makes a lot of noise.” He shook his head ruefully.
“Anyway, I just left a note in her mailbox and left. The next day she came over to my shop to talk to me about the calf, and I remember being surprised, because she was wearing those heavy overalls of hers and a long-sleeved shirt. She even had a bandana tied around her neck, and work gloves on her hands. It was, like, a million degrees! She had to have been dying of the heat. Actually, I can’t remember the last time she wore shorts or a short sleeved shirt. Dunno what’s up with that. She never used to be so shy. Her first summer here, I caught her working in her fields one day wearing only her bikini—said she was too hot to wear clothes. But she didn’t seem at all embarrassed, either.” He chuckled a little at the memory.
Allen scowled and reached for the tequila, tossing back another shot as Neil grinned at him. “And Rod. What do you think of him?”
Neil frowned. “Don’t like him.” He stood and went to a cupboard, pulled out a new pack of cigarettes, and sat back down. He opened the package and offered one to Allen, who declined, before pulling one out himself. He lit it and took a long drag, closing his eyes and leaning back before exhaling the smoke towards the light that hung over the table.
“Really?” Allen asked, surprised. “I thought he was your friend. Doesn’t he come over here a lot? And he loves animals, too.”
Neil sat back up, grinding the end of his cigarette into the thick ashes in his tray before pouring another shot of tequila. This time Allen accepted his offer. He scowled at the salt on his hand, then took his shot, slamming his glass down on the table when he was done.
“No,” he said, glowering. “He’s not my friend. He used to come around, trying to make all nice-nice with me. He finally quit after he started hanging out with Rio. As for animals… if that’s love, it’s a pretty strange love.”
Allen stared at him in surprise, then took his shot. The burn wasn’t so bad now, and he found himself almost relishing the salty-citrus flavors. Plus he felt the beginnings of what might turn out to be a pretty decent buzz. “How do you mean?” he asked.
Neil paused, reaching for his pack of cigarettes and tapping them against the palm of his hand a few times as he thought. Then he abruptly stood and went into the kitchen. He grabbed a bag of spicy tortilla chips and opened it, pulling out a handful before dropping it on the table between them. He crunched the chips as he thought.
Brushing the powder from his fingers onto his pants legs, he said, “Okay, you know how his animals are all so goddessdam well trained and all, right? Perfectly obedient, do whatever you tell them to, blah blah blah.” Allen nodded—Rod’s herd dogs were famous in the area, and he’d even managed to train herd cats, of all things.
“Well, I’ve seen them—obviously, since his friggin’ shop is right next to mine, and he follows me back and forth between here and Zephyr Town. He even boards his animals at the same place as me. Anyway, his animals are really obedient, sure, but… you should see how they act around him. Kind of scared-like. Cowed.” He took another shot, passing the bottle to Allen after pouring his own, then he lit another cigarette.
Cowed, Allen thought as he poured another drink. Yes, that was it—that described her exactly. He shook his head, then drank another two shots in rapid succession. Definitely starting to feel the buzz now, he thought, and he took a few chips out of the bag.
“When was the last time Rio entered a competition—any competition?” Allen asked as he crunched a chip.
Neil pulled at his cigarette as he thought. When he was finished with his smoke, he smashed the butt into the ashes and looked at Allen, frowning. “I’m not sure. I remember being surprised that she wasn’t at the yak festival last spring, because she’d been talking so excitedly about entering it. But she never showed up. I don’t really pay attention to the other festivals, who’s there and who isn’t. I just notice who enters the animal festivals. But yeah, now that you mention it, the llama festival in early spring is the last one I can definitely remember.”
“I can’t remember her being at any competitive festivals this year at all, except the llama festival, as you said.” He brushed the scarlet dust from his fingers and leaned back in his chair. “I think something’s wrong. Maybe very wrong. Tell me, when you, ahh, overheard them—did she sound like she was… well, hurting? In pain?”
Neil grinned broadly. “Naw, man. If that was pain I was hearing, we’d all be masochists.”
Allen snorted. “Well, I still think something’s wrong. Do me a favor, will you? Keep your eyes open. The fall crop festival’s in just a couple days. Let’s see if she’s there. And if she isn’t… let’s go check out her farm and make sure she’s okay.”
"Sure, if it'll help you sleep at night," Neil said, shrugging. "I'll help. I like Rio, and if she is in trouble…."
“Thanks,” Allen said, pouring himself another shot.
The next morning, Allen woke up shortly before noon, groaning in agony at the filtered sunlight streaming through his curtains. Rolling over onto his stomach and pulling the blankets over his head, he thanked his lucky stars that it was Saturday, while cursing the leaf of the agave heartily.
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Green-Eyed Monster