Chapter 18: Understanding This New Life (Part 3)

The next morning dawned clear and bright, but Pete felt a heaviness lingering in his chest. He had barely scratched the surface of Mineral Town's mysteries, and his own identity here felt like a puzzle missing half its pieces. Determined to keep learning, Pete decided to take another walk through town. Maybe today he'd find more answers—or at least fewer questions.

As he strolled down the familiar dirt path leading from the farm, something caught his eye: Popuri, sitting on the steps of her house at the chicken ranch. She wasn't her usual vibrant self, full of energy and quick wit. Instead, she was plucking the petals off a moondrop flower, one by one, her pink hair catching the sunlight like a halo. The sight stopped Pete in his tracks. For all her fire, he had seen, she now looked so subdued, so small.

He hesitated. Popuri wasn't exactly thrilled with him yesterday, and he wasn't sure she'd want his company now. But something about her quiet sadness tugged at him, and before he could second-guess himself, he walked up to her.

"Hey," Pete said softly, his voice almost breaking the stillness. "Mind if I sit with you?"

Popuri glanced up at him for a moment, her eyes wary but lacking the spark Pete saw yesterday. Then she looked away, tossing the flower aside as if it had offended her. "Sure, I guess," she said, her tone more resigned than welcoming.

Pete took a seat next to her on the wooden steps, leaving a careful bit of space between them. For a while, neither of them spoke. The clucks of the chickens in the coop nearby filled the silence, along with the occasional rustle of leaves in the wind. Pete glanced at Popuri out of the corner of his eye. She was staring at the ground, her hands folded tightly in her lap, her shoulders slightly hunched.

"You okay?" he finally asked. It was a simple question, but it seemed to carry weight in the quiet morning air.

Popuri sighed, her lips pressing into a thin line. "I don't know," she admitted, her voice softer than he expected. "It's just… some days, it feels like everything's too much, you know? Like I'm stuck in one place while everything else moves around me."

Pete blinked, surprised by her honesty. He hadn't expected her to open up, but her words resonated deeply. Maybe more than she realized. "Stuck how?" Pete pressed gently, his voice soft but probing.

Popuri shrugged, her gaze still fixed on the ground. "I don't know…" she said, her tone hesitant, as though she were unsure whether she could trust him with her feelings. After a moment, she took a deep breath and continued, "I mean, I kinda want more out of life. See the world, go to the city. Just… anything else other than taking care of Mom every day." Her hands fidgeted in her lap, twisting together nervously. "Don't get me wrong, I love Mom. I'd be devastated if something happened to her. But what about me?" Her voice cracked slightly, and she shook her head, almost as if chastising herself for speaking the words aloud.

Pete remained silent, giving her the space to keep going.

"I can't even help Rick with the ranch," she added bitterly, her voice rising with frustration. "I just keep making mistakes and causing more problems than anything. Sometimes I think they'd all be better off without me hanging around, messing everything up."

Pete frowned, his heart heavy as he listened. He may not know this Popuri very long, but he had seen her as confident, sassy, even fiery—someone who never seemed weighed down by the world. Hearing her talk like this was almost jarring, and yet, it made her feel more real, more human.

Popuri suddenly turned to him, her pink hair shifting with the motion. Her eyes were wide, curious, and maybe a little desperate. "You were born in the city, right? What's it like?"

Pete blinked at her sudden question, caught off guard by the intensity of her gaze. He took a moment to think before answering, choosing his words carefully. "The city?" he echoed, leaning back slightly as he recalled the bustling streets and towering buildings. "It's… busy. Loud. People everywhere, all the time. It's exciting, I guess, but it's not as perfect as it sounds."

Popuri tilted her head, her expression softening with intrigue. "What do you mean?"

Pete gave her a small smile, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "It's easy to get lost there. Not just physically, but… you know, in other ways. Everyone's chasing something—jobs, money, dreams—and sometimes it feels like nobody really sees you. Like you're just another face in the crowd."

Popuri's brow furrowed, her fingers still fidgeting as she processed his words. "But at least you have a choice there, don't you? You can go wherever you want, do whatever you want. Here…" She gestured vaguely to the town around them. "It's like everything's already decided for me. Like no matter what I want, I'll always just be the girl who takes care of Mom and messes up the ranch."

Her words hung in the air between them, heavy with longing and frustration. Pete glanced at her, seeing a flicker of something familiar in her eyes—an echo of his own feelings, his own struggles. For the first time since he'd arrived in this strange new version of Mineral Town, he felt a connection.

"You know," he said softly, "sometimes the city isn't all it's cracked up to be. But… I get it. Wanting more, I mean. Wanting to find something that's just yours."

Popuri looked at him, her expression unreadable for a moment. Then, slowly, she nodded. "Yeah," she said quietly. "Exactly."

Popuri tilted her head back, her gaze fixed on the late spring sky. The faint hum of cicadas and the gentle rustling of leaves filled the silence. Taking a deep breath, she asked softly, "Do you think I should go to the city?"

"Absolutely!" Pete replied without hesitation.

Popuri's head snapped toward him, her eyes wide with surprise. "Really?"

"Of course," Pete said, meeting her gaze earnestly. "Everyone has a right to happiness. If going to the city is what you want, if it's what would make you happy, then you should go for it."

For a moment, Popuri just stared at him, as though trying to determine if he was serious. Then, to Pete's surprise, she let out a soft chuckle. "Oh wow, you're the first person to ever say that!"

"Really?" Pete asked, raising an eyebrow.

She nodded, her expression shifting between amusement and something bittersweet. "Yeah. Most people would say, 'Don't go! Think about your mother.' They'd guilt-trip me into staying, like they always do." Her voice carried a mix of sarcasm and resignation. After a pause, she added, "Not that I'm serious about leaving. I couldn't. Who else would take care of Mom? And who else would annoy my older brother?"

Pete smiled faintly, sensing the affection in her tone despite her words. But before he could respond, Popuri's gaze dropped to the ground, her playful demeanor giving way to something heavier. "Actually," she said quietly, "it's not just that. I just… miss my dad."

Pete's smile faded, his heart sinking a little at the shift in her voice.

"He's been gone for such a long time," Popuri continued, her fingers absently plucking at the hem of her dress. "I know he's supposed to be out there looking for a cure for Mom, but… sometimes I wonder if he's really doing that, or if he's just messing around out there. We get letters from him every now and then, but it's not enough. I don't even remember the last time I saw his face."

She paused, her voice trembling slightly as she added, "I just want us to be a family again. Like it was before he left. I want to see him, hear his voice, even if it's just for a little while."

The vulnerability in her words hit Pete like a weight, and he found himself at a loss for what to say. He wanted to offer comfort, but what could he say to someone who had been carrying this longing for years?

"You must really miss him," Pete said finally, his voice low.

Popuri nodded, a wistful smile tugging at her lips. "Yeah," she whispered. "I do."

Pete watched her in silence, his heart heavy as her gaze drifted into the distance, lost in her thoughts. She looked so small, so vulnerable in that moment, like someone who had carried the weight of longing for far too long. In his original life, things had been different. Popuri had been happy, surrounded by the warmth of Basil and Lillia—a family full of love and laughter. A family he had shattered when he was just a ten-year-old boy, powerless to save the one person who meant the world to him.

The memory burned in his mind, the pain as fresh as the day it had happened. If he had the chance to go back, to rewrite even a sliver of time for her, he would do whatever it took to keep Rod from leaving. He would find a way to give her the family she deserved, one where her father's absence wasn't a constant ache in her heart. But that was a dream, nothing more. He didn't have the answers. He didn't know how to fix what had been broken—not in Flowerbud Village, not here in Mineral Town.

Only Rick had known the way forward back then. The Rick of Flowerbud Village, the inventor who accidentally allowed him to save the girl he grew up with. But Rick was gone now, just like everyone else from Pete's old life. They had been replaced by this new set of people, with their own lives, their own histories, and their own heartbreaks. They didn't know the real him. They didn't know the choices he'd made, the failures he'd endured, or the guilt that haunted him. They only know the other Pete, who is gone now.

He clenched his fists, forcing himself to stay present as he looked at Popuri. This Popuri wasn't the same girl he'd known, but her pain felt real—raw and familiar. She wasn't asking him to fix anything, but in that moment, Pete wished he could.

"You're a good person," Pete said softly, his voice steady but kind. "Sticking around for your family, holding on to hope… Not everyone can do that."

Popuri's cheeks flushed faintly, caught off guard by his sincerity. She toyed with the hem of her skirt, a nervous gesture that betrayed her emotions. "I don't know about that," she murmured. "Sometimes I feel like I'm just being selfish, wishing for something more while Mom and Rick work so hard."

Pete shook his head firmly, his gaze steady as he replied, "You're not selfish. You're human. It's okay to feel frustrated, to want more for yourself. It doesn't mean you love your family any less."

For a moment, neither of them spoke. They sat in quiet companionship, the weight of their burdens lightened by the understanding between them. The late afternoon sun cast a golden glow over the ranch, its warmth settling over them like a comforting embrace.

Popuri was the first to break the silence. She stood, brushing off her skirt and sending a few stray petals fluttering to the ground. "Thanks for listening, Pete," she said, a small, genuine smile curving her lips. "Maybe I was wrong about you. Turns out, you're not as bad as I originally thought."

Pete chuckled, leaning back on his hands. "Coming from you, that has to be high praise."

Popuri smirked, tossing him a playful look. "Don't let it go to your head. But… maybe we could talk again sometime. Turns out, when you're not hiding on your farm, you're easy to talk to."

Pete nodded, his smile softening. "Anytime. You know where to find me."

As Popuri disappeared into the house, Pete remained seated, staring thoughtfully at the flower she had discarded earlier. A strange mix of emotions stirred within him—gratitude, melancholy, hope. For the first time since he'd arrived in this unfamiliar timeline, he felt like he was beginning to understand the people of Mineral Town.

Maybe, as Pastor Carter had said, he did have a purpose here after all.