Queenie Luna's Interlude

Queenie Luna

NOTE: Please refer to the sticky index of chapters to know where this interlude fits in the plot.

Queenie Luna, her blonde, shoulder-length hair pulled back in a practical ponytail, straddled her aging dirtbike. The rusty, grimy machine was a relic passed down from her father who died when she was young. It was the only thing she really still had of him.

The dirtbike rumbled like the belly of a hungry bear beneath her. She wore a simple white dress, its fabric patterned with wildflowers you couldn’t see unless you were close enough to stare—and you’d better not stare. She had a white hairband, too, which almost matched. The only other noteworthy attire she had on was her faded blue denim jacket, a hand-me-down from her mom, the mayor.

As she approached the general store, which was acting as the classroom today, her eyes searched the small pack of village children loitering in front of its doors. Kylie Ann, her daughter, stood out with her bright, curious eyes scanning the crowd. Her hair, a cascade of golden waves, bounced as she spotted Queenie and waved excitedly.

“Hey, Momma!” Kylie Ann's voice chirped excitedly as always. Queenie’s heart filled at the sight of her little girl.

“How was school today?” Queenie asked, her voice tinged with maternal warmth as they set off, leaving a cloud of dust behind them.

Kylie Ann bubbled over with details from her day. “Mrs. Blake’s classes are always amazing! We learned about edible plants in the valley. Mushrooms are fascinating but tricky, you know? Some look harmless but are super dangerous. Honestly, it’s kinda scary.”

Queenie listened, but she was a little distracted, her mind elsewhere. “By now you’ve probably heard about Old Joe, right?” she asked.

The little girl fell quiet.

“I know you liked him a lot. He was a good man, and his farm used to provide a lot of sustenance to our town.”

“Who’s going to take over that farm?” her child asked anxiously.

Queenie shook her head. “We reached out to someone. If he came, well—it’d be…it’d be amazing. But I don’t want to get my hopes up. Fact of the matter is our community is in trouble.”

“In what way? How?”

Queenie forced back tears as she continued on her motorcycle. Her daughter had no idea the way their village really worked. But it was time she started to learn. For now, though, she changed the subject back. “What about Tommy and Leah?” Queenie probed gently, guiding the conversation to Kylie Ann’s classmates. “How were they today?”

“They were all about berries today! But Sam...” Kylie Ann giggled, “she’s still puzzling over the math lesson from yesterday. She kept muttering about fractions under her breath the whole time while the rest of us were reviewing our foraging lessons.”

Their journey took them through the heart of Mineral Village. The village, under the enduring administration of Elizabeth Luna, who was both the mayor and Queenie’s mother, thrummed with a gentle, peaceful rhythm day to day. The streets were lined with quaint houses showing their age, their gardens blooming with flowers and herbs. The villagers, contributing members of this tight-knit community, waved as they passed by, their faces familiar and friendly.

“Mom, where are we going?” Kylie Ann’s question pulled Queenie back from her observations.

“We’re visiting a special place today,” Queenie replied, her voice taking on a hushed tone. “The shrine. I need to check something after last week’s storm.”

Kylie Ann’s grip tightened in anticipation, her curiosity piqued. They rode in silence, each lost in their thoughts, the steady buzz of the dirtbike a comforting background sound, even if it drowned out the preferable sounds of nature as they entered the valley.

As they turned off the main road, the terrain grew wilder, even untamed. Queenie navigated the black dirtbike with practiced ease, weaving through the dense thicket as her daughter clung to her for dear life. The barely visible path was strewn with rocks and roots, but there was, at least, a path. Eventually, though, they reached a point where the bike could venture no further. They parked it beside an ancient, gnarled tree.

They journeyed the rest of the way on foot, the forest enveloping them. The sounds of the village faded into sounds of nature—the rustling of leaves, the distant chirping of birds, the soft crunch of their footsteps on the earthy path. The air was cool, fragrant with the scent of pine and damp soil.

Queenie loved this atmosphere. She wouldn’t trade it for the world. If Mineral Village did die out one day, she would find some way to take her daughter and move into a farm house of their own. She had no idea how she’d pull that off—financially, that is. But she couldn’t bear the thought of raising her girl in the city. Then again, the idea of raising her away from the gifts of the Harvest Goddess was equally abhorrent.

After a short trek, they emerged into a sun-dappled clearing. The sight before them was breathtaking—a statue of a woman, her features exuding a sense of ethereal beauty. She stood tall, her robes flowing around her in stone, giving her a sense of movement and grace.

“Who is that, Mom?” Kylie Ann whispered, her voice laced with awe. It was the first time her mother had taken her here.

“That’s the Harvest Goddess,” Queenie replied, her voice soft and filled with reverence. “This is one of many statues of her hidden in the valley. The only one most people know about is atop Harvest Hill. I guess you don’t recognize her because every statue is a bit different.”

“You never talk with me about her,” Kylie Ann whispered. “The other kids mention her sometimes.”

That surprised Queenie. “I don’t imagine they know all that much.”

The little girl shook her head. “They say she’s real. A real goddess.”

“You know our valley is special, honey,” Queenie said. “That magical backpack of yours, your grandma’s tools, Old Joe’s seeds—just the way our town clings to life when it should be long dead, really. It’s her who keeps us going.”

Kylie Ann gazed up at the statue, her imagination ignited. “Will I ever meet her, Mom?”

Queenie’s heart warmed at her daughter’s innocence and hope. “I believe you will, Kylie Ann. One day, when the time is right. That’s why I brought you here. It’s time for you to enter this hidden world.”

They moved closer to the statue, where Queenie noticed the remnants of her previous visit—a bouquet of wildflowers, now scattered and wilted. She popped open the seat and reached into the compartment on her dirtbike to retrieve a fresh bouquet. With Kylie Ann by her side, they approached the altar at the base of the statue.

Queenie arranged the flowers with care, their colors vibrant against the stone. They burned the old flowers in a small pile, lighting them up with matches. Kylie Ann mostly watched, her eyes wide with a mix of curiosity and reverence. “Will our village be alright?”

The question wounded Queenie. She wanted to say yes, but even the kids could feel the vultures circling. Some of the town’s residents were planning to move out now that Old Joe was gone. Where would their food come from? They’d have to import from out of the village, which meant the influence of the outside world would creep in and slowly corrupt this holy place.

“I think there’s a chance that things will be okay. If no one moves into that farm, then maybe some of us villagers will work together.”

“Even if someone does move in, maybe we should help them?” Kylie Ann asked.

Queenie felt a tear in her eyes as she knelt in front of the statue. “Yeah. Maybe we should.”

As Queenie whispered a quiet conversation to the goddess, her thoughts wandered to the significance of the shrine. It was a symbol of their community's faith and hope, a faith and hope that had sustained them through hardships and joys alike. The Harvest Goddess, though a figure of mystery to many, embodied the spirit of their village—resilient, nurturing, and deeply connected to the land.

The tranquility of the moment was abruptly broken by the shrill ring of Queenie’s phone, vibrating in her purse. She fished it out and held it in front of her, her expression turning to one of slight unease. “It's Grandma,” she murmured to Kylie Ann, answering the call. “Be quiet. I don’t need her to know you’re here.”

Kylie Ann nodded, but there was no use, anyway.

Elizabeth Luna's voice was unmistakable, deeper than Queenie’s, more authoritative and powerful. "Queenie, I know what you’re doing. Bringing Kylie Ann to a hidden shrine is unwise. She's too young to be involved in this."

Queenie felt some anxiety, but stood her ground. "Mom, if we’re going to survive what’s coming, she’ll need to know. Things are going to change either way."

Elizabeth’s reply was firm. "Nothing is changing."

Queenie knew her mother was usually right, even all-knowing, so if she had reason to hope, then Queenie did too. Still…with the passing of Old Joe, a vital link in their self-sustenance chain, the village faced unprecedented challenges. People very well might go hungry or be forced to leave.

"I understand, Mom," Queenie conceded, deciding not to say anything else.

The call ended abruptly, leaving Queenie in a contemplative silence. Kylie Ann looked up at her, sensing the weight of the conversation, but not understanding it. Queenie crouched down, her eyes meeting her daughter's.

"Kylie Ann, some things about our village are very special, and it's important we keep them just between us," she said gently, her hand brushing Kylie Ann's hair. “I don’t know how your grandma always knows the things she knows, but she wants you to be separate from this world. I disagree. Still—around her, maybe play dumb a bit, alright?”

Kylie Ann nodded, a serious expression on her young face. "I understand, Momma."

The ride back home was quiet. Even the rumbling engine of Queenie’s dirtbike seemed muted somehow. As they neared their house, Queenie couldn’t escape the feeling that maybe her mother was right. Maybe nothing would change, and that they would find some way to keep the farm alive after all.

She just needed to have some faith.