Lewis watched the farm with quiet joy—alive again, just as it had been in its prime.
Ron approached him. "Something up?"
"Yes," Lewis said, choosing his words carefully. "Abigail gave you two raffle tickets yesterday, right?"
Ron nodded.
"I've actually wanted to set up a community bulletin board for a while," Lewis explained. "Pelican Town isn't like Zuzu City; we have fewer people, so we must rely on each other. Stronger bonds mean a stronger town."
He paused. "What do you think? We could install it here, on your farm. If you ever need help from townsfolk, just post a request with me—I'll rally everyone to assist."
The farm made sense as the hub—after all, most community needs revolved around crops. Other goods could be sourced from Pierre's, Robin's, or Clint's shops.
There was another reason too: Pelican Town had a few unemployed residents—like Pam, who'd just started job hunting. With no openings elsewhere, the farm could offer them work.
"Alright," Ron agreed.
Lewis exhaled in relief. "Of course, it's not free labor. Everyone gets fair pay. And for every three completed requests, I'll give you a raffle ticket—not much, but it won't leave you shortchanged."
Once Ron confirmed, Lewis called Robin, who'd been waiting outside. Together, they built a large bulletin board right at the farm's edge.
While Robin and Lewis discussed placement, Ron returned to work with his Pokémon.
Before he'd finished watering, the board was up.
Robin eyed the empty surface, then pulled a calendar from her backpack and hung it above the board.
"Much better," she said, satisfied.
In a small town like Pelican, the calendar marked not just seasonal festivals—but every resident's birthday.
Glancing at it, she turned to Ron. "By the way—when's your birthday?"
"Hmm." Ron straightened from the strawberry rows, watering can in hand.
His real birthday was January 15—but Pelican Town had no months, only seasons.
January would be… Winter.
"Winter 15," he said.
"Ahh." Robin jotted it down. "Now everyone'll know."
Birthdays were mostly celebrated among close friends—but by Winter 15, she was sure Ron would be well-loved in town.
She smiled at the young man tending his fields, then left.
Lewis walked beside her, hands clasped behind his back.
"No more worrying he'll give up and leave, huh?" Robin said, handing a cookie to Machoke.
"Hard to say," Lewis mused. "But he's just like his grandfather… Maybe he'll build something great here too."
He still remembered the farm's former glory.
How quickly things faded—decades, and it had nearly vanished.
Sighing, he resumed his usual town patrol.
---
Meanwhile, back at the farm…
Ron glanced at the new bulletin board—then kept watering.
A bucket passed between Rattata paws, moving from one strawberry plant to the next.
This wasn't Ron's idea—he hadn't expected the tiny Rattata to help with farmwork. But their efficiency surprised him.
Soon, the entire field was watered.
Froakie hopped to the porch, sighing in relief.
With watering done, the day's farm chores were complete.
At noon, Ron sent Rattata to forage for wild edibles. He took Froakie and Combee toward Cindersap Forest.
Eating potatoes and berries wasn't sustainable. Today, he'd collect Maple Syrup, then buy bread at the saloon.
In the forest, he ran into Leah—basket in hand, searching for wild ingredients.
"Ah!" She startled, then recognized him. "Ron! You're foraging too?"
Ron shook his head and sent Combee up a Maple Tree.
"Oh—Maple Syrup?" Leah brightened. "Can I buy some from you?"
The general store didn't sell it. She could collect her own, but weather affected yield—so she usually used store-bought sugar for jam.
Maple Syrup was far superior.
"No need to buy," Ron said. "I'll share some—but can I borrow a jar?"
He'd brought bowls, but sealed jars preserved jam longer. (Though his backpack kept items fresh, open bowls weren't ideal.)
Leah rushed home and returned with two glass jars.
"These are custom-made," Ron noted, asking where to get them.
"Clint's smithy," she said. "Bring Quartz, and he'll make one for 100G labor fee."
"All thanks to his Slugma," she added proudly. "Aren't they beautiful?"
Slugma's controlled heat let it shape intricate glassware—just by showing it a reference image. Something unthinkable before.
Ron made a mental note to visit Clint. He had Quartz from the Mines—perfect timing.
As they collected syrup, sweet fragrance filled the air.
"If you want," Leah offered, "you can make jam at my place. Your farm doesn't have a kitchen yet, right?"
(She'd heard that from the ever-chatty Clint at the saloon.)
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