Pollination ♜ Sam × Sage
TIMING: Days before the Town Hall Meeting LOCATION: Namas-Tea Happy Farm, Outskirts PARTIES: @samjacksonwc & @loverleaf SUMMARY: Sam checks out the Namas-Tea Happy Farm in the Outskirts for any labor irregularities. Sage welcomes her new victim, er, friend! CONTENT: Drug tw, Drug use tw, just two weirdos hanging out
Of course Sage was worried, and of course she told the rest of the farm that she was not. Telling them otherwise would have been more problematic than helpful. Fortunately for Sage, she was very skilled in making people feel calm, better even, without lying outright. Words were her favorite weapon, and she knew how to wield them properly, masterfully. In the end, even without saying that she was not worried about a government man coming to the farm to check them out, an obvious lie, she still managed to convey to the farmers that everything was all right. She would handle it all. What could go wrong?
He went up the main drive until he reached the main gates. They were open, and as she told them to, the farmers happily bid him kind greetings, a nice and cozy welcome. She could’ve just left them closed, so the snoopy man would have to squeeze between the bars to get in. As he eyed the magnolia bushes lining the path, Sage watched him make his way to and inside the main house from the safety and comfort of her window. “He’s here,” she announced to no one but herself as she closed her curtains, took a hold of herself for a moment or two, before making her own way to greet him.
“Namasté, Sam Jackson!” Sage joined her palms together and bowed her head as she welcomed him to her abode, to their farm, smiling with warmth and giddy excitement, even though she was feeling more stressed and concerned within. “How was your travel? I hope all right?”
Finding the time to check on the strangely named Namas-Tea Happy Farm, a name that made his assistant Yoo-ara chuckle, was a little bit hard, considering the past few weeks have been a mess for the town and the Tourism Board. But the youngest member of the Board, Sam, would not be denied. He had made a promise to check on the place for any irregularities in terms of labor, which wasn’t even his jurisdiction, and he vowed to keep that promise to the laborers of the farm, none of which he had ever met before and would meet until today, when he finally made his visit. Ah, the things we do to procrastinate.
“Uhh, namasté, miss Sage, wasn’t it?” Her name was very peculiar to Sam, though he couldn’t judge. After all, he shared his name with a Hollywood actor, which often confused and then made people laugh when they finally got to the bottom of all that confusion. Sam didn’t look anything like his actor counterpart. He wasn’t as dignified or as threatening or as stoic. Sam was just Sam, and it often left new acquaintances disappointed when they realized he wasn’t the man with the snakes on the plane. “My travel was all right. Will you be giving me a tour around your farm?”
Sam took a good look around her place, though he tried to be insistent on being frank and to the point. He was here to do some checking, after all, and this was definitely not a friendly visit. For the most part. She does look…very friendly. Easy, Sam. Don’t be so pathetic.
“Yes,” Sage beamed. “It’s Sage Magnolia. That’s my name.” Despite the many, many criticisms of her chosen name over the years, she was mightily proud of it. It combined two of the many, many things that she loved: sage, with its stress-relieving properties, and magnolias, the very same flowers that grew in her hair. Strangely, as the years went by, people have stopped asking her as much about the magnolias in her hair, easily accepting the non-explanation of how they looked good in her hair as accessories. “I will, though would you like some tea first? Maybe those pastries we’ve discussed online?”
Sage found no difficulty in sensing that Sam was smitten by her look. Whether there was anything deeper than surface attraction, she didn’t really care. All she cared about was that he took to her quite well, which meant she could use his own emotions to her advantage. Just like old times. How many others have fallen to her charm, her beauty? She hasn’t even kept count. Outside of her more active contingencies, her social skills proved pivotal in keeping the farm afloat. This visit would be no different. Sage would win Sam over and he’d stop being a threat to her and the farmers. “Shall we?”
“Well, I am feeling a bit peckish,” Sam beamed, following her lead to wherever the tea and pastries were. Most people in town were just as friendly, offering him some food whenever he visited, though those people knew who he was and what he did for the town. The others who didn’t weren’t as friendly but those who really knew him, how he never fails to try and mask the dangers of the town as nothing more than rumors or even lies, were the least friendliest of them all. Probably for good reason. “What kind of tea are we talking about? And pastries? Like cookies?”
Sam did not hesitate to take his seat when he finally received his tea and pastries. He wasn’t that hungry but he would never say no to free food, especially not when it’s from a pretty lady. “So, like, have you always been here? I mean, as the farm owner or something? I don’t think I’ve seen a lot of you in town.” And he would remember. With her pretty face, Sam would’ve been head over heels for her. And most likely get summarily rejected. That’s just how things were. It is what it is. Hopefully, this one’s different.
“Oh, goodie!” Sage made tiny claps when he agreed to have some tea and pastries first. She was also delighted that he didn’t make a big deal about her name. Usually, people made a big deal about her name. Now it was her turn to make a big deal about someone else’s name, his name. She asked a question while leading him into her tearoom. “So your name is really Sam Jackson? Like the movie star?” She was even more excited when he inquired about her tea and pastries. “Well, what’s your poison, mister? We have assam, darjeeling, and noon chai! As for the pastries, have you ever had vada pav?”
The assortment of offerings were already actually waiting for them in her tearoom, prepared in advance after he shared his intention of visiting her at the farm online. It didn’t really take much time or effort to make the pastries and the teas, the ingredients readily available on the farm. For herself, Sage took a cup of noon chai before pointing out the signs on two separate plates of the vada pav pastries: one normal and the other with a special ingredient. “I guess so. I do travel a lot, outside of town and the country, so maybe we’ve just had conflicting schedules until now.”
“Huh, maybe,” Sam shrugged as he opened his mouth and started to usher inside a piece of pastry. He stopped when he failed to pronounce vada pav in his head. “Vada what? It’s, uhm, nothing weird, right? Just healthy baked bread? Noon chai sounds good, too, but no poison.” He chuckled out loud at his terrible pun and watched as the tea was poured in his glass almost immediately. He drank his tea first and waited for her response before stuffing his face with the baked goods. Just in case. “Yeah, like the movie star, but I’m more handsome, right?”
Once they were done with the pleasantries, Sam immediately switched to work mode. He looked around the place, admiring the view, before throwing pointed questions at the otherwise attractive farm owner. “So, like, is this a family farm? Your parents left this to you? You look too young to start something like this on your own. Or maybe your boyfriend owned this place before he left it with you after the break-up?” That last bit was obviously a reach, a terrible attempt to check whether she was single or not. Hey, if it works, it works. If not, then it’s back to business.
“Of course, you are, Sam Jackson of White Crest,” Sage giggled to indulge the man’s ego, hoping that the act would skew his loyalties toward her. Didn’t he come to root out any irregularities in the farm’s inner workings? She’s suffered her fair share of his kind, though they never failed to amuse her. This one was more of the same, confident of his power, or at least what he believed was power. “Nothing weird, of course. Just deep-fried potato dumplings in between bread buns. You like buns, don’t you? Most men do.”
“You could say that,” Sage kept the man company as he began his work, interrogating her with all the questions he could come up with. Again, this wasn’t her first rodeo. She knew the loopholes, the routine, though her memory has suffered over the decades. She could only hope she wouldn’t slip up this time around. It wouldn’t be good for the farm and most especially the farmers. “I started this farm with a couple of friends, but they’re gone now. No boyfriend at the moment. Unless you’re thinking of applying, handsome Sam Jackson?”
“Wait, Jackson…” And then Sage remembered someone else who had that last name, someone who was neither a friend nor an enemy, oftentimes a thorn on her side and fewer a boon. She squinted at him, noticed the similarities in their facial structure, and heaved a deep sigh as she contemplated their association. “I know of someone who had the same last name… How many Jacksons are there in town? You would know, wouldn’t you?”
Sam nodded at every graceful word that slipped out of Sage’s beautiful mouth, as if he was a moth and she was the fiery death of him. It was a trance that he was no stranger to, having been in numerous ones throughout his stay here in White Crest. When she mentioned the word ‘buns’, however, Sam unintentionally snickered like a grade school boy. He wasn’t thinking about fluffy pastry, especially not in the presence of Sage, though it was probably her intention. Be that as it may, Sam was unaware of any subtle implications. He was just being a grade school boy. As per usual. “Yes, I love buns.”
“Oh,” Sam did find himself blushing red when Sage explicitly dangled her carrot juice in front of his thirsty, thirsty donkey brain. He even gulped, realizing his throat just went dry, and went for a quick sip of tea to wet his whistle. Literally. “I mean, if you’re accepting applications, why not?” He shot her a playful smirk, though hers was much better and less nervous. His eyes started wandering around places it should not, though he caught himself and feigned a cough to hide his mistake. “Can’t say that I do, but I’m sure I’m the only important Jackson in town.”
It may have sounded like an idiotic boast or an arrogant ignorance, but Sam did consider himself the only important Jackson in town, mostly because he was the only Jackson in town he knew of, especially the only Jackson in town that worked for the town that he knew of. Sam’s focus was on tourists these days, lacking as they may be, so he was a little out of touch with the quieter denizens of the town. He barely even remembered those he had bumped into a few months ago. He did remember the “hotties,” though, so there was that. “What about you? Any family in town?”
Sage simply giggled at Sam’s declaration of love for buns. They both knew what he was referring to, and it wasn’t the pastry. Looking him over, Sage considered his application very acceptable. The man was handsome and charming but he also seemed…innocent, to use a less offensive word. He was the perfect boyfriend, which in Sage’s mind was no more than someone who could please her in more ways than one. A living, breathing toy. We all know the one.
Sage, however, became more interested in his assertion of being the only important Jackson in town. Crossing her legs, real slow to draw his attention to the act, she leaned back on her side, an arm draped over the head of her couch. Her smile remained ever enticing. “Are you now? How important?” She wondered if he was some sort of fairy king or ancient vampire. If he was a hunter leader, though, that may be a problem. “The farmers are my only family in town.”
“Very important,” Sam played up his ego some more, stroking it in his head. Sage’s very seductive handling of his pride, masterful even, didn’t help him make sense of what she was doing. To Sam, she was a lovely woman who was very interested in him and the importance he had within the two, failing to recognize that he was being played by someone who just wanted him to give them the best result for them and the farm. Sam would be a terrible auditor. Fortunately for him, he was a Tourism Board member. “I’m the youngest member of the town’s tourism board!”
Sam actually took pride in that fact. Well, most of the time. Well, a part of him does. Sam hated all the politicking that he had to wade through to get to the position, and he hated more that he had to do it every second of the day now, and all for what? To spite his dead father? To outplay him, so to speak? To outdo a dead man? These days, however, it was harder to make sense of what he took pride in anymore. He did enjoy his job, though he would never admit it to himself when alone.
“Oh,” Sam grinned again, also from ear to ear, as he made himself comfortable in his seat. “Well, maybe I can be part of that family someday.” He literally winked twice as he made the confusing statement. In his head, it was a pretty smooth pickup line. He failed to realize, however, that being part of a family doesn’t just mean husband and wife. Most of the time, the first thought was brother and sister. Or brother and brother, sister and sister. Maybe even parent and child. So many other things before husband and wife. Sam was not good with flirting.
“Tourism…board?” At first, Sage was a little confused. She had expected him to say something else, something more interesting, maybe even more intimidating, but he did seem like he took great pride in it. He could have been the king of the faes, which meant he would be very interesting and might even be quite useful to her and the farm. An ancient vampire might make him troublesome, but there was nothing more exciting than a dangerous fling. The hunter leader would have been the worst result. Or that was what she thought before he revealed what he truly thought the meaning of the word ‘important’ was.
And then Sage’s eyes lit up. Tourism board? That meant he had some semblance of power over the town’s tourist attractions, right? Maybe even have influential connections that could be directed toward her farm? Their produce? If she was very lucky, he could even become the mouthpiece she needed to truly establish her agenda: No to war, yes to peace! Surely, tourists would love vegetarian food and being told to stop being violent. “Tourism board! Of course! Well, aren’t you real important.”
That bit about the family thing was real awkward, though. Even Sage couldn’t deny that. She gave him an uncomfortable chuckle, as if still trying to make it seem that his pick-up line was acceptable, even though anyone with half a brain would be quick to realize it had failed, missed its mark. Maybe, she thought, Sam was one of those people who got off on those scenarios with their family. She almost shuddered at the thought, so she tried to change the topic. “Let’s talk about your family, if it’s all right? Are they still in town?”
“I am, aren’t I?” Sam fumbled for something interesting to say but only managed to repeat rhetorically the same thought that’s been discussed by the pair for minutes now. It was like he couldn’t find something else to move on to, something more interesting than his job description. Maybe there was just nothing else interesting about him. Nothing that he believed to be or would interest someone more interesting like Sage. “My family? Well, yes and no. They’re not exactly still in town. But they are.”
It was hard to describe his current situation. Technically, all his relatives were buried in town, so that means they’re still in town, right? One of them, his least favorite one, was even haunting him. But they’re also dead and no longer interacting with the rest of the town, except for his least favorite one, so doesn’t that also mean they’re technically no longer in town? Sam confused himself to no end by focusing on the wrong things. As per usual. So he just decided to come clean to Sage, “None of them are alive, but they’re in town.” Smooth.
“Anyway,” Sam tried to move the conversation elsewhere after that long, awkward pause. “Should we do the tour now? I’d love to see the rest of the farm.”
Sam’s explanation confused Sage for a bit. She had no idea what anything Schrodinger was, and should she be given the clue of a cat, she’d most likely just nod and think to herself that whoever had been talking about Schrodinger's cat quite literally was just talking about some German guy’s cat. Fortunately for her, Sam went on and explained it much better in the end. “Ah, so they’re…part of the town itself now, no longer just members of it before…” She tried her hand at the explanation herself but felt very uncomfortable talking about someone else’s dead, especially someone else she had just met and was now in a trance over her. Man is something.
“Oh, but of course,” Sage quickly rose from her seat after cleaning the crumbs of pastries from her dainty little hands and off her dress, even though there weren’t any on her dress. With a smile, she gestured for him to follow her around the farm and began the tour without much delay. Of course, Sage tailored the tour to suit her own needs. Well, the farm’s needs. The farm must survive, and so, the tour must only feature the things that would secure its survivability. The good things. “The Namas-Tea Happy Farm is a very sustainable organic farm commune that allows for everyone to come in and just plant where suitable.”
Every now and then, a farmer would make an appearance and Sage would exchange smiles and pleasantries with them, as if all this wasn’t tailored perfectly to display the truth of their camaraderie. What is the greatest, truest unity if not for the defense of someone’s home, of someone’s livelihood, of someone’s life? Few would argue that it would be for peace and love but peace and love are very complicated generalizations. Sage would know. She’s lived through different versions of them. “If there’s anything else you’d like to know, feel free to ask. I’ll try my best to answer you.” And then the girly chuckle to sell the story.
To say that Sam was very impressed with the farm would be quite an understatement. He has visited something like this before, entire acres of crops and greens, within and outside the town. One of his closest friends in White Crest lived on a farm, after all. Well, they were close growing up but things change when you leave town without even saying a goodbye. That said, he did recently save her from vampires, so that should get him some points, right?
“You said you started this farm with friends, right? If you don’t mind me asking, why did they leave all this with you? I mean, if it were me and I had a hand at this today, I wouldn’t want to leave,” Sam meant that as a compliment but he didn’t really think things through. What could be a random, nonchalant statement of admiration intended for such a blissful and bountiful property could be received as a crass slight to abandonment issues. Of course, Sam had no way to know if that last part applied, but he didn’t try to be sensitive about it either. Sage was beautiful. Why would all of her friends leave her, right?
“Well,” Sage started to respond with a sing-song tune, not really sure how else to go about it. It’s a tale as old as time, a tragic tale, one that has had enough time for all involved to finally move past and let go of. Yet Sage, despite her longevity, still couldn’t, still held on to the regrets and despair of events that have long unfolded, that she could no longer change. She has tried, debatably her best, but every now and again, that same longevity only served to remind her of how tragic losing her loved ones had been. That and she still literally had a hold on the constant reminder that was the farm. “It wasn’t like they had a choice.”
“It’s sort of the same thing with your family,” Sage tried to go the more familiar route, trying to make her situation resonate with that of Sam’s, even though she wasn’t quite sure if he had suffered the same tragedies. Or if he hadn’t. “You can’t really leave a place if you die there, can’t stay in a place if you die elsewhere.” Did that make sense? Sage’s shrug made her believe it did, though a part of her was very uncertain.
“But you’re right about one thing, Mr. Jackson: It’s hard to leave something like this. Something productive. Something so loved by so many people, useful to so many people,” Sage tried to reach out to his sense of community, trying to make him sympathize with her and the farmers, especially if he found something that wouldn’t fly legally. Bureaucracy wasn’t something she was good at. She’s tried that as well but it just wasn’t for her. It’s been a pain in her butt for a long while now. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be as problematic with Sam.
“Ah,” Sam was at a loss for words. Perhaps even for the first time in his life. How was he supposed to know all her friends are dead now? That seemed very unlikely in his head, though at the same time, also pretty believable. It wasn’t like they all died at the same time. Probably over the years. Due to different reasons. Sam tried his best to rationalize Sage’s tragedy the only way he knew how, which wasn’t hard, considering he did that on a daily basis.
As a member of the Tourism Board that was trying their best to cover up all the supernatural bullshit in town, mostly because the older members were adamant in the belief that it was the only way to save the people, Sam had grown to be very well-versed in bullshitting his way through life. “That explains a lot,” he tried to flash her an understanding smile, though the awkwardness in the air rendered it somewhat uncomfortable.
Sam couldn’t agree more. The farm was fantastic. It was most definitely a breath of fresh air, though to be fair, that was mostly only because Sam spent most of his days downtown, never in the outskirts. Who knew how many more similar farms were in this part of the town? Should be him, if not the Tourism Board, but he digressed. In the grand scheme of things, the farm was something that seemed very useful to the community, and that should count for something, right? Sam believed the same. “I can see that. Seems to me like a great place in town. Your papers are in order, I assume? Because if they are, then I see no problem here. None at all.”
Sage couldn’t help but smile at Sam’s response. Her plan was working! Or at least it seemed like it. The man didn’t seem like he wanted to scrutinize anything else. Was it her charm? Or was it the familiarity of death that seemed to draw them to each other. She had lost her friends, and he had lost his family. This town was a constant reminder of their respective losses, yet they chose to stay. If that wasn’t something that bound them together, Sage wouldn’t know what else would qualify.
Despite the sad realization, however, Sage still managed to put on a cheerful aura around her. No use in sulking, she always believed. If there was an opportunity to choose the sun over the moon, then the sun was her best option. Always was. “They are. Would you like to take a look at them? They’re in my private quarters.”
Sage gestured back inside the main house, eager to lead him away from the farmers. They were good people, all of them, but they weren’t always reliable when it came to making sure bureaucrats like Sam wouldn’t find anything to zero in on, anything unnecessary, and use for their terrible agenda against people like them. Sam seemed different, but they had just met, and Sage wouldn’t risk the farm on a first impression.
“Maybe some other time,” Sam had to decline the most tempting of all offers when he received a text from Yoo-ara, reminding him of preparations for an upcoming event. He shook his head, sighing, at the most inopportune of all distractions, before turning to the lovely Sage with an apologetic smile. “I have to go and help with the town hall meeting stuff. You should drop by. Might be a whole lot of important stuff to learn.” That last part was a stab in the dark for him as well, as he was not in the loop with whatever that damned thing was about. For his part, he was just thinking of once again telling everyone there was nothing to worry about. Even if there was.
After bidding some more goodbyes, Sam headed out of her place, where Yoo-ara was waiting in her car. That was one of the good things about having your own assistant: They can drive you anywhere. Unfortunately, Yoo-ara was a terrible driver, mostly because she didn’t like paying too much attention on the road and may actually enjoy screaming at other drivers and passengers. Still, she was the only one he’s got. “I had a fun time, Sage,” Sam gave her one final nod before he got inside the car. “Maybe we can have more fun times in the future.”
