Colette stared at the wreckage before her, trying not to let her dismay show and not entirely succeeding.

Taro saw it in her eyes, of course, and panicked just a little at the thought of maybe losing their newest resident before she'd even settled in. "I'm so sorry, my dear. I know it's quite a sight. But you know, the previous owner passed away several years ago, and he had been sickly and weak for quite some time before that. It was in bad shape when you bought it at auction, when was it? Four years ago? Five? And no one has come out to inspect it or make any repairs on it since. If we'd known you were coming, we would have tidied it up a bit for you."

She shook her head. "No, it's my own fault. I have to admit... I really only bought it on little more than a whim, then all but forgot about it until just a few weeks ago. So I've no one to blame but myself. But it's okay, really. I'm not afraid of hard work."

Taro laughed, relieved by the determination in her voice. "Well, that's certainly a good thing!"

And indeed it was, she thought as she surveyed her new home. Acre upon acre of fields covered with storm-tossed debris and thick with weeds, outbuildings that appeared to be just one storm away from collapse, a rickety old windmill that Taro said supplied both power and fresh water to her farm, at least in theory. And then there was the house.

She used the term loosely, of course. Shack might better describe it, or shanty, or even hovel. It had probably been a decent-ish rustic cabin, once upon a time, but not anymore. She was almost afraid to step inside, but taking a deep breath, she stepped up onto the porch, ignoring the way the whole structure shuddered and creaked, and opened the door.

It hadn't been locked. Odd, she had thought at first, but once she stepped in, she could see why no one bothered. There wasn't anything worth taking, and no one in their right mind would want to stay here as it was, anyway. It was dark inside, the windows still boarded up. The only light was the spring sunlight that peeked in through the doorway with as much hesitation as she herself felt. Oh, and over there was a patch of sunlight that shone through a hole in the roof. That'd need to be fixed, and soon, she sighed to herself.

Debris and broken glass covered the floor of the single room. Decrepit furnishings sagged, the fabric rotting and moldy. Damn it, not even a bathroom, she noted with dismay. There was a rusting cookstove at one end of the shack, one of the doors falling off its hinges, and an assortment of cupboards and shelves on the walls. The whole place positively reeked, too, like....

"Oh my goddess, is that a dead seagull?" she yelped, backing out the door quickly.

Taro peered in past her. "Why, so it is! You'll want to get that out of there quick. Phew, kinda ripe, isn't it?"

Gagging, she clamped her hand over her mouth and nose as she nodded a vigorous agreement.

As they stepped back out into the sunshine, she exhaled deeply. "Well," she said in her brightest voice, "I seem to have my work cut out for me! I, uh, think maybe I'll stay in the hotel, until...."

"Until the stench clears?" Taro said, his eyes crinkling with suppressed laughter.

"Exactly. And until I can get it repaired to a livable state. Is there anyone...?"

"Gannon," Taro interrupted, nodding sagely.

"Gannon?"

"Gannon Fitzgerald. He's a carpenter here, kind of a general handyman when it comes to repairs and construction, really. Strong as an ox and none too bright, to be honest. But he's very skilled, really a master of his trade. Anything you want built or repaired, he's your man. Come on, my dear, follow me. I'll show you around. Let's start with the hotel, so you can get yourself a room, then we'll go see Gannon about your house. After that, I'll introduce you to the others."

She followed him back across the suspension bridge to the larger of the two main islands, Verdure Island he'd called it. They stopped at his office to pick up her luggage, then they turned and crossed another bridge to Sprout Island, the smaller of the main islands.

On the main road just past the bridge was an old-fashioned white-washed inn. A sign above the door read "The Little Sprout Inn" above an image of a stylized sun, and below that, "A Sunny Welcome Awaits You!".

Stepping through the door, she and Taro were indeed given a sunny welcome by the cheerful brunette behind the counter. "Why hello, there Taro! What brings you here? Oh, I see! Welcome, stranger! I'm Carol. Welcome to the Sunshine Archipelago and to The Little Sprout Inn!"

"Thanks," Colette replied as she looked around the lobby. The floors were tiled, large windows lined both exterior walls, and large, healthy tropical plants made the good-sized room appear even airier. "I'd like a room, please," she added as she walked up to the counter.

"Certainly! For how many nights?" Carol asked, pushing the registration form toward her.

"I... I'm not really sure," she said, glancing over at Taro, who just shrugged helplessly. Turning back to Carol, she explained. "You see, I'm moving onto the farm on Ranch Island, and I need someplace to stay until the house is... well, habitable. But I'm not sure how long that will take."

"Ahh, well, that's fine. Just try to give me a little notice when you're ready to leave, please, so I can prepare your statement for you. I'll need a credit card and your identification, too, Miss..."

"Just call me Colette, please," she murmured, finishing the form and handing it back, along with her credit card and license.

The room Carol assigned her was a little on the small side, but pleasant. It was decorated in shades of cream and light brown and honey-colored oak, and she imagined that when the late afternoon sun slanted through the west-facing windows, it would be bathed in a beautiful, golden glow. It was simply furnished with a large bed covered in a cream and tan double wedding ring quilt, a small bedside table, a comfy chair in a pretty honey-colored print, and a chest of drawers. A blue and amber Oriental rug covered the oak floor, and a huge maidenhair fern hung near the chair in the corner between the western and southern windows.

She nodded approval as she placed her suitcases next to the bed. "This will be just fine," she said with a smile. Carol beamed and bustled back to her post in the lobby, Colette and Taro following more slowly behind.

They next visited Gannon, who was a balding, burly man with stubble that looked like it could scratch diamonds. "Can I help yer?" he growled, looking up from the ledger spread out on his counter.

"Gannon, this is Colette," Taro said, stepping up. "She's going to be moving into the old ranch."

"Yer mean Dexter's ol' place? Why d'yer wanna live in a shit'ole like that?"

Lifting her chin ever so slightly, Colette replied, "I don't. That's why I'm here. I would like to hire you to repair that old house so that it's livable."

"Yeah? Wallll..." he scratched his chin as he thought, and it sounded like someone scrubbing a heavily rusted iron pot with steel wool. "I reckon I could do some repairs. Whatcher got in mind, lady?"

"Please, call me Colette," she said. "At a minimum, I would like you to repair the roof and the porch, reinforce the foundation as needed, replace the broken windows, and add a storage closet and a bathroom. I'll also want you to put in plumbing, electricity, heat, and if you can, to replace or repair that old cookstove. I'll want more done later, but that should be a good start."

"Cripes, lady, yer don' want much, do yer?" he grumbled. He tapped his pencil on the counter a few times as he scowled in concentration. Finally, he said "Awright. I can do all that for yer. But it's gonna cost yer, I hope yer knows. Less'n you have yer own materials?"

Colette shook her head. "No, I've only just arrived. What is your estimate for the work and materials?"

"Hrmmm...." He scribbled some figures down on a sheet of paper, crossed it out and rewrote it, started to slide it across to her, then snatched it back, scribbled it all out again and wrote in a third figure. He tapped the pencil a few times, considering, then nodded and slid it across to her.

Her eyes opened wide. "This much? Are you serious?" she exclaimed.

"Materials ain't cheap out her on dese islands, lady. Sposin' yer gonna find that out soon 'nuff, though. Ever'thing costs more. Has to be brought in by boat, see? Dat's why we's all try to make do with what we can make or grow or find as much as we can."

"I... I see. Oh, very well. I'll pay your price. But I expect you to do good work. You come highly recommended, after all."

"Yah, wall... I allus do my best, lady. I'll be there first thing inna mornin' to get a start. Check in later in the day, yer can see for yerself how good I work."

She wrote out a check for a deposit on the work, which he looked over with great suspicion, even going so far as to sniff it before dropping it into his cashbox. Then they went on their way.

Taro showed her all around the two main islands, where she met nearly all the residents and learned what stores there were, who ran them, and when they were open. When they came full circle to his house and office next to the bridge to her ranch, he led her back behind his home to the bluff that overlooked the sea. He pointed off to the west, and she squinted into the sunset for a few minutes before she was able to make out the rounded shape of a small island. "That's where we hold all our festivals. There's a small shrine there, too. We're not quite sure who it's meant to honor, or who put it there, or when. It's very, very old—that's all I know."

Turning back to the dirt road, Taro passed a large, battered old bin, similar to one near her house. Tapping it with his walking stick, he mentioned that she could put anything she wanted to sell in the bins—not just crops. They were refrigerated, in order to preserve freshness. He collected the goods near the end of the day to ship back to the mainland on the night ferry. "If nothing else," he mused, "there's always fishing. Good way to earn some cash, or put food on the table. Gannon makes poles in his spare time, so you can get one from him if you like. If you need help, Denny's the one to teach you. He knows everything there is to know about fishing! You remember where to find him?"

"He was fishing near that old shack by the dock, right? Really tan with curly brown hair?"

"Yep, that's him. Now unless you have any questions for me...?" After a moment's thought, she shook her head, and he held out his hand to her. "Then if you'll excuse me, I'll bid you farewell for now. My daughter's probably got dinner just about ready, and my old bones are achin' something fierce. Gonna rain soon, I believe. Good night, Colette. And again, welcome to our islands." They shook hands, then he went on into the little house, leaving her alone on the road.

She decided that first and foremost, she had to get rid of that... that disgusting thing stinking up her house. Then she'd leave the doors open to air it out. She headed over to the farm, opened the door, found some old rags on the floor, and used them to pick up the remains. Holding her breath, she ran as fast as she could toward the shore, then flung it as hard as she could out into the water. Gasping and gagging at the lingering stench, she threw the rags back into the hut and ran the whole way back to the inn, where she took the longest, hottest shower she'd taken... well, if not ever, at least for quite some time.