Robin sat on an old leather seat near the back of the trolley, as his whole body shook with the old car as it went over its uneven tracks. Robin tried to distract himself from the dizzying journey by attempting to peer out of the dusty window next to him.

Through the aged window pane, the small town of Adel slipped into a vast horizon of rolling farm hills, filled with either corn or dotted with dairy cows. The afternoon sun seemed to be blinking behind puffy white clouds at the world below, casting the earth in either shadow or bright light. There were seldom any trees, only large pastures that expanded as far as Robin could see. Robin watched as the tram passed run-down farmhouses and silos, with deteriorating, rusty mailboxes waiting in front of the old gravel path running alongside the trolley tracks, the structures neglected by their previous owners for life elsewhere.

It made Robin feel strangely nostalgic for some reason.

"Where did you say you were headed again, young man?" the cheery old man operating the trolley asked him, peering back at Robin from his conductor seat at the front of the trolley car.

"I'm headed to a place called Sunshine Acres," Robin replied, talking loudly over the noise of the trolley. "I was told it was two and a half minutes from the third stop?"

"Ah, Miss Ivy's place, huh? Whatcha going there for? Does the King of Kingsbury need a new crown or something?"

The conductor let out a loud, boisterous laugh at his joke before he turned back to wink at Robin.

"Ah, no," Robin responded, deciding to go along with the joke as opposed to re-explaining the situation to this man. "Actually, I do. I am planning a coup. The first step of a successful coup is crown shopping, and, you see, my plan would be foiled if I went looking for one in Kingsbury."

Robin's sarcastic response made the old man laugh harder than Robin had expected. The man's laugh was loud and jolly, causing Robin to smile as well, proud of himself for his clever response.

"HAH! Oh boy, you're a fun one! You'll fit right in around here!" He shook his head and then turned back again with a big smile. "Don't worry, boy. I'll make a special stop for you on the road to Sunshine Acres. Just enjoy the scenery, eh?"

Robin nodded, giving the chuckling old man a polite smile as the conductor turned back around.

"Where are you from in Kingsbury, boy?" the old man asked politely to keep up the conversation.

"I'm from London," Robin said hesitantly, wanting to end the conversation already.

"Oh, London! That's great! I love London! I'm going there one of these days," the man exclaimed joyfully. "Oh! Wait! Look at this!"

The old conductor reached over to the door next to him out of Robin's view, then pulled out an old knitted winter cap, stitched in the pattern of the Kingsbury flag.

"Oh wow," Robin said, genuinely baffled. He had not expected to see anything like that here.

"Isn't it amazing?" the jolly conductor said, turning to steal a glance at Robin to see his reaction. "I knit it myself. I broke my leg once and spent all day learning how to knit, and once I got the hang of it, I made this! One day, I'm going to go to Kingsbury. I'm going to bring this hat with me when I do," he said with a proud chuckle. With one hand still on the trolley wheel, he tried to put on the hat, struggling as he did so.

"What do you think, boy? If I wear this, will I look like a local?"

Robin watched him struggle, trying to hide his amused smile.

"Oh, certainly," Robin said, pushing down the laugh in his voice. "Might I ask, would you be so kind as to knit me a Great Plains hat to help me better fit in while I'm here?"

The conductor let out a jolly laugh, his hat still halfway on his head, and turned back to look at Robin.

"Oi. You're a quick one. Keep talking like that, and you'll be a local in no time," he said, turning back around. "Won't even need... a Great Plains hat," small chuckles escaping from his round belly.

Robin imagined the old man picturing him walking around town in a hand-knitted Great Plains flag hat. The image made Robin smile, too. It was a humorous notion. He hoped that it might have helped dissuade the man from ever visiting London wearing that hideous Kingsbury hat.

A comfortable silence settled on the trolley for a minute, occasionally interrupted by the conductor's deep chuckle as if replaying their conversation in his mind.

However, shortly after the third stop, the trolley began screaming at a higher pitch, indicating that the tram was once again coming to a halt.

"Well, my boy, here's Sunshine Acres, right down that path," the conductor said, opening the doors once the trolley had jerked to a stop.

"It was good talking with ya, lad. Hope I'll get to see you again. Then I can give you your Great Plains hat," the old man said with a laugh and a wink. "Might work as a crown if you don't find anything worth your while at Miss Ivy's."

"I'm not sure that would be the best idea, but I appreciate your support in my cause," Robin said with a chuckle, nodding to the friendly conductor as he jumped down from the train car.

"Oh! And tell Miss Ivy that old man Kalavee says hi!" The jolly old man, Kalavee, called from the trolley steps to Robin, waving goodbye as the trolley door closed with a slam, leaving Robin to face his fate alone.

Robin looked at the path and the house that lay before him.

Before him sat a red wooden gate with a winding path leading to a similarly red house. A wrought iron mailbox stood weary at the gate with tulips painted on both sides. A flaking "Sunshine Acres" was written in curly lettering among the flowers.

The door to the decaying mailbox squealed on its hinges as it was blown by the wind. A large pile of mail had been aggressively crammed inside it, preventing the small metal door from closing. A pang of worry shot through Robin at the sight, wondering if "Miss Ivy" might be out of town.

The house at Sunshine Acres was an odd ashy red color, reminding him of the deep red clay soil he had seen in the southern parts of the Great Plains. The farmhouse had at least two levels, with the first level's exterior appearing to be made of logs, while the upper level's exterior consisted of shingles.

The upper and lower floors both had two large stained-glass windows each, all displaying a sizable red tulip in their center, surrounded by a simple green frame. Splitting down the center of the house was a wide, cream-stone chimney. Circling the front of the house was an off-white porch, where two intricate wrought iron chairs and a small table sat facing the path where Robin stood.

Robin slowly made his way down the trail and onto the cream-colored porch. The wooden steps greeted him by creaking underneath his weight, as if giving him one final warning before he approached the door. The large oak door had a unique decorative knocker hanging at the old door's center, the dark iron shaped like a hand holding a wreath made of holly. When Robin reached to grab the wreath, its leaves poked painfully into his hand, causing him to knock softly.

There was no response.

Robin reached to knock again when a voice rang out.

"State your business or feel my wrath!"

Suddenly, a large eye appeared in the center of the knocker's wreath, it's deep brown iris narrowed at Robin with suspicion.

Robin jumped. He had never seen magic like this, even at the wealthiest sorcerers' houses in Kingsbury. Even more surprising than the sudden appearance of a large human eye in the middle of a door knocker was that, despite the groveling tone and an unidentifiable accent, the eye's voice seemed to come from a young child.

The eye continued to peer at him cautiously, its gaze roaming over Robin and his belongings as it awaited Robin's response. 

"Oh, um. Hello, Miss Ivy. My name is Robin, and..."

"Whom are you?" the child asked, their voice filled with suspicion. "A new pear salesman? Sent from abroad to charm us into more pears? Hah! Well, enough with your tricks! We won't be taking any more pears for the foreseeable future. Thank you very much! Good day, and tally ho."

The eye shut and disappeared. Robin stood in confused silence for a moment.

A pear salesman? He had never heard of one of those.

After a moment of hesitation, Robin reached back for the knocker to knock again, feeling even more unsettled now that an eye had been watching him from it.

Robin decided instead to rap his knuckles against the door.

"Miss Ivy, I'm not here to sell any pears."

"That's what all the pear salesmen say," the eye said, once again glaring at him from the iron wreath.

"Um, what?" Robin laughed, slightly taken aback. He was sure that couldn't be true.

"Now be gone, Not-Pear-Man, before I curse you."

"No. Um, okay. Excuse me, Miss Ivy, bu—I mean..." Robin cleared his throat, letting out a slow breath to ease the irritation rising in his chest. "I am here because I was told a jewelry sorceress lived here, and I am looking for my brother."

"HAH! Your brother is a jewelry sorceress?" the child mocked.

"No, I mean..." Robin began, but quickly shook his head, waving off his explanation. He could tell he would end up talking in circles with this child. "Pardon me, Miss, but are you Miss Ivy? Is she home? I really must speak with her."

"She is at the market and should be back any moment if you really must speak with her," the child said irritably. "You may wait on the porch for her. But no funny business, Not-Pear-Man. This house is completely protected, and you will feel the wrath of a thousand crows should you try anything!!!"

The child started to make intimidating crow noises in her strange, groveling accent as the eye closed once more.

"Alright... I'll keep that in mind. Thank you, scary crow," Robin muttered in defeat, turning to sit at the small table on the porch to wait for the real Miss Ivy.

Robin pulled out his brother's letter and fiddled with its corners, feeling the occasional chill of being watched—as if the eyeball was popping in and out of the door knocker to spy on him.

Robin heaved a hearty sigh and leaned back, pleading with the large blue sky that he had finally found the right place.