Frank stepped outside onto his dusty old porch like he did every morning. As he looked around he took a deep breath and inhaled the cold morning air. Frank treasured these moments on the old porch even with its splintered floor with several planks missing. Inside his head he thought about how soon the sun would start to heat up his body and slowly spread its warmth over him. It would not be pleasant forever for when the sun reached its peak Frank knew its pleasant rays would turn into scorching heat beating down on him relentlessly.

Frank soon took to the field in his old tractor starting to plow the field. He thought to himself, as the roar of the engine and steering wheel vibrated in his hands, that unless something changed soon all of his hard work would be wasted. The land was so dry that it was not fresh dirt he toiled but it seemed as if he was breaking large pieces of brown concrete and hoped that something would grow in it.

The past few years had been rough for all of the farmers around, with the drought and all that is, that nothing had been grown worth selling in over two years. The land was not the only thing that suffered without the rain though. With no food and little money left Frank’s family was on the brink of disaster. Tim, Frank’s son, had started to look like one of the starved children from a third world country. Tim’s ribs slowly starting to poke through the skin looking like they might burst out at any moment. Franks marriage was also on the brink as well, always in an argument where the next meal was coming from.

"Listen Frank I can’t live like this anymore. Look at the ground out there, you couldn’t grow weeds out there if you tried", shouted Martha.

"Damn it Martha don’t you think I know that. What would you rather have me do? Sit at home all day hoping that something is going to come about and change everything for the better? I’m doing the only thing that I know how to do and it just isn’t good enough for you" retorted Frank.

"If you can’t provide for this family by God I will find someone that can. Look at your son! He can hardly move out of that bed to help, that’s how far this family is into the hell hole."

"I’m sorry I don’t know what else to do. Tomorrow I will plow the field then find someway to get something to plant."

"Find something to plant? I didn’t know you had become a comedian Frank. How the hell do you plan to buy seeds or anything when we have no money? Do you really think that anyone close to here really is doing any better than us? You have been out underneath that sun one too many times."

And with that Frank walked out. The conversation echoed in his head all morning so loud not even the tractor could muffle the shouts from the night before. The plowing was done and as Frank stepped off the tractor in front of the house. A small house with two bedrooms, a kitchen, and a bathroom sat before him. The outside was a simple white wash that should have been painted over again years ago. The roof had new holes that would need to be patched up someday if it ever rained again. A job that Frank thought he would be more than happy to do.

Everyone knew that in the town closest to Frank there was nothing left. It was a town that depended on the farmers for money. When the farmers ran out of money the business owner had no choice but to leave. The town had become a ghost town in under a year.

Frank walked around to the back side of the house and there sat the only thing worth any money in ten miles. It was a 1972 Ford pickup that thirty years ago was the top of the line truck. Now it was three different colors in Frank’s yard. The passenger side door was a bright red from a god knows what happened accident. The front grill had been spray painted lime green long ago by some kids when it broke down over night just outside of town. The rest of it was a grey primer from where he thought he could actually fix it up over ten years ago.

The door creaked open as Frank opened it and he plopped down on the foamy cushion that had been torn apart years ago. He gently rested his feet on the floor as he felt the rusted underbody give a little. Frank put in the key and turned it. Nothing happened.

"Son of a bitch," Frank cried.

Then it hit him like a brick in the face. Frank pushed in the clutch and after listening to the motor strain for a little bit he felt it growl and fire up. "Maybe the sun is getting to me more than I thought", Frank thought to himself.

Frank started along the old dusty road with only a vague idea of where to go. He had heard of a place in Nistavia that was rumored to have a strange kind of market around this time of year. The trip was not a pleasant one someone might have hoped for. The suspension was shot in the old truck, and every bump felt like driving through a pothole. As he drove the fields passed him by like barren deserts. At least he was not the only one having problems with the drought. It looked like it had sucked every last bit of moisture that the land had to give, and had no intentions of returning it anytime soon.

The trip was boring and Frank soon found himself with a case of tunnel vision barely even concentrating on the road. Suddenly a dog ran into the middle of the road and Frank panicked. The brakes locked up and as he swerved to miss the dog he felt the back end drift out of control. It all seemed so slow at the time but he knew he would not be able to control the massive truck any longer. The back end broke lose and entered the side of the ditch. The tires spun hopelessly hoping for the last bit of grip, but soon the truck crashed into the ditch. He felt the sudden jolt and heard the smashing of metal as the back end crumpled from a telephone pole. He sat there a minute trying to compile his thoughts to make sure what he thought had happened really did.

The door strained to open as Frank stepped out to inspect the damage. The dried grass crumpled under his feet as he approached the rear of the truck. It was smashed alright, and looked like the frame had been bent along with it. "Hopefully I can just drive it long enough to go ahead and get to the nearest mechanic," Frank thought to himself hopefully. He entered the driver seat and turned the key once more. The motor strained, but just wouldn’t turn over. He exited with the sun beating down on his body more and more every second and screamed, "What did I do to deserve this? Did I do something to piss you off God because someone would sure as hell think I did."

The near dead looking dog then poked his head down into the ditch and looked at Frank. The dog’s ribs were poking out like he had not eaten in days. His tongue hung down so far it looked like it was really losing the fight to gravity, and its coat looked rough in spots like he had been in a few scraps with the remaining animals around the area.

"So are you going to pay for this," screamed Frank, "because God himself knows I don’t have the money for this and I think I just made it pretty clear."

He noticed that he had a ragged blue collar around his neck and stepped over to inspect it. As he grabbed it he looked at the engraving and noticed the name.

"Lucky, your name is Lucky, how appropriate. Well judging by the looks of you the name doesn’t quite fit the bill."

Lucky’s only response was licking Frank’s hand and giving a whimper now and then.

Frank knew he had no choice and was going to have to walk the rest of the way to Nastavia. He knew if he came back empty handed Marla would leave him for sure. Even more he knew she would take Tim with her, and Tim was the only thing keeping him a sane man at this point. He could have cared less about his own life, but felt like a poor father making his son live the horrible life he did. All of these things he knew, but he didn’t know how he was going to manage to fix any of them.

Each step wore more and more on Frank’s feet. His farmer boots were made for working in the dirt and getting messy, not for walking miles at a time. Each step kicked up a little dust cloud that soon fell after frank had walked a few steps further. The sun was at its peak now and was beating on Frank worse than ever. The ever constant reminder of why he was a failure and the constant source of his problems. The sweat started to drip down his forehead and sting his eyes. The sweat left little outlines of the dirt it had washed away from his face, making him look like a dirty zebra. He noticed that lucky was following him, but was concentrating every last bit of energy into making one more step. He glanced up from his feet and he saw the outlines of what looked like Nastavia.

Frank stared in complete disbelief at what he saw. The market was surrounded by wonderfully bright palm trees that flowed color throughout. In the middle of the market was a lavish oasis with children swimming in the water hole. "What a great place," Frank thought to himself. He walked down the market streets taking in everything he saw. Everything imaginable was for sale, except the one thing Frank needed. He went from stall to stall, but still could not find anything to plant. He finally got the courage to ask a man where to buy something but was disappointed with the answer he received.

"Ah if I was allowed to sell seeds trust me I would fine sir, but we are at a calm now until the prince returns and instructs us what to do."

"What do you mean the prince? Buddy this is America we don’t have any royalty, just democracy."

"I see you are not of this place. You see my friend we are sort of Mother Nature’s helpers. Her son, the prince, was leading us through this land many years ago when he disappeared. We know not of what happened to him, but we are waiting here till he comes back. Once he has returned we can continue our job of brining bounty to the land. We tried for many years to do it ourselves but the prince has powers that we can not substitute"

"You must think I’m crazy to believe that kind of rodeo run around. What you just said to me is the kind of stuff that will get you thrown in the loony bin back home."

"What is this back home you speak of, and how did you not know of the prince? Only Mother Nature’s helpers are allowed in this land. Show me your powers of nature before I have your memory stricken."

"Well go ahead," said Frank, "Give me a seed to grow"

"Here you go," said the being as he handed Frank the seed, "prove me wrong if you please"

As the being started to hand over the seed Frank cocked back his right arm and let a huge hook fly. The blow connected right where he had intended it too but not the effect he had hoped. He felt his hand sink into the being’s skull like he had punched a big bowl of jello. The being’s facial features moved around to dodge Frank’s crushing blow.

Frank stared in a complete daze of what had just happened.

The being’s mouth, now where he left eye should have been, shouted for the guards. The only words Frank got off was "oh shit" before his instincts took over and he started to run. He didn’t know if he had ever ran this fast, or been so scared in his life. His boots slammed into the ground with each thundering step he took. He didn’t know where he was running there, but he sure was getting there fast. He whipped around the corner to see two men charging his way, and Frank guessed it wasn’t the welcoming committee. He quickly changed directions and went the opposite way into an alley.

He charged a low wall and jumped over it.

He sat with his back against the low wall pressed against it like he was trying to become one with it. His heart felt like it was coming closer to breaking through his ribcage and out of his chest with every beat. "I’m going crazy," he thought to himself, "Yeah, yeah that must be it. I’m seeing one of those mirage things that people see when they are out in the desert too long. This place doesn’t really exist. The sun has just completely fried my brain now."

As Frank was having an in depth conversation with himself a large robed man appeared and pointed a green rod at Frank.