You decide to talk to the Amish Guy. He's just finished tying up his horse and his walking toward the grocer. You give a quick jog to catch up. "Excuse me," you call, reaching out to touch his sleeve. "Uhm, excuse me. Hi. So. I'm kinda lost? I lost my phone and don't really know where I am. I mean, I know I'm in Quickbeam but I'm not really sure where this is, exactly."

The man looks at you with a measure of concern. You stutter on, "Oh! Sorry, uhm, a phone is like a thing that you keep in your pocket-"

"I know what a phone is." His expression changes to a compound of skepticism and pity.

"Aren't you Amish?"

"Mennonite."

You're utterly unsure of what the difference is so you choose to say nothing. Suddenly, the man notices the leather hanging around your neck.

"Say friend," he says, "what's that you've got?" he gestures to his own neck.

"Oh, this thing?" you say, pulling the pendant out from under your shirt. "I don't know what it is. I had it when I woke up this morning. Its kinda cool," you shrug, trying to gain some traction with this guy.

The man looks at you like he's not sure whether to be amused by you. Then, he holds out his hand. "Names Menno." Menno the Mennonite? You almost say, but instead you give what you hope is a grateful smile.

"Now then," Menno continues, "how can I help you find your way today?" He starts again toward the grocery store, more slowly than before, and gestures for you to come with.

"Well, do you know where I could find a phone? I can call my sister to come pick me up."

"Might be old Seam has one, though I've never asked. I'm heading there to see him now, so come along."

You trot along next to Menno, who strides into the grocery store. A bell on the door announces your arrival. A small man with whispy white-blonde hair and reading glasses glances up from what looks to be some kind of Guns -n- Ammo type magazine, then gives a broad smile to Menno.

"My friend!" the man leans across the counter to shake Menno's hand. "That time of year again?" he chuckles. "And hello to you, name's Seamus!" He shakes your hand as well. "This one," he gestures back at Menno, "only comes to see his old friend for the last market of the year, and then one doesn't hear from him again 'til another year's gone!" He's smiling and shaking his head in mock chastisement.

Menno chortles good naturedly. "A bit hard to keep in touch, Seam!" He lifts his hat to remind you both of his religion. "But speaking of, my friend here is in a spot of trouble and would ask to use your phone?"

"Ah, if only I could help I would! Broke the damned thing just this morning. "Seamus digs in his pocket and holds out a phone with a shattered screen. "Was looking for my glasses and knocked it right off the counter! Damned thing." he repeats, looking genuinely perplexed at the idea that he can't help you out.

"Well then, best try your luck with Red Maggie." Menno looks apologetic.

"Or, if you don't mind helping me get ready for the market tomorrow, I can offer you a cot right here in the store!" Seamus gestures behind him. "Not as comfortable as a fine bed at the inn, but it could be worse! I've bunked here a night or two myself!"

You can't believe your bad luck. But, there's nothing you can do about it today, with the sun about to go down.