Amitywood
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4th April 1999: 05:17 am
There was a crack of thunder and the sudden harsh pelting of the rain
against the window pane.
Blue Canary stirred, attempted to drown out the thrashing of the rain
and gale outside but to no avail. With a groan he turned to face the clock
hanging on the far side of his room and sighed at the ominous swinging pendulum
as he slung his legs out his bed covers. He stretched wearily and lit the gas
burner by his bed-side and set off through the creaking corridors, and down
the water logged stairs towards the kitchen.
As he raked through the barren cupboards in search of any remaining slices of bread he mused over the newspaper he had skimmed through the previous week, while sipping his 'after work' coffee at the Diner at the end of the road. It seemed there had been a mistake somewhere and the newspapers for the next county over, Crystal Lake County, had been delivered to the diner and, though the news was on the whole irrelevant, they were still on display for customers, for lack of any alternative to offer.
Blue Canary had momentarily felt like a friendly interloper in
stranger's lives. Reading about this and that. 'Local Man Receives Award for Best
Kept Chicken'. 'Family On Road To Recovery following November Blaze'. 'Girl,
13, Wins Gymnastics Trophy for County!'.
None of this really meant anything to Blue Canary, of course.
That evening though, in the diner, he had felt something for these people,
whom he had never met and, until now, had never even heard of. There was no
familiarity and yet, he felt a certain empathy towards these people.
Empathy wasn't one of Blue Canary's strong points. In fact many
emotional feelings failed to make his top ten 'Strong Points' list. But perhaps
this coffee-stained bundle of papers had caught him in a moment of weakness,
some point when his sympathies were high.
Whatever the case the stories and the feelings of empathy they evoked had remained strong in Blue Canary's mind.
So long had Blue Canary lingered on these thoughts that not only had he subconsciously found the bread but had managed to burn the toast too. Another speck on his clean slate of life. Nevermind. No time to start again, Blue Canary pulled on his long leather overcoat and stuffed his feet into his boots, opened up the back door and shutter, which almost knocked him off his feet as it hurtled in against the wind, and proceeded down the mud-ridden path towards the large, shaky looking shed at the edge of the overgrown garden as he tugged his hood over his mop of hair.
In spite of the rain, Blue Canary paused on his way to the shed and took in the landscape around him. This landscape he had called home for the past 30 years, man and boy. He mulled over the hillsides and the long vibrant green forest, though barely visible in the weather, that stretched along to the plains which reached the edge of the land that he, and his parents, had always called 'home'. There, at the edge of it, was 'Dorsia Diner'. In spite of the weather the lights fought through the dark to let the world know that they were open for business, even at this early hour. To the right, the almost completely barren landscape, save for a few trees, that eventually led to Marion Town, some 200 miles in the distance. And of course the Englunds' house. The Englunds weren't local, they had moved here and built their house some 15 years previously. There house was the only thing on the landscape that made Blue Canary's memories as a child seem so distant. They were good people, The Englunds, familiar, yet distant. They had moved from some city elsewhere.
Then there was the purchased land. The land the city had bought for future development
of Amitywood. The people from the city had, of course, asked the 240 scattered residents of Amitywood, most of whome lived in the small central village about 7 miles west of Blue Canary's lonesome home, for their vote on the development ("We're not mindless Government ogres, you know!") and much to Blue Canary's surprise, the vote had passed for the development on the purchased land.
Now, in just 2 weeks, the bulldozers and the cranes were to arrive to create a new housing development. The first of many.
Blue Canary let out a sigh, he didn't mind the thought of new people. But he had to admit that he would prefer the landscape and Amitywood to remain the way he had always liked it...
He blinked and realised the rain had stopped while he had been day-dreaming...
He seemed to be losing himself a lot lately, he shook his jacket free of the water gathered over it and opened the shed door...
