Changing Seasons. Spring, part 2.

Spring, part 2 They were out in search of a library, but Annette suddenly braked. There was actually a light on inside somewhere. And it looked like a shop. And then Annette looked inside. There didn’t seem to be much for sale. But the place didn’t feel deserted. It felt like someone had been there quite recently. “Maybe the owner’s gone next door,” she said to Marcus, pointing at the next building. Okay, it looked boarded up, but you never knew… “I think we’ve found the gas station.” This place really did look deserted.
“Good job we filled up in Newborough – we’ve got enough in the tank to get back there, and some over, but we won’t be buying any gas here.”
"Good job we've been using the bikes to get around!" A person! The first person they’d seen since they came here! Marcus and Annette had biked right down to the waterfront, and here was a person sitting in a chair, reading. Annette went over to speak to him. “Hi. I’m Annette Summer, and this is…”
“Reporters, are you?” The old man looked as if he was about to spit, but thought better of it in the presence of a lady. “Well, you can just turn right around and head out of here. All your promises about doing somethin’ about the graveyard, holdin’ the company accountable…well, they didn’t come to nothin’, did they? You can just high-tail it right out of here. You was just after gettin’ your ratin's up, and you didn’t care diddly-squat about this place and its history…”
“We’re not reporters,” Marcus said, breaking in on the old man’s embittered words. “I’m Marcus Winter, and we’ve inherited…”
“James Winter’s old place? You kin to James Winter?”
“His great-nephew…”
“Well, I’m right sorry I was so rude to you both.” The old man smiled and a much kinder person emerged. “Tench is the name. Old Tench, they call me. You’ve got a look of James about you – he had red hair too.” He shook Marcus’s hand vigorously.
“You knew my great-uncle?”
“Yep. This was a small town.”
“We came thinking we’d see if we could make a go of the farm. Get out of the city as well…but we weren’t expecting this. What happened? The place is like a ghost town.”
“You’re right there, young Winter. Started a while back, with those factories gettin’ bigger and bigger and makin’ more and more stuff that no-one needed, and takin’ more and more water out of that lake, and puttin’ nothin’ but pollution back into it till it got lower and lower… It’s as bare as all-get-out up there now.”
“We went up there. We saw it.”
“Ain’t never recovered. And then they started on the river too, pullin’ water out of that and dumpin’ their pollution into it. Farmin’ got kind of hard, the fishin’ all went as the fish died. And the factories closed one by one, and all the people left.” “The river looks okay now,” Annette said tentatively.
“Oh aye. Nature heals herself, given time and no interference. And luckily it wasn’t heavy metals they’d dumped into the waterways. They kind of linger. But the people couldn’t wait that long. I stayed. I had no other place I wanted to go. Born and bred here, married here, and my Mary lies in the graveyard here.” “So there really is nothing left? No shops? – but we went into one with a light on inside it…”
“That’s Minnie’s place. She don’t live here now, but she’s kind of attached to her shop. She drops by when she’s passing through and I dust it out for her from time to time. Must have left the light on.”
“No library? There’s so much we need to learn…”
“Library, we still have. Wasn’t worth anyone’s while to take those books away. I have the key and you’re welcome to it. Put it under the plant pot by the door when you’re done. There’s power – all those windmills work just fine. Company was made to put them in as part of their “reparations”. Didn’t save the town though. Drinkin’ water’s good too – now. They had to fix that as well. And because I’m still here, they have to keep it all goin’ and payin’ for it. Reckon they’re just waitin’ for me to die and then they can walk away from what they did. But I’m plannin’ to hang around for as long as I can.” He grinned unrepentantly. Annette walked to the far end of the pier, leaving the two of them still talking. There were fish jumping in the water – she’d have to ask Old Tench if they could come and fish here. She had to admit that the odds were pretty much stacked against her and Marcus – no local market for their produce – but she’d conceived a real liking for this place. She’d like to think that they could make it here. Well, this was the library.
“I keep it locked to keep critters out,” Old Tench had said. “But you can use it as much as you like, long as you take care of them books.” And they had found the books that would tell them what they needed to know – the library was high on practical stuff. Low on fiction, but that wasn’t so surprising – and probably just as well, Annette thought. For their days were really busy now. They were up with the dawn, weeding and watering, taking care of the plants that were, they hoped, going to be their income. When the garden was done, they’d cycle to the library and go on studying. Marcus was learning how to build the irrigation system that would save them so much time, and Annette was reading about how to farm. Without any labour-saving devices at all. The older the book, the more use it was, she found. And then there was fishing at Old Tench’s place. They’d either eat the fish or use it as a rather smelly, but highly effective fertiliser. The soil was beginning to look better already. Their lives were finding a pattern, and being able to talk to Old Tench about how they were doing and what they were doing made it all seem more real. And he in turn told them stories about the town, the buildings, the people until they began to feel like they were part of the place.


More stuff from Cyclone Sue's amazing collection of grunge - the little oilcans and so on that add that unique look to the place...