Al Parker, nicknamed Salty because of his habit of practically burying everything he ate in salt, had been neither a good or bad boss. Like everything else in Owens Farm, he was barely noticed by townspeople. In fact, he was barely noticed by the miners who worked for him.
If it weren’t for the large trucks emptying his house, within days of the mine closing, he never would have been noticed at all.
Perhaps feeling a bit of remorse at the closing of the mine, Salty Parker tried to find the mayor to express his regret at leaving. Quickly though, he had second thoughts when he noticed what could have been just about every mine employee marching up Elm Street to where he lived. This type of passion and energy was highly unusual in a town like Owens Farm.
Assessing the situation and realizing that he never had to set foot in Owens Farm again, Salty Parker’s remorse of just a few moments before turned quickly to self preservation. Jumping into his car and speeding off, Salty Parker gave little wave to the mob gathering in front of his house.
Several tried to pursue but Parker was quickly over the hill, never to be seen again.
“Burn it” screamed the mob and it was in this moment that Chief Harry Sager and several other police officers of the Owens Farm Police Department performed one of the few real acts of policing they ever had to do.
Running up from the police station, because Owens Farms only police car was getting an oil change at the new service station on State Route 123, the puffing and panting officers positioned themselves between the mob and the house.
Double over and desperately trying to get his breath, Chief Sager finally got out, “C’mon guys put the matches out. Nothin’ gonna burn today”.
And with that it was over. The mob’s passion had instantly gone.
Apparently the blandness of the town of
Chief Sager decided that it was time for lunch and went down to the restaurant on
And with this, the last official of the Eastern Mineral and Mining Associates left town and the large bland house at the end of
# # #
The house around the corner from Mary’s house and just at the end of
While it bore the gray siding so prevalent in Owens Farm, it had at least twice the number of rooms of any house in town. This large home was the former residence of Al Parker, the last manager of the Eastern Mineral and Mining Associates.
For a while, several citizens from the next town, just over the ridge, tried to make a small hotel out of the abandoned house but with no business in Owens Farm, there was no need for folks to stay over night in the town.
Abandoned for many years, the house though remained in very good condition. Since it was the nature of the people of Owens Farm to not poke their noses into other people’s business and, the big house at the end of
Periodically a neighbor or two would mow the grass of the big when it just got too long and looked out of place. Remember, that the good folks of Owens Farm didn’t want anything to stand out and look out of place, so mowing the grass regained the conformity that made everyone comfortable.
Years passed and now, today, nobody was quite sure who the owner was and nobody in town ever really cared to find out, as long as the house fit in.
# # #
1 Year Ago
The big house at the end of
Mr. Carlyle was an average size man who had sort of a confidence about him that said, without words that he been to many places and experienced many things. He had white hair, just long enough to blow and wave when the winds picked up. His eyes seemed to completely know his surroundings even though they were often gazing off in an entirely different direction.
What really set off Mr. Carlyle and that which made him totally different from other residents of Owens Farm were his colorful clothes. Perhaps colorful was an understatement for Mr. Carlyle liked the brightest of bright colors, often with bold patterns and prints.
The day Carlyle moved in, most of the town took no notice of his arrival, at least for a few hours. Even the flashing of his bright jacket as he stepped out of the taxi brought no notice except for the two children peering from an upstairs window that could see the large house at the end of
“Move on over BD, it’s about time I looked out of my own window”, said Mary giving Ben a quick but firm punch in the ribs”
“Ow. Watch it Mary, those ribs are still sore from Luke’s punches”, Ben muttered as he moved out of the small window.
“That guy isn’t very tall”, said Mary. “I bet I’m as tall as him. Is his hat bright green”?
Still rubbing his sore ribs, BD moved back to share the window with Mary but a large moving truck blocked their view of Mr. Carlyle and the large bland house.
“That’s a large truck, wonder if he’s got a wife and kids coming?” said Mary, jockeying with Ben for a better position at the window.
“My turn”, shouted Ben and he gave Mary a little shove pushing her out of the window, the chair she was sitting in and onto the floor.
“BD, for that your never getting another look out of the window”, declared Mary.
“Look Mary, let’s just go for a walk. Perhaps in the direction of the moving van and casually check out the stuff he’s got”, said Ben backing away from Mary.
“Sound good to me” said Mary. “It saves you the humiliation of being pushed out of the way by a girl”.
Those words instantly cut deep in Ben for in his mind, it seamed that had been beaten, stepped on and thrown around by just about everyone in Owens Farm.
Starting to lash out at Mary, he saw her smile and realized that Mary was not mean to him. It had all been in jest, gentle ribbing among friends.
Running down the stairs and through the kitchen Ben and Mary were off to do a little spying on the new neighbor.
“Back soon mom”, Mary shouted as she and Ben left to head for a not-so-quick walk by the moving van.
As they turned the corner onto
Mary had sensed it too as she got the first glimpse of the moving van in front of the big house at the end of Elm Street. “Yeah but… wait I know. BD it color. Look at the moving van”.
True enough it was color. Ben and Mary slowly walked toward the moving van and were both speechless. There before them was the most colorful collection of furniture, paintings, trinkets and do-dads that had ever been unloaded in the town of
Near the tree in the front yard was a brilliant, fluorescent yellow table positioned next to an orange lamp shaped like a yawning hippopotamus. There were multicolored couches, a desk of brilliant green and seemingly endless rainbows of kitchen utensils, boxes overflowing with all shades and manner of household goods.
“Blue cabinets and purple chairs”, said Mary, “I don’t believe it. The people in this town are going to flip”.
“Yeah, they’ll chat it up at the diner for a few days and then forget about it like folks around here always do”, said Ben.
From their position down the street, they could see clustered together on the lawn, more color than was to be found anywhere in Owens Farm. Ben felt that surely aircraft flying over the grey hills and town could spot this blaze of green, blues, red, oranges and any other hue that could be imagined.
“Let’s get closer”, whispered Ben to Mary who was now standing silent at the endless parade of colorful items being unloaded from the moving van.
Running down the street, Mary and Ben had now given up any idea of casually strolling by and examining the household now moving into the big house.
In awe at the colorful explosion around them, they had not even realized that they were now running up the front walk of the house. Finally they stopped halfway between the porch and the street and reveled at the color surrounding them.
In awe, Ben and Mary started wandering between the boxes the moving men were piling on the lawn. The colors filled their senses, overshadowing any idea that they had about staying out of other peoples things. A red box over there, a purple box here and in a box that was partially open, they saw brilliant figurines catching the rays of the sun and reflecting a sea of color in all directions at once.
“Mary” cried Ben as he stood up with a jolt. “Do you notice anything about these things? About the colors I mean. Do you notice what’s missing. Look. Look carefully”.
Mary stood, faced Ben and was immediately startled by the figure standing behind Ben.
“Behind you, watch out” she shouted. And taking a quick step away from the figure she tripped over a small fuchsia table behind her and fell into the bushes.
Ben spinning around was too startled by the looming figure. Starting to run, he tripped over Mary trying to untangle herself from the bush that now held her captive.
The figure walked to the edge of the porch, bent over slightly. The mouth beneath the angular nose drew a slight breath and said firmly, “Of course something’s missing. I don’t like grey”, and the he smiled.
Mary and Ben lay motionless in the now flattened bush as the figure came down the porch steps and offered a hand in assistance.
Mary squirmed away from the hand breaking several branches before she tumbled into the boxes stacked on the lawn. Ben squirmed and now also became deeply tangled in the bushes.
“You know of course that it is polite to ask before you go poking through things belonging to others”, said the figure pulling back his hand and now standing on the lawn.
Ben cringed at the words coming from the figure of a man standing before him. This is going to be worse than anything Luke ever did to me, thought Ben. And poor Mary, she’s never had to face a thing like this.
Mary though was silent, imagining a fate that was going to be quick and most likely painful or at the very least embarrassing, like a call to Officer Vache or her parents.
Of course anything one imagines is almost always worse than the reality of the situation.
The figure again extended his hand, smiled and announced, “My name’s Cleophus Constanius Carlyle, been called that for some time now. Glad to meet you. I figured that the townsfolk I would meet be upright citizens. Well, at least they would be standing upright”.
Ben took the Mr. Carlyle’s outstretched hand and with very little effort was gently pulled out of the bushes.
Picking pieces of the bush out of his clothes Ben said, “Sorry about the bush sir. I broke it, so I’ll replace it sir”.
“First don’t call me sir. My full name is a mouthful so Cleo will do although an occasional Mr. Carlyle might be nice. And second while the green of evergreens is pretty, it’s not bright enough for me”.
Motioning to the shrubbery around the front porch, Cleo continued, “I’m ripping these out and putting plants that are a little more colorful. So, no need to replace what you broke, this time anyway”.
Ben having completed the removal of all twigs and branches from his clothing said, “My name’s Ben but friends know me as DB and this is…”
“I can introduce myself” said Mary, lifting herself from the pile of boxes she had knocked over. “Mary Moore, Sir… Mr…. er Cleo. I live just around the corner and DB and myself were just so fascinated by the colorful things you own that we had to come over and well sorry we were pests but this color just can’t be found in Owens Farm, apparently we lost our heads and never should have gone on your porch without you permission and…”.
“Hold it little lady. Take a breath”, Cleo said with a chuckle. “Everything is all right. Now if you will excuse me, I’ve got a bit of brightening to do. Come back and visit anytime. You’re more than welcome.”
With that Mr. Cleophus Constanius Carlyle turned and walked back into the house. The movers resumed their jobs and Mary and Ben stood there for a second before strolling back down
“What do you think he means by ‘brightening’ Mary”, said Ben.
Mary could not imagine but already the bright packaging and household goods were starting to draw the attention of Owens Farm. The newly repaired police car slowly rolled by with Officer Vache sternly gazing out the window and wondering what manner of folk were now moving into Owens Farm.
Just before turning the corner onto Mary’s Street, Ben gave a little look back over his shoulder at the house at the end of the street. “This could be fun Mary. This could be fun”, and he smiled a little smile.
# # #
The next several months answered the question about ‘brightening” than Ben had asked Mary. With in the month, Mr. Carlyle had painted the outside of the large house at the end of
Lime green shutters lay against siding painted orange-red. The porch was redone in purple tiles with cyan blue highlights. Doors were done not in just one color but in the entire spectrum of colors. Sometimes violet hues to red other times red hues to violet.
Even the concrete sidewalk, right up to the curb was painted in the brightest colors available. The roof look like something out of a fairy tail as its array of color caught the sun at varying angles from sunrise to sunset providing a magnificent light show for the neighbors.
But in the beginning the neighbors did not appreciate or even want a ‘magnificent light show” and the grumblings were loud.
A least one family had threatened to move from a house near Mr. Carlyle’s home and relocate to the other side of Owens Farm but that required more conviction than most folks in Owens Farm had and soon the grumblings were silent. The citizens of Owens Farm just muttered under their breath to each other about “that” house at the end of
Mr. Carlyle tried but he could not endear himself to the citizens of Owens Farm. He invited neighbors over for barbeque but every one had excuses and other things to do. He offered to donate a new police car to the town but was politely but surely rebuffed. His first time attending a meeting of the Owens Farm City Council had others at the meeting sitting as far from him as possible. Mr. Carlyle was sure that if they could move to another room, they would. The meeting was the shortest ever on record.
Mr. Carlyle always dressed as flamboyantly as the house in which he lived. The shoes he wore were often of different, but always bright colors. Sometimes his pants were as green as any worn by a Leprechaun. There were red vests covered by blue jackets.
The only things that never changed were his flowing white hair and the affection he had developed for Mary and Ben.
As for Mary and Ben, they found Cleo fascinating for he brought color to their young lives in the grey town of
They often stood on the sidewalk in front of Cleo’s house and played a little game to see who could find what was the latest color added to the house. Cleo would often come out sit on the porch and talk with them for hours.
They talked about the weather, the possibility of new road construction on
Sitting on Mary’s porch one Sunday afternoon, Ben and Mary watched Cleo drive down the street in his multicolored car, wearing almost glowing clothes. Cleo gave a hearty wave to Mary and Ben and turned onto his street.
Mary leaned to Ben and said, “Well he did say he didn’t like grey”.
Ben thought to himself, maybe Mr. Carlyle wasn’t crazy but he sure was close.
________________________________
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Traveler’s Log - 486 AD - I Will Flee This Dying World
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