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Hy-Breasail, the aftermath: Chapter 2
Published Jul 7, 2015


Written By

oldmember_lucianna88

Storyteller
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Hy-Breasail the aftermath.

Chapter 2.

The passage of time.

Hy-Breasail the aftermath.

Chapter 2.

The passage of time.
The old man washed his hands at the end of a day's toil. The sawdust had been swept up for another day, the clang of hammers and nails silenced, tins of paint returned to their righful shelves.

Only he and his best employee- his only employee, in fact- remained in the workshop.

"Davis?" he said to the younger man over the sound of the running tap. "Work's finished for the day, come on"



"Davis, lad", the older man approached him and sat down beside him at the desk when he made no response.

"Just a second" Davis mumbled, his face wrinkled with concentration. "Damn these machines" he muttered to himself, "they're too complicated. Why can't they just make things simple?"

"I hear you" the older man agreed, the addition of a computer had been a source of much head-scratching for them both. "What are you doing anyway?"

"I'm trying to create flyers. I thought some colourful leaflets could generate us some more business"

"That can wait until tomorrow" the older man said gently, "Now come on, switch it off. You work too hard, lad. How does some dinner sound?"
The two men locked up the workshop and went next door into their humble home. They sat in the same chairs as they always did and contented they ate their meal.

They lived a monotonous existence, but it was a comfortable one. Together they ran a successful business by day and watched game shows by night.

They had done so for the better part of six years now.

"Six years" Davis lamented to himself from time to time. How could it be that long? He was in his mid-twenties now, the progression of time alarmed him more than just a little bit.



Had it really been six years since Kim had disappeared? Where had the time gone?

He remembered himself on that dreadful day. Standing at the window. Waiting.

He remembered how he went out and searched the town, waited, searched again and waited some more. For days he repeated the process. But Kim never returned. He had no idea what had happened to her. She had only gone out for a little while.

Had she left him and been too cowardly to say? He didn't believe so. But where was she then? He had no answers.
It hadn't been long before he found himself faced with another great dilemma:

Time was wearing on and he knew his brother would soon return home, therefore he would have to move on again.

To where, he didn’t know, but he was determined not to go far incase Kim should return soon and be unable to find him again.

All he had was a small wad of money that he had taken from his brother’s chest of drawers and another of his outfits. He hated stealing but it was his only hope. He promised himself he would return the money one day by post when things got better, and off to a neighbouring town he went with a sum of just sixteen punts in his back pocket and a heavy heart.
His stomach rumbled with growing hunger as he went. He had walked less than half a mile when he discovered a small allotment. The sun had set and the place seemed deserted for the night.

He walked inside the allotment and looked around, there was something ready for the picking, quite what it was he didn't know. Maybe carrots, rhubarb perhaps. He would soon find out.

He stared at the shovel hanging on a shed through the fence and contimplated using it to dig for his dinner. He felt pathetic and ashamed.
Before he could reach out to take the shovel a soft voice interupted him. He turned around, trying his best to not look suspicious.

"Allotment's closing in ten more minutes, lad" a man in a maroon shirt and scruffy apron said, "you've left it a little late to look around. Were you interesting in renting a plot?"

"I...well.." Davis began

"It's ten punts for a plot only, or pay fifteen and you get a plot and a shed, plus complimentary shovel and store box. Are you interested?"

"A shed, you say?"
For the next couple of nights Davis lived in his tiny rented shed. He woke several times each night with cramps in his legs and aching muscles, but at least it was a roof over his head. He snuck out in the night time to wash at the pond and drink the water.

"This is no way to live" he said himself, but he had no idea where he would go next.
One morning Davis snuck out of his shed and found the owner of the allotment outside waiting on him.

"Could I have a word with you? Davis, isn't it?" he said. Davis nodded nervously.

"It's just there's been some reports of vegetables being dug up from other folk's plots. You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?", the man sighed, "look lad, are you sleeping in that shed at night? Are you living here?"

Davis didn't put up an argument. He was too exhausted. He admitted that he was living there.

He expected to be ordered to leave right away but instead the old man did an unexpected and kind thing. "I don't know what's going on your life exactly, but why don't you let me make you a decent meal and get you some clean clothes? I live on site. You can tell me about it if you like, if you don't wanna talk that's fine too, but I imagine you're pretty sick of eating haricots and sleeping in a shed right now"

"That would be wonderful, sir" Davis said gratefully.
The man found an old outfit from his youth for Davis and made him some pancakes.

"Interesting outfit" Davis remarked.

"Got it in Egypt. 1962. A remarkable country, I tell you. Remarkable. I travelled a lot when I was younger. Egypt was my favourite place of them all. Have you done much travelling yourself?"

"Not really" Davis said, "I have no passport, so...I don't expect I'll be going anywhere soon"

"You should most definitely apply for one" the man said, "I'm a strong believer that a person should see the world"

"I can't" Davis said, unable to meet the man's eyes. "Technically I don't exist. I have no identity. It's a long story, I'm afraid. You wouldn't believe me if I told you"

"Try me" came the reply, "I've heard many an odd tale over the years, I guarantee nothing you say can surprise me"
Davis began to tell his new friend the whole story. Kim, Hy-Breasail, his life disappearing, the strange people and creatures he met on the island, all of it. He was aware he must have sounded stark raving mad, but he didn't care anymore. It was a relief to finally talk to someone else about it all.

Wilkie listened intently. He ''ooohed'' and ''aahhhed'' and nodded his head. Davis supposed he was just humouring him, but Wilkie didn't make judgement. He didn't tell Davis whether he believed his story or not at the end, but he was at least polite enough to hear him out.
"And that's how I ended up here" Davis said as he finished his tale and began his fourth helping of pancakes, "now you know"

"Say" Wilkie said, "you said you dabbled in carpentry?"

"Uh, yeah. I'm quite good at it if I don't say so myself" Davis answered, a little confused. After telling such a unusual story he had expected the man would have been full of questions about the beasts of Hy-Breasail, its unusual air, the Hy-Breasailians...he didn't expect to be asked about carpentry of all things.

"I have a workshop. I dabble a little myself" Wilkie said, "truth be told, I'm rather awful at it. I've always been interested in growing vegetables and flowers you see, and if I don't say so myself, I too am rather good at that. My late wife set up the workshop to encourage me, thought I'd be able to build some lovely wooden flower pots for my harvest, crates to sell my carrots and tomatoes in at the market. But it never worked out. I'm handy with a shovel and a packet of seeds but I'm a disaster with a saw"

"It's simple enough. I could show you if you like?" Davis offered. "It's no trouble for me. You've been kind to me, I'd like to"
"I'll make a flower pot for you, just watch what I do, okay? It's simple enough"

Wilkie silently marvelled at Davis's effortless ability to create something beautiful and useful from a lump of scrap.

Unknown to Davis, Wilkie was about to take a chance on him.

Davis was exactly the kind of craftsman Wilkie had been looking for.

Things were about to start looking up.

Over the following weeks, months, and finally years, the two of them were to mold themselves into the perfect team.
With the combination of the two great minds, eventually came a life changing venture- their own gardenware store.

It was a success from day one, it was everything both men could have wished for.

Davis had found a true friend and an ideal work partner in Wilkie, and for a while he felt like his old self again. Part of him would always mourn his old life. He would certainly never stop loving or forget about Kim, that much he was certain of. But he had finally found the drive to make a go of life again.

Little did he know it was all about to turn upside down once more.

"Hey, Wilkie! Look at this" Davis called out one morning not long after he had created their own flyers for the business for the first time.

"What is it?" Wilkie said with a vague tone of curiosity, "not more of that junk mail stuff?"

"No" Davis said, he was quite proud of himself for finally mastering the basics of a computer over the last few days. "No, it's an e-mail. That means electronic mail. People send mail to you electronically. Can you believe that, eh?"

"A strange world, Davis. A strange world. Well, what does it say? This electronic mail? Anything interesting?"
"Indeed" Davis said, "it's from the central Flanahan insance asylum. They saw one of our flyers. They want to hire us to build a new recreational area for their patients. A tranquil space outdoors where they can relax in the summer months. They're very impressed with our gardenware range and would like to meet with us"

"Wonderful" Wilkie said, "the computer is useful after all. Tell them it's a yes from us. It's about time we ventured outside of our shop and into new opportunities"

"It certainly is" Davis said, and he hit the reply button. "Let's see what the future brings"...
Thanks for reading...more to come soon

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