Yellow Blithe

Brad Walker

Chapter One

‘Do I know that person?’ Lee Sebring thought to herself as she passed a young man entering the music store she had just exited. She glanced at him; he did the same; nothing more, nothing less. No words were exchanged and the two moved on to do what they had set out to do in the first place. ‘… No… Guess not…’

Straton wasn’t a huge city, but still of very decent size. It was the capital of the West Calpurnia shire and an important coal-mining city for the Republic of Aspasia. It was a slightly secluded city; with mountains all around it like a barrier.

It had seamed like such a long time since Dove Wallace had set foot within the Straton city limits. It was, to some degree, his home. When he was eleven-years-old, his mother moved him and his younger brother to the city from their rural, farming village in the north, due to the fact that there were more (and better) job opportunities for her there, at the time. Since then, though, Aspasia’s reliance on coal had begun to diminish and unemployment was on the rise in Straton.

No matter; it was no longer Dove’s concern. Besides, from what he could see, the city hadn’t changed very drastically since he was there last. He was now no more than a tourist, just passing through on business. At sixteen, he took a job that required him to travel constantly, and since then he hadn’t been back to Straton, and had lost contact with everyone he knew from there.

Dove met up with his co-workers at 4:45 in the afternoon, in a plaza towards the center of Straton, with a little, bistro in it. At the very center of the plaza was a fountain, where he found Zoë Sinclair (his boss… in some sense). She was a tall, thin, carefree, daughter of nature, who wore long, flowing, colorful skirts, and baggy shirts.

“Good afternoon, Dove.” She greeted, as she teetered along the edge of the fountain, in danger of falling in.

“Hey.”

“Did you have a good time roaming around your old stomping grounds?”

“Sure.”

“Aww, that’s goo—Ahh! Crap!” Before she could finish her sentence, Zoë lost her balance and fell into the fountain. “… I’m wet…” She said simply.

“… Do you think they’ll let us into the restaurant if she’s soaked?” Valora—Zoë’s right-hand-woman—asked Kira (another one of their co-workers).

“Hmm… I doubt it… This place seams awfully stuck-up…”

“Then, we’re eating here?” Dove gestured to the bistro.

“It was Valora’s idea.” Al (the only other male member of the quintet Dove worked in) said.

“… I think I’m just gonna go back to the hotel.” Dove said.

“Aww, Dove, are you sure?” Zoë asked, stepping out of the fountain, dragging quite a bit of water with her.

“Yeah. Not hungry.”

“Are you feeling okay?” Kira asked.

“Yeah; fine. I’ll talk to you later.”

“… Yeah, I think I’m gonna go too.” Al said. “See ya at the hotel.” And with that, the two of them were gone.

“… Guess it’s just us girls then.” Zoë commented, wringing the water out of one of her long, blonde ponytails.

Dove drove back to the hotel; he always drove, it made him crazy not to. His co-workers had come to the conclusion that he must have issues with people being in control of him. Oh well, they were all notably neurotic, or at least a little off-center (like Zoë, who led them).

“So what’s wrong with you?” Dove asked Al, who sat beside him, in the passenger’s seat; the tone in his voice very distant, as if he didn’t really care. “Not like you to pass up a meal.”

“Ooo! Burn!” Al replied. It was a bit of an insult; Al was slightly heavyset and had a tendency to be something of a glutton at times. “That was a low blow!”

“It’s just out of character for you.”

“I should be asking you what’s wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong with me.”

“Then why are you being such a jerk?”

“I’m not.”

There was a silence. If this had been a conversation with anyone else, Dove probably would have ended the conversation right there; but there was something of a brotherly bond between Al and him, probably because they were surrounded by crazy women, who they had worked with every day for the past four years.

“… I saw someone I used to know.”

“Oh really?”

“She didn’t recognize me.”

“And that’s why you’re depressed?”

“No.”

“But seeing her is what’s making you all pissy, right?”

“… Yeah.”

“Do you wanna move back here or something?”

“No.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“I don’t know…”

Dove wasn’t one to talk about his feelings; it gets on people’s nerves anyway, he thought. Even with Al, the person he regarded as the closest to him, he didn’t like to be totally open. At this point he would just be relieved to get back to the hotel and drop into bed, which is exactly what he did, once he got there.

“You’re going to bed now?” Al asked.

“Why not?” Dove replied, muffled, as he was lying facedown in a pillow.

“It’s 7:30… it’s not even dark yet.”

“I’m tired. We have to get up in the morning; we’re leaving.”

There was no sense in arguing. When Dove decided to sulk there wasn’t much that anyone could do to stop him. But, as it was mentioned, he and Al had a bond that was very hard to describe.

So, knowing nothing else he could do, Al took off his shoes and climbed into bed with him. He kissed his neck and put his arm around him. It wasn’t much longer before Dove warmed up and rolled over so that he faced him and gave him a small kiss on the mouth.