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Chapter II: Jonathan Smith

Summary:

It's time to meet Jonathan Smith and all his crazy world ;)

Notes:

Okay, let's be honest, first chapter had been an epic fail

Chapter II: Jonathan Smith

His gaze was mostly fixed on the road, like that of any responsible driver.

However, in moments of straight and deserted stretches, he allowed himself the luxury of dedicating himself to completing his latest invention, as any other addicted to that passion would do.

The sudden braking he was forced to do, almost at the risk of swallowing the screws he held in his mouth, to prevent his camper from colliding with a car that seemed to come out of nowhere, convinced him that perhaps it was appropriate to send that prototype back to a more proper moment.

Ironically, he was just working on a device that was supposed to prevent people from being distracted while driving.

If it had been up to Jonathan Smith, he would have spent his entire life inventing something or fixing an existing one, at any moment.

Born in Glasgow, he had started dismantling his own toys from the tender age of three, not because he was a violent child.

No, Jonathan was simply a curious child: gears, bolts, pieces to assemble and all sorts of mechanisms fascinated him.

His parents had immediately indulged this passion of his and while they were alive they had given him all possible stimuli.

They were proud of their little genius.

Unfortunately, Jonathan had already found himself an orphan at the age of twenty.

He had been a much craved baby but he had arrived very late and life expectancy in 1926 was what it was, there was no invention that could counter it.

Jonathan soon realized how Glasgow and its overly closed-minded inhabitants, unlike his beloved parents, were suffocating him.

The desire to leave was great, but he didn't have the money to do it.

One day by chance, while walking, he came across an unattended blue camper.

He hadn't thought twice about it: he had stolen it, had replaced the original plate with another one, had started it without any difficulty and had crossed the border undisturbed.

That was where Jonathan's life as a nomad had begun, John to his friends, because during his travels he had met tons of friends.

He never stayed in the same place for more than a few weeks.

There had been an exception, about five years later, a major exception named Martha Jones.

Jonathan had just arrived in Exeter and, as was his custom, had gone to the first available bar for breakfast.

Martha was the waitress on duty and with a sunny smile she had approached him to take his order.

Returning the smile, he had replied, even flirting a little.

She was a beautiful girl with milky-brown skin, black hair, as well as her lively and curious eyes, and Jonathan was certainly not insensitive to feminine charm.