A slow fall

Prologue

    Murrayfield was your average town. It wasn't small enough that everyone knew each other and privacy didn't exist, but it wasn't anything close to a metropolis. It was your typical small town at heart, with its own little quirks; the well-aged pub had its regulars, knocking back four pints then stumbling home down well lit cobbled streets, and the old-fashioned diner, with checkered vinyl flooring and red-white coloured booths, claimed it had the 'best burgers in town'.

Its quaint charm appealed to young people looking for somewhere to hunker down and start a family and older people wanting to move to the quiet suburbs for a peaceful retirement. 

Nothing exceptionally exciting happened in the town outside of the norm, but it had a life and soul of its own. The residents kept to a routine, but a sense of community was deeply ingrained and traditions passed the test of time. There were the bi-monthly street markets in the town centre, an annual curry making contest, and the scarecrow festival. When Caleb was a little kid, pre double digits, his favourite was always the fair. Even though he couldn't go on every ride, with his small height, he loved the atmosphere.

The fair came into town at the end of autumn. With fields on the south side of town, there was enough space for rides and bright lights to consume the skyline. The Wilkins family would go together on the second weekend it was in town. By that point the initial excitement had calmed down so the crowds were fewer, but the happiness was still there. The laughter and the smiles followed the family of five as they walked from one stall to the next.

The Wilkins parents—Margret and Tony—were frugal with money. They weren't poor, Margaret was a teacher and Tony a doctor at the local practice, but they didn't like to overspend. When asked about it they would express their belief that the Bible references, many times, that we should exhibit self-control. One such way was through resisting the temptations of living lavishly and spending beyond necessary.

That one day a year, the second Sunday when the fair was in town, they would spend just a bit more. It was a treat that Caleb cherished. They would play carnival games, eat too much junk food, and go on rides until they felt sick, but the Wilkins kids loved every second of it.

As they got older, the tradition faded. The eldest Wilkins boys started going with their friends instead—at the time being seen out with their parents was social suicide—and the youngest began to lose his love for the atmosphere he once adored.

Time changes things.

The Wilkins family still did things together. The parents encouraged a weekly game night, though it became harder to get the children to listen, so it dwindled, bi-monthly, monthly, special occasions, until it was whenever they managed to exist together. Margaret and Tony, though strict, found it hard to say no to the boys a lot of the time. They set clear boundaries—curfew at ten on a school night, on weekends later only if it was deserved, chores had to be completed, behaviour kept in check—things they believed made up a man. He should be righteous, be brave in the face of opposition, remain faithful to the truth, have a good reputation with outsiders and so on.

As a family they would attend the weekly Church services. When they were younger, all three boys attended Sunday school, taught by Margaret, which helped in molding them into the perfect Christian boys. Through parental encouragement and strong moral compasses they participated in voluntary work, helped their neighbours and raised money for the church. They were your staple small town Christian household, much like many in the area.

While they didn't spend much, they had a nice house in an upper-class area. It was a necessity, of course, with three growing, rambunctious boys needing a lot of space.

They lived in a two-story suburban house, with a white picket fence and a large backyard. The streets' cul-de-sac design made it safer for the kids to play out front, and the numerous families in residence meant there were always children free to play with—though the brothers found happiness in each other's company.

The elementary school was only a ten minute walk down the road, perfect for Margret and the kids' early years. The middle school and high school were further afield, though reachable by bus. All the kids in the area went to the same schools up until graduation, with only one within travel distance. The student body was a mesh of their small town and city kids, locals with a different upbringing creating a clash of religion, beliefs, and attitudes—a positive influence for the small town, relatively sheltered kids.

The city was close enough for frequent visits, but using public transport took just over an hour, so unless the journey was necessary, most of the children tended to stay in town. There was enough to do that travel seemed pointless.

Still, as they got older, there were things that only the city had. The Wilkins boys began to go frequently, the hustle and bustle filling them with excitement and a sense of adventure. When they came of age and graduated, first Adam—the eldest of the Wilkins boys—and then Bailey, they moved away for the next stage of their lives. They didn't go too far, but it was far enough that Caleb felt it. The loneliness; the distance.

It was only a year, he had to remind himself. He only had a year until he too graduated and could say goodbye to this small town that was slowly suffocating him as well. Though hope was a dangerous thing, and he worried he'd never make it out.