Rabbits in the Garden

Prelude

The city of Newton had grown quite quickly at the turn of the twentieth century. After the state expanded the roads in response to the popularity of automobiles, the little villages that sat nestled in the foothills flourished. A few shops and parks cropped up in more populated areas, much to the relief of those who had originally been traveling out of town for their leisure time. Near the center of one of the villages, on the corner of a broad, nicely wooded street, stood one such new building. 

It was square and tall, with large stately windows circling both stories. The decorative wooden facade of the storefront spanned across the adjoining road-facing walls, which both housed a small square entrance. The doors on either side were heavy and imposing, and mannequins in suits and ties stood displayed within its picture windows. This was Washburn’s, a men’s clothing store established and inhabited by Newton local John Washburn. 

John was a sociable fellow, and made it part of his business model to maintain relationships with customers. If one were to ask him, he would simply say that networking is one of humanity’s basic skills that is not only necessary to survive, but also indicative of being a sound-minded, upstanding member of society. The fact that most of his customers were also locals who needed suits for their out-of-town jobs certainly made networking easier, however. 

Across the street on the opposite corner lot there sprawled an ambitious body of urban wilderness. From the road it didn't look like much, just a dense line of untended trees and bushes, weighed down with parasitic ivy. A small, unassuming inlet connecting the road to a break in the trees, with conservatively spread gravel dotting the grass between, was the only indication that it had ever been visited. 

Lately, however, John had been given pieces of gossip from his customers that the local college had been eyeing the lot as a site for a new educational building. Many people had been seen entering and exiting the treeline with surveying equipment. By the end of the next month, a large clearing had been made with a larger entrance, and it appeared construction was being done on a strangely shaped building in the center. While most of the modestly sized brick building was fashioned to look like a cottage, the right wing of the building rose up into the sky like a macabre metal sculpture. The more activity there was within the lot, the more the locals made conjecture and lore about the building’s purpose.

Finally, months after beginning construction, the flow of people in and out of the lot changed from laborers to students. The outermost treeline remained, still unkept, to veil the new building. Still, many locals would alter their walks throughout town in order to gawk at its odd shape and color. The jagged metal goliath that had terrified the locals had been hidden away behind giant ligaments of steel, like a building-sized metal armadillo. Some people had approached passing scholars to ask about their studies, but most got an unsatisfying answer that had something to do with “measuring distances between stars”.

John Washburn did not let these new developments worry him. Business had been steady as ever, if not better now that people had a reason to walk past his store. Plus, his mind had been recently occupied by a much nicer problem; he had been approached by the Edison Electric Light Company with an offer to install the town's first incandescent bulbs right in his store. The offer came with a steep discount on the terms that Washburn’s would heavily advertise their light bulbs, and John felt it unwise to refuse such a generous offer. Especially, John felt, since being the most well lit store within five miles would be sure to draw plenty of customers.

Summer heat krept upon the town as the months rolled on. One day someone noticed there hadn't been many students coming into town, and it was assumed summer break had started for the university. The lighting company came and installed the bulbs at Washburn's, which was met with excitement from its consumerbase. Each night as the sun went down, the incandescent lights gave the already grand building a mesmerizing halo that poured out onto the sidewalk. John was satisfied.