The Brandywine Prophet

4.4 Setting the Stage

Excitement flourished quietly around the hill on the morning of July four. There was unusual foot traffic, even before William awoke; hikers and joggers made their way past the home and around the hill to observe without appearing to observe. Children teetered their bikes on kickstands where Brandywine met the dirt and played Sardines in the denser patches of foliage. When a noise emerged from the hill or the home, Trent Johnson would shape his hands into a “T”, whisper “Time!” and listen for any advancement on the day’s affairs.

There were no offensive posts, no Ninety-five Thesis nailed to the Carmel’s front door. Maybe the offenders decided enough was enough, or maybe the extra attention on the Carmels kept them away. Janie, however, awoke to the image of her father in a colored-pencil straitjacket standing beside a bulldozer and a decapitated little girl. The artwork was initialed “T&C” in the bottom right corner.

It took the survey team six hours to determine the best path for the bulldozers to the top of the hill. A few days ago, the lumber truck buckled and slid down the front, leaving zigzags of exposed dirt in the green. Now, nobody was taking chances. The shallowest incline was found at the back of the hill but the larger trucks had to maneuver just right at the base to manage the angle. Sandy tread-marks already tore a path from Brandywine Drive, around the corral, between the hill’s base and the trees, and ended in a crescent of thrashed dirt and grass where the work trucks had to readjust their vehicles to prepare for the incline. Will experienced similar issues with his riding lawnmower; if the grass was damp, he learned to stay away.

Preparations for the event were simple. There were no official invites, just a general announcement at Brandywine’s June board meeting that all residents were welcome to attend the brief ceremony. Jaxon Silverman made the smiling announcement only hours after telling the board that Brandywine Gardens was a pipe-dream.

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The padlock. It was the biggest reason Hyde feared his mission to retrieve the hidden speakers from his friend’s shed. If he cut the lock, William would know someone had been inside.

The menacing red bolt cutters looked out of place in Hyde’s hands as he scampered across the weed-covered plots of phase fifteen then into the woods. He stuck his arms out like like a flamboyant T-Rex so the tool wouldn’t rub it’s greasy parts against his khaki shorts or crisp Polo.

He spent hours spinning circles in the living room with his wife, plotting ways to get back inside that dang shed. If they could get Will to invite them, Kayla could distract him while Hyde snatched the evidence... but Hyde didn’t remember where he hid each speaker. There were four in all and he placed them too quickly, dropping them behind disorganized junk and tools. He barely remembered the layout of the workspace; he’d have to hunt for them, and that would take time.

Those troublesome little speakers would be the hottest gift for the Christmas season. The manufacturer was a startup company, just small enough to fly under the radar of the majors, but just large enough for Hyde to discover them at a trade show. Their product demonstration floored him; the craftsmanship and sound quality was on par with Bose, and a rechargeable lithium-polymer battery and incredible wireless range made each speaker a “wow-look-at-that” novelty as well as a “can’t-live-without-it” functional necessity. He purchased fifty sets of two, making Whitaker Electronics the sole distributor in Michigan. 

When Will nonchalantly insulted Hyde’s ambition at the bar, Hyde knew a demonstration of his fancy new speakers would prove his passion for his work. When the prank was over, Hyde planned to knock on the shed door, laugh his ass off, and reveal the new technology to a dumbfounded Will... but the evening took another turn. The revelation was put on hold.