1 Chapter 1: Burnsley

Burnsley is a town nestled between a mountain and the forest. The occupants live off the wealth and prosperity that the mine brings to the town. Though, in exchange for this greater life, the town is run by the company known as Commodity. The company owns many businesses and towns to gain raw resources to produce goods for their globally dominating line of high quality goods. Commodity reaps countless dollars in profits and shares just enough for the towns to prosper.

Although the company cares for the towns, it doesn't care what happens to the people living in them.

Since I can remember, my mother has worked tirelessly to provide for me when the mine claimed my father. I've been told that he was a well respected man within the community and had even been asked to be its mayor. My mother had spent her last years working any jobs she could to scrape by enough cash for our home. We never had much, but we were content with what we had. She always claimed that living modestly was more fulfilling than having all the money in the world.

I took these words deep into my heart as a child and tried to live by them. I was proud to be a Young. I found the pleasures in working for others by accompanying my mother on her odd jobs. The best part had always been the grateful looks we received for our help. But those sunny days have passed. The years had not been kind to my mother. As most of the townspeople receive, my mother grew sick from a mysterious illness that has always plagued Burnsley. A cure was available, but it was only offered at a hideous price. So I have taken up the jobs my mother cannot perform anymore to save up for this cure.

I left our fading house before dawn as I always had. The stars had long gone back to slumber in anticipation for the morning light that dawned over the mountains and spilled into the nestled town before it reached the forest beyond. The cool mornings were always welcome to me, it is refreshing to see the dew upon the grass and witness the sun rising every morning. I am not the only one up this fine morning on my way to find work.

"Jinn! Wait up!" the cheerful call caused a smile to tug at my lips as I turned to face my friend, Odis Field.

He jogged up to my side and let out a huff, catching his breath, "You ought to wait for me. I will follow you, you know."

Odis had dirty blond hair hidden beneath a cap which he removed to ruffle his already frazzled hair. Like me, his face was caked in dirt and freckles. We both wore work clothes that always needed a good dusting. A shirt, an oversized jacket that belonged to our fathers, boots, and pants that were weighted heavily at the pockets. The jackets and pants each had numerous pockets to store tools and to hide away knick knacks. Although Odis acted irritated with me, I knew he would forgive me.

"I know, but you wake up too late, " his hazel eyes flashed in a scowl, those were common to see in this town so it hardly meant anything but his displeasure.

We walked silently along the dirt path towards the forest which marked the Hamilton residence. The Hamilton's were another well known family in Burnsley; they owned a successful logging company due to the dense forest that surrounded the town. About a quarter of the workforce in Burnsley, including the kids like Odis and myself, worked for the Hamilton's either as full time workers or part time as odd jobs to earn some extra money.

Odis as I had originally met while working under Allen Hamilton. The man had a large heart and gladly took us boys under his wing as his own. He was built burly like a man who had known hard labor all his life and wore clothes that looked just like our own, well worn and work worthy. He had kind, brown eyes that crinkled with an enticing glint whenever he laughed or smiled. His hair was a dark brown, like the bark of the trees he worked with, and streaked with the silver telltales of age. He wore his hair up in a short ponytail due to the balding of his head on top. A thick beard covered the lover half of his face and joined with an equally fine mustache. 

This man had taken in Odis and me around the same time. We were scrawny things, he dubbed us wild animals and invited us to eat with his men. Once he claimed that we were fit to work, he taught us many things before passing us to men willing to continue our training. We were welcomed anytime and found an easy companionship between us. We found that things worked best when I built things up and for him to tear them down. It's not that Odis is aggressive, he just didn't have the fine craftsmanship to build something and instead put his talent into skillfully dismantling things. As a team, we could accomplish a lot as kids our age.

Unfortunately, Mr. Hamilton's wife was quite a peevish woman. She was the polar opposite of Allen, her skin was ashen as if she never came out of the house where Allen's was healthy at least in appearance. Her eyes were sunk into her head as beady, black orbs surrounded by the dark quicksands for circles beneath the eye sockets. Her black hair streaked with an ugly grey was taught beneath a bun that pulled her face skin back to reveal pointed edges. Her name is Maria.

They say she was a beautiful woman in her youth, but no one can see that in her now. Many speculate that the death of their sweet daughter, Morgan, caused such a drastic change in the Missus. From the day of her funeral, Mrs. Hamilton was never seen wearing any color but black. Her temper had also shortened quite a bit, her tolerance for the local youth was like that of a dog who hates the thought of a cat and would go barking mad just to chase it down.

Their eldest son, Jason Hamilton, was a quiet fellow with the brown hair of his father. He chose to leave his father's company in favor of working in the mine. Though this would typically be looked down upon, Jason was respected by the town. Rumors say his mind is not all there, I beg to differ. He is simply not a man of many words.

Odis and I signed our names at the board to prove our hours before setting off to the yard to complete today's work. It was still too early for the saws to be running, so the air was clear of sawdust that was forever littered around the yard. There were neat stacks of wood near the road where a truck would pick up finished materials. The stacks contained several stages of processing and worked down the efficient line from the saws all the way to the sanding station towards the end.

The house was on the opposite side of the road and had the outward appearance of a luxury cottage with a robin egg blue paint job with white decorative shutters at each window. There was a porch with a set of rocking chairs and a white rail that went down a set of steps to reach a path that cut through beautiful landscape. On the "working" side, there is a simple log lean to for some shade and a few picnic tables for lunch.

We tossed our lunches into an iced cooler before we were called over by an authoritative voice, "Jinn! Odis! C'mere!"

I turned to meet the speaker to see the youngest son of the Hamilton's standing over a large stump at the back of the lot with his hands already covered in gloves and a shovel in hand. His long black hair was tied back, but a few strands were already loose and curling with the wind. He had light brown eyes that were jolly and full of warmth as he beckoned us over with a gloved hand.

"Freddy, good to see you up and movin' already, " I bared a grin in his direction as Odis and I walked over after grabbing shovels off the wall.

He returned his own stunning grin that squinted his eyes like that of his father, "No injury could keep me down for long. Now enough talk, get your butts over here and help me."

Fred turned back to inspecting the stump from above while awaiting Odis and I. He was another welcoming face to us, we had grown to be close friends during our working days here. Fred Hamilton officially became the heir to the Hamilton Logging Company after his brother lost interest in the trade and left to work elsewhere. Fred had always been working in the yard since he could walk, is what Allen always boasted. That man held much pride in his son. Fred knew enough of running the yard to do so without his father on site for supervision. He got along great with the men as his father had and was keen and witty in the trade. There was a private joke that Fred had a 6th sense when it came to his work. He had often come up with the safest ways to execute dangerous jobs and always arrived in time to intervene in a hazardous situation.

Though there's all this talk of his great skill and instinct in the yard, he had been in an accident that rendered him unable to work for quite some time. No one is quite sure how it happened. One moment they were working beneath his instruction dutifully and the next some men were being shoved from the scene where Fred took the brunt of the damage. Now he moved and acted fine as a fiddle.

I worked beside Odis and beneath Fred. We didn't need to speak to work in usion. Small gestures were ample enough for us to understand one another and to complete the job in a fashionable time. We had the stump fully excavated by the time the last worker signed in for his hours.