Midnight Contemplation

[Owen Thomas]

Amidst the crisp field grass and abandoned lumber, Owen admired the old farmhouse from a distance. From what was left, he could make out a distinctive rectangular shape and quietly he thought to himself what life might have been like at this farmhouse in the decades before all this mess and government intervention started. He imagined peaceful, but hard-working families probably inhabited these very grounds and something about that thought, made him think of his own upbringing.

For some reason, Owen felt completely at ease under the moonlight in the middle of nowhere, quite a ways out of town. This place had an air of honesty that seemed to have forsaken he town as soon as the troops rolled in to build our little cell of a city. Meditation was important to him as almost food and water was necessary. In the eight weeks that he had been here, this had been Owen's retreat every few days -- the only bit of routine that he had ever sustained in his entire life.

Life was peaceful, if not completely boring in the town, but just outside the main core, came the wilderness and forgotten buildings such as this, that seemed to make this place seem not all that bad. He had spoken to very few people since arriving here; many didn't seem too inclined to strike up casual conversation as they scrounged to put their lives back together. Owen decided to walk around the ruins for a while before returning to his modest cabin that he called a home.

[Sid Dager]

Armed with a Labatt Blue beer in one hand and a knife in the other, Sid slid through the trees in a manner that would look both ridiculous and strangely amusing to anyone watching. He was pretending to be a ninja and even confronting some trees with a yelp and a not-so-slick one foot kick.
“I’ve been here too long” he said to himself as he realised what he was doing. He spent most of his days cooked up in the pharmacy, so on his self-proclaimed day off he decided to explore the creepy farmhouse down in North West. Who knows, maybe he’d finally find a friend rather then just a bunch of new clients. Maybe not. Either way he had nothing better to do and after a few beers even the stupidest idea seems like a good one.
He continued walking, this time singing a tune, slightly out of key.

[Owen Thomas]

Completely startled out of his thoughts, Owen looked to the left of himself, to see a young man about his age make some awful manoeuvres that he could not distinguish. He raised his eyebrows in slight curiosity. This is the first interesting person in a while he thought to himself. Without much caution or thought, Owen called out in the darkness.

"Hey! Got an' more of those brewskies, mate?"

He walked closer to the odd man hoping for an answer. The strange figured looked rather drunk already and he hoped that he hadn't started him into a rage or even worst, a fit of giggles. Owen enjoyed a party once and a while, but since arriving here, the pickings had been slim and the opportunities even slimmer.

[Sid Dager]

“Holy mother of god you scared me! What are you doing crawling around a creepy barn-farmhouse-thing-a-magiggy at this time of night?” Sid asked, and then promptly added “guess you can ask me the same question.” He walked over to the new stranger waving his knife recklessly without realizing it. “ Beer…beer, do I have anymore beer…Ya somewhere, need to find my backpack first…got a flashlight?” he asked. If Sid was a bit more sober he would probably have introduced himself first but, he thought, when a fellow wanderer asks for a beer, who needs introductions?

[Owen Thomas]

"Well to answer your question, I've sort have claimed this area as my refuge over the past few weeks. It's peaceful, quiet, dark and mysterious all at the same time, but I have to say that it is nice to see a face out here once and a while; most people are afraid to go out here at night, which is a plus for me. "

Owen scanned the ground around his feet looking for the aforementioned backpack. He was very confident in his knowledge of every rock, fallen branch and rabbit hole in this area as his ability to remember extreme details allowed him to pinpoint the location of the bag almost immediately. He silently pointed it out to the unnamed man, hoping that he wouldn't have to be rude and search through the bag himself.

Calmly he strolled over to where the man was standing and stretched out his hand. "M' name is Owen Thomas. Normally I'm not this formal, but I feel that a name to a face is an important factor to becoming comfortable with new acquaintances. "

Owen grinned to himself for a moment as he realized how ridiculous he could sound even to himself. He mused about the fact that prolonged lack of human contact out in Winnipeg those long winters seemed to have a profound effect on his social skills.

[Sid Dager]

“Is it now? Owen, Owen…hmm doesn’t ring a bell” Sid mused, he felt quite confident that he knew most of the people his age within the town. Guess Owen must have slipped under his radar. He slid his knife into his back pocket. Hopefully he won't be needing it tonight. “You from around here?” Sid asked laughing briefly at his own joke. “The backpack is this really rugged yellowish-red thing with patches on it, I dropped it recently in an attempt to be more ninja-like during my travels. I figured I would retrieve it sometime in the wee hours of the morning” Sid explained while shoving his half empty beer bottle at Owen.
“Want some of mine to make the search go smoother?” he asked.

[Owen Thomas]

Owen had to grin once more as he accepted the half empty bottle of beer, and took a big swig enjoying the crisp feeling in the night air. This he missed dearly. Owen took a few steps around the area in which the still unnamed man was standing. Briskly walking into the thicker brush he hoped that the man would follow him in. He didn't here any immediate trailing sounds, so continued in alone to find the bag.

He found it partially tangled in a bramble bush a few feet off the path that he himself had made out to the barn. He snatched it up quickly and returned to the clearing. hoping to find his barn-visiting companion still there.

"Here you go -- Perhaps venturing out into the dark in, uh your state could be perilous so I took it upon myself. And to answer your question, I'm technically not from around here if you are referring to my existence outside of Q-town? I'm from Scotland, though I have been working about 200 miles north of here doing archaeological digs. As to my residence now, I live in the far west end just off of Stafford. I keep to myself mostly so you probably wouldn't have noticed me much."

Owen noticed that a name had still not been mentioned to his new acquaintance and figured it was due to the intoxication rather than purposeful lack of courtesy that caused this.

[Sid Dager]

Sid watched with his head cocked to the side as Owen walked into the bushes and came out with his backpack. He snatched it rather quickly and it jingled a bit as it swung. ‘Stuff, lot’s of stuff in my backpack, I don’t know if you like stuff so you won’t know what stuff I have until I know what stuff you like or don’t like.” He muttered to Owen. Digging through his abnormally shaped backpack, Sid found another beer bottle and handed it to Owen. “Scotland, eh? I was born in Australia, moved to Canada when I was ten and lived in Toronto ever since. I’ve been to Scotland once, back when I was fourteen, nice place, really nice people. Are you nice? I think you’ll be nice or at least cool.” Sid told his new friend, he usually didn’t reveal too much about himself unless someone asked but these were special circumstances.

Sid looked though his backpack again digging to the bottom and pulling out a rather large blanket. He spread it out on the ground and sat down on it, motioning to Owen to join him.

[Owen Thomas]

Owen was slightly amused by the blanket. Having spent several years living outdoors it never occurred to him to include slight comforts as a possibility to better living. Owen sat down calmly and opened his greatly appreciated bottle. He could get used to sitting on the dewy grass without getting wet in the ass, it was a great concept that never seemed to dawn on him previous to this.

"Australia is a great country, with a lot of history. A little too hot and dry for my liking, but the ocean is just magnificent in that area of the world." Owen thought for a moment about one of the man's drunken questions, What he nice? That was a very difficult question to answer for one simple reason: his civilized human interaction had been to a bare minimum most of his adult life. If he were to base it on something though, he would consider that he is nice to the earth, and respectful to things around him, and that he appreciated human companionship. After musing over this in his head, Owen decided that yes, yes he was a nice person of sorts.

Owen decided that he liked this guy but also found that not knowing his name posed a bit of a barrier to his beliefs on feeling comfortable around people. "Sorry, but what was your name?" Owen stretched out his legs as he sat on the blanket taking in his surroundings and listening to the breeze. "The Scots have never been particularly apt at memory work." Grinning, he took another sip of his beer.

[Sid Dager]

Sid couldn’t help but laugh at himself, how could he forget to mention his name? “I’m sorry, I’m rude, the name’s Sid, Sid Dagger, I’ve been in Q-town for the past six months and I run the pharmacy down in South East. I’m usually there if you feel like joining me” he told Owen, again a little too much. “I have cards, do you play?” Sid asked taking out his cards regardless.
“So you work anywhere or just live off of the earth?” Sid asked. It was a legitimate question. There was a garden up in North West where a lot of people planted vegetables, among other things, to consume rather then spending money at the grocery store.

[Owen Thomas]

"Ah, Sid Dagger tis a bloody great thing to know your name. And as to the cards, I'd be happy to play if I knew any games. Never really had much exposure to them with others so all I've ever had a need for is solitaire." Owen felt that he possibly should be embarrassed for this point. He felt that he was making himself seem like an outback reject who never learned the basics of modern day humanity. The sad part was, it was sort of true.

"I could live off the land if I needed to, but given the circumstances, its not really necessary with all your needs neatly laid out on shelves for you -- what's the point. I grow and cultivate what I need and can provide easily to myself, but mostly I live off of whatever is convenient. The mayor hired me to work and collect various things in the archives but thankfully most of my work is outdoors, and not in that ruddy vermin-infested place they allocate next to the library. "

Owen stared down at the cards thinking if he did know any games from his early childhood, but nothing seemed to resurface. "And I'm sorry about the cards, but you would really have to teach me."

[Sid Dager]

“The archives eh? Been there a couple of times, they keep getting new information about Q-towns history. I guess that’s where you come into play” Sid replied, thinking it’s a good thing to know where the information is coming from and to his delight Owen seemed like solid guy when it came to gathering up history.

Sid looked around. There were trees to their left behind a few bushes out of which he crawled and everywhere else there were just fields. Animals and insects skittered around in the night-time. This was their territory, but they were quite good with humans, as long as the humans stayed out of their way. It was dark out although the moon was gave enough light to make out a bit more then basic figures, definitely not enough light to play cards. He dove into his backpack once more and pulled out two small containers only big enough to hold a house mouse. They had tiny holes in the lid which opened upwards on little hinges and sported a very basic latch that partially locked the lid to the rest of the container. Both containers were empty and clear.

“You’ve never learned to play cards?” Sid asked, rhetorically. That seemed a bit odd. Owen gave Sid the impression that he was socially awkward in an I-barely-get-out-of-the-house sort of way. No matter we were all awkward in one way or another and if Sid didn’t scare him away after tonight the getting out of the house thing could easily be remedied.

“I’ll teach you” Sid stated. “But currently it is too dark to play, give me ten minutes, I’ll be back with some light” Sid told Owen while he jumped up and grabbed the two containers. He briefly contemplated taking his backpack but decided it would be too much of a hassle. Perhaps Owen wasn’t curious enough to go looking through it, perhaps he was. Either way he decided to take the chance.
With a quick wave, Sid had stolen away into the forested area. He returned twenty minutes later. In each box he had about seven fireflies. The new found light illuminated his face and clothing. He was currently bald with orange glasses resting atop his head. It was warm out but there was a cold breeze so he wore a silver jacket opened up to reveal a plain black shirt beneath it. His pants were bleach stained jeans with a dozen pockets and two dozen rips in them. To finish his uncanny attire he sported a pair of plain black converse with neon green laces.

“Okay, let’s play” he said like nothing happened “we have about twenty minutes before it becomes inhumane to keeps these fireflies locked up, so I hope you’re a fast learner” he added, took a sip of his beer and proceeded to explain the fine game of crazy eights.

[Owen Thomas]

Owen sat patiently waiting for the return of his new found acquaintance, and if there was something that Owen was particularly good at, it was waiting. Waiting for new information, for proposals, for co-workers, for reports, for dig permissions, for travel plans, for life to speed up in general -- it all was a wait. Therefore, in Owen's mind, hardy any time at all had passed by the arrival of Sid into the clearing.

Owen listened intently to the instructions that were being listed at him. It didn't seem all that hard and he felt confident in his abilities to finish at least the first round without too much hesitation. While they laboured through the game, Owen finished his beer and placed the bottle next to Sid's backpack.

"So this pharmacy that you run, is it enjoyable? No offence, but when I think of lab coats, white walls and measuring spoons, it all sounds like torture in a prison."

[Sid Dager]

“Naw mate, the pharmacy is a lot of fun to work at. During the day you get to meet and talk to quite a few folk from town and at night it’s a total party. Plus I get medical shipments from the outside. Within the medical shipments I also receive a lot of shipments that aren’t supposed to be brought into Q-town so you get to meet some interesting people and get to know their hobbies” Sid revealed.
“Are you sure you’ve never played before? You’re quite good at it” Sid mentioned. They were halfway through their game of crazy eight’s countdown and Sid was getting creamed by a noob.
“You should come by and hangout sometime at the pharmacy, I’m usually just stocking shelves after ten pm” Sid added. The fireflies were beginning to get restless.

[Owen Thomas]

"Perhaps I will. The archives aren't all that bad either. I've been trying to clean them up as much as possible, and soon it will contain anything that I can get my hands on, about this place, and if I can do it, discover a way out."
Owen sat for a moment thinking about what he had just said. Before now, he had not let on to anyone as to the reason why he headed straight into the archival career once in Fort Lethbridge. He found that he could trust this oddly dressed Sid Dager, and he couldn't really pin point why. The truth was, he just seemed like an honest guy bent on the deviant side of life, just as much as Owen was himself.

Owen looked away for a moment in contemplation, and decided that it was alright to continue on discussing his plans even though he felt that the possibility was there that Sid could turn him in, or worst think he was just down right crazy. "I've found that looking at the original Fort building plans offers a window into the possibilities we might have. Water systems were built and filtration was established, but if you notice, we lack a main water supply big enough to support us all. This is where the original structure plans come into play."

Owen was getting too worked up -- he couldn't sit still and play cards any more. He stood up abruptly, realised what he was doing and sat back down with a thump. "Look I realise that it sounds crazy that I want to leave this place, but to be honest, I'm sick of the walls. Already. I've only been here for four weeks, and I already loathe the fact that I'm stuck here. I've heard what everyone's saying in here. That everything is better, that things are more simple, that they can live without taxes because its taxes that are being paid to keep us here."

Owen got back up again. He walked over to the barn's remaining foundation stones, and stood on top of them and began to walk the perimeter. "I'm going to find out what is being hid from us, and I'm going to find out how to get out -- before they realise that they don't want to pay money to have us here. We are expendable."