The summer breeze travelled lazily through the trees. Birds chirped and the world seemed to glow. Everything was so vibrant, the leaves were the deepest shade of emerald and the grass was tall and soft, falling over itself, swaying gently like the branches of the willow tree. Butterflies fluttered from one flower to another at the woods' fringe and around the slow-moving river that weaved past the vegetation. Small silver fish darted through the clear water along side fat tadpoles. They grouped in schools, clustered close nervously, moving more towards the edge to hide in the roots of the plants growing overhead on the shore. The water seemed to calm, a lone tadpole ventured out, wriggling through the water, the long worm-like tail propelling it forward. All appeared normal.
A sudden loud splash.
"I caught one!"
"Whoa, really? Lemme see Eliza!"
Two children stood in the shallow waters, the one holding the panicking tadpole as it thrashed around had fallow hair that fell just past the shoulders, pulled back in a low-seated ponytail. Bright green eyes shining as she grinned, holding her hands out to show her enthusiastic companion. "I wanna hold it!" the boy shouted, holding pale hands out to pass off the baby frog. The breeze sighed by once more, tugging at his white hair as it did so.
"No way, I caught this one, go find your own if you want one," Eliza smirked smugly, pulling the pollywog back towards her body.
His cheeks puffed angrily, "I said I jus' wanna hold it Eliza!" Lunging at the other child, grappling for her hands, the two wrestled for dominance in the river, the turmoil kicking up waves in the normally calm waters. He pulled at her fingers, which she fought to keep closed around the fish. Trying to make a distance between them, Eliza started retreating, only to have Gilbert rush after her, only a little too rough.
"Stop it, Gil!" It was too late, the two fell over in the water; and the tadpole, taking note of its chance to escape, seized it and bolted into the roots at the water's edge.
Scrambling upright, the two gasped for air, their clothes and hair drenched thoroughly in cold water. Eliza glared daggers at her friend, "Look! It got away because of you!"
"If you had just given it to me, then it never would have gotten away!" the albino shot back.
Glaring at each other a moment longer, they relaxed, picking themselves up and crawling back onto land, laughing softly, "Don't think I'll forget about this Gilbo," she warned him, sitting in the grass where their shoes and socks were left against a tree, along with their backpacks, "You owe me another pollywog!"
"It was just a stupid tadpole, you can catch another one," he grumbled, peeling off his T-shirt. It was his new one too, and his mother was not going to be happy about it. He actually liked the design as well, a white body with black capped sleeves. At least this time he didn't go in with his sneakers on. His feet stank for weeks afterwards.
He hung the clothing up on a tree branch, his friend following suit, being only four neither took much note of the other's nude body as they changed into their spare clothing. "Yeah, well, it took a long time to catch that one," she sniffed, pulling on her bright green tank top and another pair of jean shorts before plopping back down on the grass, pulling her hair out of the pony tail to wring it dry.
Out of his red back pack, Gilbert pulled out a towel his mother had forced him to take with him and quickly rubbed it over his damp hair to dry it out quicker before passing it along. Now dressed in a black T-shirt and khaki shorts, he ignored her and looked out over the town. From atop the plateau, he could look into the valley below and watch as everyone else went about their lives, oblivious to his eyes. Sitting beside her, they forgot about the argument over the fish and sat content at watching their home down below.
"I see Mr. Tino and Mr. Sve," Eliza chirped, pointing down to Market Street as the two worked in their bakery. The small blonde Finnish man waved as a customer left while his partner restocked the front window with everything from fruit-filled bread to cakes and pies, all hand-made.
"I see Feliciano and Lovino down in the park," Gilbert grinned, watching older Vargas brother playing in the sandbox with another child while the other was being pushed on the swing by their father. "I think that's Antonio with Lovi."
Eliza suddenly jumped to her feet, "And there's Alfred and Matthew! Come on, they have their football!" Stuffing their half-dry clothing into their bags, not caring for the wrinkles, or the smell for that matter, they waded across the river to the other side before running barefoot down the hill back into the town.
Peacewood Grove was a quiet town, two hours out from the nearest city, and a very tight-knit community. Only seven miles wide, and everyone living close together in one neighbourhood, no one saw the need to own cars, preferring to ride their bikes or walk, which added to the cleanliness of the air and ensured the safety of the children that roamed the streets. Boasting a population of just a little over two hundred occupants, the majority being elderly or young ones, the small country town was not even a crumb on the map, and often entirely overlooked. On Grace Avenue, all the way down the road, was the only church; entirely white with high glass windows and a tall steeple, it rang every Sunday, bidding all to come to prayer. Connected to it was the cemetery, and in the far back was the old willow tree with it's bleach-white trunk as it stooped over pitifully.
More towards the centre of the town were the Elderly Homes, and across the street was the park with it's many slides and swings, along with other toys, that attracted children from all over to come and play, not to mention the wide field free of trees and hills to play games like tag or football. Then there was Market Street, where all the shops and diners were located, including the only Pub owned by the Kirklands. There was no such thing as a department store, and every shop was privately owned by some family or another. Finally, just a fifteen minute walk away, was the school, hosting classes through every grade. It was a small, slow-going town, with few and easy-going people, and to many it was the entire world.