New Elizabeth really was beautiful in the summer. It gave even the not-so-well-designed-after-all (long story, that one, David thought, almost laughing aloud) houses a fresh, brand-new but at the same time old fashioned appearance. Not that anybody really had any way to define old fashioned any more, but still. There were photographs, the pictures themselves not up to current standards, though for some that only added to their feel. Stories, too; ancient, or at least by modern standards, writings and spoken tales of what life once was.
The flowers made it look pretty goddamned nice as well, even if they weren't to everybody's tastes. And it didn't matter what your opinion of them was when the sunshine illuminated them, bringing out every colour; the feeling that surrounded them, the same one that had prompted people to plant them in the first place, was undeniable.
Of course, somebody other than David Prentiss, standing here, looking out over his perfect little town, might have called it a little too perfect, the entirely peaceful atmosphere obscuring peoples' true feeling too much to last. A bleak outlook, perhaps, but if anybody were to have said this, they had an enviable gift for prognostications. Along with not so enviable brain power; nobody with either intelligence or sanity would have questioned Prentiss' dream.
But that was irrelevant, and, more importantly, not the thoughts of New Elizabeth's mayor. He was simply absorbing the beauty of the scene, wondering what would happen in the futures of his town and his son, whilst trying to block the roar of Noise that seemed to stand around him, trying to block any independent thought. It hurt, the Noise, and he often found himself wishing to God that it would stop, but that, David supposed, was the price you paid for living in a place like this. And Davy, he would grow up with it, be used to it by the time he reached adulthood.
Yes, Davy. Strange boy, that one. As much as he hated to think ill of his only child, he certainly wasn't normal. And, David thought, just as certainly and with significantly more pain, it wasn't the good kind of not normal. It was the kind that just made people look down on you, want to keep a distance, rather than the kind were people know your not the same, but you still deserve their respect, even more. The kind where they chase you out of town rather than treat you with a sort of wary reverence. He had all but accepted, even whilst Davy was still so young, that he was never going to shine. You could see it in his eyes and actions; hear it in his simple words and messy Noise. Strange, maybe, but certainly not special.
A small boy, only around six or seven, ran along just in front of David, leaving behind the remains of the flowers his feet had just killed. Todd Hewitt. His Noise told the town how he was so desperate to see the doggy, the one 'Miss In-taa' had brought home earlier that morning. Sure, there were many more puppies, seven just down the road, no different than the one the boy had just flung his arms around, but that was missing the point.
But despite the childishness of his Noise, there was something about it. It was clear, not the usual mess that young boys' Noise normally consisted of. He was somebody David could work with, he could polish until they shone like this New World should be shining right now. If anybody could make them, Todd and the world, it would be Mayor Prentiss.
"Sweet, ain't he?" said Steph Inya, the Miss In-taa who owned the puppy, drawing his attention away from Todd. David wasn't sure whether she meant it or Todd. "Elizabeth's son, I mean," she continued, answering David's unspoken question "The pup's for the kids. Angie's been askin' for one for ages. Runt o' the litter, goin' cheap, so I thought "I might as well."" She paused for a moment, as Todd left the dog. Her eyes followed it as it bounded towards them, tail wagging madly. "I ain't walking him, mind, and I sure as hell ain't cleanin' up after him."
David only took in a few of the words, enough to know they were negative. There was only one part of it that he took any real notice of. Sweet? It was hardly the word that he would have used. But then, was he expecting anything other than the most superficial of remarks from simple old Miss Inya?
David gave the best smile that he could. "I'm sure you'll warm to him," he told her, his voice heavy with false warmth, as he leaned forward to pet the young dog. Everyone knew Steph had something of a soft spot for anything with fur. Unless it was rats. They didn't deserve the dirt on her shoes, in Steph's own words. "What's his name?" David asked.
"Dunno," Steph said, swatting away a small fly. It was for show, probably; the fly was so small, it really wasn't worth the trouble. "Angie hasn't named him yet."
A voice came down the street. "David! I need you over here! It's an emergency!" He looked around to see Sarah. Davy's mother. The woman who so relied on him, though she'd never admit it. He flashed an apologetic smile at Steph, and turned to leave.
Walking away, he shook off the cold that Steph had brought to him, only to enter it again as he approached Sarah. The silence. It was heavy, like a force field surrounding every woman in the town. They didn't have to try, didn't have to conceal their thoughts like the men here did. They had it easy, just like they did in everything else.
Oh, and how that silence would get to him.
And once he had eliminated that, it would be the Noise that would drive him to insanity.
There's just no pleasing some people.
He had tried to stop his Noise from being heard, tried to find a way to stop the world from hearing his every thought. He didn't find one, not exactly. But he did find something else, and it was rather more interesting. He couldn't think about though, in detail, at least not around the townsfolk; his Noise was still very much audible, even if he was beginning to control it, make it less so. And his Noise was becoming neater, too, in addition to its natural clarity, the kind that showed his talent.
And he would continue watching young Todd Hewitt, the boy whose potential was obvious, even to a novice such as David.
"David!" Sarah's voice rung through his head, echoing around him in Noise form. He turned around, still partially trapped within his daze; he was somewhat surprised to see her livid face. "Get in here, now!"
He turned around, sighing to himself, wondering what could be done with his own boy. Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea, to leave Davy for a while see if he started showing any signs of Todd's talent: things could change, maybe he was starting low to go further. Despite knowing he was only trying to fool himself with false ideas, as he reached Sarah, he felt just a little better.
Author's note: Sorry for any mistakes or contradictions here. I hadn't read the books for a while when I wrote this.
