Chapter 1 - Drew Baltimore

A boy merely a handful of years of age meandered down a scenic cobbled path, jovial carefree whistling fluttered from the lads lips to be gently lifted by a light breeze that carried his melodies towards the clouds. On either side of the spacious path ran channels that harboured beautiful crystal waters which glistened and refracted the glowing evening rays, turning the translucent waters a simmering crimson. Either side of the glistening channels rolling hills of golden barley and wheat gratefully felt their mother suns last warm embrace before they bedded down for the dark night.

Amidst one such wheat field a lone man strolled. His hands ran through the crops in a seemingly casual and easy manner, fingers tracing the ripe heads of the plants. Sun stained and strong his hands danced across the tops of the field gently, seemingly caressing every stalk his hands graced. Despite the apparent unconcerned nature in which the mans hands flickered and danced his bushy eyebrows were creased slightly as if in contemplation.

A light breeze brushed past the man and gently rustled the wheat heads as if trying to imitate the mans tender touch. Upon the same breeze was carried a faint melody that was imbued with youth and sung of freedom and energy. Like a lark soaring high the melody travelled far before eventually coming to snugly roost in the mans ears.

The ponderous crease between the mans brows melted.

Turning to the north he peacefully gazed over the top of the golden wheat field to the cobblestone path and crimson irrigation channels.

After a moment his roaming gaze alighted upon the source of the soaring free tune. There in the distance encroaching nearer meandered the boy. As blissful as ever basking in the last of the light, whistling whilst enjoying the iridescent colours all about him that only a falling sun can quite produce.

As if the mans gaze was corporal the boy turned and caught sight of the lone man amidst the golden fields. The half set sun perfectly framed the mans figure, he cast a proud upright silhouette that cut through the heart of the dying sun. Like a flower blossoming a smile that preached purity and innocence spread across the young lads face.

He'd found his dad.

A tender youthful hand flew up into the skies longing to know whether or not his tiny frame had been spotted by the distant silhouette.

A breath passed.

The figure framed in the evening sun whom stood waist deep in what seemed to be a shimmering ocean of golden red paused for a moment. Then slowly extended a strong fist high into the sky.

A gleeful chuckle bubbled up from the boys belly as his small legs burst into motion, dashing off the rugged cobblestone, hopping the tiny crimson tributaries and into the vast fields. The crown of his head barely crested the mass of crop that quickly circled him as he charged ahead, occasionally pausing to regain his misplaced bearings.

Strong healthy stalks of golden wheat that had bedded down for the night were jolted awake by the boisterous boys passing as he rushed towards the silhouette in the sun. Trails of irritated crop waving to and fro were left in the wake of his journey but the motion was only momentary, after he'd passed the field quickly quietened and tranquility and stillness came once again to blanket the fields.

The father to walked towards the youth. As he cut a trail through the crop he tenderly gazed at the encroaching child's features. His child's features.

Cropped dark chestnut stubble covered the boys helm, strikingly similar in both pigment and style to his fathers. The dying light weakly cast upon the youths cheeks, cheeks that maintained the elasticity and tenderness of youth. Should one day the fat melt away from his face perhaps his cheek bones would protrude angularly giving him a stark sharp air. A very similar air hung about his father.

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However running along the mans jaw was a delicateness that came to crown atop a soft chin. The boys jaw was already harder leading to a chin that boldly struck out slightly. The lads bushy brows sat atop a pair of joyously creased eyes that when opened would whisper of bravery and intrepidness, whilst sparkling a brown so light that it reminded one of the beautiful fields the pair currently moved amongst

After a handful of minutes the two finally closed in on one another within the sea of crimson gold. The lads twinkling eyes however paid no heed to natures splendour. Instead they were adoringly fixated upwards on the towering figure before him. A smile that exposed both teeth and love ran the boys face as he halted his steps. The man to came to a stop.

Then with nothing but warmth and love glistening in his eyes the man reached his strong calloused hands forward and gently spread his hand on the crown of the youths small head. With a slight hint of mirth hiding at the corners of his mouth he roughly rustled the lads cropped hair. With a giggle and a squirm the boy ducked out of his dad's reach before turning back, beaming at him.

The father laughed. It was laughter that was as free and light as the clouds and birds that floated and flew. He grinned down at his giggling son and gently said

"Drew"

"Dad" the boy replied equally with warmth and adoration. The light of dusk filtered down onto the golden crops that stood between the two, framing a tender moment.

With a wide smile Drew spoke "The wheat looks good this year dad" saying so he reached out and roughly grasping a stalks head, bending it downwards to try and better inspect the produce.

With a slight smile the father squatted down beside his son, gently reaching out and brushing his hand over the crop alongside the wheat his son was manhandling.

"Your quite right Drew, this is easily the largest crop we've had in the last few years." Turning to his son he queried "do you think it's time to begin the harvest?"

Facing his fathers question Drew's brows creased in contemplation, his fingers prying apart the wheat heads casing to peer at the seed hidden inside. After a moment he let go of the wheat and definitively shook his tiny head. "No not yet dad, the wheat heads are still wet, look" saying so the boy raised his forefinger up to his father upon which a droplet of moisture could be seen.

A portion of pride and praise flashed past the mans eyes as he gazed at his son before turning to continue observing the crop before him. "Hmm yes there is still moisture in the plants isn't there. If we were to harvest such a wet crop in these humid conditions I doubt the grain would last even a week before rot took a hold."

Slowly nodding his head the boy seemed like a old sage agreeing with a lesser intellects answer. Noticing his sons obvious facade of wisdom and knowledge the father chuckled inwardly and continued "However the wheat was at its prime just a few days past, if we hesitate to harvest any longer the entire crop will wilt. Truly a worry, you wouldn't have any ideas for me would you?"

Drew's head that had been sagely bobbing up and down the entire time froze mid bob as he realised he was expected to input on a problem that had stumped his father. His father whom stood head and shoulders above everyone when it came to his farming expertise.

Once again a crease between the boys brows appeared. Stillness reigned between the pair stranded in a strikingly golden red field. One stood and ruminated whilst the other squatted and tried to appear serious.

After but a moment inspiration lit the boys face "There's a load of dead wood in the White Grove,maybe we could light bonfires and position giant fans behind them so the hot air is blown over the fields!" His face was full of excitement as he wildly articulated his idea to his dad, tender hands flailing animatedly desperately trying to mimic a fans actions.

Befuddlement was stark on the fathers face for a second before it was washed away by mirth and amusement. Chuckling he replied "Fans blowing fire over fields?"

The boy vigorously nodded in conformation to the summary of his idea.

The father chuckled and queried again "Fire and wheat?"

Thoughtfulness coated the boys face as he pondered on his fathers repeated question and his own suggestion for a moment "Oh." Like a deflating ballon Drew's enthusiasm leaked away as he saw the large fiery flaw in his genius.

Laughter that was filled with mirth and adoration burst from the fathers lungs and rose to the crimson evening skies. Whilst laughing he smoothly rose up from his haunches and swept his son up in a single effortless motion, placing him up high on his shoulders fetching a giggle from the dejected lad. Then without pause the man set off striding through the great expanse of field towards the cobblestone path. "It's getting darker earlier these days son, we'd best be home to your mother"

Silence met him. Drew was far to enamoured by the view from such heights to formulate a reply. His glittering eyes scanned across a never ending sea of wheat that the colourful dusk had transformed into a ocean of gold tinged red.

After a few minutes dialogue reopened.

"Dad"

"Yes son"

"Underground heating?"