A tall slender man strolls down Broadbrook, a wide cobblestone street with tall stone archways and metal framed windows. Stone steps descend to a pub on his right below the city street. He grabs the brim of his tall hat and tips it to a pair of ladies leaning against the wrought iron lattice before the stairs. His slim cut burnt orange suit and midnight blue dress shoes shimmer in the lantern light. His plumes of teal ruffles burst up from his collar wrapping around his narrow chin. A dozen jeweled bracelets clink into one another as he lowers his arm back down.

His other fingerless gloved hand holds the pommel of his silver cane. The metal cane strikes the cobbles with each step with a clack. His blond curls jiggle with his exaggerated gait. His eyes glitter with exuberance.

As he strolls further down the street his head tilts to the sound of street performers playing drums and bells. A string instrument plucks a joyful melody. A group of onlookers clap and dance to the beat. The man can’t resist joining in. He begins to step his feet in time to the music adding a little more bounce to his step. He twirls his cane in the air, mysteriously producing a whistle that seems to go along with the guitar.

His long coat tails sail out from behind his knees as he spins. The ladies he had saluted hide rueful grins behind their hands. He leaps up from the ground and spins around a lantern pole then springs free with a flourish of his cane.

The music stops and he freezes a moment with just his toes on the ground. Some of the crowd has turned their attention from the musicians to the strange colorful man. The music surges back in and the man lets out a long beautiful note as he finishes landing on the ground. He sows in a wordless song among the bells and drums weaving around the guitar notes a foreign language of love and sorrow.

He gently lifts the chin of a young lady as he softly delivers his next line of sanguine gibberish. She blushes heavily under the serenade of his honey voice and he spins away from her and on toward a jolly round man. He drives a bony elbow into the man’s side as he raises his brows in a knowing manner. The man smiles and casts a glance back at his college.

The slender man in outrageous clothes continues his dancing walk down the street. His joy is infectious, and passersby can’t help but smile and nod in his direction. The man beams a smile and his teal ruffles bounce with each step.

His song stops suddenly and his dancing step freezes in place. A frail young man stands in the shadow before him. The young man has sorrow in his features and his shoulders are slung low. His brown eyes are cast down. Weeks of scruff shadow his gaunt jaw. He does not note the dancer, he stares into a puddle at his feet.

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The man in the top hat lifts his hand and his jewelry jingles. The scruffy young man does not notice. The man in orange belts out an exaggerated laugh and lurches forward to shake the gaunt man by the shoulders.

Dead brown eyes look up at the joyful man.

“Why the long look friend?” The man in orange mutters.

The mournful man steps back after a moment and darts a look both ways. He flinches and shrinks back. He steps back into the shadows to hide his bruises. Fresh blood flows down his lip to his chin. His clothes are filthy. He doesn’t appear to belong in Middletown.

The man in orange takes a meager step forward. “If you had strength like theirs would you also be a cruel man?”

The beaten man casts his brown eyes back down to the ground. He licks some blood from his lip and a tear streams down his cheek. “No.” His voice came out meekly, barely a whimper.

“Delightful.” The man in orange bursts out exuberantly. The beaten man jumps at the outburst. Resting his cane against his hip he reaches into the teal fluff around his neck and unclasped an ivory vial wrapped in gold from around his neck. The little carved vial dangles from a gold chain catching the lantern light.

The beaten man looks at the vial but doesn’t move. The vial sways and the gold veins around the ivory sparkle.

The man in orange gives a genuine broad smile and cups the vial with his other hand. Letting it rest in his white glove. “I came across this trinket when I was a man your age. The old man that gave it to me said it was a magical vial. He told me it catches the essence of the EverAm when you pray. He told me to wear it when I pray and drink the cool water from it when I needed to. It has blessed me for a generation.”

The beaten man strokes the blood from his chin with his sleeve and sniffs. “It is a beautiful trinket, sir.”

“You are from the Valley, aren’t you… I’m sorry you didn’t give me your name.” The man in orange clutches his hand around the trinket and reaches down to clutch the handle of his silver cane.

“Elias.” His name came out like a puff of smoke. Just barely audible with a hint of shame.

“You are a diamond Elias, you know that? I have just dangled a priceless trinket before your eyes and you did not so much as reach for it. I too grew up in the Valley. I ran among the same youth as you. I can’t think of one that would not have snatched the vial and vanished like a fart in the wind. That is how I know it is for you friend.” He dangled the trinket again. “You can have it.”

Elias looks up again with his eyes furrowed.

“It calls, don’t you see. It calls to the animal in a man.” His blue eyes dashed side to side as he looked into Elias’ eyes. “Yet you stand strong. Unaffected. Take it. It is yours now. My time is up yours has begun. Guard it carefully and those that it calls to you.” His blue eyes turn to the dark clouds filling up the horizon. The air grows lighter around them. He holds out the vial and Elias hesitates. Slowly he reaches up to take the gift from the strange man.