Hollridge, Nova Scotia: The town looked almost generic, as if every other Podunk small-time fictional town had been based on this one. Buildings that looked like they'd been built 30 to 40 years ago lined up alongst greyed out and cracked roads that looked like they'd been built 60 to 70 years ago. It was the kind of town you'd see shot in a movie or as described in a book. He had consumed so much of both that the simple act of driving down this town's streets—on a Sunday's afternoon, no less—made the entire experience feel surreal. He knew at once he liked this town, even on a merely aesthetic level. A cloudless blue sky was above him.

He drove towards the edge of town, alongside the coast, and found a thick forest of mixed trees form between the road and the beaches as the road tapered farther and farther inland. He was looking for a path leading into the woods, and apparently up a tall hill.

After a short while he saw the forest begin to rise, a slow incline at first that later became a large hill that blocked the entirety of the beach from view. he found the path; it broke off from the main road and into where the woods were deepest, so thickly packed you could hardly see the ground the trees were rooted into. It immediately became darker as he drove in, as the trees grew so tall they blocked out the sunlight. Non-conifers even leaned over the road, forming a canopy. He almost wondered whether or not it'd be worth turning on his headlights.

He soon reached the top of the hill. Still, his surroundings remained as they were, shaded and forest-y. There was just enough space for him to park his truck atop the hill itself. He parked beside the stone-brick wall that enclosed the perimeter. Its top lined up almost-perfectly with his truck's roof.

An iron-wrought black fence made the wall's upper half; each post alternating in height but tipped with a diamond-shaped spear head. The metal itself looked rusted, heavily rusted. The grey unpainted bricks making the lower half had small plants growing in and out of the cracks in their cement. There were even vines and wiry ferns that grew up to grasp at the metal spokes of the fence. He looked just to his left and saw the large metal gates that would lead into the property, made in the same style as the fence, but decorated with filigree in the form of metal vines curling over the bars. Real vines were curling over the bars as well. Before he could reach the gates however, a tall man with long blonde hair walked out. They made eye contact.

"How was the trip, Lyle?" The tall man asked with a yawn, closing the gate behind him. A loud creaking following the whole way.

"Three and a half days in a car, you tell me, man." Lyle replied with a yawn of his own. He tried stretching out his legs, but they only seemed to hurt more as he walked around. "Alright," Lyle said, eventually. "This is the house, Ron?" Lyle asked. Unless you knew him you'd think he was asking sarcastically: His eyes were partially closed, his expression was always blank, and he never removed his low-pitched voice from a solid-wall-sounding monotone.

In truth, that was just how Lyle behaved. He was the kind of person who you could only read from his eyes. There was a spark there, a twinkle in his pupils that you'd only notice if you were looking for it. Ron was one of the people who knew to look, and he could tell Lyle was on the edge of his seat.

"Well, yeah." Ron said, moving his hair from out of his eyes. "It's… pretty old, you can see, but I think you'll like you'll find." He walked back to the metal gates and opened them again. "Come on in."

Lyle followed him and they both stepped through the gate, into the front yard. Lyle looked around the ground first: Overgrown with plant life and overshadowed by the trees surrounding them. Lyle looked upwards towards the main attraction.

Shearbridge Grove, a large two-storey Victorian-styled affair with dark-blue panelled walls and darker-blue-almost-black tiled rooves. There was a porch coming out from the left side, a dark brown wood that Lyle didn't recognize. The same wood also made up the borders around the grimed windows that numbered the side facing them. Vines and leaves actually rose up from the ground so high as to wrap around the house's walls, some even bordering around the dirty windows. As his eyes rose Lyle's sight locked onto a tower.

A tower that rose one storey higher than the rest of the house, growing out from the left-corner and rising just above the trees. You'd expect it to sit out like a sore thumb but it's design melded with the house itself so well that it would at first seem like nothing out of the ordinary. There were creepers wrapped around the tower itself, a pack of leaves even wrapped around one of the pillars at the open top of the tower like a vineyard. Idyllic.

The mood was quiet, dark, and cool. Lyle was taken aback at first, he felt as if he had walked into a painting. What he stood in front of was what you'd expect rambunctious siblings to move into when their parents were overseas. What a teenage girl or desperate man'd break into to escape a violent storm. It looked fictional. Like if he turned around he'd find himself staring at fellow movie-goers at a theater. At that moment Lyle'd fallen in love with the house, even though he hadn't moved an inch.

"See?" Ron asked, pulling Lyle out from his fantasy. "You're getting it." He grinned.

"You can tell?" Asked Lyle, recovering as quickly as he could.

"No, I can't tell." Ron said. "But I can guess, since I know you."

Lyle didn't reply to this. "Show me around."

Ron grinned again and took a few steps forward. "Follow me."

Lyle followed him onto the porch. Along the short distance he continued to look around. The way the trees lined up just outside the property's walls, the density of them. He wondered if they surrounded the house from allsides.

His focus was then brought to the porch when he first heard his footsteps on the stairs. A loud creaking from the dark wooden panels.

"Age." Ron said, referring to the noise. "Though you'd be surprised how little the actual interior of the house's been affected by it. Unfortunately, though, there's no way for us to replace the porch."

"Why's that?"

Ron motioned upwards towards the porch's roof. "Half of this roof is being used to support the second floor. And those supports just so happen to be…" He motioned to a wooden pillar just behind Lyle.

Lyle looked at it, it was covered with fine carvings of trees, birds and vines. He looked closer at the railings to which the pillar was connected. They were also illustrated. Lyle looked up at the insides of the roof above them, the wood borders were decorated in the exact same way. Wooden leaves with wooden birds flying around them.

Lyle took his hands out from his pockets and onto the railing of the porch. "These pillars are those supports?" He asked without looking.

"Yeah." Ron said. Lyle could hear him scratching his hair. "That's pretty much the only thing we can't change about this house, really." He continued. "Not that you'd want to once I show you the rest of it."

"Alright." Lyle said. "Show me the rest of it."

Ron laughed a little. "Come on." He opened the house's front door and walked inside, leaving it open.

Lyle followed suit, but closed the door behind him. The door itself, he noted, was of a similar wood to the porch, and carved into its center was the scene of a house on a prairie. It didn't seem to match with any of Hollridge's maritime surroundings.

Lyle entered the main foyer of the house, it was fairly large, and the ceiling was rather high up. However, this only served to amplify how dusty and clogged everything looked: A thick sheet of dirt carpeted the floor, leaving visible footprints wherever Ron and Lyle walked. Lyle could tell this place hadn't been cleaned in years.

A pair of entranceways to his right, they appeared to lead into the same room.

"Like I said," Ron said. "Most of this place only needs to be cleaned, things like the paint and hydro are getting redone."

"Did you say that?" Lyle asked.

"I did." Ron said, he then pointed towards one of the entranceways Lyle had noticed. "In here is the living room." They both walked in.

The living room was large. Very large. Lyle first noticed that directly across from the entranceway he walked in through, was another entranceway leading out. The same was true for the opening he did not take. It seemed the foyer or hallway actually wrapped around this living room. Lyle looked around.

The floor was the same as was in the foyer, as well as the walls, which he was able to see more clearly here: A very light blue grey. Lyle looked to the floor and wiped some dust off the ground with his shoe. The floor's tiles were a smooth light brown; he couldn't identify this wood, either. Lyle looked around to the now dead-beat furniture that lay in the centre of the room. Whatever semblance of colour there was—was all but gone: It all looked like a dark grey. The frames that held the various cushions and couches looked like they'd seen better days. A small table in the center. Lyle nudged it a little with his knee, it held fast, unsurprisingly.

"All this furniture is going out, of course." Ron said. "If you want, I can call you out for buying a new set."

"New set…" Lyle was running the idea through his head. He was looking more closely at the rundown couches and chairs. They seemed to have been a deep green before. "Can't we just get more of these?"

"Well, I doubt they're selling this exact furniture after 80 years. If you want, we can just look for things that would be similar to them."

"We can't just order replicas?"

"Lyle, do you have any idea how expensive ordering custom replicas would be?"

"No." He said. "How much would it be?"

Ron thought for a few moments before speaking. "…maybe 10 or 11 thousand?"

"Hm…" Lyle said, he opened his mouth to speak but then closed it again.

"…What?" Ron asked.

"What if we replaced all the furniture?" He said. "All of it with replicas."

Ron gave a deep sigh. "Man, if you can go that far, it could reach the 600 or 700 thousands."

"Alright." Lyle acknowledged, plainly. He didn't intend to, but he ended up making it sound like he had agreed to the cost. He said everything plainly.

Ron just looked at Lyle, blank-faced. It looked for a moment he was going to say something, but he stopped. "Alright." He repeated.

Lyle looked through the entranceway still in front of him. "What's next, Ron?"

Ron got back on track and lead him out of the living room. Lyle saw two doors at his right and left. Further to his right He actually found the end of the hall itself, with a small window pointing out towards the yard. Perhaps the living room was even bigger than it looked.

"Here..." Ron opened the door to their left, closer to the window. "Is the kitchen." He opened it an let Lyle walk inside.

It wasn't much smaller than Lyle had guessed. To their direct left was a door. Opposite from that: To the right and in the very other corner of the room was another door, with a small window nearby. There was of course a sink, cabinets, and even an old black metal oven. Lyle walked over to it and slid his finger over the edge. His finger became pitch black in tar and ash.

"You don't gotta worry about this oven here, Lyle." Ron said with a grin. "There's a specialty going on, and I can get you a brand new gasoline stove for free."

"Free?"

"And in three colours; blue, green, or black." Ron walked over to the door farthest away from the kitchen's entrance. "This is the main store-room, but there's no electricity and there aren't any windows so you won't be able to see much right now." He opened the door for Lyle to look inside.

He was indeed, unable to see much. Lyle looked down and saw there was a set of stone steps that led slightly down into the store-room itself. "Are there supposed to be lights in here?"

"Yeah," Ron said. "But there's no electricity in this place right now." Ron said, he then pointed towards the very center of the pitch-black storeroom. "At the very back, actually, is where the breaker box is."

"They had breaker boxes back then?"

"Well, no, they were these large fuse panels. But when we renovate we're also going to upgrade it to a breaker box."

"Huh." Lyle stood there for a few moments, he was thinking. "I'm going to need a water heater, won't I?"

"Yeah," Ron replied, he pointed to the stone steps at their feet. "You can see, though, that this place is taller than it looks, we plan on fitting the water heater at the very back, where there aren't any shelves."

"Can you fit a washing machine and dryer, too?"

"Hm?"

"A washing machine and dryer." Lyle repeated. "I don't want to drive to the laundromat all the time."

"Uh…" Ron seemed to have to think for a few moments. "Yeah, I'm sure they'll fit fine, we might have to remove a small portion of the shelving, though."

"That's fine." Lyle said.

Lyle shut the door to the storeroom and looked to the door that was closer to the kitchen's entrance. "What's through there?"

"Come and find out." Ron said.

They went through the door and the first thing Lyle noticed was another door directly to their left.

"This door from the kitchen and the door we had passed in the hall," Ron pointed to them both. "both lead into this dining room."

The dining room was actually quite large, though nowhere near in size to the living room. Lyle saw a large window pointing out towards the sea. Just in front of that was an enormous mahogany dining table with 10 matching chairs stacked on it. Lyle walked up to them and thought the were in alright condition.

"You can actually keep the table and chairs if you want." Said Ron. "They were bought for the house just before it was abandoned and they're pretty resistant to age."

"Just before it was abandoned?" Lyle asked, looking at the dining set.

"I can tell you the house's story later. But, yeah, this house was abandoned a long while ago. The furniture from the living room and kitchen were present when it was first built… around… 120 years ago, while this dining set." Ron patted the table with his hand. "Only about 80 years old. Like an antique from your grandparents."

Lyle looked closer at the table. He noticed that underneath there were decorative carvings: filigree depicting vines and birds, just like that of the porch. He looked at the underside of the chairs and saw the same pattern.

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"The design of this place sure is extensive." He said.

"Just like you, eh?" Ron said, he laughed to himself. "Come on, we've still got the second floor to see."

"Just a second." Lyle walked around the table and tried to look out the window. The wall from the front yard was not present, and Lyle saw that Shearbridge Grove was built atop a sheer cliff that dropped down into the sandy shores before the Atlantic Ocean. He tried to see more, but the glass was so dirty it seemed like he was staring through a thin sheet of paper.

"Don't worry about that." Ron said. "I've got just the thing upstairs."

"What?" Lyle said before immediately coming to a guess as to what he was talking about.

"Come on." He took Lyle out of the dining room and through the door that lead directly into the main hallway. They took a right and then turned a corner where Lyle was able to see a door at the very end of the hall. "That leads upstairs." Ron said before they both walked down the hallway and opened it.

The stairway leading upwards was totally closed off from the rest of the house, there weren't even any windows. Once they reached the top they were met with an immediate wall in front of them. They had to turn two corners, leading them in the opposite direction and then take a right before they were faced with the major part of the second floor's hallways.

"What the hell kind of layout…?"

"This place is old." Ron said. "They probably had different building conventions."

"Yeah, sure."

Ron didn't say anything else. Lyle looked around the hallway and found that it carried the exact same colours as the hallway from the first floor. Lyle counted seven doors: three were to his left and spaced unevenly, three were to his right and spaced uniformly.

"I'll show you the master's." Ron opened the closest door to the left and lead Lyle into a large room with dark green walls. The floor became a dark brown just like the mahogany of the porch. There were two large windows in front of them, both pointing out towards the ocean. To his right Lyle saw a now dead-beat king-sized bed. With more dark wood framing and dark green covers. Lyle suspected the furniture in this room to have been paired with the furniture in the living room.

There were other, less notable pieces of furniture in the master bedroom: A large dresser and armoire, both dark-wood. As well as a long chest that sat just at the end of the bed, yet again, that dark brown wood.

"Lot of imported furniture, huh?"

"Yeah," Said Ron. "But since these were present when the house was first built, my guess is that they were brought with the family that first moved in."

"Was it a family of English aristocrats or something?"

"Probably something." Ron chuckled a little bit. "All's left to show you are the bathroom and the guest bedrooms."

They both exited the master's and Ron opened the middle door of the hallway's left. It was only a short distance away from the master's entrance.

The room was pristinely white, or at least, Lyle could tell it was supposed to be. The tiles on the floor were brown with dirt, as was the paint on the walls. There was one rather large window just across from the entrance. At first Lyle was perturbed, but he noticed that the toilet and bath were off to the side. Including the position of the house itself, privacy seemed to be a non-issue. Lyle actually noticed the edges of some vines that had grown around the window's frame outside.

Ron, surprisingly, had nothing to say about the bathroom. So he lead Lyle out and showed him to the first guest bedroom, the door just across from the master's entrance.

The room was decently sized. There was a window across from the entrance that pointed out towards that town of Hollridge, with a number of vines stretched across the view. The room's walls were a deep oceanic blue, similar to that of the hallways' but far more saturated. Lyle could just feel the difference between this room's atmosphere and the master's. Though, he couldn't say he disliked the feeling at all.

Lyle looked around the guest bedroom once more. There was a bed, a desk, and a large dresser. All of which were made out of more mahogany. Stepping into the master's bedroom was like stepping into the lap of luxury, like a room within a castle. The guest bedroom felt a bit quainter, more reasonable, certainly.

"You'll find two guest bedrooms." Ron said, taking Lyle out of his deep thought. "And they're identical

"Really?"

"Well, the bedsheets are of different colours." Lyle explained. "The last door was a servant's room that would have a small bed, it's empty right now, though."

Lyle looked at the guest bedroom's bed, the sheets were old and worn, but he could tell they were supposed to be a light green. It was at this time also that Lyle noticed again just how much dust there was everywhere. Had he gotten used to the sight so quickly as to not notice it in the hallways and master's bedroom?

"My impressions are muddled." Lyle commented.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"This place is so old and filthy."

"Won't be once you buy it!" Said Ron. "I already told you, most of these things only need to be cleaned. It'll be as spotless as the day it was built."

"I'll keep you to it, then." Said Lyle, glumly, he stepped out first from the guest bedroom. "Now, show me the tower."

"I know you'll like this."

Ron lead them Lyle to the very end of the hall. The final door stood exactly the same as the others did, coated with dust. Lyle glanced at Ron who just grinned at him, he opened the door and stepped inside.

There were bookshelves at Lyle's sides, dark-wooded and tall bookshelves. The room itself was circular, with the outermost shelves themselves shaped perfectly to line up with the walls, and the innermost shelves shaped to form a miniature hallway that curled around.

"What kind of design is this?" Lyle said, walking down the curved hallway of shelves. There were small gaps between each outermost shelf where tiny windows pointed out towards the ocean. They were far too clogged to look out through. At the end of this 'hallway' Lyle found what the shelves had hidden from him before: A circular staircase that rose up and out of the room, allowing sunlight to shine down the steps. As if on cue, a breeze began to blow through the room from the outside.

"Ah."

The silence hung for a few moments. Before being suddenly broken when Ron spoke up.

"You'll have time for that later," He said. "At least see what's up there, first!"

Lyle, without saying anything, walked up the staircase and onto the tower's top. The breeze that flowed through and the sunlight that shined outside the roofed tower.

The space itself was large—the full size of the library-room without being stuffed by bookshelves. Lyle walked up towards the view of the village and rested his hand on the yet-again dark-wooded fence. He tested its strength and the wood held fast. It seemed to match the design of the house's porch, down to the shape of the posts that held the fence and the thick pillars that held up the tower's wooden roof.

Lyle looked down upon the town of Hollridge, small multi-coloured buildings stretched on and on before the ocean's coast. The sky was dotted with clouds, but Lyle was so high up he could see thicker patches in the distance. In a few hours it might begin to rain.

Lyle turned around and walked to the other side of the balcony. It pointed out towards the ocean, and Lyle saw clouds line up alongst the coast in streaks. He looked straight down from the tower and saw the sheer drop that the house itself sat upon. The sight almost made him nauseous. He followed the heightened land as it stretched to his right and formed a promontory, cutting the beaches in half, large grey rocks littered the water. He realized then that the shore in front of his house was much more like a cove or a small private bay. He wondered from atop the tower how it would be like to go swimming in the ocean whilst it rained.

He looked around some more and noticed somewhat far-off was in fact a lighthouse. A tall grey spire in the distance that sat upon the edge of the landmass his house was also sitting upon. The forest surrounding his house became sparser but still managed to surround the lighthouse's base. The lamp of the lighthouse itself still stood above the trees and would've worked as a powerful beacon were it not the middle of the day. Lyle suddenly had the urge to go down to the coast and sea how powerful the waves were.

Ron suddenly smacked Lyle on the back.

"FUCK!" Lyle yelled in surprise, losing his composure entirely. He heard Ron begin laughing behind him. "What the hell…?" His voice went back to his base monotone.

Ron was still laughing as he replied. "I was waiting downstairs this whole time." He said. "You're mind sure loves to wander doesn't it?" He walked up beside Lyle and leaned on the balcony with him. "But yeah, this place is pretty great, isn't it?"

Lyle took a deep breath. "Yeah, it's pretty swell. The forest is nice, too."

"The trees actually help in keeping this place so quiet." Said Ron, he then paused for a moment to show what he meant. The only audible sound was the soft spring breeze and the rustling of the trees. "But don't think you'll be buying the forest as well. Only the house itself is for sale."

"Alright." Lyle said, standing up straight. "This place was, uh… 2.9 million, right?"

"Make that 3.5 million, Lyle."

"What, why?"

"It'll account for the renovations, furniture, and the washing machine you were telling me about earlier."

"I mentioned a washing machine?"

"And a drier," Said Ron. "You don't remember? You said you'd never want to walk into a laundromat again."

"Huh…" Lyle didn't remember in the slighted, but he didn't want to seem like an idiot so he just didn't say anything. "3.5 million…" He said under his breath. "And this thing'll be owned by me, right?"

"In it's entirety." Ron stood up as well and faced him.

"Alright," Said Lyle. "I'll think about it."

"Ha, told you so." Ron seemed to just assume he had made a sale. He began his way towards the steps that lead downstairs. "You can sign the papers later, there's one more thing I wanna show you while you're in town."

"I'll, uh… I'll see you in a second. I wanna spend a little bit more time up here."

"Suit yourself." Ron's voice was heard from the lower floor. "I'll be waiting outside the front door."

Lyle took a deep breath atop the tower once more. He squinted slightly as he looked out over the Atlantic horizon. A strange feeling came over him, like he had never seen so far before. The sensation was so bizarre it took Lyle a few minutes to even realize that was what kept him staring outwards. Lyle leaned on the edge of the balcony and stared down the sheer drop into the bay. He turned around to face the town and reflected of what he saw whilst first driving to the house. He wondered as to whether or not he'd fit in, or even end up interacting with the town as much as he did Edmonton where he grew up.

The scenery stilled in him a feeling Lyle couldn't recognize. It was something like an innocent wonder that felt childish to him, not that he minded. He looked at the waves crashing upon the sandy beaches and the rocks around the promontory that held the lighthouse.

"Sold." He whispered to himself, and then he heard something behind him.

Lyle spun around, not wanted to be caught off guard a second time. But, he saw nothing. The tower, save for him, was still totally empty. Lyle must've been paranoid.

Eventually, he decided he'd face those problems when the time came. Atop the tower, he stretched, and headed downstairs to meet up with Ron.

They met at the porch. Lyle opened the front door to the house's yard and saw Ron leaning on the porch, surveying the overgrown foliage all around the house. Ron glances at something to his left.

"Ready to go, Lyle?" Ron said, noticing him.

"Go where?"

Ron looked like he was thinking of what to say next. "I'll surprise you, come on." He began his way towards the front gates.

Lyle followed him and looked around once more at what would soon be his new yard. He had already fallen in love with its aesthetic, of greenery growing around cracked bricks and rusted fences. He wondered whether or not he could get Ron's renovators to keep the plants on the house.

They passed the fence and Ron closed it behind them.

"We're not going to be driving there are we?" Lyle asked, glancing at his truck.

"No, it's only a 10 minute's walk away."

"Is it a restaurant?"

"You think I'd drag you out here for a restaurant?"

"I thought you dragged me out here for the house."

Ron laughed. "That too." He began to walk down the slope that lead up to Shearbridge Grove. "Say, did I tell you how I came across the contract for this house?"

Lyle followed. "Yeah, that, uh… that other contract company."

"Yeah," Ron said. "But there was a lot more luck involved."

"What?"

"I'll explain once we reach the road." Ron had to keep changing his step to align with the slant of the hill. Lyle didn't find much trouble, but that may've had some help with the thick spiked shoes he wore.

Lyle looked around as they walked down the hill, he mostly looked around at the forest that surrounded them. Winter had just ended so there were still pine needles littered across the ground, some of the taller deciduous trees that arched over the path itself had yet to grew their leaves back. Even though it was still the middle of the afternoon—they couldn't possibly have spent more than a couple hours at the house—the shade that came from the surrounding trees made it seem like the sun had set. It would be, without a doubt, a nightmare to get home late.

The reached the sidewalk of the cement road. Ron's breathing was heavy from having to walk down the slope, even though they were only walking for about 5 minutes.

"What… an… ordeal, huh?" Ron said between breaths. He tried to stretch out his back.

"Ha. For being so lanky you're not very athletic."

"Regardless…" Ron said, getting his breath back. "The place I wanted to show you is really close by."

They began walking down the street and into a denser part of town. There were a lot of people walking as they were. Lyle observed the pale-coloured buildings with old-fashioned signs that people continued to enter and exit. Lyle even saw what looked like a candy store, with bowls of sweets showcased behind the window and a colourful border around a big sign reading Sugar Baby. A name Lyle didn't feel like he totally appreciated.

"Ron," Lyle looked at his friend. "Has school already begun?"

"School had begun weeks ago, man." Ron said.

Lyle looked back to the candy store, at least a dozen kids could be seen inside. Presumably buying and eating candies with their friends and their allowances.

"This town is so different." Lyle said.

"Compared to Edmonton?" Ron looked at him. "That would go without saying, wouldn't it?"

"You were gonna tell me how you found Shearbridge Grove weren't you?"

"Oh yeah," Ron tried to remember where he left off. "So, uh, four months ago the company I worked for merged with Great Lakes Property & Renovations, which meant that a bunch of properties from all around East of Canada, uh… came in."

"Came in?"

"We got a lot more property to sell, is what I'm saying."

"Yeah, and that's how you found the house?"

"And when I found this house, it was from the other company!"

The air around them grew silent for a few moments, Lyle looked back towards the house to see if it was still in view. Only the top of the forested hill could be seen. He looked back at Ron. "That's it?"

"What do you mean that's it?"

"You were amping it up to have this huge surprise but the conclusion was just 'the other company had it.'"

"Well," Ron said, not looking at all surprised by Lyle's reaction. "It was a lot more exciting to me when I was skimming through all our new files."

Lyle was going to say something else but Ron stopped him. "Here we are." He said. He motioned towards a small building wedged between two larger buildings at the edge of an intersection. Above the door and the storefront window was a large black sign that said in bold gold letters The Devil's Night Auction. Lyle recognized what it was at once.

"You brought me out for drinks?" Lyle asked. "In the middle of the afternoon?"

"Trust me on this." Ron said. "You will not even care."

The stepped inside and the mood changed immediately. Lyle heard the creak of the wooden floor and looked around the inside of The Devil's Night Auction. He thought to himself what a punkish name that was. The inside of the bar was clean but had a very rustic tone. Dust could be seen floating about within the sunlight that shone in. The rest of the bar was dim and low-lit. Three other men sat in one of the booths and spoke to each other in quiet murmurs.

Lyle and Ron sat at the counter and Lyle saw an enormous man walk over to them. He looked just above 40, with a totally bald head that genuinely seemed to shine in the light.

"What can I get you two?" He asked in a very gruff voice but in an obviously welcoming tone.

"One of your specials for my friend here." Ron said.

"Specials?"

"Just wait for it, Lyle."

Lyle looked to the bartender but it didn't seem like he actually knew what Ron was trying to do. "Alright." He said, simply. He walked into a room behind the counter and after a couple minutes came out with a mug filled to the brim with a bright yellow beer. It frothed at the top.

It was placed in front of him. Lyle picked it up and tried to somehow guess what the beer was made of: It looked typical, fictional, platonic, just like the rest of Hollridge. Miniscule bubbles rose up and clung to the insides of the glass mug, the light sound of fizzing coming from the froth. It smelled sort-of fruity, but it also smelled somewhat citrus-y. Lyle looked once to Ron, who was grinning from ear to ear. He looked once at the bartender, who had his arms crossed and seemed to just be waiting. Why was there so much pressure for him to drink it?

"Do I just swish it or do I sip it like wine?" Lyle asked, deadpan.

The bartender chuckled genuinely. "Drink the way you're most used to." He said.

Lyle nodded once and lifted his glass slightly. "Cheers, then." He said before gulping down half of the entire mug in one draft. It tasted amazing.

Lyle let the mug down and almost licked his lips. He looked to Ron.

"So, how was it?"

"This is…" Lyle was trying a find a way to word his answer sincerely, but to also be a dick to Ron by acting unenthused. He eventually gave up. "I think this is the only beer whose taste I actually loved."

"I know, right!?" Ron said.

Lyle didn't need to reply; he had already begun to finish off his drink.

The bartender chuckled again. "It's our most popular drink," He said. "Piss and Vinegar!"

Lyle didn't even falter. After emptying the glass, he set it down and looked the bartender in the eyes. "I'll have one more." He said, bluntly.

This time the bartender laughed loudly. "You're made of sterner stuff!" He proclaimed. He took Lyle's glass, left the counter, and returned with it filled up again. He handed it to Lyle. "You're the writer Ron's selling Shearbridge Grove to?" He asked.

Lyle took another drink, this one much smaller. "Yeah." He said.

The bartender hesitated, it seemed like he had expected Lyle to continue. "Have you made a decision yet?"

"Not yet…"

"Quote unquote, of course." Ron butted in, smiling.

"Are you joining Hollridge, then?"

The question seemed different, since it wasn't Ron who was asking. Lyle took a moment to look around the bar, and he tried to reason with himself that the answer hadn't been pre-decided. Lying to himself was not one of Lyle's abilities. "Yeah, I'm buying."

"Wahey!" Ron raised his arms. "Another satisfied customer!"

The bartender just crossed his arms and nodded. He stuck out a hand to Lyle. "Name's Dorhys, welcome to Hollridge."

Jack shook it. "Lyle." He said. He looked up to the bartender, Dorhys. "Is 'Doris' a family name?"

"Is that sarcastic?" Dorhys asked.

"No, it isn't." Ron answered first. "You'll get used to how he talks."

Dorhys didn't say anything. "It's a family name, yeah." He said to Lyle. "How'd you get your name, you don't look English."

"You're not the first to say that." Lyle, after taking another drink from his beer, replied. "But some people've said I actually do look English."

"Where does that leave you?"

Lyle shrugged and took another drink. "My roots are from all over the place." He said. "People've gotten lots of impressions about me."

"It's 'cause they're trying to figure out some way of relating to him." Ron said.

"Relating? Like saying 'Oh, I know some people from there.'?" Dorhys asked.

Lyle had almost finished his drink now. "I guess," He said. He looked out the window, it had become overcast. "I… guess it's something like that. I never tried asking anyone about it."

"What about Ron?"

"I'm not that kinda guy." Ron said.

Lyle finished his drink and stood up. He looked out the window again and was sure it would start raining any moment now, the clouds had arrived a lot sooner than he had guessed. He looked to Dorhys. "How much?"

"Are you kidding?" Ron asked. "I'm the one who brought you here."

"Forget it," Dorhys said. "You get those two on the house. Welcome to Hollridge, Lyle."

Lyle managed to crack a smile. "Hope I'll fit in." He said.