Chapter 2
The eastern coast of Canada is known for its rocky terrain, good seafood and wet, misty weather. Nova Scotia in particular is susceptible to this statement. Fog is more prevalent than sunshine some times of the year and some twilight fans would compare it to forks.
Halifax, the capital city, was settled in the early seventeen hundreds. It grew to become one of the largest cities on the east coast. With towering buildings along either side of the harbour, it’s a central hub for tourism, business and many other activities. The area outside the city however quickly thins into small communities and clusters of houses swamped by forest. Development had recently grinded to halt when the local housing market crashed, and many houses sat unoccupied, half finished or alone with the nearest neighbour far and in-between.
However 2 houses that sat on the farthest edge of the now frozen development were occupied.
They sat facing each other on opposite sides of a gravel paved lot. One was red while the other was yellow. The houses were almost brand new and had been expected to be occupied by large families contributing to the community the builders were planning on building around them. Now, since the crash, the only occupants of the houses were two young men.
They had acquired the houses for a ridiculously low price. This was because along with the lack of need for houses, two new ones "off the beaten path" seemed undesirable.
One chose he yellow house. The other chose the red one.
Both houses were nearly identical in design. They were square shaped with a small garage that extended under the house. These proved to be very useful to the owner of the red house. He possessed a fine piece of automotive creation to sit in his. A rather Exquisite 1970 Chevrolet chevelle.
The owner of the yellow house...not as much. A rather sickly looking 1991 Honda coupe.
The afternoon tiffany had subdued the guards outside lunas bedroom; the owner of the Chevelle was where he usually could be found.
Under the Chevelle, working on it.
It is here where everything begins for 22 year old Alec Dirkson.
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"C'mon girl I just want to change your oil"
Alec lay on the concrete floor beneath the driver’s side fiddling with a ratchet that always seemed to change size overnight. Try as he might, the stubborn oil cap stayed put. Alec threw it aside, groaned, and laid flat on his back to consider his next option.
"Let’s see... I could go bug Raymond, I’d bet he has one that fits...Oh that’s right he’s not home from work yet"
He glanced at the pile of ratchet heads next to him. There were dozens and yet not one that fit the oil cap. In a last ditch guess he chose one that had rolled away from the group, attached it, and fitted the ratchet to the oil cap.
"Please work" he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
The ratchet slipped onto the grease covered nut and with a satisfying silence, began to loosen it. It would’ve been a victory, had he not forgotten the oil tray and the fact that he was right underneath it. Before he could react, a thick gooey stream of CASTROL GTX began to "lubricate" T- shirt he had thrown on that morning.
"OH FOR FU- ACK NO GOD DAMMIT"
He continued to spit curses and other profanity as he reached down near his waist for the misplaced oil tray. Without hesitation he slid it up onto his chest, before sliding out from under it. He then slid out from under the car and got to his feet. A good thirty percent of his shirt was covered in oil.
"Just great" he grumbled.
He then turned to the chevelle and patted its front wheel well.
"The things I do for you"
But in his heart, he knew there were few things he wouldn’t do for it.
It was all he had left of his foster parents.
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Alec had been found in a basket in front of a retired couple’s house a snowy night 22 years ago.
To the couples shock, he appeared to be less than a few hours old. It was never determined who he belonged to. No DNA matching could be determined, neither had any births occurred in the hospital that night. The aging couple had then assumed all responsibility of raising him with the time they had left. He grew over the years to become an independent, self aware person. He got good grades in school, and never got into drugs or alcohol. There was just one problem. Alec couldn’t make friends for the life of him. It wasn’t that he was mean or anything, nor was any other people mean to him.
He just wasn’t "Friendship conscious" yet.
It was only when he graduated did he understand how much friendship mattered in life.
On the day of the ceremony, His foster father had taken him back to a shed which had remained locked for as long as he could remember.
Inside was the Chevelle.
Receiving that car, that decaying piece of the 70's, was the last happy moment He and his father, (He had come to accept him as the closest thing he would ever have)
would share.
A few days later they were gone.
Alec never found out how.
The firemen siad it was bad wiring coming into contact with some insulation.They were both asleep and the house didn't have a fire alarm.
He remembered that he was out looking for a job. After another fruitless day he on his way back. He had turned onto their street when he saw the fire trucks.
He remembered hoping, praying that they got out.
He tried to break through the barricade of firemen. He almost ran headlong into the inferno.
Looking back on it seemed stupid. But at the time they were all he had.
Then nothing.
No friends.
No family.
Not even a biological relative.
Alec was truly alone.
But it was at his lowest point when he found his first true and lifelong friend.
That friend, who would prove to Alec invaluable in the future, was Raymond Callahan.
Raymond came from a small fishing village somewhere in Newfoundland and had come to Halifax shortly after Alec had given up on everything. He had met him when he saw a sad excuse for a recent graduate standing at the end of a pier looking as lively as a morgue.
Alec was, at the time, living in a small campervan not far from the dock.
Since his "Parents" death he had little care for money... or anything at all for that matter.
Raymond loved fishing and had come to the dock for some bait. When he saw Alec he approached him and complimented him on his car.
The Chevelle.
The very reason they met in the first place. Just another reason he had to be thankful he had it.
It took some time but Raymond got Alec to tag along when he went fishing. A few months later the pair was the best of friends.
Funny how Throwing lines attached to poles in the water can make people bond.
All was normal until one fateful day in 2010. Raymond came over from his trailer in a nearby trailer park COMPLETELY in love with a new T.V. show.
The show, predictably, was my little pony.
At first Alec suggested psychiatric help but Raymond was persistent, and managed to get him to watch one episode.
One was all it took.
Since then the two had become avid bronies, each owning their fair share of merchandise. Thing were, once again, normal. Or at least as normal as they were ever going to be.
A few months went by. Raymond found a job on a deep sea trawler and Alec found work on an oil rig located far offshore. But the pay was mindblowing! The platform he had worked aboard struck the mother lode and Alec quickly found himself with more money than he could possibly spend.
It was at that time when the price of housing plummeted. The two noticed this and sprung with the money they had made in such a short while. They were able to locate the 2 newly built houses on the edge of the wilderness. Despite the fact that Raymond had to take out a fair size loan to acquire his, the two moved in across from each other.
Things were looking perfect for Alec finally.
Raymond however, because of the loan, had to downgrade from a ford fusion to The "Honda from hell" so to speak.
It was loud, dirty and about as reliable as a wet paper bag.
It was the sound of that certain Honda that brought Alec out of his not so distant memories.
Raymond was home.
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