Hood: Part 1: Prologue

Prologue

    “Nyssa, Gentlemen, needs less governing! Every one of your so called “refurbishment acts” is serving no purpose other than wasting precious resources and tax dollars,” Phil Loxley slammed his fist on the table.

“What do you propose, Phil?” questioned the Mayor, James Prince. He was a lanky man, thin and of average height. His coarse dark hair was balding rather quickly for a man of his 41 years. He was aging in such a way that it was nearly impossible to tell if the wrinkles on his face were from frowning, smiling, or worry. He was a genial man, strong willed, and in the habit of being reelected.

   Sitting across the room, arms folded, head down, eyes fixed and steady was the Nyssa City Sheriff, Mark Ingrim. Ingrim was nothing like the mayor in appearance. Where the mayor was thin and average, the sheriff was a man of thick build and height. He was an agile 28 year old--the youngest sheriff ever appointed.

“Start with removing the needless tax on the middle class,” Phil stated bluntly.

“We both know,” the mayor said, rising from his chair, “that if we lessen the taxes, we risk political bankruptcy. I thought we had discussed this?”

“I’ve changed my mind.” Phil Loxely went towards the door. He grabbed his coat off the rack and slung it round his shoulders.

“Changed your mind?” the sheriff looked up.

“I’ll have no more part in your ways of running this city. You’re all headed down a surefire path of destruction, and I'll be six feet under the sod before i help you get there!” Phil strode out of the office.

“He has no right!” the sheriff jumped to his feet shouting and pointing at the retreating figure of Phil Loxley.

“Calm down. This is a blow. Loxley was a necessary element. But for now, we’ll just have him replaced...Whose the fellow in accounting? Guy Melbourne? He’s overdue for a promotion anyway,” the mayor stroked his chin, returning to his chair behind the desk, “How old is his son?”.

“Phil’s son?” the sheriff asked.

“Yes.”

“Seventeen, he’s leaving for college this fall,” the sheriff returned, “why do you ask?”

“Curiosity. He’s too young now, but when he comes back, we may have use for him.” the mayor returned.

“If he’s anything like his father, he’ll be of no use at all.” the sheriff blurted.

“If he’s anything like his father, he’ll be more than useful. He’ll be indispensable.” the mayor said thoughtfully.

***

“College is an exciting part of life. It’s a big step.”

   Phil Loxley put a hand on his son’s shoulder. This was the sendoff. It was the year 2191 and his only son was leaving home. Phil’s wife, Hanna, had died some years before, leaving him to raise alone their son, Ransom Joseph Loxley. Ransom was on his way to a military school some four-thousand miles away. In four years, he would be an officer in the army--it was his life’s dream.

“Make the most of it?” Ransom said.

“Absolutely”

      Ransom and his father hugged on last time. His flight was boarding.

“Ransom!” A voice called across the terminal.

“Hang on, dad, it’s Maryam.” Ransom grabbed his bags and hurried toward the voice.

“Thought you could leave without saying goodbye, did you?” Maryam Peregrine Willow, a lovely strawberry-blond girl of 17, wrapped her thin arms around his neck.

“I was hoping you’d show,” Ransom’s face lit up.

“I’ll see you next summer? Call lots!” she said.

“Of course!”

*****

Part 2 Coming Soon...