samsville - brady faught

8/6/2019 Samsville - Brady Faught

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SAMSVILLE

by: Brady Faught

Life was pretty normal here. Sam took out the trash and washed the dishes, then

stuffed his gear into the old Adidas bag and left for his tennis game that afternoon. He was

tall for age 17, which gave him a stretched-out appearance as if he grew too fast. As hesteered his car onto the A7 exit towards the Hillsbury Sports Club, and hoped that his friend

Sam didn’t need a ride too (Yes, they were both named Sam.) ‘Ten minutes late, my couch is

gonna kill me!’ Sam thought to himself. Coach Barnes was waiting next to the Gatorade

machine with his arms crossed. “C’mon Sam, every week! You play in 6 minutes, Field Two.

Let’s go!” Sam threw on his shorts and quickly warmed up. The ref called him and his

opponent to centre court. ‘Sam will you flip the coin?’

15 minutes into the match, Sam turned around and looked up. The scoreboard

displayed in dim florescent lights: ‘Sam Barnes: 3-2 games. Score 40-30’ Was he winning? It

was hard to keep track sometimes. He wished his mother was in the stands watching, but

Professor Barnes is always busy. Ever since his Dad died, Sam Barnes Senior, she’d beenkeeping herself buried in work at the office.

A slap on the back startled Sam as he was walking slowly toward the dressing room

door. ‘Good game buddy, how did you scrape that win? So, I don’t know about you, but Sam

was thinking about getting some drinks tonight, you in?’ ‘Ah, no sorry, I can’t make it, the

girlfriend wants to watch a movie tonight.’ ‘Wow man, Sam has got you wrapped around her

little finger, heh?’

Monday morning came too quickly. His room was hot and humid from the morning

sun and DJ S. Mayhem was unnecessarily shouting the weather forecast. ’Partly cloudy with a

chance of Thunder thunder THUNDERSTORMS!’ Why does he listen to this radio station?

He felt the ache in his arms from yesterday’s match. ‘Sam! Breakfast!’ ‘Okay, mom…’

Stepping onto the bus, he searched for his usual seat. Taking a quick look at everyone,

he thought to himself how weird it was that everyone looked the exact same. Really, why did

we all have to wear school uniforms? S.B Memorial City Highschool students get to wear

whatever they want, but the extra hour bus ride to get to that school definitely wasn’t worth it.

Class attendance was difficult, but so were most things involving names. ‘Sam

Barnes?’ droned the teacher from behind her desk. ‘Ya, here’ he replied, while etching out a

smiley face on the side of his desk. ‘Okay, class, today is a special day,” mumbled theteacher. “I’d like to introduce to everyone, two new students. First say first hello to Sam

Barnes.’ ‘Hello, Sam,’ the class said in unison. As the new girl entered the class and took her

seat, Sam glanced over the all-too familiar black hair and pointed nose. It was like looking

into a mirror and seeing himself with long, wavy hair. What it would be like to see a girl with

different coloured hair and eyes that weren’t the same colour as his own? ‘Weird,’ he thought

to himself.

‘The next student,’ the teacher spoke with a slight shake in her voice. She hesitated for a

moment. ‘The next student’s name is Thomas Reed.’ The room fell silent. Thomas Reed?

Slowly the silence turned into quiet murmurs among one another.

Sam thought to himself, ‘is this a joke, what’s going on?’ A tall boy entered, with strange,

light coloured hair and bright green eyes. The murmuring around the class grew. The boy had



tanned skin, which was rare for Sam’s town; they didn’t get a lot of sun. Where was he from?

He had no idea. All he knew is that from the moment Thomas entered the class, Sam had a

feeling that he didn’t like the new kid. No one did.

‘I’m just here for a few months, just, checking in on the town, I used to live here, you

know, before.’ Thomas had caught up to Sam as he was turning the corner towards theCloverdale Bus stop. Thomas had been completely quiet the whole day, why was he talking to

Sam? ‘What do you mean, before?’ asked Sam. ‘Oh nothing. I just mean, I can see why it

happened last time. People don’t like me here, they…they don’t want me here. Nothing’s

changed since last time.’ Sam had no idea what he was talking about. They spoke in his

church sometimes about different people, with different names. Their god, Sam, banished

these people for reasons unknown, but those were just stories, stuff you told to children. But

yet here he was, standing right in front of him, someone different.

A few weeks later, school was starting its second semester. Winter had finally arrived,

with a foot of new snow on the ground. Sam’s two friends sat their lunch trays down on the

pasty white cafeteria table. Great, more refried potatoes. After contemplating the lethality of the questionable food in front of him, his friend asked. ‘Hey Sam, have you seen that guy

Thomas around?’

‘No, actually I haven’t seen him for a week or so now. Maybe he went back home.’ In reality,

Sam had thought a lot about what Thomas said. His friend replied with a mouthful of

meatloaf “He didn’t fit in, I don’t know why he came here.”

‘Why does he talk to you, Sam?’ asked his other friend. ‘What does he tell you?’

‘I dunno why he talks to me. Lately he was just asking me about life in our town and my

family and stuff. I don’t get it, what’s so special about me?’

After trudging eight miles home from school (stupid bus driver strike), the last thing he

wanted to think about was homework. ‘Have you finished your short story assignment yet,

Sam?” “…not yet Mom.” Ughh so much for not thinking about homework. “Couldn’t I just

tell my teacher that I’m travelling in Cambodia?” Sam pulled his chair up to his desk and

stared at the computer screen. “Okay, almost done, 200 words left.” Ten minutes into lazily

typing he hears a knock at the door. No one answers. Where did Mom go? Maybe she’s in the

shower. Sam groans as he picks himself out of his chair, lumbers down the stairs and pulls the

large wooden front door open. Standing on the porch are three tall boys with light hair and

piercing green eyes. ‘Hi Sam, it’s Thomas, I’d like you to meet my friends Thomas, and

Thomas. We have something to ask you.”

They all walked into the backyard, as Sam’s mom would find it strange these particular friends her son brought over. “Okay, this is why we are here. We want to change things, Sam,

back to normal,” said Thomas in a firm voice.

“What do you mean, normal? It is normal!”

“Let’s put it this way, Sam. Your town is one note, played over and over again, and we want

to change it back into music, something worth listening to. You need variety if you ever want

progression. And to make the necessary changes, we will need your help.”

“Why me? Why are you telling me all this?”

“We’re telling you, because you’re not really from this town either, Sam. You’re different just

like us.”

“What? I don’t understand! Where am I from? And what are you going to do to my town?”

“All I can tell you is that this time tomorrow evening, you won’t be called Sam anymore,”



Life was pretty normal here.

samsville - brady faught

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