Chapter 1: White Balance

Summer in Chamberlain was hazy and idyllic. The city had the down-home atmosphere of a Norman Rockwell print; a sleepy patchwork of tree-lined avenues and painfully green lawns. The streets droned with cicadas and the ponds with dragonflies, their streamlined bodies glittering like emeralds in the morning sun. Its picket-fence suburbs were perhaps the most American of the regional townships. On a fine, clear day, you could smell the heady aroma of apple pie drifting down the sidewalk; a cinnamon wave exhaled from a thousand kitchen windows.

Kings Domain extended over the eastern ridge of the city, bordered by Memorial Drive on one side and Chamberlain Heights on the other. A large, rambling parkland crisscrossed by jogging paths and pine groves, it claimed a history dating back to pre-revolutionary times (hence the anachronistic title). The Commemorative Fountain at the middle of the Park was a favored meeting place with the Sole Parents Society, mainly due to its close proximity to the Adventure Playground.

Bradley Wilson couldn’t be described as a sole parent, although he’d recently ‘inherited’ responsibility for an orphaned child. His young cousin Angie Raymond had adopted him as a defacto parent over the past few months, a role he’d grown into with a certain degree of rueful satisfaction. A second year postgraduate, Brad had originally joined Sole Parents hoping to free up his weekends via the care-giver exchange.

Much to his surprise, he’d discovered a network of support entirely missing from his immediate family. He’d made several friends within the Society - mostly women his own age, quietly sympathetic towards his unusual situation. His weekends were still as busy as ever, but the hidden benefits were more than adequate.

And, if nothing else, it had provided numerous playmates for Angie, the proverbial blessing in disguise from Brad’s viewpoint.

The air was crisp and still as they made their way through Memorial Gardens. They were cutting through the Wildlands, a low, rolling pine glade riddled with bike tracks and mystery walks.

Most Saturday mornings, the Playground was overrun by hordes of yowling children. Brad could hear their excited howls echoing along the trail. Sounded like a full scale riot, even at this distance. The majority would be little girls from the Heights district; pixie-faced angels decked out in pastel pinks and yellows.

Angie scampered along beside him, swinging happily from his right hand. Her bright red sun-frock clung to her waifish figure, hemline sweeping about her knees with each capering step. She’d been looking forward to this outing all week; most of her friends from playgroup were going to be there, along with some of the girls from her school.

It was shaping up to be a wonderful day. They were going to have a picnic on the grass with the ladies from Sole Parents, followed by a splash in the Fountain and a game of hunt ‘n’ catch in the Fort.

Best of all, Bradley had brought his DIGITAL CAMCORDER (that was how she actually thought of it; in capitals and italics), the one with the LCD DISPLAY and the AUTOZOOM. Brad had bought it down at Radio Shack a couple of weeks ago so he could tape her playing on the swings and slides and monkey bars. They often watched it on Brad’s DVD before she went to bed; it was becoming something of a family tradition.

“Are you going to film me playing in the Fort?” she chortled, betraying her impatience to get the morning underway.

“Sure will,” Brad replied offhand, glancing off into the pinewoods.

“What about Lindy? Are you gonna film her too?” Angie demanded, tugging energetically at his hand.

“Yeah, if she’s wearing a dress,” he answered offhand. Angie didn’t bother asking the most obvious question; she already knew the answer.