Brennan looked up into the dreary gray skies, squinting at the diffused sunlight while wiping his brow. The trees shake in the wind with their leaves downturned and drooping, a foreboding sign that once the sun leaves, thunder will come rolling in. Just his luck, and he says as such under his breath.
“What are you grumbling about over there?” A voice from behind catches Brennan’s attention. Henry, a friend of his dad, looks at Brennan with furrowed brows as he chides him. “Get back to work.”
With a sigh and a heave, Brennan picks up the shovel he put down and begins digging again.
“Aren’t you sick of it, Uncle Henry?” Brennan asks, “How we have to work on these stupid projects day in and day out, rain or shine while the Locals get to sit in their fancy mansion. ‘Locals' they call themselves, like I haven’t lived here for most of my life either. Thinking that they get special privileges just because they were here first. We’re all people in need, the world almost ended for Christ’s sake. I don’t even know what we’re building this time around.” Brennan annunciating each angry thought coupled with another stake of the shovel into the ground.
By the end of his tirade, Brennan is heaving heavy breaths, winded by the exhaustive labor and rage that’s bubbled up inside him. Henry gives Brennan a sympathetic look and a solemn “Hm”, knowing the struggles that Brennan speaks of. He’s lived through those exact same struggles, had those exact same thoughts, but Henry lets Brennan speak his mind freely anyways. Anger is the best way to slog through the tiring physical labor they’ve been tasked to complete. Brennan is just coming into adulthood with a fire that burns inside; It yearns for action and justice. He grew up only knowing the unfairness of the community they’ve found themselves residing in. Henry, at this point, is a little too old for that.
Hours of shoveling and groundlaying takes a toll on Brennan’s back. By the time the sun begins to set and the air starts to moisten with the earliest hints of rain, Brennan is on his way to join his family for dinner back at the Lodge. Rainy days are the worst around here, Brennan thinks. At least when the weather is pleasant he can witness the sunset shimmering across the great blue expanse and the light breeze of the coast could be enjoyed. Rain means the one relaxing reprieve after a hard day of labor has been taken away. Too exhausted to conjure up any more anger at the hand of cards he’s been dealt, he enters the cramped building known as the Lodge.
The Lodge is nestled right in the shadows of the looming mansion it faces. It stays shrouded in the darkness until the sun begins to set over the horizon. It is seemingly filled to the brim with everything under the sun, a side effect of too many people shoved into too small of a space. Beds stacked on beds stacked on cabinets and drawers. Brennan makes his way through the maze of sleeping arrangements and items strewn across the floor to the corner of the Lodge where his family is waiting for him.