He has a lot of energy for being so old, and this shop has really kept him going since his wife died. She passed away about ten years ago, and for a while, Samuel hardly did anything; he just sat and read books. That is why I moved in with him, not only do I work here in the store, but I also take care of him. I make sure the house is taken care of as well. The maintenance and bills were falling behind before I came to help. I clean his house, take care of the gardens that his wife planted, cook for the both of us, and generally make sure Mr. Samuel keeps going. While he is old, there are still plenty of things Mr. Samuel has to live for here in town. He is well liked and many people here hate to see him upset.
The town that we live in, it is a small town; filled with old blood and towering cypress. Not on any map, Westerfield is a well-hidden secret from the rest of the World. The outskirts of this town are marked by thick forests, spotted with random areas of swamp. Westerfield is separated from the advances of the modern world by these natural barriers. The town itself is very quiet, and has one long cobblestone road that serves as the central divider of town. The main street of the town has many storefronts along it, and allows the residents to find all that they need in order to live comfortably.
The general store, the grocery store, the barbers shop, Samuel's bookstore, the tailor and the jailhouse all lay on the main street. Their outer appearances are that of buildings from the mid eighteen hundreds. At the top of the street sits the town hall, serving as the courthouse and a gossiping perch for anyone who wants to know what is happening around town. The newspaper office sits a few buildings down, though there is not much news to report on here in this quiet town. Most conflicts are resolved within the same hour of coming to a climax in Westerfield. I once saw two feuding teenagers causing a scene; they were screaming and going on loudly outside of the store. Three elderly women who had just exited the bookstore tapped the teenagers on their shoulders. These women calmly whispered things into the ears of the younger two, whose postures were still beset with hostility, and the teenagers tensed up before looking defeated. The elder kind stepped back and watched, while smirking mind you, as the two teenagers shook hands. Once the exchange had ended and the quietness once more took hold over the town I was still staring out the window with an eyebrow quirked. I wondered if the elder generation really had that type of control over the younger one...and if that was the case, I longed to know the reason why. I desired to find out what exactly the teenagers had been told, and why they were so obedient of their elders. I just had so many questions about the strangeness of Westerfield.
When I first moved in with Samuel, everyone I know found my stories of Westerfield bizarre, from the way that the town planners laid out the streets, to how the entire town grows silent after nightfall. It gets so silent here...as if not even the frogs dare to croak for fear of disrupting some unspoken decree. I just get the feeling that the town is hiding something, what other reason would there be for such an odd occurrence? Westerfield even has a curfew at nightfall; everyone who lives here must abide by it as well. The curfew states that all residents must be inside their homes by nightfall. Odd I know, but Samuel said that it is necessary to protect the townsfolk from the evils of the night. The day he let the information slip in front of me, Samuel got very pale and sent a glance out the window towards the woods. We were at home for that conversation, and his glance was wearily cast towards the foggy tree line.