I’d had a feeling there was something strange about Marston ever since Mom said that would be the destination of our summer holiday. I wasn’t sure where I’d heard of it before but it gave me a strange feeling. And it didn’t take long after entering the small town for me to realise how right I’d been. There were people everywhere looking like they’d just stepped out of a Woodstock concert. People were walking around in a rainbow of colours, women in thin dresses that went down to the ground with flowers braided into their hair to form headbands; men with sleeveless army surplus jackets over tie dyed T-shirts and bell bottom jeans. Incense wafted out of many open shop doors. At least I hoped it was incense. There was an assortment of buskers with varying instruments surrounded by crowds of somewhat tone deaf but very generous on-lookers. And the houses were all painted in vibrant colours and extravagant murals that hurt to look at.
“I know that look Mason, and yes we are seriously staying here” My father said with a tone of finality. “I haven’t seen John in twelve years and his wife just died so I am going to be there for him. We are going to be there for him.”

Brilliant. Two weeks of this abuse on the senses.

I will admit the house is nice, by Marston standards. It is a small two storey wood place, set just on the edge of town. It isn’t a kaleidoscope of colours like some of the houses but rather a simple chestnut brown and white. In fact aside from the ‘Legalise, Regulate, Educate, Medicate.’ flyer and the marijuana leaf wind-chime it looked like a regular suburban house.

When Dad had told me John was the top of his class in law school I immediately pictured some grumpy 40-something year old with greying hair and tortoiseshell glasses who owned a wardrobe of the same suit. ‘Hmm which suit to wear today, the white shirt black tie or white shirt black tie?’ What I got instead was a man, who looked like he was about mid 30’s with a mischievous look about him as if he knew the secret to life and was deciding whether he should tell you. His hair was greying on the sides, but it mixed well with the chestnut brown and matched his cloud grey eyes, and he was wearing a flannel shirt and jeans with bare feet.

‘Marcus! Glad you could make it old mate’ John said as he made his way over and hugged us each in turn. ‘Annie, lovely as always. And Mason, how you’ve grown.  Last time I saw you, you were this tall’ He said holding his hand mid-thigh.

‘Yes, he’s grown into quite the young man.’ Dad said clapping me on the shoulder. ‘And how’s Indy? Is she here?’ Dad asked looking around John to see inside.

‘She’s visiting her grandmother in Australia’ John replied, his smile wavering for a microsecond then returning. ‘Her plane arrives at 4. But come on in and get settled.’

After half an hour’s arguing over who would take the couch- John saying he would, my parents could take his room and I’d have the spare room, my Dad opting to take the couch while Mum and I shared the spare room, John arguing that ‘young men shouldn’t share a bed with their parents’, and me claiming I’d happily sleep in a tree if it meant I could put my bags down for more than a few seconds- we finally settled in. Mum and Dad took John’s room, John took the spare room and I had already passed out on the couch so there was no argument there. Unfortunately I hadn’t slept on the trip up and forgot to order a wake-up call so I missed the trip to the airport to pick up Indy. This meant instead of the traditional meeting of old childhood friends I’d been expecting, where you look around anxiously for familiar faces and then spend the drive catching up, I woke to find her standing over the couch watching me. But that wasn’t the only thing I didn’t expect. You see it didn’t occur to me that it had been twelve years since I’d seen Indigo Hallworth. I’m not saying I expected a five year old with pig tails, a gap toothed smile and Hello Kitty hair clips, but I didn’t expect this. The Indigo standing in front of me, or rather over me, was beautiful. Not so much ‘look at me, look at me’ type beautiful, but an obscure sort of beauty, the kind of beautiful that only showed itself if you weren’t really looking. Her blonde hair hung over her shoulder in a ponytail held together by an electric blue hair tie. She wore a black work shirt and slacks with ‘Rainbow café’ embroidered across the shirt pocket in white and a silver name tag attached on the opposite pocket making it hard to look anywhere else. I followed her bare white arms down to where she held her hands together in front of her. She was looking at me like I was a childhood pet she was trying to remember the name of. From the cute way she bit her lower lip and the curious look in her bright emerald green eyes perhaps I was.

‘Wondering when you were going to wake up’ she stopped biting her lip but her eyes remained curious as ever as she sat down on my legs.

‘Where is everyone?’ I asked as I pulled my legs out and sat up properly.

“Dad took them on a tour of town.” She says handing me a note. “He asked me to stay here and hang out with you but I have to be at work in a few minutes. You might as well tag along and hang out in the café.”

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Walking through the streets of Marston with Indy did little to divert my original impressions. The streets were just as obnoxious up close and it was all I could do not to plug myself into my phone to drown out the buskers.