Many years ago, before the advent of the automobile or the television, there lived a gentleman by the name of Harry Brayton. The Braytons were the most prominent family in the town of Hurst Hollow, and Harry was the youngest of the family’s five sons. Quiet and thoughtful as a child, he was deemed “simple” by his father, who as the town physician “knew” about such things. The rest of the family largely ignored Harry. He watched as his brothers followed in their father’s footsteps to become respectable physicians, not even allowing Harry to lean over their shoulders as they studied their medical books. It was generally accepted by everyone in town that Harry would come to nothing.

But Harry wouldn’t have that. He didn’t feel like a simpleton, so why did they label him as such? Was it because he made up his own rules during chess games? Was it because of his kindness to animals? His mother was always angry at him for bringing home stray dogs that had wandered into town. He couldn’t quite put a finger on it. Determined to make something of himself, he started sneaking into his father’s library late at night and borrowing his medical books. By the light of one flickering candle (all of the good lighting was out in the parlor, and he didn’t want to risk getting caught), Harry would read, soaking up all the medical knowledge he could. If his father wouldn’t take him on as an assistant, then perhaps someone else would.

Before Harry could test his theory, his father died, keeling over unexpectedly after dinner one evening. While the brothers took care of their father’s affairs, Harry took care of his mother, who had taken to staying in bed and sobbing at all hours. Harry was kind and patient with her, but she barely took notice of him except to order him around. One day when Harry accidentally gave her lukewarm tea instead of hot, she threw a fit and told him she never wanted to see him again. With the words “worthless good-for-nothing!” ringing in his head, Harry took his pittance of an inheritance and left town.

Harry traveled by train through rolling hills and farmland until he happened upon the charming village of May Green. It was very green, indeed, and so enchanting that he decided to settle there. He purchased a piece of land on the edge of town, not far from the Sakima River, and founded a homestead he called Brayton Hill. After buying the property, he had little money left for a house, but he managed to build a small cabin and furnish it with everything he would need to start his new life.

Harry missed very little about his old life. He thought of his brothers from time to time and considered sending them letters, but he always dismissed the idea. The best thing he could do was establish himself in May Green, where no one knew enough of him or his past to label him a “simpleton”, and forget about Hurst Hollow.

To this end, Harry scanned the Sakima County Gazette for employment opportunities. He couldn’t believe his luck when he saw an ad for a physician’s assistant right there in May Green. Dressed in his best suit (he only had two), Harry walked into town and applied to speak to the head physician, Dr. John Hutchins.

Dr. Hutchins was an elderly but spry gentleman with a kind smile. He asked Harry a few questions about his background and experience. Harry felt nervous when Dr. Hutchins said, “Ah yes, I’ve heard much about the Braytons of Hurst Hollow. Excellent physicians.” Fortunately he hadn’t heard of Harry himself and didn’t probe too much into his family life.

Dr. Hutchins was so impressed by Harry’s medical knowledge and gentlemanly manners that he hired him on the spot.

That night, Harry celebrated with a game of chess (playing by his own rules, of course).

As the weeks passed, Harry settled into a routine of waking before dawn, eating a meager breakfast, and walking into town to work for Dr. Hutchins.

Eventually he was able to build onto the cabin and buy some fine new furnishings. He was learning a great deal and felt worthwhile for the first time in his life, but naturally, something was missing. He had grown tired of playing chess by himself, eating his meals alone, and taking walks on a Sunday afternoon with no one by his side.

When Harry made mention of his loneliness to Dr. Hutchins, the old gent simply said, “Lonely, you say? Hmm…” and went about his business. The next day, however, he came by Harry’s house with a lovely young woman on his arm.

“This is my niece, April,” he said. “She likes to paint, and I mentioned you had a blank canvas you hadn’t marred yet. Perhaps she could paint you something?”

Harry was instantly smitten as he looked upon April and her handsome features.

“Won’t you both stay for tea?” he asked, remembering his manners.

“No, thank you, Harry — I have business to attend to. But April will stay, won’t you, dear?”

The young lady nodded and smiled, her eyes fixed upon Harry’s face.

After polite conversation over tea, Harry sat in the parlor reading a medical text while April painted. Every so often Harry would glance up and note April’s progress, smiling to himself at her quiet concentration. Suddenly he had an idea.

“April,” he said, setting his book aside. “I’d like to have a portrait of you, but I can’t paint. May I take your photograph?”

“Certainly,” said April. She rested her paintbrush and palette on the easel and sat down on the sofa. Harry rushed to the bedroom to get his new camera. April sat perfectly still while Harry fiddled with the contraption and took the picture.

Harry wouldn’t get to see the picture until weeks later, after he had used up all of his film and sent the camera in for processing. Here’s what it looked like when it came back:

By then, Harry and April had fallen in love.

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