8. Ami #2
I can’t even process that Seabrook was once a vibrant haven for artists and musicians who flocked here.
I can’t believe that this typical town once had a rhythm of guitar strums, paintbrush strokes, and the hum of poetry readings at quaint little cafes.
Streets were lined with galleries displaying local art, and now all we can see is just plain storefronts.
Festivals celebrated music, dance, and visual arts, turning the town into a living, breathing masterpiece.
I contemplate quirky galleries, impromptu street performances, and cafés where poets and painters debated late into the night. But that was years ago.
Today, it is a picturesque, albeit quieter, seaside town with cottages.
The once eclectic galleries have been replaced by souvenir shops selling seashell trinkets and mass-produced art.
The cafés that once hosted spirited debates and live music are now cozy bistros catering to tourists craving clam chowder and lobster rolls.
Among those who benefited from the changes were families like mine. My great-great-grandfather’s investments in local real estate paid off handsomely as Seabrook transitioned from an artsy enclave to a tourist hotspot. And it was the same with Aunt Maggie’s father and uncles at that time.
The economic boom must have brought new infrastructure and amenities, but it also washed away the bohemian spirit that once defined the town.
The "ruin" of Seabrook isn't about decay or neglect; it’s about the loss of its unique cultural identity. The vibrant, chaotic energy that once made the town special has been replaced by a more polished, but less soulful, version of itself. The pastel cottages and tourist shops are lovely, but I bet they don’t sing with the same vibrant life that Seabrook once did.
"I know. It is really upsetting to see that Seabrook was really such a culturally diverse town once, and all of that was erased because people were not more accepting of change." Ethan speaks my mind.
“Yeah. We need to tell people the truth about Seabrook.”
“You sure about that?” Ethan turns to me.
But I’m convinced. "Yeah, absolutely. I mean, no one knew about this, but now that we know, we should tell people the truth. That is the only way. We cannot keep something like this hidden anymore."
" I agree, but this clearly shows that your aunt's maternal family was involved.
Don't you think if people find out that the history of Seabrook was erased by Aunt Maggie's ancestors, it could affect her election campaign?
" He isn’t wrong. If I tell people the truth, it could ruin her chances of winning this race.
But the people deserve to know. ON the other hand, the current voters could agree with those changes years ago, and that could help, not hurt, her election. Who knows?
I don't even think the elections are going to matter if we tell people the truth. They are going to question everything about this town once they find how much of its history has been erased and how different a town this used to be.
Ethan explains that it's not just that I want to have elections because your aunt and I are participating, but it's about this town. The people need this election to make a choice for Seabrook’s future.
But I counter: "The people also need to know the truth, and the town also needs its story to be told. We cannot keep it hidden."
Ethan’s sense of maintaining harmony comes through with his response.
“I agree with you. But we must be careful about how we are going to tell all of this to the people. I mean, I’m sure there are other people who live here whose ancestors were involved in erasing the original history of this place.
And other people might have roots related to the vision of the founding fathers.
I mean, if we reveal things out of nowhere, it can start war and conflicts here, too. "
I agree with him … all of this is crucial information.
I think we should keep it to ourselves until we know what we are going to do with it.
Ethan suggests keeping it at his place. His sense is that it will be safer there out of Aunt Maggie’s view.
If she should come across this, things could get messy.
He’s right once again. I guess I just need to blindly trust him on this.
"Okay, but if you're going to tell someone about this, you have to discuss it with me first. Both of us are in possession of this information, and it should be our decision if and when we want to talk about it," I make it clear to him. I hope he understands me.
He agrees to not telling anyone about it before discussing it with each other, but
I’m in a quandary on one point. I mean, I have to tell Aunt Maggie.
Whenever the truth comes out, she is going to be shocked to find out her family was related to something so big.
I have to prepare her for it, so I must tell her.
Not to mention what she would think of me, hiding the information from her.
"And by anyone, I mean don't tell your aunt either," Ethan says again after he notices that I didn't say anything.
I nod in response. But how much do I believe him after all?
This information can be vital for his campaign, and it might make him win if he tells people about it.
I think he might tell it. I don't want to betray his trust either.
But then again, I don’t want to betray my aunt’s trust either. She is my family. I must look out for my family.
"And you must not tell your campaign people, either. No matter what. This information doesn't get out until we are both in agreement," I tell him. It's not just me who can leak this information; it's him, too.
“Deal,” He extends his hand for me to shake. I extend mine, and we shake hands and make a deal.
But how long is this deal going to last? Knowing how much this information can change things for both of us, how long will we keep it hidden from everyone else? One way or another, one of us is going to slip out, and then all that will be left between us is a broken promise and broken trust.