John Baptiste. [powered_otaku]

        It's one of those perfect summer days, one that isn't too hot, too humid. Right after a hard, cold rain, that cools everything down and leaves just enough moisture in the reserves for when the sun shines high over head. Salome's Grandparent's house sits on three acres of land, enough for a great back and front yard, but not enough to be considered country. Far back away from the road, it rests on top of a slight incline, that is just right for sledding when the snow falls in the winter. Two stories tall, it's painted white with blue shutters, that get repainted every two years, a task that her grandfather complains about, but always does proudly. There is a front porch and a back porch, maybe some years ago they were connected, but it seems someone had gotten rid of it years before.

On the back porch there is a swing, it's chain rusted and when it rocks back and forth it squeaks. Not an annoying squeak, but steady and simple, it's sound changing with the back and forth movements. It's one of the things on grandpa's to do list, but never seems to get done. There are four old apple trees a few feet away from the back porch, in the spring their leaves turn dark and about mid-summer the married couple talk at great length over what is the perfect time to pick the fruit. In the end, their largest issue is what to do with the apples they don't eat, turn into preserves, or bake into pies. The setting is idyllic, and for the most part, so is life in the Snyder house.

But like most things the exterior does not match the interior.  The Snyder's have an almost rabid hatred for anything to do with Liam Collins, and who can blame them?  The man took away their daughter, and through lengthy court custody battles, have left them with very little money to survive.  Despite the fact that they can't get a third year law student to look at their case, they still hold out hope that they will one day have their daughter back.  It's painfully obvious, and a weakness that is easily exploited.

       This morning, Salome and Jonba sit on the back porch with finger paints and large sheets of paper.  An old book with pictures of paintings sits propped up on the railing.  Salome is trying to convince the boy to make a painting like the vase of flowers in the book.  The boy needless to say is having none of it.  He is much happier smacking his multi-colored hands down on the paper, or just rubbing his chubby fingers around in circles in globs of paint.  Painting is just not a talent that the Collins possess, clearly.  It doesn't seem to matter, the boy is laughing and having a great time of it.