Brass Skies Vol. 1: The Battle of Chesapeake

The Wondrous Imaginarium at the Newport Sanitarium

Maureen would sit on or near the window seat, absorbing whatever light the sun would grant that day while sketching or painting designs on paper, canvas, wood, or whatever else she could find. Her face and hair were almost always smeared from where she would absentmindedly brush her jet-black hair out of her face.

Michael would focus on the wood. One of the only residents allowed to have a knife upon them at all times, one never quite knew that his deft hands would carve next. Like Kaitlynn, he would often share his creations, giving them out to other children or staff members during meal times. In fact, the sanitarium proudly displayed many of his pieces in cases in the library and office waiting rooms.

Wire, paper, and cloth were more Kirstin's forte. A scrap of cloth and a bit of wire in her hands could quickly become a clothes hanger, a lampshade, a sculpture of a bird, or almost anything else. Unlike the other girls, she kept her hair in a perpetual ponytail so that it stayed out of her way.

Violet would jump back and forth between many things. Sometimes she would play the flute or violin, other times she would make the flute. Occasionally she would paint with Maureen or care with Michael. The only thing constant with Violet was that she was always doing.

Watching them work, one would almost think they were like other kids except for two things. Firstly, instead of playing games or attending classes, these children were always creating. Secondly, these particular children never talked. Never as in not even once during their entire stay at the sanitarium. Not amongst themselves, not to teachers, not even when giving one of their creations away.

None of the staff knew why. None of the orderlies, nurses, doctors, psychologists, psychiatrists, janitors, tutors, or even the cooks could offer a theory on why these particular children never talked. They all agreed that the children were certainly bright enough. The creations they made were proof of that. It was almost as if by tacit agreement, these particular children had decided not to speak. This is what made them Special Cases.

Nor could the staff get these kids to stop creating and do other things. There was a time when they had tried. Every time, they would try to drag one of the Special Cases away from their projects to try and entice them to play games, to go outside, to do something more childlike. Each time the child in question had become violent to the point where the staff was afraid the children would hurt them or they themselves would accidentally hurt the children.

So they stopped trying because despite the run-down dreariness of the place, and the reputation of sanitariums in general, no one wanted to hurt the children. Even the truly violent or self-harming children in the other parts of the sanitarium that had to be physically restrained were only done so with reluctance and all the care that the staff could reasonably give.

No one worked here that did not love children. The head of the Newport Sanitarium, Doctor Rheinhelm made sure of that. A father and grandfather himself, Doctor Rheinhelm treated every resident like they were his own and ensured each member of the staff did too. Even though funding was tight and he might not be able to maintain the grounds the way he would have liked, or repaint the aging rooms, he did have full control over the staff and he would be damned if he let someone work even for a day who did not share his love of children and who did not meet his high expectations for their care.

So it was by his command the Special Cases were not forced outside to play or forced to attend lessons like the other kids. He spent part of his own time to solicit donations for materials and if the donations were too sparse, he would use money out of his own pocket to secure materials so that the Special Cases always had materials to work with.

Such was life at the sanitarium until the day IT happened. No one who was there at the time could really describe why what started out as any other ordinary day suddenly became something so extraordinary but everyone who was there all agreed they knew IT when IT happened and that they could feel the difference in the very atmosphere.