Wyatt kept walking down the path, and the closer he strolled towards the center of the town the more elegant his view was becoming. He passed by a lot of nice houses, and even waved at some people lounging in their backyards. He had been walking almost a half hour since meeting Willy and George, and the path suddenly curved into a street that walked him right into the center of town. It was a very lovely looking community, as the streets were clean and orderly. Wyatt was strolling around and getting a feel for the place and was enjoying his tour until he noticed a small crowd of people gathered on the outskirts of what looked like a public park. Curiosity got the best of Wyatt as he was unable to resist an urge to investigate. As he walked closer to check things out and get an idea of what was going on, it became clearer to him by the signs and the chants that there was a protest going on. The people were upset about something and shouting rather loudly to make sure their gripes were heard and eventually acknowledged. Wyatt even started to think this was a feminist protest as most of the people at the protest, possibly all of them, were women. One of the women there noticed he was watching and stepping closer and stopped shaking her sign to walk over and meet him halfway.

“Good afternoon,” she started, looking him rather harshly. She looked a few years younger than Wyatt, but the look she was giving him was something that he was used to seeing from his mother when she suspected him of being up to no good.

“Hey there,” Wyatt said, giving a half assed wave.

“What brings you over here?” the young lade demanded, getting right to a point.

“Do I need a reason to be here?” Wyatt countered. “This is a public park, right?”

“I get that,” the lady said, looking mildly annoyed, “I mean why are you approaching our protest. You’re not a cop or something, are you?”

“God, no.” Wyatt said, “Definitely not.”

“Then why are you snooping?” She asked again.

“Curiosity mostly,” Wyatt honestly replied, “Whenever I see anyone marching and chanting, I just feel an urge to find out what it’s about and learn.”

“Oh, that’s interesting,” the young land said, as her back seemed to come down a little bit from there. “I can tell from your accent that you’re not from around here.”

“Nope, I come from far, far away.” Wyatt confirmed with a smile, “I just happen to be town on family business.”

“I see,” the young lady continued, “Well, allow me to satisfy your curiosity: we are protesting the lord of these lands, and demanding representation by more modern means. That being the election of public representatives that can be held accountable.”

“Okay, that is interesting,” Wyatt replied, aware he was copying what the young lady said only moments ago. “But isn’t it a tad disrespectful?”

“How so?” she asked.

“Well, the man is dead.” Wyatt explained, “Doesn’t it seem rather harsh to protest the man’s funeral?”

“He’s not the one we’re protesting,” the lady denied, “We loved Lord Crawford, but his passing is why we’re taking the streets. Just because he was a great man and did well by our town, that doesn’t mean the next jackoff who inherited his title is going to be even half the man he was. We’d rather not roll the dice on someone we don’t know taking over a position that is supposed to last for the rest of his life.”

“Don’t you mean his or her life?” Wyatt asked.

“No,” the young lady said, “We know the bloke taking over is a man. He’s not even that old and is probably some loser that will run this town into the ground.”

“What else do you know about him?” Wyatt asked, as his curiosity was now getting to him even more. They were here to protest him being the new lord, so he wanted to know how much they knew about the person taking over.

“Not too much,” she answered, “Just how old he is and his name. Trust me, he sounds like a real jerk.”

“I see,” Wyatt said, as he paused for a moment. “I’m sorry, but I didn’t catch your name?”

“I’m sorry,” the lady said, as she put her sign and extended her hand to him, “I’m Margo Quinn.”

“A pleasure to meet you,” Wyatt said taking her hand, “I’m Wyatt Harris.”

It took a few second for Margo to realize what was going on. She had just told Wyatt that she knew the name of the next lord, so if that were true than his introduction should have rung a few bells inside Margo’s pretty head. He stood there and waited for a moment, giving her all the time that she needed to connect the dots.

“I’m sorry,” Margo said, “Did you say Wyatt Harris?”

“I did,” Wyatt said, grinning back at her because he appeared to be sandbagging every person that he introduced himself to this day. “I’m just arrived in town to attend the funeral of my great uncle, the late Lord Crawford.”

“Oh, shit.” Margo said, as she just realized who she was talking to.

“Well, that seems to capture the spirit of the moment,” Wyatt said, trying very hard not to laugh at the irony of their meeting. “This is a very lovely protest you have going on here. I’m totally in favor of people being heard whenever they have an issue they’re passionate about, so keep up the good work.”

“You have no problem with this?” Margo asked, “We’re protesting you!”

“Yes, you are.” Wyatt confirmed, “And you’re doing a fine job!”

“Why aren’t you upset?” Margo asked.

“Why should I be?” Wyatt retorted with his own inquiry. “All you know is my name and my gender. While your suggestion of replacing the lordship with elected officials might have merit, there’s nothing here for me to be directly offended by. To paraphrase my favorite rapper; if I don’t know you personally, I can take it personally.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Margo inquired.

“It means you’re currently arguing from a position of ignorance,” Wyatt explained, “I can assure you that once everybody gets to know me, you’ll have many more reasons to legitimately take to the streets.”

“I don’t know,” Margo countered, “I’m gaining some good insight right now.”

“That’s the spirit!” Wyatt said, giving her a playful tap on the arm. “You keep up the good work!”

Margo looked back at the young man that was talking to her and she honestly was speechless and didn’t know how to respond.

“It was a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Quinn.” Wyatt said as he started to walk away. “You have yourself a great protest!”

“Okay,” Margo managed to finally say, “Thanks?”

Wyatt was determined to walk away while he could but couldn’t help but look back at the young lady as he did so. She was so cute to look at, even when she was angry, and she was still looking at him as he turned back. Rather than be embarrassed to be caught looking back at her, Wyatt chose to wave back and kill her with even more kindness. That seemed to infuriate her even more as Margo picked her sign back up and resumed chanting with the rest of the ladies there, even louder than she was before. Wyatt couldn’t help but laugh to himself as he walked away from the protest. He wasn’t more than hundred feet away from the people waving their signs about when the same car that had brought him to town from the airport cut around the corner and came to a screech halt beside him. The back window rolled down and Gerald had a panicked look on his face as he was addressing Wyatt.

“My lordship,” He started, aghast to see what they just drove past. “You need to get in here immediately!”

“Why?” Wyatt asked, not sharing his anxiety.

“Those people are protesting the new lord!” Gerald replied, still shocked to even see something like that going on. “Someone let it out you were coming into town today and organized this event to rattle you on your first day here!”

“Do I look rattled, Gerald?” Wyatt asked.

“No, you don’t.” Gerald answered, as he finally noticed the young man’s demeanor “Why not?”

“Because regardless of who runs this place,” Wyatt said, “Peaceful protest is essential for any town, city, or nation to have a stable and functioning civilization. I come from a land where peaceful protest is a considered an inalienable right. Let them have their protest, it’s not bugging me in the slightest, and you shouldn’t let it get to you as well Gerald. They’re just scared.”

“Of what?” Gerald asked.

“That Lord Crawford was one of a kind,” Wyatt concluded, “And there’s a good chance they might be correct.”

At this point some of the women were talking amongst themselves and pointing in their general direction. Either Margo had let them know who he was, or Gerald himself was giving away their position.

“But I’m also a believer in not pushing one’s luck,” Wyatt said as he stepped into the car. “This might be the right time to make our exit, Eugene!”

“Roger that, my lord.” Eugene said as he drove off hastily.

“You never get a second chance to make a first impression,” Wyatt said as he looked at the protesters as they drove off. “They seem like nice people who are just worried about who is about to take over a position of power over them. If I had no idea who was taking over, I’d be kind of worried about it too.”

“I suppose that fair,” Gerald conceded, “But I guess that makes it our job to prove them wrong and make them feel more comfortable with the idea of who the new lord is going to be.”

“I’m not sure that’s possible,” Wyatt said, “I’m not comfortable with the idea yet myself, so I doubt they are either.”

“Give it time, my lord.” Gerard insisted, “Things will ease up with time, so we should focus on the memorial and funeral for the time being. Let’s give Loonsburg a chance to say goodbye to the passing Lord before worrying about the new one.”

“That’s a good idea,” Wyatt said, “But we need to circle back to this later and try to nip it in the bud.”

“Fair enough,” Gerald said, “We’ll nip it when the time is right, my lord.”

“After years of listening to people yell at me over the phone,” Wyatt added, “I’ve learned that it’s sometimes best just to let people get things off their chest and just yell it out. Once it’s out of their system, it’s easier to talk about it and find a reasonable resolution for all involved. Let them vent, and we’ll find an answer later.”

“Very good, my lord.” Gerald said, smiling back at him. “You’re looking rather good in the position from my perspective. Give yourself some more credit.”

“Duly noted, Gerald.” Wyatt replied, “I’ll try.”