Whatever his background, Brother Rec knew what he was doing when it came to laying out a new town, though there were complaints at the time about the amount of open space he insisted be incorporated into the town’s design. What was the point of leaving empty fields sitting cheek by jowl with the houses? Didn’t do anything but encourage mice and coyotes. Brother Rec spoke grandly of the need to retain a connection with nature, a close up view of the good Lord’s work here on earth. Folks shook their heads over this foolishness, bought mouse traps and took pot shots at any coyotes foolish enough to come within rifle range. As time passed, the mice and the coyotes moved on to less hostile environs and the fields became parks, giving the town a rural quality that was considered one of its biggest charms.

In the early 1890's, Brother Rec left Serenity Falls, taking with him five thousand dollars in town funds and the mayor’s sixteen year old daughter. The scandal rocked the community, not least of all because the mayor was more upset by the loss of the team of racing mules taken by the eloping couple than he was by the loss of his daughter. Then again, they were the finest mules in the county, if not in the state, and Millie Ann had been a pretty girl but not exceptionally bright so perhaps his reaction was understandable.

The town survived Brother Rec’s betrayal and, over the next ninety years or so, it also survived two world wars, a depression, earthquakes both major and minor and the advent of cars, television and rap music. Through it all, it remained pretty much what it had started out to be - a smallish town with an unusually strong sense of community.

There had, of course, been crises over the years. There was the flood of ‘32, when boulders the size of small cars washed down out of the foothills and came to rest in the middle of town. In the mid-fifties, two lions escaped from a visiting circus and citizens huddled inside their homes in fear of the ravening beasts. The lions, possibly confused by the lack of an audience, wandered the streets for a couple of hours before allowing themselves to be recaptured.

The sixties had brought the requisite amount of turmoil - long hair, blue jeans, even a sit-in or two. But all in all, Serenity Falls had weathered the years well.

Of course, there was a time, nearly twenty years back, when some citizens had thought the town might be brought to rack and ruin through the efforts of a single individual. Reece Morgan had been a newly orphaned ten year old when he came to live with his grandfather. For the next eight years, Serenity Falls had been considerably less serene than usual. If there was trouble, he was bound to be in the midst of it and, if he wasn’t actually caught in the act, it was only because he’d just left the scene.

When he left town the day after getting his high school diploma, there was a general sigh of relief. Most folks agreed that he was bound to come to a bad end and they’d just as soon he did it somewhere else. With his departure, Serenity Falls settled back into it’s usual sleepy contentment.

But, small towns, like elephants, have long memories. When old Joe Morgan died and left his house to his erring grandson, twenty year old transgressions were suddenly news again. Those who had known Reece recalled his wild ways and shook their heads over the possibility of his return but it was generally assumed that he would put the place up for sale as soon as the ink was dry on the title transfer.

Weeks passed. The lawn gradually turned brown under the heat of the summer sun and the house took on a dusty, unlived in look but the expected ‘For Sale’ sign did not materialize. Neighbors speculated on the possibility that the lawyers hadn’t been able to find Reece.

As summer crept toward autumn, the speculation grew more lurid. Reece was dead. He was in prison. He was an underworld drug lord and the Feds were waiting to nab him if he came forward to claim his grandfather’s house. Level headed sorts pointed out that, according to the news and made-for-TV movies, drugs were a highly profitable business. If Reece was head of some sort of drug cartel, it didn’t seem likely that he’d risk capture in order to claim a slightly shabby two bedroom house on a medium sized lot in Serenity Falls. California real estate wasn’t what it had been, after all. Besides, if the DEA or the FBI or any other set of initials was staking out the house, their presence would be known. Edith Hacklemeyer lived directly across from the Morgan place and there wasn’t a secret agent living who could slip past her sharp eyes.

Eventually, the speculation began to die down. There were complaints about the way the house was being let go; comments that its unkempt condition might effect property values. Edith commented acidly that it would be just like Reece to let the place go to rack and ruin out of sheer spite. He never did have any respect for property. Hadn’t he once ridden his bicycle right through a bed of her best petunias? No one could tell her that had been an accident! No one tried. And no one offered much argument to her assertion that Reece Morgan was trouble - always had been, always would be.

By October, having the old Morgan house sitting empty had begun to seem almost normal and most of the speculation had died down due to lack of information. But it revived quickly when Sam Larrabee’s brother, who worked for the electric company, told Sam that the power was being turned on again.

The word spread quickly. Ex-con, drug lord or walking dead, it seemed that Reece Morgan was finally coming home.