The picturesque, upper New York town of Bradbury is memorable only for its nice views and long, freezing winters. It's the sort of town that adults describe as quaint and wholesome, and most youths describe as an isolated black hole that will suck you in for life if you don't get out as soon as possible. It's all subjective, of course, but even adults find it hard to argue that it can get pretty boring on a Friday night. Sure, there's the odd pizza joint or bowling alley, but once they get to a certain age, teenagers avoid these like the plague; and the owner of the one bar in town seems to know everybody in town -though that's not a very difficult task- and trying to get a fake ID past him only results in a ride in a police car and an awkward conversation with the parents.
Given the above, the one place that teenagers seem to gravitate towards most is the aptly named Bradbury Mall. With an arcade, a movie theater, an impressive food court, and almost twenty stores ranching from clothes to comics, Bradbury Mall is busy every night of the week and packed out on weekends. The cool September night on which our story starts is no different. Adult pushing strollers with sleeping toddlers, gangs of kids too young to be high schoolers but finally old enough to enjoy the freedom of hanging out without parents hovering constantly nearby, teenagers talking and laughing in twos and threes and fours; for the most part, it all looked the same as any other mall would look on any other night.
One aspect, though, was notably different; dotting the crowds were people in yellow tee-shirts with 'The Sharing' printed across the chest. There were men and women, teens and adults and the elderly, people from every walk of life whose only shared qualities seemed to be their shirts and the wide smiles they wore. Though just less than one year old, some one hundred and fifty of the town's four thousand or so population was already a member of the group. Every Friday for months they'd been at the mall, handing out colorful brochures and recruiting.
Though their persistence and almost eerily cheerful manners annoyed and even unnerved some, even most who didn't intend to join could understand the appeal. It was all about togetherness, doing community service, and enjoying the company of friends and family. When they weren't helping out around town and doing food drives, they were organizing camping trips and cookouts, all without any added fees or requirements. Particularly active members were even promoted to the somewhat secretive 'inner-circle'; though, even few in the group knew exactly what being in it entailed beyond gaining extra leadership roles within the organization.
Of course, even the members of The Sharing would be clearing out soon. It was nearly ten at night, nearing curfews for most. Those without curfew would only have until eleven before the entire mall closed. For most, the night was very nearly over; however, for five teenagers, it was only just beginning.
Given the above, the one place that teenagers seem to gravitate towards most is the aptly named Bradbury Mall. With an arcade, a movie theater, an impressive food court, and almost twenty stores ranching from clothes to comics, Bradbury Mall is busy every night of the week and packed out on weekends. The cool September night on which our story starts is no different. Adult pushing strollers with sleeping toddlers, gangs of kids too young to be high schoolers but finally old enough to enjoy the freedom of hanging out without parents hovering constantly nearby, teenagers talking and laughing in twos and threes and fours; for the most part, it all looked the same as any other mall would look on any other night.
One aspect, though, was notably different; dotting the crowds were people in yellow tee-shirts with 'The Sharing' printed across the chest. There were men and women, teens and adults and the elderly, people from every walk of life whose only shared qualities seemed to be their shirts and the wide smiles they wore. Though just less than one year old, some one hundred and fifty of the town's four thousand or so population was already a member of the group. Every Friday for months they'd been at the mall, handing out colorful brochures and recruiting.
Though their persistence and almost eerily cheerful manners annoyed and even unnerved some, even most who didn't intend to join could understand the appeal. It was all about togetherness, doing community service, and enjoying the company of friends and family. When they weren't helping out around town and doing food drives, they were organizing camping trips and cookouts, all without any added fees or requirements. Particularly active members were even promoted to the somewhat secretive 'inner-circle'; though, even few in the group knew exactly what being in it entailed beyond gaining extra leadership roles within the organization.
Of course, even the members of The Sharing would be clearing out soon. It was nearly ten at night, nearing curfews for most. Those without curfew would only have until eleven before the entire mall closed. For most, the night was very nearly over; however, for five teenagers, it was only just beginning.