COLBOURNE, ewan

[ewan colbourne]

ewan malachai colbourne

name: Katja
age: nineteen
gender: female
writing experience: aoens
how’d you find us?: with my x-ray vision
a favorite book: Circle of Honor by Carol Umberger
other character(s): Neil Balcombe, Julianna Sellenger, Lucas Murray, Alexia Kingston, others…


name: Ewan Malachai Colbourne
age: 25
citizen? upper or lower schooling?: citizen
previous residence: Coraki, New South Wales, Australia
eye color: blue
hair color: dark blonde
height: 6’0
distinguishing features: 3’’ scar along his right shin, birthmark on the back of his neck

four good personality traits

four bad personality traits

three quirks

important people

history

Not every story has a happy ending. Nor, for that matter, does every story have a happy beginning. If asked, Ewan Colbourne would never claim that this was the case in his own life, but he would certainly allude to the fact that first half of his childhood could hardly be considered perfect. He grew up with an acute sense of what it meant to lose someone, not to death, but to a fate that, at the time, seemed to be just as cruel.

Kasey Colbourne was a gentle man. He was soft-spoken and solitary, preferring to silently observe the world in which he lived as opposed to taking active part in it. He could hardly be considered to be rude or unfriendly, however. He was simply cautious, untrusting. And, as fate would have it, he slowly became a very desperate man.

Jessalyn Ingamells was nineteen when she met Kasey. She quickly fell in love with the sweet-tempered, observant man who eventually asked her to date him then just as cautiously asked her to marry him not one year later. Neither came from particularly wealthy families, but their parents has always made do and they had always assumed that the same would be true of them. And make do they did through those early years, even through the birth of their son three years into their marriage. By the time that Ewan was walking, talking, and feeding himself in the messy but still generally effective way of toddlers, however, his parents were beginning to struggle financially. Money was more carefully budgeted, all extras done away with, but business at Kasey’s small butcher shop only continued to plummet as time went on.

Ewan was four years old the day that the police showed up at his house. He remembers clinging to his mother’s skirt and staring at the men with wide eyes. The words that were spoken that afternoon blended together into an incomprehensible lump. His young mind could not comprehend the large words used in that particular conversation. It was only later, as he sat perched on his grandmother’s lap, that he heard the truth in Ewan-appropriate terms. His father would not be coming home for quite some time, he was told, for he had stolen a bit of money and had to stay away to pay it back. The full truth was, of course, more complicated, but the basic idea was the same. Kasey Colbourne, in a moment of unclear judgment, had made a decision. That decision, which was later referred to as “armed robbery”, resulted in a three year long prison sentence and a son that, no matter how he tried to understand, could not grasp the concept that his father would not be coming home in the near future.

Jessalyn moved herself and Ewan back into the small, three-bedroom house in which she had been raised. While his mother worked two different jobs at a bookstore and a café, Ewan spent his afternoons with his grandmother, helping her with little chores around the house and learning the names of the plants in her garden. Like his father, he had always been quiet and observant with a profound interest in the unknown. He listened attentively to the facts that he was told, storing them away for future use. In the same way, when his uncle Wes arrived home from school each evening and taught him to play netball and football, he learned eagerly. Wrestling matches were frequent, despite Lorrae’s constant scolding that Ewan was much too small to be playing such games with a teenager. Bumped heads and scraped knees accumulated, with Ewan almost always grinning and begging for more.

To be sure, Ewan received no lack of affection in the Ingamell household. However, he spent many solitary moments wishing that his mother was around more and wondering where his father was. More than anything, he wished to have life the way it had once been, in the happier moments of his earliest years. He wanted his parents back.

The winter of Ewan’s seventh year, Kasey was released from prison. Ewan remembers the day well, not because he was actually permitted to see is father, but because his mother spoke to him outside. He remembers watching from the front window, face pressed against the glass, attempting to listen to the hushed conversation between his parents. He was eventually pulled away from the window and ordered to work on his schoolwork, but he continued to wonder. When his mother came in not long after, face wet with tears, it became apparent that he would not be seeing his father again soon. However, he did not give up hope that things would once return to normalcy.

Restlessness began to overtake him by the time he turned nine years old. Though his uncle had moved out of the house, leaving Ewan his own bedroom, he felt increasingly more claustrophobic in the house he had never fully considered to be his own. He longed to see his father, though any mention of the man only earned him averted gazes and hesitant excuses. He became gradually more and more dissatisfied with these responses until, one day, he demanded in the same quiet tone he always used that he be taken to see his father. If not, he insisted, he would run away and never return.

Though his threat was hardly a valid concern for his mother and grandparents, the decision was made, after much deliberation between the three, that Ewan ought to be permitted to see his father. Though she claimed to still possess love for her (now ex-) husband, Jessalyn had also informed him that she could not—and would not—trust him again. This sphere had, naturally, spread to include Ewan. However, his newfound sense of independence pushed him to test the limits of this carefully limited territory. What he found in the end was a surprising amount of dissatisfaction. No matter how many hours he had with his father—carefully monitored for those first few months—they were never enough. Each departure from his father’s house left him longing for more. He quickly fell in love with the village where his father now lived. Unlike the coastal town of Ballina, where Ewan had been raised, Coraki was a small, close-knit community. People knew his father, not for his history, but for the fact that he ran the town’s newest butcher shop. He was known for his high-quality meats, quiet nature, and kind smile. By association, Ewan was accepted and loved. People remembered his name when he walked down the street or packaged meat for customers. It was easy, when he visited, to feel as though he belonged.

His father, though nearly as soft-spoken as Ewan himself, proved to be a wealth of knowledge and wisdom. He was incredibly genuine with his son, choosing to own up to his faults and past mistakes rather than twisting the truth with fabricated excuses. Ewan enjoyed his father’s genuine manner and the way that he spoke to him as an adult, acknowledging his opinions rather than writing him off as an inexperienced child. He occasionally even deferred to him, allowing him to make judgment calls in regards to his business or such things. It was essentially only an exercise, as Kasey’s experience took precedence over Ewan’s limited view on life. However, he did take care to fully consider his son’s opinion before making any final decisions. Ewan regarded his father with wonder and respect, both amazed and grateful to be treated with such respect.

He was eleven when, with carefully measured words and a well thought-out argument, he approached his mother and asked to permanently move in with his father. He had known, even as he spent months working out the details of his plan down to weekends in Ballina and divided holidays, that his mother would be hurt by this proposal. It was an unavoidable side effect, one that cropped up no matter how he arranged his method of presenting his desires. He had never anticipated, however, just how hurt she would be. After the initial onslaught of tears, Ewan was left with no way to anticipate what the answer to his request would be. He spent the next few weeks in constant worry and speculation, wondering if the tears themselves were his answer, a no formed in the silent sobs of his mother. It did not take long for him to wonder if, really, it would be better if the answer was no. His father knew nothing of Ewan’s plan; he could not be hurt if Ewan stayed, certainly not in the same capacity that his mother could.

He arrived home from school one afternoon not quite three weeks after the request had been made to find something he had never expected to see. His father sat on the couch of the living room beside his mother while his grandparents occupied the love seat to the right. Ewan stood in the doorway, shock written plainly across his features, and asked, almost nervously, “What’s going on?”

What followed could not exactly be considered a discussion, rather a laying down of rules. His proposal had been thought over and discussed amongst the adults, then, with a few minor adjustments, accepted. Following the end of the term, he would be permitted to move in with his father. Regular visits were scheduled, boxes packed full of Ewan’s meager belongings. At the end of the term, as planned, he moved to Coraki with his father, where he began a life that, somehow, seemed to suit him much better than the first.

The new term began, his first year of secondary school. His world became, once more, filled with various subjects—Maths, English, Science, etc. However, his attention quickly became diverted elsewhere, to a girl who, without fail, found something to smile or laugh at each class period. Her name was Camilla Buxton and Ewan had the majority of his classes with her and began to watch her curiously, wondering at the hidden secrets behind those smiles. She was well liked by both students and teachers, responsible but clearly fun loving and ever so slightly mischievous. He wondered at this careful balance even as they slowly grew to know one another. It began with a science project that they happened, by some twist of fate, to be partnered for. Two weeks, one detailed report, and a rather impressive model of a neuron later, they were well on their way to becoming friends.

Their relationship was far from simple, particularly as they grew to know one another better. Gregarious and impish, Camilla provided a stark contrast to Ewan’s own quiet and inquisitive nature. They were both, however, quite opinionated, which led to frequent arguments in their friendship, more often than not ending with Ewan turning and walking away. Camilla was one to always have the last word, while he was more inclined to withdraw from fierce arguments. This only served to frustrate her further, however. It often took days for further interaction to be made, almost always on Camilla’s part. Ewan opted for apathy, not going out of his way to see her until the moment she waltzed up to apologise and they both agreed to move on. It was a cycle, one that repeated a great many times over the years. No matter how aggravated either became, however, they remained good friends.

The years passed with little trouble. Ewan spent the majority of his spare time in his father’s shop, waiting on customers and learning as much as he could from the man, both in way of meat and everyday life. There was not a precise moment in which it was determined that Ewan would take over the business, merely a mutual, primarily unspoken agreement that this was the case. It did, of course, impact Ewan’s schoolwork, a fact which he cleverly disguised from his father. School exhausted him with its long lists of mathematical theorems and complex rules of grammar that he was certain he would never fully understand, much less use in everyday life. He had never been a particularly skilled student, but he had studied hard and allowed his grandfather to tutor him when necessary. Living with his father, however, he found himself uninterested in spending long hours on school. It seemed unnecessary and ever tiresome, particularly as his courses grew increasingly more difficult. He was too afraid to admit this, so his grades continued to slip until he found himself facing the very official terms: academic probation. He sat wordlessly through the lecture he received and nodded his head in slow agreement to tutoring. He was fifteen at the time, with two full years of compulsory schooling ahead of him—three, if he wished to receive a diploma. Really, he had no other option.

His first tutoring session began with a rather surprising twist. He had been expecting a fellow with thick-framed glasses and a penchant for taking apart computers, or perhaps a girl with braces who wrote essays for enjoyment. Instead, he found himself faced with a stunning young woman with wavy, black hair and smooth, tanned skin. Naturally, this was not the first thing that Ewan thought, nor even the second or third. Instead, he felt an overwhelming wave of embarrassment to be found in such a situation, then annoyance that it had to be her, of all people, followed by a very strong desire to turn and walk away, which he did. He had just gotten to the doorway when Camilla slipped in front of him, placed her hands flat against his chest, and told him to go sit down. After a moment of hesitation, he sulked over to the table where she had previously been sitting. After all, what could he say? She was an intimidating girl when she wished to be.

Tutoring, while providing him with less opportunity to work, allowed him to see Camilla in a different light. Whereas she had the tendency to argue on occasion or offer cheeky smiles, this was not the entirety of who she was. She was also brilliant, as he quickly discovered, and patient. He often found himself frustrated with the concepts neatly laid out in mounds of textbooks, ready to give up entirely. Without fail, however, she always brought him back on topic and explained the principle in a different way until he understood it. Slowly, with much hard work, his grades began to improve and, along with it, his relationship with Camilla. To his surprise, where he had once found annoyance in regards to her, he gradually began to find a blossoming of something more. Affection, certainly, but even something beyond that. It took him months to give name to the feelings and months more to gain the courage to admit these feelings to her. It was no small surprise to him when she admitted with her customary smile to feeling the same way.

The night that he asked Camilla’s father for permission to date her was perhaps the most intimidating and disappointing night of his life. The two of them had discussed it intensively beforehand; she had even given him tips for dealing with her father’s loud, seemingly demanding manner. However, nothing could have prepared him for the stony glare of the six-foot-seven, broad-shouldered man who demanded to know why he wished to date his daughter. He left that night, not with a yes, but with an, “I’ll permit it when you’re ready.” He had honestly no idea what this meant.

Ready came nearly two years later, when Ewan was beginning to become quite exasperated with the situation. He and Camilla had continued to remain friends, naturally, teetering on the edge of something more as they both waited for approval. One night, in late October of his final year of secondary, he found himself wandering the town aimlessly, frustrated by this predicament. He ended up at Camilla’s house, intending to ask her to walk with him, but found himself face to face with Mr. Buxton instead. What followed was a mixture of pleading and ranting, Ewan demanding to know what he had to do to prove that he cared about Camilla. The only answer he received, as mystifying as it was, came in the form of a back slap and a hearty, “Son, you just did.”

Their relationship was hardly perfect. They hit many small bumps along the road. However, they continued on, happy in their insatiable need and slightly dysfunctional love for one another. Over time, they began to find a balance. Ewan’s solitary manner was balanced by Camilla’s outgoing one, while her tendency to bite off more than she could chew, so to speak, was aided by his cautious nature.

They married just after Ewan’s twentieth birthday, while Camilla was still only nineteen. As time went on, they only grew closer. Although still far from perfect, their relationship went on quite contentedly. As his parents before him, Ewan had little to offer in ways of finances. He did quite well managing his father’s business as Kasey himself stepped back slightly to allow his son to take the reigns of the business. Financial struggles were limited, though not entirely nonexistent. They made do, certainly, and even managed to begin saving and investing some money in case of emergency. They lived, they learned, and both felt that, in marrying one another, they had made the best decision of their lives. More than anything else, they were happy.

By twenty-three, he and Camilla were considering having children. They had been married for just over three years and both felt ready to move on with the next phase of their lives. However, various attempts left them both confused and aggravated. Nearly a year passed with no result, and the couple began to wonder if one of them happened to be the problem. It became a point of contention between them, Camilla wanting them both to see a doctor, and Ewan pleading to wait just a bit longer. These things occasionally took time, after all… didn’t they?

One night in early spring, Ewan took her to a nice dinner—something that took a bit of saving and penny pinching to afford—to offer an apology. What ensued, however, was an argument that began at dinner and spread to include the car ride home. It had rained earlier then stopped, leaving the area covered in a misty haze. Ewan drove in silence, hands gripping tightly to the steering wheel as Camilla shouted at him and he responded with soft, biting words. Distracted as he was, he didn’t see the other car until it was too late.

The other driver had been in the wrong, he was told when he awoke in the hospital with a broken arm and number of scrapes. The woman, driving a large SUV, ran a red light, barreling into Ewan’s small car in the process. With that singe action, as irrevocable as the desperate decision his father had made twenty years prior, Ewan found himself empty, frightened, and truly alone fort he first time in his life. He realised, as fate took from him the love of his life, that he had previously had no concept of loss after all.

Months passed in a blur of condolences, looks of pity, and whispers that he tried to ignore as he walked down the streets of Coraki. He ventured out only to go to work, then travel back home. Even his father had little success in getting through to him as he retreated further and further into himself. Almost more than the loss, he could not stand the pity. If people would only allow him to move on with his life, he thought at the time, he gladly would. Instead, each day served as a reminder that Camilla was no longer a part of his life. The whispers and stares did him no more good than the meaningless apologies, words formed into incomprehensible lumps that he began to ignore, not even stopping on the sidewalk when people spoke to him. More often than not, as he walked away, he heard the words, "That poor boy," being uttered as his neighbours shook their heads with the pity that he could not escape, no matter how he tried. He began to feel as though he were being slowly and painfully suffocated. More than anything, he simply craved peace. It did not take long for it to become apparent that Coraki would give him no such opportunity.

It was Kasey’s idea to send him to France. Their primary supplier of game hens had recently gone bankrupt, leaving them to have to rush to find a new one. When a supplier in France made an offer, Kasey suggested that Ewan be the one to make the trip. This he did with nothing more than a resigned expression on his face and a backpack full of clothes, money, and his passport on his back. He had no heart left for curiosity.

Three days into his trip, Ewan found himself captivated with the country. He had been staying in a town not an hour from the coast and was surrounded suddenly by people who knew nothing of his story and offered him the warmest welcome he had received in his twenty-four years. He took a few extra days to survey the nearby towns and villages, finding himself primarily taken by a coastal town known as Saint-Michel. It only took one phone call for things to change once more. As Kasey heard his son’s voice, the lightness and curiosity in his tone that had been missing before, he determined that there was only one thing to do. He told Ewan to stay where he was, find a place to live, and expect his belongings to arrive in the mail soon. He didn’t have to be told twice.

Ewan spent the next few months making himself a new home in a land where he knew nothing of the people or customs. He felt lighter without the weight of pitying stares on his back. He felt that, although his heart ached with each breath and he missed Camilla more than anything else, over time he might be able to move on. So he did what he could, finding a market to work at until he could save the funds to open his own business. For now he remains, slightly less lost but nowhere near being found. There are times that he wonders, as he stares out over the sea, if her spirit will find him here in Saint-Michel, France. And, when it does, will it mean he is captive, or free?

if you could be anywhere, where would you be? “With Milla.”

character’s play-by: Jacey Elthalion

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[headmaster.]