The place was a ghost town. Despite its breath-taking locale, Appaloosa Plains had become a shadow of what it once was. The residents of the "sleepy ranching town" had drifted off, leaving behind shells of homes, crumbling remnants of Victorian architecture and empty streets.
The city tried to save its existence by offering a funding assistance program for repairs, but the program collapsed when it was discovered that nearly all the buildings were contaminated with asbestos, had unsafe lead piping, needed all-new roofs or their foundations completely redone. Historical building legislation delayed construction work to such an extent that people opted to sell their homes to the government at a loss so they could move away from the red tape and renovation nightmare that their neighborhood trapped in.
Now almost no residents were left and there was no city government to speak of. Appaloosa Plains was nothing more than a mess that needed to be cleaned up. Luckily, cleaning up messes was something Jada Walker did best.
She drove slowly along the empty, crumbling streets until she saw the drab Victorian manor she was looking for. Workers had already set up safety barriers and brought in the dumpsters. She looked up at the building: rotting wood, patchy shingles, peeling paint. By some miracle it seemed the majority of the windows were intact even though they hadn't been boarded up. Still, was this really the place the Governor saw potential in?
The work crew for the day pulled up in two trucks. One parked behind Jada's car in front of the property and its two occupants hopped out. They pulled two barriers out of the way so the other truck could pull into the driveway. Their supervisor stepped out of this second truck and walked up to Jada. "You must be Miss Walker," the older man said. "I'm Jim. Nice to meet you."
"You as well," Jada glanced over before returning her attention to the manor.
"Quite the project the Governor has in mind," Jim said. "Refurbishing this place alone within his two-year time frame won't be easy. Especially not when so many other workers will be tied up with demolition for the other buildings."
Jada sighed. "He does love his projects.... Show me what we're dealing with."
"Keep unloading the truck and then start clearing up around the coach house so we can see what'll need to be done there," Jim called to his team.
"Will do, boss," one man replied.
"Is this really the place?" the other man asked his coworkers in a hushed voice. "It's a dump, to put it lightly."
"It must have good bones," the woman sighed. "Or at least I hope it does, since our tax dollars are going to be funding its repairs."
Jim unlocked the manor's front door. "After you," he smiled, stepping out of the way.
Jada pushed open the door and was not pleased with what she saw. What was likely once a beautiful foyer with arched entries into the main hallway and kitchen was practically a pile of rubble.
'What in Watcher's name have you gotten us into, Governor?' she thought.
"Don't worry," Jim chuckled. "This is the only wall that's this bad... I'm hoping most of the problems are aesthetic. There's plenty of water damage, rotting wood and peeling paint and wallpaper, but by some miracle there were no traces of asbestos in the entire place, and the piping is mostly copper."
Jada stepped over the rubble and through the archway into the kitchen. "I'm shocked all the glass is intact," she commented. "Even in the archways.... Nice that the ones into the dining area match the kitchen entrance."
"A lot of original details like the archways match throughout the building," Jim replied. "And there's only a few panes that will need to be replaced, mostly on the second floor and in a few of the bedrooms."
"Some original - or at least old - furniture left around as well, I see," Jada said as she peered into the dining room.
"Yeah, several dining chairs and a couple china cabinets down here that just need to be sanded down and refinished. Speaking of which, floors seem in good shape under all the grime. A good sanding and refinishing should deal with most of the scratches and the water damaged or rotting pieces can be replaced as needed."
"There certainly are a few layers of grime," Jada said, the disgust evident in her voice as she surveyed the kitchen.
She was good at cleaning up messes... but it usually didn't entail cleaning up literal filthy, grungy messes. Still, if overseeing this experiment in revitalization was what she needed to do to move up, she'd get the job done.
"We're going to take out this half-wall and replace those counters with a proper island with bar seating," Jim explained. "All new appliances, of course. But we do want to salvage as many of the antique wood furniture as we can."
Jada nodded.
"One bedroom on this floor?" she asked.
"Yeah," Jim said. "Through the dining room, we can get back to the main hall."
Jada proceeded though the dining room. "More stained glass in here. Hopefully these details make a difference," she sniffed.
"On the left there is a bathroom. Door on the right is the bedroom, which has a small ensuite. Was the matron of the boarding house's quarters back in the day."
"And this room here will be the sun room?" Jada asked, stepping into a small corner room. Two of its walls had multiple lead-framed windows.
"You got it," Jim said. "As you can see, the lead framing for the glass is losing its integrity, so we're just going to tear all these windows out. Assuming the structure is sound enough to do so, we'll replace those two walls with floor-to-ceiling windows."
Jada nodded. "Well, let's see what we're dealing with upstairs."
Jim toured her around the second floor, which had a few bedrooms and bathrooms.
"This space will be used as a communal office or library type space for the tenants, since it has access to a large balcony that overlooks the backyard. Like I said, some broken glass on this floor but nothing too bad" Jim explained. "Hauling these metal bed frames and musty mattresses out of here will be fun, though," he added sarcastically.
"And the third floor is the last, correct? No attic?" Jada asked as she headed up the stairs again.
"Correct. There's a small access door and we'll just be filling the attic space with insulation. There's no space to stand up there, or even crouch, really. So we'll just use it to reduce the heating and cooling bills."
"Hm, kichenette up here is in even worse shape than the full kitchen downstairs," she sighed and looked around. "And another missing door."
"More stained glass in that bedroom, though," Jim replied. "We're going to see if we can save the original painted sink and cabinets in here, but we'll see how that goes. 'In bad shape' is probably an understatement."
Jada walked through the door frame into the bedroom. Jim was right - two stained glass windows in impeccable condition, they'd be a rare find in Bridgeport. To her right, she noticed a door. She glanced back at Jim.
He smiled. "Small balcony off this one."
Jada went over to the door. It took a bit of force, but she managed to push it open. She stepped out onto the balcony and Jim followed.
The harsh reality of what Appaloosa Plains had become was all the more striking from up here. The former glory of the ranches by the river struggled to show through their crumbling structures and broken fences. What they could see to the west was no better; collapsing roofs and crumbling walls were evident.
"All of those will be demo'ed," Jim said. "Riddled with asbestos and lead, not to mention their structural problems."
They stood in silence for a few moments.
"It is a bit sad, though," he added. "My parents used to take me here to watch the riding competitions as a kid. It was a cute little town."
Back on the ground, the workers were marveling at the sorry state of the street as well.
"How does it even get this bad?" the woman asked solemnly, to no one in particular.
One of the men walked towards the street to get a better look at some of the houses. The closest one's windows were mostly boarded up, and one of its corners had completely crumbled.
"Probably best people moved away, though," he said quietly. "It's a good thing no one was living in these homes when they started really falling apart, or people could have been really hurt."
"My ma said they started to run out of funding for services," the other man chimed in. "Once the services started to go, the employees who ran them started moving to work elsewhere. For a while that was fine, but people got tired of driving into Bridgeport for simple things, they were shopping locally less and less... you know the rest," he shrugged.
"All these houses are slated for demo?" asked the woman, turning to him.
"And all the ones down there, towards the river," he replied. "And all the buildings over there," he waved his hand lazily towards what was once downtown.
Their colleague nodded in agreement. "This is the only building that isn't contaminated."
"Rather than go through all the historical building paperwork for all of the others, they'll be photographed for local records and torn down. They passed a special bill to allow it, so it'll all be gone soon."