This is something I started writing, if anyone's interested

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This is something I started writing, if anyone's interested

Post by TaoJewGirl on Fri Jun 26, 2009 1:21 pm

Just Who Is Mayor Jack?

Of course, if you are reading this story, then you would be asking yourself that question,
wouldn’t you? Who is he? What is he mayor OF? How did he get that way? And other
such questions. “Aha”, you say to yourself, “but I’m asking the questions and you don’t
seem to be giving any answers!” Doesn’t seem quite fair, does it? And of course, the
FIRST rule of story telling is to be fair to the listener; well, not the first rule, but we’re
not here to get caught up in dangling verbs and sentence parts like some English grammar
test. Oh, no, we want the STORY, don’t we? So here you go…

Mayor Jack was called that for two very good reasons. One is that he was, of course, the
mayor. The mayor of what? Why, of Scarecrow Corners, of course. Can it be? You say
you’ve never heard of Scarecrow Corners? How about Pumpkindale? Or Turkeytown? Or
even, perhaps, you’ve never even HEARD of the Land of Fall?

Oh, my friend, it seems you’re in for quite a time. In order to explain what and who
Mayor Jack is, I must explain Scarecrow Corners; and in order to explain that little town,
I must indeed tell about the Land of Fall.

First of all, the Land of Fall is not really a ‘Land’, as most people would think of it. It’s
more of an island, just off the coast of the mainland. Now, there are two ways to get to
this island (assuming, of course that you are human and not of the winged or finned sort
of creature); that being by water and by train. Now, by water would seem to be the least
common or safe of the two. You’d have to deal with tides and winds seagulls and people
getting quite ill, being this is usually their first time onboard and captain, could you
please hand me that buck-… well, you get the idea. Coming to the Land of Fall would be
an adventure ; not the sort where you have pirates and parrots and skeletons singing odd
songs and the much-repeated sound of flapping sails, but still an adventure, nonetheless.
And you’d think that the train coming to the island would be safe, calm, comfortable, the
sort of drowsy ride where you’d wake up and stretch and rub the sleep out of your eyes
and ask your traveling companions, “Oh, are we here already?”, that sort of ride. But if
you thought that about the train for the Land of Fall, whoo, I’d not put much stock in
your picking the winners of horse races, or even frog races, for that matter. For, you see,
the train which comes to the Land of Fall is different. It’s quite old, for one thing, running
on steam and coal instead of the shiny electric trains that everyone seems to want to ride
on nowadays. And it’s only got three parts; the cab or engine, a passenger car, and the
caboose.

Now, which would you think to be the most important car? If you said the engine
compartment, you’re technically correct, because without such a thing, of course the
whole train won’t move, and lots of peoples’ schedules would be thrown off, and there
would be much grumbling and muttering under one’s breath and looking repeatedly at
one’s watch (which, as ANY younger person knows, will not Help The Situation, but
adults do tend to think differently, you know). But you’d be wrong.


And if you said the caboose, you’d be wrong again, because the caboose is there to…
well, it’s… well, it’s there to SOMETHING; no one knows just quite what.

But the passenger car, now, that’s a different thing entirely. For the passenger car is
usually filled with passengers. Seems logical enough, you say, but not everything in this
story (or most good ones, for that matter, is based on logic, or what people think should
be, but what is ). And passengers on the train to the Land of Fall (which we explained
earlier, was an Island Sort Of Land), are not your ordinary, run-of-the-mill, briefcase-
carrying, watch-tending sort of passengers, oh, no. They come with a purpose.

What’s the purpose, you might inquire? Oh, it varies from person to person; let’s take a
run through the car today and see.

First of all, there’s Mayor Jack. He had to head to the mainland to get something for his
wife for her birthday, which as any good husband knows (and Mayor Jack is indeed a
good one) must be something bought from away; it cannot be just something he
wandered down to, say, the local hardware store or even the odds-and-ends shop that old
Aunt Corrinne runs (even though the sort of Stuff that you find in Aunt Corrinne’s shop
usually can’t be found anywhere else). He must go to the mainland to get it. As to what it
is, and his purpose (which is not the present, contrary to what you might think), we’ll
come back to later.

The next passenger on the train today is Mr. Arthur P Gonfrey, the Third. Now, Arthur P
(as he likes to be called) looks the part of someone with ‘the Third’ after their name. He
wears those biggish, round wire-rimmed glasses, a serious (as if there ever was another
variety for him) mustache of walrus-inciting-envy proportions, a very ample waistcoat (to
allow for his very ample waist) and a newspaper kept tucked so carefully at The Right
Angle. This might lead a person brought up around other Arthur P’s to think him sort of
straight-laced, stuffy, not-so-good with children. But Arthur P’s known in the Land for
his love of a good story or joke, even if he is the one it’s being played upon, and the
twinkle in his eye should let any alert person know that here is someone who knows how
to play jacks, or climb a tree, or make a fort against The Ravening Hordes.

The last passenger in the car is in some ways the most mysterious. He doesn’t look all
that different from, say, a schoolteacher or perhaps banker, wearing a gray suit and tie,
and appearing to be truly interested in his newspaper, reading it through the monocle
perched squarely on the left side of his face. Ahh, but looks can be deceiving, can’t they?
For although the passenger car is indeed quite small compared to ‘modern’ trains
(holding only 12 seats at the moment) and Mayor Jack and Arthur P Gonfrey the Third
chose seats quite near the last passenger, and have had animated conversations along the
trip, any attempts to engage the mysterious stranger were met with but smiles and the
occasional shrug or nod. Only when the train moved over the trestle bridge heading
directly to the island itself, did the quiet passenger show any sort of emotion at all, and
that was the closing of his eyes, and shuddering the entire time the train was over the
water. However, as soon as the train passed over dry land again, he opened his eyes, and
went back to reading his paper, as if nothing outside the ordinary had happened at all.


But let us leave the mystery stranger and get back to Mayor Jack. He is, after all, Mayor
of Scarecrow Corners. Now, Scarecrow Corners is the largest village in the Land of Fall,
not to be confused with other Corner villages which have only one or two corners, and
not very good ones at that. It has streetlamps and even a round fountain in the town
square, usually used by horses as a sort of drinking fountain, and even by children on a
warm day to look for pennies and wonder whether their goldfish would like the pond
(most don’t). Yes, horses. There are no cars allowed on the Land of Fall, mostly because
it’s a small place and you can usually walk from one part to another within a goodly
amount of time, and also because cars tend to be rather smelly and cause people to rush
about fastly here and fastly there and no one is interested in doing anything fastly on the
Island, thank you very much.

There are other villages, of course, in the Land of Fall; it wouldn’t be much of a Land
with only one village, now would it? There’s Pumpkindale and Turkeytown and a few
others, but all are smaller than Scarecrow Corners, and do not fit into our tale today.

‘Jack’, of course, is not the Mayor’s real name, any more than the President’s is
‘Mr. President’ or a doctor’s real name is ‘Doctor’, but that’s his title, sort of like Your
Majesty for a queen or His Excellency, for a Duke, were we in some sort of tale of long
ago. So everyone calls him ‘Mayor Jack’ (or just ‘Jack’, if you are on more familiar terms
with him), and most people call him ‘Jack’, since he seems to be on good terms with
everyone on the island.

Now that we’ve explained who and what Mayor Jack is, perhaps we’d better explain
something about this Land he’s the mayor of.

The Land of Fall gets it’s name from a very simple thing; it is almost always fall there.
Oh, there’s a short enough summer (about a week), and there is snow at the ‘end’ of fall,
but that doesn’t last any longer than a few days, itself. Being of a different nature than the
mainland, there are, of course, different ways and things upon the island.

For example, there’s no ‘summer vacation’, since there’s no summer. “OH!” you reply in
dismay. But wait, don’t be too sad. For each class of students in the schools of the Land
of Fall take off an entire week for Halloween, and the same for Thanksgiving. Halloween
always happens on a Friday, and the schools always hold a costume party for it;
Thanksgiving is always on a Saturday, being that most of those who cook the
Thanksgiving meal need some time to prepare it. Now, they didn’t used to take off so
much time, usually just a day or two if that, and it was study, study, study till the words
seemed to leap off the page into your brain and fly around there like so many pigeons
disturbed by a cat. But the Mayor Jack, not one of long ago, not one of even short ago,
but this one, the present one, the current holder of that position, was very instrumental in
bringing about the celebration of Halloween as the children of the Land of Fall know it
today, with all the costume parties, candy, apple-bobbing, hay rides and all sorts of things
associated with it.


TaoJewGirl

Posts : 44
Join date : 2009-04-29
Location : Indianapolis

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