Town Crier

There was an election in town.

They rarely held elections in Coopersville, but this one was for a special occasion.

They were in desperate need of a new town crier.

Now since the invention of telegrams, television, telephone and telepathy,

The town crier was no longer necessitated.

But the people of Coopersville voted to hold the post as an honor to tradition.

The current town crier was Ned Blanch, and Ned was almost 97 years old.

He had served his long and fruitful life calling warnings to the Coopersville natives.

Ned would alert them of public gatherings, town news, fires,

and sometimes funny jokes or other things along those lines.

He was loved dearly by the people of Coopersville for being such an honorable and outgoing man.

But after 63 years of dutiful public service, Ned was ready to retire and spend the rest of his days drinking ice tea on his front porch and laughing with his beautiful wife, Helen.

//

When word got around that the town crier was set to retire.

Only one person applied for the job.

His name was Bobby Kaufmann, and he was the village idiot.

Every village has that one guy and in Coopersville, Bobby Kaufmann was that guy.

He shot spitballs at pedestrians and put whoopie cushions in the city councils boardroom.

One time he dressed in an astronaut costume and threw water balloons full of green paint from the second story window of the library

Yelling,

“Take me to your leader!”

As the passer byes ran for cover,

Mistaking the water balloons for alien space missiles.

And The Casserole Shenanigan, now, that's one wound that's still too fresh to salt.

The point is, Bobby Kaufmann was an ass.

And the only reason he was running for town crier

Was so that he would have an excuse to scream and no one could tell him to stop.

Because that was technically his job.

A Coopersfield local ordinance forbid any citizen from interfering with the Town Criers duties.

They kept the rule to honor the positions tradition

So now Bobby could do what he loved,

And, above all else, Bobby loved to scream.

//

Come election day, not a soul was to be seen at the polling office.

Turns out, old Ned, had taken retirement two weeks early and had neglected his duty as Town Crier.

Therefore, the people of Coopersfield had no idea that it was Election Day.

Ned was currently with his wife Helen en route to the Bahamas for two weeks of Mai Tai's, sunshine and sweet hubba hubba.

So come election day, the only person who to vote, was Bobby Kaufmann, the village idiot himself. And Bobby only remembered to vote because he passed the polling office on his was to the arcade. And he only walked into the polling office because he thought he smelled bacon.

//

When the results came back,

Bobby won with one hundred percent of the voting populations approval.

Needless to say the people were a little upset.

Bobby began his first shift as Town Crier at 5:07 on a Saturday morning.

The sun was a faint glimmer on the horizon

The air was still and silent

and even the rooster's were still rubbing sleep from their eyes.

Bobby screamed as loud as he could for as long as he could.

It sounded like this:

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGRREEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHAAAARRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHRRRRRRGGGGAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA................”

He screamed for six minutes.

It was actually kind of impressive.

And if it had been another day/time/circumstance or dimension,

Every one would have been very impressed.

But it was 5 am on a Saturday morning in Coopersville

And the townspeople were not impressed.

They say that how you start your day determines your mood for the rest of the day,

And that day, everyone was cranky.

People bumped into people without saying sorry

And refused to hold the doors open for one another.

They said rude things and cut in line

And no one helped the old lady across the street.

Everyone was cranky.

It was very much not chill.

Meanwhile, Bobby was fucking canary in a coal mine,

Singing his god damn head of in non stop, non sequitur, non-sense.

He told dirty jokes and blurted out whatever he wanted, 

However he wanted, 

Whenever he wanted.

He was very very loud

His history in musical theater had taught him how to project.

So when he spoke,

The stained glass windows of the butcher quivered like a wet cat

And the sidewalk shook with such force, you'd have thunk it was a jumping bean.

By the time his shift ended at 9, it was dark and Bobby's throat was hoarse.

But he was happy and satisfied from a such a hard days work.

He had earned his sleep.

//

The next morning, Bobby Kaufman woke before the roosters

And prepared himself for morning wake up call.

“aaaaaaaaaaa........”

He coughed pathetically.

The 16 hours of screaming had done a number on his voice.

His voice was so weak, he could hardly out speak a hamster with strepthroat,

Let alone cry out to an entire village.

He was outraged!

After all this time and effort, he was no longer able to so much as peep a squeek, let alone scream.

So he sat down on the steps of the town square and thought.

//

27 years passed.

//

Bobby Kaufmann has been silent this entire time.

He sat in the same place on the steps of the towns square and thought for 27 years.

27 years of thinking can do a lot to a person.

But as he sat there all those years he was not alone.

The people of Coopersville would pay him visits.

They brought him food and water and said hello.

They wanted to support him and tell him it was okay.

But mostly they just wanted to talk.

People came to Bobby to talk about emotions or strange predicaments or recipes and interesting fruits.

People told him about their days and their new sneakers and let him pet their dogs.

Sometimes people would sit and talk for hours.

Not necessarily because they had something to say,

But because everyone needs to talk sometimes.

So when his voice returned and he was finally able to speak,

He kept his words few and far in between, And spoke with intention.

He realized that he didn't have to scream to be heard.

And after 27 years of being silenced, he finally understood the importance of listening.

He got up, brushed the dirt off of his ego and left the town square.

He spent the rest of his years in a small wooden cabin on the outskirts of town.

He lived alone and off the land.

The villagers would visit him regularly to tell him of their lives and problems.

He would listen carefully, absorbing every word sponge like.

When they finished speaking, he would sit and ponder.

Sometimes he sat for minutes, other times years,

But when he responded, he spoke eloquent and precise.

With surgical perfection moving liquid fluidity.

The villagers loved him dearly.

He gave wonderful advice

and was a friendly and honorable man.

Bobby Kaufmann retired from his post at the age of 99 to walk the surrounding forests and make conversation with local chipmunks.

The people of Coopersville miss him dearly.

They even funded a sculpture of Bobby to place on the steps of the town square,

Where he sat and thought for all those years.

Next week, they are holding an election for the vacant post he left behind,

Yes, the people of Coopersfield are in need of a new Wiseman.

...