Town Crier // Village Idiot

There was an election in town!

They rarely held elections in Coopersville, but this one was for a special occasion: the people of Coopersville were in desperate need of a new town crier.

The current town crier was Ned Blanch. 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 with his beautiful wife, Helen.

//

When word got around that the Town Crier was set to retire, only one person applied for the job. That person 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.

Yes, Bobby Kaufmann was an ass hat and the only reason he was running for Town Crier was to have an excuse to scream. If Bobby could win the election, he would finally be able to do what he loved, and 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. Instead of manning his post in the Town Square and alert people of the big election, Ned Blanch was currently with his wife Helen en route to the Bahamas for two weeks of Mai Tai's, sunshine and sweet hubba hubba.

The only person who turned out to vote was Bobby Kaufman. And Bobby only remembered to vote because he passed the polling office on his way to the arcade and thought he smelled bacon.

//

Bobby won the election with one hundred percent of the voting populations approval. The people were a bit disgruntled.

Bobby began his first shift 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 and 47 seconds. It was actually kind of impressive. And if it had been another day/time/circumstance or dimension, every one would have been very impressed indeed. But it was 5 am on a Saturday morning in Coopersville and the townspeople were not impressed. In fact, they were irked to say the least.

It has been said that the way 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, they refused to hold doors open for one another, they said rude things under their breath, cut in line at the supermarket, and refused to help the old women across the street.

Everyone was cranky // No one had any fun

Meanwhile, Bobby was fucking canary in a coal mine, singing his god damn head of in non stop, non sequitur, non-sense. So by the time his shift ended at 9, it was dark and Bobby's throat was hoarse. 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.

His voice was so weak from screaming, he could hardly out speak a hamster with strep throat, let alone cry out to an entire village. He was outraged! After all this time and effort, he could hardly peep a squeak. 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 on the steps of the towns square and thought for 27 years. 27 years of thinking can do a lot to a person. As he sat and thought all those years, he was not alone. The people of Coopersville were there to keep him company. They came to show their support for Bobby and tell him it was okay, but mostly they came to talk.

People came to talk about all kinds of interesting things. They would sit and talk for hours, not necessarily because they had something to say, but because sometimes, you just need to talk.

When his voice returned and he was finally able to speak, Bobb 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.

...