In the town of Millersville
in West Texas, rain was so scarce that if it were all to come at once, it would
struggle to make a Chihuahua fear drowning. And yet, through poor decisions,
desperation, or just sheer bad luck, more than a few farmers found themselves living
there, tilling the earth in a yearly life and death struggle to produce crops.
It so happened that one year
a man who called himself Mister Fairplay came to Millersville with an offer. It
was in the middle of a town hall meeting about a drought that he showed up in a
plain Stetson and dusty rancher’s coat, his face a collage of five o’clock
shadow and thousand year stare. “I can get you anything you need,” he said without
introduction, his voice as level and dry as the arid plains. “Anything at all.”
“Well, obviously not
anything,” said the town manager. “I mean, it’s not like you can bring the
rains.”
“Anything at all,” he
repeated. “But you as a town gotta decide what your one wish is.”
“And what do you want in
return?”
“Nothin’ more than the
satisfaction of helpin’ good people.” He turned to leave. “When you’ve made up
your mind, I’ll be in Maude’s Diner. I hear she serves a good pie and cup o’
joe.”
There was much debate among
the citizens of Millersville. First, what to make of this madman. Verdict: he
seemed friendly and harmless. Second, what to make of his offer? Verdict: presuming
he was no devil, it was crazy, but what harm could come of making a request?
Third, what to ask for. This was less easily settled. Rain, obviously, most
said. But how much rain? And when? If they could already commit to the
absurdity of asking a man to bring rain, argued Henry Jessup who ran Jessup
Hardware, why not ask for a way to control the rain. To bring it when needed
instead of some one-and-done affair? Verdict: they would ask for a blessing to
be put on a tree that stood in the middle of town. When they watered the tree,
the rains would come. If the tree didn’t get watered, the skies would be clear.
Just as he said, they found
Mister Fairplay at Maude’s enjoying a slice of rhubarb. He nodded to their
request, gave the town manager a “Just as you ask, so it shall be” and a pat on
the shoulder, paid for his pie, and left town, never to be seen again. He didn’t
even do a strange magical dance or waving of hands around the chosen tree,
which made a few townsfolk feel a little cheated.
- Originally mailed to Ross Cowman of Olympia, Washington. Ross creates games for Heart of the Deernicorn, including the award-winning (and breath-taking) Fall of Magic. If you're into role playing games and storytelling games, you should definitely check it out.