A story of the meaning of life, as told by a scene set in a small, hilly and rather unlikely town
The Town
"Jack dear!", he hears from the top of a small hill. Jack, and his best friend Jill, had been out frolicking in the hills in and around their small town. They loved to fill their bucket from the town well, to run to the top of the nearest hill, and to pour the contents down one of the grooves that wore in the sides of the desire paths that crossed the peaks. Each new river cutting a slightly deeper groove for the next. Then one of them would toss the bucket down the hill and they'd chase after it, the bucket's slightly offset form providing a welcome break from the predictable nature of the water's flow.
The town of Probabilityville (population: ~= 1) was built in a forest covering a vast sea of green rolling hills. It was hard to see too far ahead, the trees and geometry both conspiring to force the town people to the tops of the nearest hill. Ambitious shop keepers had long participated in the same "battle of the biggest" forever played by men of their sort. Thicker and longer poles kept popping up in front of their shops, hoisting their pennants ever higher.
Jack and Jill ran down the hill to fetch their pail. Jack, in a rush from fearing the feel of his mother's slipper if he were tardy, prompty tripped and fell.
"Clumsy boy" Jill said to herself, deftly moving out of the way of her tumbling friend.
The Pressure
"I need you to go to Mr Hooper's for eggs and milk, and stop by Ms Rachel's butchers on the way back to pick up some chicken for dinner" his mother had told him as he ran through the door. "The Hoods are coming over for supper after their daughter's riding lesson, so I need you to rush right back".
Jack turned to Jill who'd waited for him outside. She gave him a sympathetic shrug and a look that said "Sorry, you'll make it through". They both know what she could be like, especially since the incident at her grandmother's last year.
Jack could feel the pressure of his mother's gaze behind him as he ran back out to Jill. "We need to be quick or we won't be back in time for Mom to start supper" he said, he didn't need to explain the "or else" that was implied, they both recalled the time of the famous chicken soup incident. Neither Jack's bottom, nor the road had come out of that episode unscarred. Jill still wouldn't go over there and Jack wasn't sure he could blame her.
The Path
Jack and Jill race up to the top of the nearest hill to plan their route. Finding your way around town was easiest from a place of elevation. The town had grown organically, zoning and planning permission a thing for "them city folk" most people felt. The streets, such as they were, were mainly desire paths with pretentions. The routes between major destinations worn near to stone in some places. The structure of the town fixed now by their presence. It was hard to start a business these days for newcomers, attracting the townsfolk away from their comfortable paths in the core took a lot of time and energy.
"We can take the path down past the library to Mr Hooper's" Jill said. "Yeah", Jack agreed, "and then we can take that new path down behind the school to Ms Rachel's". "It just opened up last year after the big rainstorm washed out that old hill that used to be back there", he went on, "saves at least five minutes in that part of the trip."
Jack checked his list one more time before they left. He wrote a number one beside "eggs and milk" and a two beside "chicken", wincing once more at the memory of the road.
List in hand, they set off. "I hate having chores", Jack complained, "it's so much nicer when we can just run around and do whatever we like."
"I don't know", Jill thought, "I kind of like having something to do. Besides, a stroll through town will be a nice break from all that running we did this morning. I'm exhausted."
As they walked, Jill was thinking about her friend Jack and how he was always wanting to roam free through the hills of their town, full of energy and wanting to explore. Not her, she thought to herself, she preferred a bit more restraint in her life. Her mother had spent much of her childhood reminding her of all the places in town that were off limits; the waterwheel behind the mill, the old log chute up by her Grandfather's hunting cottage, and where the men were working on the transmission towers down by the river, trying to bring their version of life to their quiet little town.
"Hey", her friend said as they neared Mr Hooper's store, "do you want to go the back way to Ms Rachel's when we're done here instead? The view from the top of the cliff is lovely when the sun is setting." There was an old path that led up a steep slope just a few hills away that had fallen out of favour after the rockslide, the villagers had mainly traded convenience for aesthetics.
"We can't, remember? You need to get this stuff back to your mom", she reminded him.
"Oh yeah, we'd better go then. Thanks Mr Hooper", he said leaving a few coins on the table and taking their goods.
"Say hi to your mom Jack", he replied.
The Problem
Rushing down the hill to the fork where the new road led away from the path to the cliff, his face fell.
"Road closed - Goose Cross"
"What?", he cried to himself, "why today?". Grosvenor, the town goose and resident grump, had decided to set up a new house for himself and the missus near the pond that now lay where the hill used to cross the path. Occasionally, he woke up on the wrong side of the bed.
"I guess we'll have to take the long way after all", he said outwardly delighted but inwardly starting to feel the pressure starting to build. "Maybe we should hurry a bit though".
They set off up the hill, with a bit more "pep in their step" as Jack's old Pa used to say.
Up the hill they pushed, and at the top allowed themselves a brief stop to admire the view of the sun which was just starting to kiss the horizon on her endless journey. As they set off again, Jill commented "it's a shame no one comes up here any more, it's beautiful". Jack replied "that's just the way of things isn't it. No one wants to come the old way any more now that the new road is open, it's just too much work to climb the hill"
On a Roll
Down the hill then, picking up speed. The path had long been worn into the ground here. With the hills rising above them on each side, a natural valley guided them down to Ms Rachel's and their final stop.
She met them with a big smile as they entered her store, "You guys look full of life. You been busy today?" Rachel had always felt that the day felt like it flowed better if you always had something to do. Some people had a knack of looking busy while they were standing around, but she knew that it was all show. After all, how busy could you have been if you've got nothing to show for it?
"Do you have any... chicken?", he asked, suddenly afraid of what might develop. "Alive or dead?", she replied, the look on her face betraying her preference.
"Definitely dead this time Ms", he said with a voice that betrayed his own fear, "the Hoods are coming over for dinner and mom's making pot pie"
"Here you go my dear", she said handing him his package.
"I still don't know what it wanted to do over there, and I don't think I want to", he replied handing her the rest of his coins. "I'll never look at an egg the same way again, that's for sure" he finished, giving a sideways glance to the dozen he'd just placed in his pouch.
There and Back Again
"Well there you are. That was quick!" his mother exclaimed as Jack and his friend Jill returned from their shopping adventure, "did you get everything?"
"It was harder than we thought it would be", his friend admitted, "but we got everything Mrs Horner".
"Oh, was Grosvenor out again?", Jack's mother asked. "Yeah, the babies must be close", his friend replied.
Jack had finished unloading the output of the job his mother had given them.
"Eggs, milk and chicken! Dead this time too", she calculated correctly.
"Jill's been helping me plan my routes better", he replied thanking his friend for her help.
"And occasionally reminding him that quickest way is usually the best", Jill chimed in, "and always the easiest to travel."
"Unless a wild goose is about blocking the way", Jack's mother added.
Dinner and a Move
"Kids, dinner's ready! Come to the table please." Jack's mom cried downstairs to Jack, Red and Jill, whom Jack had convinced to stay upon promise of attending Jill's Grandmother's with her next Tuesday for tea.
Jack and Jill took their seats near Jack's mom at one end of the table, while Red went to sit near her parents at the other. She was still visibly shaken from having come across Jack's Jack London book collection, which had accidentally been left on the end of his bed. When Jill had given him a sharp look, a feigned shrug to say "What? We have the same name." was barely enough to keep her from punching his shoulder.
Buck, the family dog, had been awakened from his slumber by the noise of the family and friends entering the room he'd made his own. Jack and his mom rarely used the formal dining room, so they'd placed Buck's bed inside the door, just on the other side of the wall from his food and water in the kitchen. A comforting quiet for an old friend.
As Jack's mom entered the room, carrying on upon a wooden tray naught but a gorgeous, steaming specimen of her famous chicken pie, a recipe handed down from her mother in law. Literally in her case, out the second story window of the old apartment building across the road that looked a bit like an old sneaker. She'd had so many kids and grandkids over at her house that fateful day, she'd barely been able to scribble the recipe down let alone hand it over in person. One of the kids had to turn it into an airplane and send it flying out the window for Jack's mom.
"It had been so busy... no wonder they'd lost the chicken", Jack's mom was thinking to herself, briefly lost to the world in memory of that horrible, horrible day.
Buck, who smelled something good, had stretched out into the doorway.
Later, when the dust had settled, when the walls had been washed and the floors scrubbed, when the fruits of Jack and Jill's busy day were safely tucked away in Buck's belly he thought to himself, "They always seem so busy but they never seem to get anything done. Look at them over there, they've been at it all day and they still haven't managed to eat." As he settled back into his bed, comfortably full, his own thoughts turned towards his next need.
And with that, he fell deeply asleep.