The Wizards of Dunley

There had been a picnic there every summer and it seemed that most of the people from town had come. Dr. Stemple had greeted all of them; it seemed that he had to touch all of them, a handshake or a hand on the shoulder. There was a large striped tent where the food was set out on long tables. Wooden folding chairs were all around and everyone sat and talked to catch up on what had happened since the last gathering. The people of Dunley were excited when a doctor had come to their town. There was no hospital and to finally have some medical care in the same town would be a great relief to all of the families that lived there. The doctor had started the picnic to introduce himself and to learn about the people in the town. He knew that there would be some that would never go to a doctor even if they needed one so he learned who they trusted so that a “home” remedy could be passed on to them. The people hadn’t noticed that shortly after the doctor opened his office no one ever needed to go there. Oh there were some people, who always needed to see a doctor, and Doctor Stemple always had time for them, but no one was really sick! Time had been good to Dunley and few had noticed how unusual it was that no one ever got hurt. Tom knocked on the door and went right in. The house wasn’t polished as it had been years ago when he came here with his father. Dr. Stemple sat in a tall chair where he always was. The room was a mess, papers were everywhere, the Dunley Press, and he kept up with what was going on through the paper now. A clock on the mantel ticked too loudly for its size, it looked like an old clock tower from a city hall with faces on four sides. There were strange marks on the walls; it looked like they had been made with colored chalk. This had started some time ago, when walking had become more difficult. It wasn’t surprising that no one came here; few people show the wear of years as much as he did. He couldn’t stand up straight anymore and his hands had become twisted making the once graceful movements only visible to those that had known him from long ago. Tom said “I have been thinking about my father lately, I know he came here a lot, can you tell me anything about him?” I knew you were coming, the time is close, I used to be able to see farther ahead but … he stopped in mid sentence and looked around the room as if someone had come in, then he pushed himself up from the chair and went to the corner where there was a broom and moved it to the opposite wall, next to some blue chalk marks. He limped back to his chair apparently in more pain than when he got up, and sat back and smiled to himself. Your father has a story, but I can’t tell it to you now, I’ll tell you what I know before you start your journey. Journey? No one ever left Dunley, Tom thought. They talked about people who lived in other places but no ever went there. I don’t have any plans to travel! I ride my bike to Quigley’s store because I don’t have bus money. I won’t be going anywhere. Dr. Stemple began to speak as if Tom had spoken out loud. There was something different in his voice, he always spoke in such a reassuring tone, but today there was a hint of something else, he seemed a lot less confident. The journey has already started; it began today when you came here. I can’t see the end of it, I have hopes, but I don’t know. I need you to do something for me on your way home. Go by Mrs. Sands house and see how she is doing, she used to clean house for me but doesn’t get around much anymore; she might need something. She should be out getting her mail about the time you get there. Don’t forget; it’s important. I’ve got some things to do today; I hadn’t realized it had started. The old man’s gaze fell on an old book on the table in the middle of the room. With great effort he rose from the chair and moved to the door. He never said goodbye but he always went to the door. Be sure to stop by before you leave. I’ll have something for you. Oh, and be kind to someone on the way home, it will help you later.