In the beginning was the Rock. And the Rock was with the Hills, and the Rock was the Hills. From this Rock came a man. A Young man. An Oleman. An Oleman Young. He came to bear witness to the Rock, so that all men through him might believe. He was not the Rock, but was sent to bear witness of the Rock.
But a monster followed the man. A great hideous creature named Tyler. Tyler was a ber, for he was missing the most important vowel. Tyler was determined to stop Oleman from having any fun, even the fun that protected the village from penguins. But in the week of the great Transference, Oleman Young relearnt what life without Tyler was like, and he was determined to relieve himself of the shadow ever cast over him. So one day Oleman invited Tyler out on a boat fishing trip…
– Excerpt from ‘The Tale of Oleman Young’, an autobiographical children’s story that had to be pulled shortly after printing
Legacy.
What is a legacy?
It’s planting chaos in a town you’ll never get to see.
Anchor Rock meant everything to Oleman Young. It was the place he was born, the place he grew up, the place of his first tree climb and the subsequent place of his first broken bone. The town forever left its mark on him. And, in some small way, he hoped he left his mark on it too. Most of all, in the spirit of the town, that rustling wind that calls to those deemed troublemakers and fun-havers, and whispers to them: “Do it. Just do it. Don’t let your dreams be dreams.”
This is the legacy that Oleman Young has left, in the hearts and minds of those he considered his big, extended Anchor Rock family. What more could he have ever asked for? And it is with this knowledge that he finally puts down his burdens and slips into the long night…
…and wakes up to the sound of Tyler banging on his door.
“Uncle! Uncle! The door is jammed. It’s time to take your medication. Let me in!”
“Hmm?” hummed Oleman as innocently as he could, slipping his legs off the bed and into his favourite satin slippers. “Oh, it’s just a little stiff. Put your back into it,” he called through as he tiptoed past the makeshift barricade and pulled open the window.
“Uncle! Uncle! I can hear you moving in there. Open this door!”
“Oh you’re nearly there!” he announced, dangling his legs out the window, bracing himself for the landing. “Just a little further!”
“UNCLE!”
This town would be utterly lost without Oleman Young, of that he was quite certain. He couldn’t rest now. And he never would! Not while this village needed its saviour! So first on the agenda today: devise a defensive plan for the latest in a long line of threats to the survival of Anchor Rock – those troublesome trout!
By William B.