The Men Behind the Curtain

During a break in the weekly Thursday evening poker game in Zuckerman’s barn…

“This town is dying. We need something to draw people here, especially with all the kids now going off to college or to the big city,” Homer Zuckerman said with a hint of desperation in his voice.

“What do you suggest?” asked the mayor.

“I don’t know.” Zuckerman said.

Clive had an idea. “Well, if we were to have a town festival, I could bring some of my flies to display.”

“Clive, when was the last time you went fishing?” the mayor asked.

“Well, not all fishermen like to fish, Mayor. Some of us just enjoy making the flies.”

“You have to catch fish to be a fisherman!” Homer said a little too harshly.

Clive looked hurt. The mayor cut off any reply. “We certainly need to catch fish… human fish!”

“How we gonna do that?” Clive asked.

“I don’t know either,” the mayor conceded. “We need something special… Something that people will want to come and see.”

John Arable joined the conversation. “My daughter says that runt pig I gave her is special.”

“You think people are going to come here to see a runt pig?” Homer asked dismissively.

“Well, I don’t know.”

“What’s special about it?” asked Clive.

“I have no idea.” John really didn’t.

“Well, how are we going to convince people to come here to see a special pig if we can’t even say what’s special about it?” Homer asked sarcastically.

“I didn’t say it was special. I just said she thinks it’s special.”

“So, we’re just going to tell people that it’s special and they’ll come to see it?” Homer pressed.

“I don’t know!”

An awkward silence ensued.

The attorney, Howard, decided to fill it. “Maybe the pig doesn’t have to be special. Maybe we just have to convince people that he is.”

“Huh?” John didn’t understand.

Howard leaned in toward the others. “A little while back, some men in a little town called Dayton, Tennessee were mulling the exact same issue we are.”

“And?” The mayor was interested.

“They decided to create the appearance of a controversy in order to bring some attention to their boring town. See, they talked to a science teacher in town and got him in on it. They passed a law making it illegal to teach something that the teacher wanted to teach. Then he taught it. So, they arrested him. And they made a big deal out of it, so much so that the whole world got interested in it and flocked to the town.”

“What did he teach?” Clive was curious.

“Evolution.” Howard said.

“Well then… he should have been arrested.” Homer asserted self-righteously.

From the nods and sounds, it seemed there was general agreement among the attendants. Except for the lawyer: “Come on, boys, stay focused.”

“So, we get Darryl Mims to teach evolution?” The mayor was even more interested.

The lawyer just stared at the mayor for a minute. He looked around at the others and saw they were waiting anxiously for his next word…

“NO, we don’t get Darryl to teach evolution! That’s already been done. We gotta come up with something new!”

“Like what?” Homer was also interested.

Howard looked at John. “John, you haven’t rebuilt your barn since it burned last year, have you?”

Embarrassed, John said, “No, I haven’t had the money.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to imply anything. But, if we pull this off, I think you might be able to build that barn.”

Homer announced, “I’m in!”

The mayor chastised him, “Homer, you don’t even know what he’s gonna say yet!”

“I don’t care what he’s gonna say! If John is going to make enough to build a barn, I’m in!”

“Well, that’s just dumb.” The mayor said to a couple of nods.

Howard looked around in the barn, then looked at Homer, “Homer, you got a place to keep that special pig here?”

John got defensive. “Now, I didn’t say it was special!”

The mayor chided him. “Hush John! Go on Howard.”

“Homer?”

“I reckon I could move some of the animals around and make a pig sty right outside that door there. He’d have a little yard to himself.”

Howard leapt from his chair and went to the door. After surveying the yard, he asked, “You got many spiders in this barn?”

Homer was indignant and seemed to be offended. Any dummy knew that an old, rundown barn was full of spiders. “Howard, you know that’s a stupid question.”

Looking into the rafters, Howard asked, “Well, do you?”

“A bunch,” Howard said louder than he needed to.

Howard looked at Clive. “Clive, do you think you could make a spider web out of that fishing line you tie your flies with?”

Clive said honestly, “I ain’t never tried that.”

“Could you?”

“I reckon.”

“Could you put letters in it?”

“Letters?”

“Yes, like spell words?”

“Letters in a spider’s web? From fishing line?”

“Yes, a real fine fishing line.”

Clive pondered for a minute, then said, “I don’t get it.”

The mayor jumped in. “I don’t either. What are you getting at Howard?”

“It seems to me that us telling people that a pig is special would not get anyone out here, but a spider telling people that the pig is special might bring people here from far and wide.”

The mayor was even more interested, but just as confused as the others. “How you going to get a spider to tell people that?”

“I’m not, Clive is.”

“Huh?” Clive was genuinely confused.

“Howard, you’ve lost your mind.” The mayor’s interest waned.

Howard looked around at all those present, and said, “No. Actually, hearing myself say it out loud makes me feel better about it.”

John was thoroughly confused. “Letters in a spider web? That Clive is going to make?”

“Exactly!” Howard said excitedly.

“I still don’t get it.” John sat back down in his chair, resigned to never understanding what the smart guys were talking about.

Howard started gesturing. “Listen, we set the pig up in a sty right here in Homer’s barn. We put a spider web up in that corner of the barn door that has letters that says something about the pig. We get Richard over at the newspaper to come out here and do a story about it and then put it out on the wireless, and presto, people come here in droves!”

John desperately wanted to understand what was going on. “What’s a drove?”

“Lots.” Homer said to John, then looked at Howard. He was warming to the idea but sensed a problem. “But it’ll be obvious that it’s fishing line, won’t it?”

Howard walked outside the barn door. All of the others quickly followed. “No, that’s the best part. We’ll have to make sure the web is at least thirty feet from any place where a spectator could stand. That looks doable here.”

“Why would we do that?” John asked.

Howard turned to face the others. “When I was in college, I took a drama class. One of the things I learned was the Thirty-Foot Rule.”

The mayor asked on behalf of the others, “What’s that?”

“In a theater, if someone cannot see the details of something from thirty feet away, you can do all kinds of things. Whether it is a set, a costume, or a prop. You can have all kinds of flaws or mistakes in any of those things, but if you can’t see the problem from thirty feet, it’s not a problem.”

Homer’s face indicated a light bulb going on. “And no one would be able to tell the difference between spider web and fishing line from thirty feet away, is that what you’re saying?”

“Exactly!”

John got caught up in the excitement. “What’s it gonna say?”

Howard’s face showed wheels turning. “I haven’t got that far yet, but we’ll come up with something.”

The mayor started grinning big. “I like it.”

John felt left behind. “I still don’t understand it.”

“Well, I do. I’m in!” Homer announced. “John, all you need to understand at this point is you gotta get that pig to come live here in my barn.”

John shook his head, “Fern will have no part of that.”

“What if it was her only option?” Howard asked.

John kept shaking his head. “You know my wife ain’t gonna to be okay with me getting rid of that pig either.”

Homer had an idea. “John, isn’t it about time to be slaughtering a spring pig? Even if it is a runt?”

“There ain’t no way I’m gonna slaughter that pig! My wife and daughter would have my hide!”

Howard tried to help. “You don’t actually have to slaughter it; you just have to make Fern and your wife think you’re going to.”

“Why would I do that?” John was again genuinely confused.

Homer spoke up, “John, Fern could come and visit the pig any time. Besides, you don’t have a place for a full-grown pig.” He looked at Howard, “Don’t worry, I’ll have that pig at my place by next weekend.”

That concerned Clive, “You mean I have to have the letters done by the weekend? How can I do that if I ain’t never made a spider web with letters and I don’t even know what letters to make?”

The mayor extended his hands. “Now everybody simmer down. Howard is going to figure all of that out.”

The pastor finally spoke up. “Gentlemen, I’ve been quietly listening to all this scheming and plotting, and I must say I am becoming quite uncomfortable with it all.”

The mayor was annoyed. “What’s wrong with the scheming and plotting?”

“It feels unseemly. Asking John to mislead his family, creating a false impression that a spider is writing words in a web. Dishonesty is what you’re proposing to do. In Proverbs, we are told by the Lord that bread gained by deceit is sweet to a man, but afterward his mouth will be full of gravel. Even the Ten Commandments tells us not to bear false witness against our neighbor.”

A very awkward silence ensues. Most of the participants are dejected. But not the lawyer. “Pastor, isn’t it true that it is getting more difficult to get people to come to Sunday service regularly?”

“What does that have to do with…?”

“And it would seem to follow that with less fannies in pews, the offering has likely been suffering too.”

The pastor just stared.

“So, it would seem logical that if more people come to this town, especially if word of a miracle in a spider web was located here…”

The pastor cut off the rest of whatever the lawyer was going to say. “Well, when you say ‘miracle’… who am I to stand in the way of the work of the Lord?”

Howard smiled.

The pastor needed clarification. “I do have one concern, though.”

“What’s that?”

“This seems like a lot of work for one Sunday offering.”

Homer pounced, “No siree Bob… if this does what we hope it does, we just keep changing the letters!”

“Won’t someone see you doing that?”, the pastor asked.

“Not on my property they won’t! I have the thirty-ACRE rule here!”

Howard smiled amid scattered laughter.

“What about your family, your workers?”

In a soft voice, Homer said, “Pastor, with all due respect, you tend your flock and I’ll tend mine.”

After some brief, deep thought, the pastor responded, “I believe the Lord will be pleased.”

The mayor, happy to have avoided that hurdle, pressed on. “So, Howard, what’s the first letters going to be?”

“I told you I haven’t gotten that far yet.”

Silence.

John offered, “Well, I guess that runt is going to have to be some pig to make a miracle happen.”

“That’s it!” Howard exclaims.

Startled, John asked, “What’s it?”

“Some Pig!”

They all looked at each other for a moment. Then, Clive said, “Well, I guess I better get busy.”