The Mushroom Man
by Aaron Worley

There was town in the middle of the desert where the days glazed and the nights soothed. And with the town came families. Oh, how families flock to towns that glaze and soothe! These families thrived with children upon children with eyes wide and minds craving to be filled. But as it happens in families, priorities got made, and jobs and cash flow were in high demand. Raising the child became a duty left undone. So the townspeople, realizing the duty not done, cried out for someone to raise the children while they kept the cash flow flowing, and out of the bushes, or woodwork, or where ever unknown folks come from came the Mushroom Man.

"I will raise the children," told the Mushroom Man. "For it is one of the qualities I excel at more than most. With a small sum paid to me, I will see the kids grow up wise and pleasant, and even have a wit more witty than most dinner guests can supply."

The townspeople felt relieved that someone offered to raise their children while they were away keeping the cash flow flowing, and soon all of the children in town were under the care of the Mushroom Man. And the words he spoke during his spontaneous presentations came to life in the form of wise, pleasant, and witty children. The children wrote, the children read, and the children sang sweet tunes. They learned of Shakespeare, and Mozart, and Napoleon. They lectured Pluto, dissected Twain, and debated Sagan (the works, not the men, of course).

And the town thrived. It thrived with a culture not seen in a town in the desert for quite some time. The children performed plays of passion with some even of their own creation and not of the Mushroom Man's assistance. Athletic festivals occurred with all the children participating, not for competition, but for the shear joy of physical activity.

One day, however, a young boy came home to his parents beaming from another day of being raised by the Mushroom Man, and the mother noticed the boy's pants zipper was not zipped.

"Pull up your zipper, my precious one," the mother said with a motherly tone.

"I do not zip my zipper any more, mother," was the boy's response.

"Why do you not zip up your zipper?" the father asked with a fatherly tone.

"Because I don't feel I need to do so. I am not exposing myself, and I am not causing a scene. I feel comfortable with it unzipped although I do not preach or condone its practice. It was a self made choice made for me." The mother looked with a less motherly expression.

"What does the Mushroom Man think of your self made choice made for you?"

The boy beamed, "The Mushroom Man questioned it at first, but said I had made the decision with proper motivation and therefore could continue the practice of having my zipper unhitched."

In some families and towns, an unzipped zipper would not have mattered, but this was the town in the desert and this was a family with clout. Gossip soon ensued. The gossip then became discussion, discussion became debate, debate became controversy, and controversy called for a town meeting.

The town meeting consisted of questioning one man and his views: the Mushroom Man.

"What is to be done of the unzipped zipper, Mr. Mushroom Man?" the masses cried.

"Why, nothing," said the Mushroom Man. "Nothing at all. The children have accepted the little boy's choice to have an unzipped zipper. He does not flaunt it, or persuade with it, or even invite sexuality with it. The boy is very bright, and serious, and strong, and that does not change with his zipper up or down."

The masses grumbled as masses tend to do.

"So you will not force him to zip up his zipper to appease us?"

"I will do no such thing. Not for you, nor any group of influence."

"Then, we will be forced to take our children away from you to be raised a different way."

The Mushroom Man stood up at that comment and spoke with a hint of anger in his voice, and since he never spoke in anger, a hint was a lot for him. "I do not understand. You cried out for your children to be raised when you would not do it yourselves, and I have taken your charges with as much vigor as a man can have for a job. Are your children not wise? Are they not pleasant and witty as well? Do they not give you joy with their wonderful, different ways of looking at the world? You may take the children away from my raising if you wish, but be forewarned, the children will be raised one way or another."

The Mushroom Man might as well have been talking to a wall, for the masses had made their decision of what they were going to do before he even spoke (the way masses usually do), and they took their children away to be raised a different way. And the Mushroom Man disappeared the way people who are no longer desired by the public disappear.

The Mushroom Man was right, though.

The children did get raised. Some were raised by television. Others by videos. Some by gangs, while others learned from the streets in general. Some were raised wanting to do great things while others were raised just wanting to leave home. But all of them, all of them were raised. One way or another.


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