The Place Beyond the Western Border
This is a story that first dropped in my in 2008 , was forgotten but was recently remembered. A long forgotten passion project that I would love to have the honor of making into a feature film. I hope that one day I will be able to do so.
Inspired by many hopes and many dreams.
I wrote this while listening to the theme song to "Cider House Rules"
Prologue: This Is Nature
When Meriwether Lewis and George Clark set out for St. Louis to begin their expedition in May 1804, another expedition had already begun six months prior. This expedition was of ten people, from a small town in the middle of nowhere, who was told all their lives that they couldn't make it anywhere, that they would stay in the small Main Street town on Manassas, Virginia, that they would all die on the way to wherever it was they were going. These ten, proved them wrong, they died, the people got that part right, but in death they achieved their dream, and thereby accomplished what they set out to do.
This is the story of ten: Panchito Pistoles, Jose Carioca, Donald Duck, Daisy Duck, Mickey Mouse, Minnie Mouse, Cyril, Dewey, Huey and Louie. The first to take on the challenge of reaching the Western Border, but instead, they reached the place beyond it...
It began in 1803...
Days Until Lewis and Clark Depart St. Louis: 365
Manassas, Virginia. One of those towns that you hear about in love stories. Main Street town nestled in the heart of the state, who's main income was farming and horse breeding, who's mayor was a man who was a product of the previous generation, who's blacksmith was optimistic, who's tailor was fatherly, who's undertaker was the least morbid person in the world, and who's florist was beautiful. The man who farmed provided for the town, which consisted of twenty-seven people.
The most prominent person in the area was a woman by the name of Isabelle, or Daisy as she like to be called. The daughter of the governor, she visited the town regularly and considered the people of Manassas to be her extended family. They treated her as if she was their own that's for sure.
On this particular day, a Sunday, Miss Daisy walked down Main Street. She wore a white dress with a matching parcel.
Main Street, with shops on one side and houses on the other all made of wood from the forest, was a true example of frontiersmen craftsmanship.
The street itself was made of dirt, but it wasn't the light brown that you see up North, but the dark, rich, black kind that was moist and comfortable enough to walk around barefoot in. It was a beautiful place. The smell of fresh cut wood from the carpenter, the lavender from the florist, the ting and pang of the wielding tools from the blacksmith and his assistant. The children, who played hide and go seek and tag. The horse who whinnied in his stable and shook of pesky flies. The blue jays and sparrows whistled their tunes to each other while woodpeckers and robins began their work.
This was nature.
Daisy approached the blacksmith's shop. It was a simple awning with a forge, a grindstone, a workbench filled with work tools and a chair.
The blacksmith was Andreas, who preferred his middle name, Panchito, was a kindhearted rooster who was like the big brother to everyone. He was always there for anyone when you needed it, especially if you needed backup in a fight, for he was muscular and would have been the perfect bouncer at the tavern, but a boatman by the name of Pete already had that position so Panchito figured that blacksmithing was the next best thing.
At the moment, Panchito was busy working on a horseshoe. He pounded the hot iron into shape with a hammer. Bang, bang, bang.
Working shirtless and face covered with dirt, soot and a bit of ash for some reason, Panchito looked up, stopped what he was doing, and saw Daisy.
"Why if it isn't Miss Daisy," he said warmly, "how is your father?"
"Not well I'm afraid," Daisy said, "he's dead."
"Oh," Panchito said, "I-I'm sorry, I," he blushed a bit, like he always did when he was around her. Like every man always did when they were around her. "is there anything I do for you?" Panchito asked.
"Yes, do you know where Monty is?" She asked.
Monty, otherwise known as Donald, was Panchito's assistant at times when he needed one as well as the town's tailor. Donald also owned the only horse in town, Cyril.
"He's in his shop." Panchito said.
"Thank you," Daisy replied and continued walking down the road.
"Hey," the rooster said, Daisy stopped and turned back, "you look lovely today." Panchito said.
Daisy smiled in thanks and walked towards the tailor's. Panchito continued his work.
Donald was at the moment, on the porch of his establishment talking to a customer about business, which at times, seemed to be the only thing that Donald ever talked about. The tailor shop looked much like a cabin. Two windows in front, a door in the middle, and a chimney to the right side.
"Now Ebenezer," Donald said who was wearing a blue waistcoat, "I told you this yesterday and the day before, I'm very busy. I have other orders to attend to."
"But Donald," Ebenezer, who was described as being a Scrooge and wore similar attire associated with him said, "you're my nephew, and this is my favorite shirt we're talking about here. I need it tonight for a date with Miss Francis. Now please, do it for your uncle."
"Like I said Uncle," Donald replied, "I'll get to it once I fix Pete's hat, Panchito's shirt, Sartorius' cummerbund, Louis' hat, and Oliveira's cufflinks."
"Is there anything you can do though?" Ebenezer asked. He was desperate and pathetic.
"No, now, if there's anything you no longer require of me I must get back to work, I'm very busy."
Ebenezer reluctantly walked over in a mood that was sour and unpleasant.
Donald sighed in annoyance as he walked back inside, he didn't even notice his name being called.
"Oh Marty," an angelic voice said.
Donald turned around and saw her. He smiled, walked back outside, and met her in the street. "Oh Miss Daisy," he said, "I'm so glad to see you again." They embraced.
"I'm glad to see you too," Daisy replied, "my father says that I can stay here for the summer so would it be alright if I stay with you?"
"It would my an honor and a privilege ma'am." Donald replied with a bow and kiss of her hand. She blushed, he smiled.
As Donald and Daisy caught up with each other about their lives, Oliveira, better known as José, was the town's dandy, and the town's undertaker, who thankfully didn't get much business walked down the street in his Sunday dress. He was a parrot of respect, sensibility and wit about himself and his surroundings. If necessary he would defend you in a court until you were cleared of charges, put you to work if you so needed it and was the most optimistic person in town, save for Panchito who was always that way.
Jose's Sunday dress included a pair of long breeches, a linen collar shirt, a brown waistcoat with two gold buttons on the front and two small pockets on the side, a pocket watch chain dangled from his left pocket and a cigar box was in the other. A monocle was on his left eye also but he didn't need it, he just enjoyed the fashion statement and a pair of spats to complete the picture of wealthy gentlemen with a cheery, chivalrous disposition on the world and of people.
The parrot walked past Donald and Daisy with a wave and a smile and headed towards the tavern which was run and kept by Dukas, better known by his nickname, Goofy.
The tavern was small, a place of beer, wine, and good spirits. No weapons or violence were allowed, Pete saw to that.
As Jose entered, he looked around and noticed that the chairs that were around the six tables that occupied the place and counter, which had six seats were empty. The tavern had been open since eight in the morning. It was now one in the afternoon.
"What will it be Jose?" Goofy asked as he cleaned a glass for him.
"The usual." The parrot asked.
Goofy nodded and prepared gin with a hint of scotch and beer both of which were equally proportionate to the gin. The parrot had one shot and one shot only before asking for water.
"Did you hear that Miss Daisy is back in town?" Jose asked.
"Yes sir I did." Goofy said, "She stopped by on the way in, ordered herself her usual, told me about her staying here and asked where everybody was."
"Yes," Jose said looking around, "it does seem a bit empty," he laughed, "just like my cemetery."
"But not your church." Goofy said with his signature laugh. Jose laughed too for he was also the preacher.
"Your sermon this morning was good by the way, I don't think anyone told you that." Goofy said.
"Thanks," Jose replied, "most of it was improvised."
"You're kidding!"
"I improvise everything!" Jose said. "But, it's all true. Just because it's improvised, doesn't mean it isn't true."
"Right," Goofy said, as he poured another usual for the parrot, "on the house."
Jose smiled, drank the shot and for two hours, they talked small talk.
This was nature.
Wrote this while listening to this song: "Cider House Rules Theme"