Cue Spaghetti Western music. Fuge A Cavallo
Your shoes are worn, cloths tattered from wear and tear. Your hair gently scratches your face, desperately trying to keep the dirt from penetrating. It is dry and itchy from the months of dust devils and sand storms. You see a tumble weed roll across in the background. The empty streets start to fill, reluctant townsfolk gather.
Spurs clank on dusty boots as they gather in the streets. The shuffle becomes the percussion of the score. The townsfolk crowd on the porches of the local store and saloon. Even the horses are neighing with nervous tension. Something is about to happen. The wooden doors swing open and the sheriff walks out, confident, yet with a single drop of sweat gently streaming down the side of his face- close up. Reassurance for the villagers, yet we ask ourselves, does the sweat represent apprehension or heat.
Then the camera pulls back, your vision is directed to a quiet crowd, all staring in the same direction, all leaning in, to be witness to, the arrival of a new visitor.
The clop, clop of horse hoofs is all we hear- the din of strings and orchestra becomes almost nondescript. As music fades into the noise of life.
The wind blows up dirt, a few more tumble weeds speed by, children hide behind their mothers, peeking around their skirts to see. You hold your position, poised and steadfast- yet full of anxiety and doubt. You are a part of the huddle, yet you feel like the sheriff.
The visitor is seen-wide shot- in the distance, slowing riding into town. No sign of threat, no sign of danger. The townsfolk remain stalwart- stationary, anticipating news, anticipating action. You cement next to the barkeep, ready to retreat if needed.
The sheriff steps out into the open.
The huddles remain compact and somehow appear to fold in even tighter. A shield protecting the town. The visitor stops short. Climbs down off his horse, walks forward. The shush gets loud, then absolute silence takes over.
Even the breeze settles. There is a stillness. A calm. No one seems anything but curious, hoping for answers. Hoping for hope.
But they dig their feet into the dirt, ready to take off at a moments notice.
They are used to taking shelter. They are used to the huddle, the "should and responsibility". They are used to the 'fads' that ride into town, then leave as soon as they have run their course. They are used to the "you should" and "you have to" - they understand the why.
There seems to be movement, a few children shriek with fear and the visitor walks forward, slow steps, deliberate steps, clank, clank, clank of the spurs echoes, as they connect. The friction palpable- the metal scratching, a bore into the townsfolk, as a warning to retreat. The sheriff remains, hand on his holster. The visitor seems un-phased and continues to approach.
Shuffling feet, doors slamming, shutters closing. Children whimpering. Horses pulling at their ropes, hooves digging in the dirt. The town is becomes deserted, faster than it was filled. Everyone in the shadows, except the law and the traveler.
They stand yards apart- each still, each resolute. The tension mounts. Cue Spaghetti Western music. It builds, taking over the soundtrack. Eyes peer from behind darkened corners, from slits in closed shudders.
The sheriff stands at the ready, the visitor holding his stance. They are at a stalemate. They are armed and ready. And....the screen fades to black. No end credits. No -To be continued. Just a dark screen.
The should, the fad, the huddly- is on going.
We need to listen to the experts, we should do what is best for everyone. Masks are not a fad. They are the sheriff. They are the shudders. We might be huddling in theory alone, at least we should be, but this huddle means cooperation and compassion. It means looking out for one another and protecting one another. It means standing behind the research and science. It means thinking about the next visitor.
Cue music, this time a hopeful tune- one heard at the ends of uplifting films- it is one you know. Can you hear it? There is hope and grace surrounding us. There is an end to this, if not a complete one, there will always be more visitors. But if we strengthen our resolve we can conquer sometimes by retreat and other times by huddled masses.
Screen fades in.....slowly to a familiar scene ...... insert image here.
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