Mister Alexander was a gentleman like none other. His manner was smooth, his words appealing, his dress cordial, and he moved with a certain finesse and grace, a certain je ne sais quoi. However the gentleman in question was a mystery to the good folk of Bodington, and when his untimely demise arrived, most people couldn’t help but wonder where or what or how this somewhat special, yet unobtrusive man had met with such an unfortunate accident. Naturally the local authorities were suspicious that one so well known by the people in the small town, were able to provide such little information about him. He was after all relatively sociable, amiable, approachable. However not one person knew anything about his past nor had had the curiosity to enquire as to how such a remarkable fellow such as himself, would have come to settle in the quaint little village of Bodington, nestled in the Many Mountains.

Upon further investigation it became apparent that Mister Alexander had left no will, no instructions, no testament as how his fortune was to be distributed, and indeed it was a remarkable weight of coin which the Prefecture acquired from Mister Alexander’s modest estate. Eventually the coin disappeared, probably eaten up by the establishment itself. The Man profited from Mister Alexander’s demise, but no could conceive of any possible motive nor method. And yet one cannot help but think at how unlikely an event it would be for a ten ton boulder to randomly fall seemingly out of an un-rocky mountain, onto a moving vehicle at precisely the same moments, once again proving that two objects cannot coexist in the same place at the same time. By the time the bureaucracy finally reached the crash site, the destructive force of fire had already taken most of what was once a polite, elegant young gentleman with no past or identity.

His estate was seized, and almost immediately auctioned off along with his belongings, for the investigation led no where at all, and since Mister Alexander kept his abode in tip top shape, no renovations were made. Mister Alexander’s belongings sold well. The people of Bodington acquire quality coats, canes, weed pipes, ornaments, objects pertaining from cultures not known to them. A wandering tinker gypsy troupe which came by every year identified most of the objects as hailing from a country far across the Great Sea. Most of the villagers scoffed at this idea.

The Gypsies were sneaky buggers not to be trusted, since things did have a manner of disappearing when they were around, however they did bring to the villagers wonders not seen in any nearby land. And since they had to date not been implicated, the lull of some of their extraordinary wares and shows was far greater than the fear of theft. It was however agreed that the Gypsies could not be trusted, and that the Great Sea went on forever and ever so that a sailor could be birthed upon his craft and his offspring, and his offspring, and his, and his, and his, perish from ripe old age before the craft would rot, and its cargo drown. They knew this because Patrick the Potent had indeed dared the adventure and returned twenty years later with no news. What was affirmed was that the winds made the return trip far quicker that the going, for Patrick had sailed nineteen years and eight months before perishing from a broken piece of mast to the noggin, which resulted in his crew turning back. His men were surprised to discover, four months and a day later that Gaia was once again in sight. Since everyone knows that sailors are incapable of deception and masters of their craft, no one sought to question the validity of their claims.

But alas, it seems to be that I have entirely digressed from the matter at hand, and gone off into the telling of another tale.

Mister Alexander’s sparse remains were cremated shortly after forensics determined that the boulder had landed directly on top of the late gentleman killing him instantly and sparking up a fuel in his petroleum tank. His ashes were scattered on the four winds, so that his soul could wander in any direction it pleased before ascending to the beyond, and just as soon he was forgotten.

Years passed, Seasons turned. And by the time a Mister Alexander settled in a quaint little estate on the edge of Bodington, none could recall a similar scenario occurring but a few short fifty years earlier. Mister Alexander was tall, and charming. Eloquent, and chivalrous. He gave off the feeling of total decency and civilization. His manner was smooth, his hat, elegant. And since it is not considered polite to question a gentleman too closely this Mister Alexander also didn’t leave behind any information concerning his past, when a boulder collided precisely with his transport as he was making his way to town. Mister Alexander’s belongings were auctioned, along with his estate. His fortune, having not been bequeathed to any next of kin, seized by the local authorities, and just as quickly as he perished. The memory of Mister Alexander vanished like smoke on a cold winter day.

Now the minds of man are imperfect, and memory a fleeting thing. However it was perhaps around the twentieth, fiftieth, or maybe millionth Mister Alexander that the good people of Bodington found themselves with more hats, and canes, and relics from “Across the Great Sea” as the Gypsies so aptly put it, and began to wonder how it was, that hamlet had managed to amassed such an unprecedented rate of growth compared to neighboring cities. Indeed it appeared that the local coffers were limitless in providing funding for some local project or another, that by the time they began to question, the phenomena, Bodington had grown to a sizeable metropolis complete with any sort of local public good man could conceive. Why they even had machines scouting for all but the slightest blemish on the shiny town, eradicating the offending spot in mere minutes. Neighboring communities grew fearful and jealous at Bodington’s success. And it was only shortly after Bodington’s declaration as an independent state, that old Farley stands up one evening and says, “Hey anyone remember what happened to that ol’ Mister Alexander feller?”