A Stranger Comes to Town

Allison Bloom

In a small town outside of the city, there lived a family.  The family lived on a modest income in a modest house.  The father, Tom Jones, was a well-respected businessman, and he served as the head of the Town Council.  The mother, Lisa Jones, took care of the family, and kept her husband up-to-date on the latest gossip.  They had two children; the eldest child, Chris, was in his mid-teens, and the younger child, Kelly, a few years his junior.  Life was not always perfect for the family, but they were happy.

         In the beginning of December, the father was about to begin his campaign for head of Town Council for his fifth consecutive term, a position everyone knew he would obtain with little difficulty.  It was at this time that a murmur would spread through the town, as everyone would wonder who was opposing Tom Jones this year.  Perhaps it was tradition, or maybe just habit, but it was common knowledge that every year someone would run against Tom Jones, and every year Tom Jones would win hands-down, and every year Tom Jones’ opposition would send a fruit basket with a card that would read, “Maybe next year.”  Tom Jones would then be invited over to the person’s house to show that there were no hard feelings, and they would humor each other by comparing their campaign strategies.  This was ritual, this was custom; the town seemed to have no desire to change.

         After hanging up his last ‘Vote Tom Jones for Town Council’ sign one day, Tom was about to head home when a strange car sped by.  It was a “flashy” car, as Lisa Jones would have put it, certainly not the type of respectable automobile that most people owned in the town; it was the kind of car that men like Tom Jones always wished for, but would never admit to having such a secret desire.  During the drive home, Tom wondered whether this stranger would be staying in town or was just passing through.  If the former was true, he decided he would ask his wife to put together a fruit basket and he would bring it over.  “What a neighborly thing to do,” Tom chuckled to himself as he pulled into his driveway.

         Over dinner that evening, Tom brought up the subject of the car, and to his surprise, the rest of the family had similar stories to tell.

 “How strange!” cried Lisa, “I also saw some flashy car pull up to the Jenkinsin’s old house today, and Kelly and Chris both said they heard two new kids had signed up for classes at their school.”

“Well, looks like we have some newcomers then!” laughed Tom, and the family decided it would be nice to send over a fruit-basket and an invitation to dinner.

         During dinner the following evening, Lisa was outraged.

“I’ve have never heard of a more rude family in my entire life!  When I picked up the mail this afternoon, someone had put an envelope in the mailbox, and when I opened it, the letter was on some fancy business stationary.  Tom, I tell you, it was ridiculous!  What nonsense!” she cried.

“Lisa, calm down.  What did the letter say?”  Tom asked, trying to calm his wife.

Lisa reached into the pocket of her apron and pulled out the letter, and Tom rolled his eyes at the thought that she had been carrying it around all day, gossiping with the neighbors about it.

“ ‘Due to the fact that Mr. Tom Jones is in opposition with Mr. Tim Grey for the upcoming election,” she read,  “ ‘he regrets that he feels it necessary to decline the offer to spend dinner with the Jones family, but would like to express his gratitude for the fruit-basket.’  And it was signed by his secretary!  His secretary!  Can you believe it?”  She cried. 

After calming his wife down and convincing her to go to bed early to “rest her poor nerves,” Tom sat wide-awake at his desk all night, unable to shake off the uneasy feeling that the letter had given him.

         When Tom went to work a few days later, there was an unusual buzz going through the office building, and people threw strange glances his way.  When he reached his own office, Tom’s closest friend and colleague, Bill Jenkinsin, hurried in.

“What’s going on?” Tom asked, “This place is on fire!”

“Haven’t you heard?  That new fellow, Tim Grey, he’s running against you for Town Council.  What a great guy he is, too!  Why, when I sold him our old house, he was just the nicest fellow I’ve ever met.  And whew…. what a handsome family!  Looks like you’ve got some real competition this year!” Bill laughed, and left Tom somewhat dumbfounded.

         Tom, though thoroughly confused, tried to forget what happened that morning and carried on through his day as normal as he could.  In the week that followed, Tom went about his usual routine, but always with a nagging feeling that something very strange was going on in the town.

         And indeed, something strange was going on.  The town was changing.  The Jones’ had their friends the Tishmans over one evening, and to Tom’s surprise Greg Tishman and his wife had recently bought a flashy sports car.

“The kids are all grown, what do I need a ‘family’ car for anymore?”  Said Greg over desert, “That Tim Grey, he gave me the name of a good dealer, and that’s where I got this beauty.”

         While Tom and Lisa thought it was strange that the Tishmans would make such an impractical purchase, they laughed it off and the evening was pleasant enough until Greg offered to take Tom for a spin in his new “beauty.”  Once they were on the road, Greg became quite grave, and glancing over at Tom, he said,

“We’ve been friends for a long time, Tom, and as a friend there’s something I think I ought to tell you.  Now, don’t take this the wrong way, but I know Tim Grey is opposing you and all in the election, and perhaps you should take a few pointers from him….”

“Now, what is that supposed to mean?” Asked Tom, who was fairly annoyed at this statement.

“I just meant that things have been so, well, the same in this town for so long that perhaps you ought to… shake things up a bit, or you might not win again this year.  I was talking things over with Tim, and he was pointing out that you might have made some substantial mistakes with this town…” 

Tom was quiet for the rest of the car ride, pondering what Greg had said, and when the Tishmans left Tom took two aspirins and fell into a fitful sleep.

         This incident was the beginning of many.  Things seemed to begin to revolve around Tim Grey, and people slowly forgot about the formerly prominent Tom Jones.  Time came for the election, and it was no surprise to Tom that he was defeated for the first time.  Everyone seemed be quite sure that Tom Jones did not like Tim Grey, but couldn’t imagine why.  Slanderous rumors spread rapidly of things that Tom had supposedly done when in office, ridiculous stories of embezzlement and the like.

One Friday, Tom went to work as usual to find no one was there.  When he called Bill Jenkinsin, Bill gave an exasperated sigh and told him,

“Look, Tom, just because you aren’t the head of the Town Council doesn’t mean decisions stop being made.  Tim Grey declared that Friday was no longer a workday last night.  At the meeting he really made us see that you were stifling this town when you were head of Town Council.  I mean, really!  You must have been trying to sabotage this city.  I’ve got to go… Tim is having a barbeque at his house, and he invited all of his friends.”  And with a decisive click he was gone.

“Well, I don’t believe it!  My own best friend, turning his back on me like that!”  Yelled Tom into the empty receiver, but his anger was in vain.  He had the sinking but final sense that things would never be the same in that town.

         During the next few weeks, life became unbearable for the Jones’.  Lisa realized that the women from her knitting group had stopped calling her to tell her when they were meeting.  Kelly came home in tears one day, crying that her best friend’s mother would not allow her to be friends with, “Any child of that dreadful Tom Jones.”  Chris called one day to tell his mother that he’d been fired from work, because everyone had been blaming everything that went wrong on him.

         It soon became common knowledge that anything that had to do with the Jones family was immoral and to be avoided.  They were shunned from any town event or school function, and on the rare occasion that they were invited somewhere, people would give them disdainful looks, and would never condescend far enough to actually speak to them. 

         The Jones family slowly fell out of existence.  No one seemed to notice that they hardly ever left the house, and soon they never left at all.

         A few years later, Greg Tishman was going through his mail when he came upon a letter that had gotten mixed in with his post, addressed to a ‘Mr. Tom Jones.’ 

“Martha?” He asked to his wife, “Do we know a Tom Jones?”

“Who?”  She said, taking a sip of coffee with a puzzled look on her face. 

And with a shrug, Greg threw the letter out.