Not much happened in Shadowtown. Each day rolled into the next and we sustained ourselves with silly games and endless speculation. The younger ones loved to talk of going to the Big House. We'd long heard of its lavish splendor and retold the tale countless times of old man Fountain's propensity to adopt young peasants. He had only the one son and rumor had it that he had a soft spot for homeless kids. It was said that his house was so big that he could adopt every child in our county without filling up his playrooms. We always dreamt of finding the Big House but it was far away, and my brother didn't think it really existed. Most of the older kids didn't. Philt said the Big House was an old wives tale or a legend or something, supposed to make little orphans feel better on particularly cold nights. There was one old guy from Shadowtown who claimed he'd actually seen the Big House. He said it looked pretty nice, but he decided not to risk his liberty by seeking entrance. "M.T.", he would tell me with a strange grin, "Freedom is divine! I'd rather be king of a dung heap than keep time in a palace." He was a crazy old guy.

It wasn't long after the winter's first snow that the infamous Fun House opened for business, just across the river from Shadowtown. We could see it's glittering lights from our alley. Late at night when it got really cold, the steam just poured off it's rooftop, dancing in and out of the sweeping event lights. All day long, throngs of people from Shadowtown crossed the bridge en route to the Fun House. It's warmth and spectacle were alluring, but the prospective journey terrified me. Being alone amidst a legion of strange people seemed almost more terrifying than being all by myself. Every day Philt would say we were going to walk on over there but we never did. Something always came up, not least of which were my constant protests. Since this was one of the few of my requests Philt ever honored, I later surmised that something about that short and crowded journey may have scared him too.

Not many visitors rolled through Shadowtown, most kept their windows up and doors locked. That was probably unnecessary, but we had a reputation. It was into this backdrop that a young stranger entered town one day, just before the new year. He came on foot. Though the years have dulled many of my early memories, I remember his approach with amazing clarity. His whole being was a paradox. I couldn't decide if he was horribly out of place in Shadowtown or if he was a perfect fit, he seemed to be both. Even his age was a mystery. From a distance we pegged him to be about 17, but to look into his eyes was to lose all equilibrium. He at once seemed to be far older and far younger than his frame would suggest. To this day I can't adequately describe him. He walked down our alley without fear and without pretense and his gaze was completely disarming. When he finally reached our beleaguered huddle he paused for what seemed like an eternity, just looking at us, as if he wanted to take each of our faces in. Such presumption would not normally be tolerated in Shadowtown, but something about him just froze us. When he'd looked into each of our eyes, he finally spoke.

"I have come a long way to invite each of you to come live out the rest of your days in the Big House."

My eyes widened as I shot a glance to my young comrades. I looked next to Philt, but his eyes were on the stranger. Nobody said a word, perhaps nobody could.

"I am Mr. Fountain," the stranger finally concluded.

"Fountain's an old man," Philt blurted out, "...if he even exists, I mean." The amendment had come awkwardly, as if Philt were embarrassed by the implication of his admission.

"Perhaps you are thinking of my father", the young man replied, "but I assure you I am his son and our names are the same."

"Prove it!", Philt demanded, trying to regain some of his swagger.

"I'm not sure I can, all I have is my word and this map. If you follow this map you will find the Big House. I can vouch for the map's accuracy, I can also vouch for the danger of the journey ahead. I have just traveled it myself. I will assure you however that if you follow the map, you will find the house safely, and finding the house, you will find my father ready and eager to adopt you as his son and my brother. His wealth is inexhaustible and it will be yours to enjoy in the fullest for the rest of your life. The journey itself, with all its peril, takes only a day, and the reward, I assure you, is immeasurable."

At this proclamation my young heart soared. Those first waves of hope were intoxicating, and it was the first time in my life that I was able to contemplate the future without clouds of dread getting in the way. What had forever been unrealized and irrational suddenly had a plausible foundation; the unknown suddenly held promise instead of fear. Philt's twelve-year old skepticism, however, wasn't so easily swayed, and he quickly became the spokesman for all the kids who so desperately wanted to believe, but had too much ego to make it possible.

"I don't know who you are." Philt spouted, "but we're not the fools you take us to be. If you were a Fountain, you'd be better dressed and you surely wouldn't have come here on foot."

The stranger seemed somehow saddened by Philt's accusation, but he progressed with no less resolve.

"As for the matter of my arrival, the only way for me to tell those without a car how to get to the Big House is for me to walk the road myself, without a car. My father is a fair man and he does not require his adopted sons to do anything which his natural son has not done himself. With regard to my apparel, all I can say is this: Things are not always as they seem. Those in poverty imagine wealth to be far different than it actually is. It is just like the child who goes on "making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea." The real wealth, I assure you, is far greater than the imagined.

With that, the young man placed a map in each of our filthy hands.

"There are now no sufficient obstacles for preventing your admission to the Big House. All you need know you have. I will depart with one final warning. If you don't leave tonight, you will never leave, and if you never leave, you will never arrive. Let that be understood. Everywhere worth going is worth the effort to get there. That which comes easily is easily lost. It is my sincerest desire that I will see each of you at our door tomorrow, but I will not force your compliance. The choice is yours."