{"id":18759,"date":"2023-08-10T07:55:15","date_gmt":"2023-08-10T11:55:15","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/?p=18759"},"modified":"2023-08-10T08:01:15","modified_gmt":"2023-08-10T12:01:15","slug":"the-guide-to-king-george","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/fiction\/the-guide-to-king-george\/","title":{"rendered":"THE GUIDE TO KING GEORGE"},"content":{"rendered":"

Note: If you are reading this manual, I\u2019m dead. Trust me, nothing other than death would\u2019ve ever separated me from King George. I hope these few words that I put together \u201cjust in case\u201d help guide you to many memorable years with the one who is\u2014was, I guess\u2014my best bud.<\/em><\/p>\n

Be good to him! -Ritchie<\/em><\/p><\/blockquote>\n

His Name:<\/u><\/p>\n

The thing you\u2019ll be asked about the most is his name. It seems like just about all of the visitors at the amusement farm ask why the resident pond monster\u2019s name is King George. The truth is, I named him after my dad. His name was George.<\/p>\n

Dad and I were tight. I guess most kids are close with their dads when they are seven, but me and my dad, we were different. We were best friends. Always hanging out. Playing. Gaming. You name it, we were having a good time doing it. But Dad fell asleep at the wheel and ran off into the river on his way home from the factory one morning and got himself killed.<\/p>\n

After he was gone, I wished all the time that he had been a king because I believed, for some reason, that kings lived forever. Stupid, I know, but that\u2019s what I thought as a little kid. If Dad had to die, I wanted to give my new best friend a chance at eternal life. Something that would keep me from losing him, too. So, I named him King George.<\/p>\n

But don\u2019t tell the farm\u2019s visitors all that. Just tell them we call him King George because he\u2019s the biggest pond monster in all the world. That\u2019ll do.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

His Arrival, the Simple Answer:<\/u><\/p>\n

\u201cWhere did he come from?\u201d \u201cHow did he get here?\u201d \u201cWas he born in that pond?\u201d<\/p>\n

A form of one of these questions is what\u2019ll follow the whole name thing. It\u2019s up to you in how you choose to approach it.<\/p>\n

If you want to pretend like I never existed, that\u2019s fine. Make up your own backstory for him. Maybe he was a tadpole in that very pond at which you\u2019ll be standing. Maybe he fell from the clouds. I don\u2019t know.<\/p>\n

Or you can say that he came from the local pet store, Four-Legged Friends. Although hard to believe, that\u2019s actually the truth.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

His Arrival, the Extended Answer:<\/u><\/p>\n

After Dad died and Mom still didn\u2019t want to be in the picture, Gran and Gramps took me in.<\/p>\n

My grandparents worried about me because they caught me crying in bed a lot. Like a whole lot. Their worrying got worse when they saw my notebook of drawings of me and Dad out in the river.<\/p>\n

I heard Gran up at night talking to Gramps about me. He didn\u2019t say anything, as usual. But his agreement grunts hummed under Gran\u2019s words, so I wasn\u2019t surprised when she told me that I had to see a counselor.<\/p>\n

When those visits didn\u2019t do much good, Gran and Gramps took me to group meetings with other kids who had recently-dead parents.<\/p>\n

I went to those groups for a few months, but I missed Dad too much for them to help.<\/p>\n

I just wanted to be by myself. I could remember him better when other people weren\u2019t talking to me or getting in the way.<\/p>\n

Gran and Gramps eventually began to understand me a little, but they still thought I needed someone to talk to.<\/p>\n

They more than thought it; they demanded it. \u201cOh, you are getting a friend, Ritchie,\u201d Gran started to say daily\u2014to me and to the walls both. \u201cOh, yes, you are.\u201d<\/p>\n

She and Gramps took me to the pet store on my birthday and told me to pick one out.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnything you want. A friend,\u201d Gran said as the three of us walked inside the automatic doors.<\/p>\n

I didn\u2019t need to look long. Honestly, he was right there. First aquarium. At the edge of the very first aisle. All alone in his glass enclosure. Swimming. He was actually swimming, like me and Dad used to do. A new kind of hybrid iguana-bullfrog species, staring at me\u2014staring at me and<\/em> swimming.<\/p>\n

After we took him home, he stayed quiet the first couple of nights. It kind of freaked Gran and Gramps out that he didn\u2019t make any noise. I think they were afraid that he\u2019d die, too, and that I\u2019d well\u2014you know, off myself or something.<\/p>\n

But soon he started talking\u2014croaking. Anytime I went away, he started bellowing. Deep, gurling bellowing. Honest to the gods, anytime I left his side, which was rare, he croaked and croaked.<\/p>\n

Gran and Gramps thought it was great. They still stayed on me about the kids at school, but, truthfully, I couldn\u2019t care less about the kids at school. Not then. Not ever. They are mean to me. Always have been, even before Dad died. \u201cFreak\u201d and \u201cweirdo\u201d were what they called me in the early days because they said I didn\u2019t talk enough, but after Dad died, they turned to whispering behind my back\u2014or walking on the far side of the hallway as far from me as they could get, like if they brushed up against me, they, too, might catch a case of sudden, accidental death. Honestly, Gran and Gramps could fuss to me about the kids at school all they wanted. At least I didn\u2019t hear them up at night anymore talking.<\/p>\n

They could see the bond I had with King George. Even as a little, tiny thing, King George loved me, and I loved him, too. It was that true being loved feeling that I hadn\u2019t felt since Dad had been around.<\/p>\n

When King George called, I, of course, answered.<\/p>\n

I brought him whatever he needed. Food mainly. At first it was flies and then beetles. Next, he needed mice and worked his way up to chickens. Lots of chickens.<\/p>\n

Obviously, he outgrew aquarium after aquarium, and, just a few weeks before my ninth birthday, there was nowhere else to put him other than out in the enormous pond behind the house.<\/p>\n

I worried about him leaving the pond since there wasn\u2019t a fence. Him crawling out of the water and going to the next pond. Or a lake. Or a river. Or the river. The one only a couple of miles down the road. The one Dad died in. But deep down I knew he wouldn\u2019t ever choose to leave me.<\/p>\n

When visitors ask me about how King George came to live in the pond, I say it\u2019s because of me.<\/p>\n

I<\/em> took him down to the pond, and I<\/em> put him there in the water.<\/p>\n

Makes me feel big like him to tell it. I bet it will you, too, if you want to give it a try.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Hours and Admission:<\/u><\/p>\n

I\u2019ll include the boring but still necessary stuff about the farm in this section just to get it out of the way. We open on Memorial Day, and we close on Labor Day. Rain or shine, we are open every single day in this timeframe. This is clearly only a summer gig. I hope Gran remembered to tell you. On weekdays, the first tour starts at nine o\u2019clock sharp, and they continue at the top of each hour until the last one sets out from the barn at five. On weekends, we start an hour earlier and go an hour later. Twenty dollars per person. Kids under the age of five get in free. Veterans get a dollar discount. All guests stay on the trailer the entire time<\/u>. You MUST strictly enforce that rule at the pond because King George doesn\u2019t really like a lot of people getting too close to him. I\u2019m sure you read in the newspaper about the little kid he snapped at. It wasn\u2019t that big of a deal, but still. He is a pond monster, after all. Guests can take pictures. To be safe, we say no flash photography (just in case the light upsets King George), but it doesn\u2019t really matter. The flash has never bothered him before. The maximum number of guests per trailer is twelve. If more people are waiting, tell them they\u2019ll just have to wait until the next tour. People don\u2019t mind. They know what they\u2019re about to see.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

The Amusement Farm:<\/u><\/p>\n

I can\u2019t imagine anyone being interested in such a position as the one I\u2019ve apparently left vacant without actually visiting the farm first, so I\u2019m guessing you\u2019ve been on one of the tours we offer.<\/p>\n

As much of a basic familiarity as you might have, you still need a little history to get a better understanding of the place.<\/p>\n

It\u2019ll come in handy. I promise.<\/p>\n

The idea for the whole thing popped into Gran\u2019s head a few months after I\u2019d had to put King George out in the pond. He was croaking louder and louder by the day because I was in school. And people around town were talking. They wanted to know what was going on.<\/p>\n

When me, Gran, and Gramps were selling corn and tomatoes at the local farmer\u2019s market one Saturday morning, which they always made me do with them because they thought it was good for my \u201csocial and emotional development,\u201d people kept on asking them about the constant racket coming from our place. Gran and Gramps brushed off all of the nosiness. \u201cIt\u2019s just our grandson\u2019s pet. A harmless, sweet, huge thing. Honestly, he\u2019s like a great big teddy bear,\u201d Gran said.<\/p>\n

But I couldn\u2019t take it anymore. I straight up lost it. \u201cIt\u2019s not a pet! It\u2019s my best friend if you must know!\u201d I yelled. \u201cHe loves me, and he misses me. Badly!\u201d<\/p>\n

It shocked them both when I spoke up, but I\u2019d had it.<\/p>\n

After my outburst, those people raised their eyebrows all confused-like and walked away from our stand. They knew about my situation, so they tried to be nice to me.<\/p>\n

But one lady who I didn\u2019t recognize didn\u2019t budge. She looked me dead in my eyes and said, \u201cI\u2019ll pay you twenty dollars to go see this \u2018best friend\u2019 right now.\u201d<\/p>\n

She was glaring at me, but she was actually making the proposal to Gran.<\/p>\n

Gran started choking at the woman\u2019s offer.<\/p>\n

Twenty dollars was a lot of money for us back then. My grandparents were living off of their social security checks and what little money they made selling their fruits and vegetables. They hadn\u2019t planned on my arrival, my counseling sessions, or all the food King George was eating, so they were struggling. A woman offering free money wasn\u2019t something she could really turn down. So, after telling Gramps that was how it was going to be, Gran took the money, and the woman came to see King George. To be fair, there wasn\u2019t a lot of seeing involved. With just a glance at him\u2014seeing he actually existed, she took off screaming and crying. I didn\u2019t think much more about her really. Not until the next weekend, at least.<\/p>\n

That very next Saturday morning, she was back at our stand by the time we arrived to set up, and she had a couple of friends with her.<\/p>\n

They weren\u2019t in the mood for what we were selling either. They just wanted to see King George.<\/p>\n

Gran asked for another twenty dollars each, and we took them out to the farm.<\/p>\n

The woman didn\u2019t run this time. Neither did her friends. They stood there and watched my buddy carrying on in the pond. He wasn\u2019t all that big then, basically a grossly exaggerated gator. Imagine a dozen midnight blue industrial sized refrigerators wrapped together with a bungee cable. An oblong head at one end. A pointy tail at the other. Two wobbly baby legs and a set of bulging arms hanging off a saggy belly that, when full, tried its best to skirt against the pond\u2019s dirty bottom. That was him.<\/p>\n

He showed out good, though. Belly flops, spinning, and splashing.<\/p>\n

King George\u2019s first paying audience clapped when he went back into the water to rest, and they gave Gran an extra twenty-dollar bill. \u201cThat was awesome,\u201d the once-scared woman said.<\/p>\n

At breakfast the next morning, Gran came up with the idea of turning King George into some kind of attraction. She reasoned it all by talking about the money.<\/p>\n

She kept on talking about different possibilities with King George that by lunch she\u2019d come up with not just a singular attraction, but the whole amusement farm idea.<\/p>\n

When she told Gramps he could drive a tractor all day, hauling folks around from the barn to the pond, he snorted, which is more than you\u2019ll probably ever hear from him.<\/p>\n

She told me I could train King George to perfect a few tricks. \u201cSome like they do with the whales at that silly place in Florida,\u201d she said. \u201cSplashy, showy stuff.\u201d<\/p>\n

She would work the entrance and handle the accounts.<\/p>\n

Right when it seemed like she was finished, she said she\u2019d buy a badger and a couple of exotic birds to put up in different cages along the route to the pond. \u201cFor more variety,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n

We didn\u2019t counter or offer anything of our own. Three months later, the farm was open for business.<\/p>\n

And that\u2019s how it began.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Trivia:<\/u><\/p>\n

The farm\u2019s guests love trivia. It might be more that they just appreciate some kind of customer interaction. I know I\u2019m not really entitled to criticize Gramps on this subject since I\u2019m the way I am, but unless you count him grunting and tipping the sweaty end of his University of Tennessee ball cap as some kind of greeting, he doesn\u2019t even acknowledge our guests. Ever.<\/p>\n

King George gets off on their excitement. You can tell when he\u2019s getting amped because he starts shaking really badly. It\u2019s almost like he\u2019s doing some kind of shoulder shimmy without having the actual shoulders to do the shimmy. Little waves start forming around his head and he just gets to bobbing away. So, to make him happy, I usually offer the guests a little something. I throw out a question that I know will stump them.<\/p>\n

I ask them if they know the amusement farm\u2019s actual name.<\/p>\n

You should keep this question going.<\/p>\n

I promise. The guests eat it up.<\/p>\n

Do you know the answer? I\u2019m sure you don\u2019t. Nobody ever does. Everybody thinks it\u2019s just called \u201cThe Amusement Farm.\u201d Even on the ads that Gran put in the paper, \u201cThe Amusement Farm.\u201d On the radio, back when Gran paid for advertisement there, \u201cThe Amusement Farm.\u201d<\/p>\n

Anyhow, the farm\u2019s named George\u2019s<\/em>. It\u2019s actually named after Dad and not the pond monster everybody is so eager to see. I know because Gran let me name it.<\/p>\n

There\u2019s even a sign out front that\u2019s off the road displaying a cartoon version of me and Dad acting like we are scared of a monster bubbling beneath the surface of the pond beside us. Dad\u2019s arm is wrapped around my shoulders, and I\u2019m cradled beside him real tight. Tree branches cover most of the sign now, so you probably didn\u2019t even know it was there. But it is. I think about it a lot.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

The Daily Schedule During Season:<\/u><\/p>\n

A good bulleted list is easy on the eyes, so I\u2019ll help you out here:<\/p>\n