The Mongofahrquar Times
~All the news you didn't know you wanted to know~
Mystery in the North
~ story originally filed by Bill Bagshot, senior reporter for The Cerberus, a quarterly with more than two points of view.
Mongofarquahr--A statement released March 31st by scientists handpicked by Her Majesty the Queen confirms an unlikely hypothesis.
Extremely unlikely.
Unless you are one of the 1100 women living in the small region of Mongoderrysetshire, in the Far North of England, and then everything seems just as it should.
You won't find the principle town of Mongosmythe on the map unless you use a jeweler's loupe. But it's there, the northernmost human settlement of the British Empire, just on the other side of the Arctic Circle somewhere.
"Aye, it's pretty remote 'ere. Most people have never 'eard of us," grinned Emmett Thornsmythe, who serves as the clerk and coroner for the village of Mongosmythe. "Generally we like it that way." It's nothing if not remote; I have to confess I myself am not sure just where it is, and I've been there.
The study commissioned by the Queen herself began approximately 11 weeks ago, when reports of an unusual number of pregnancies in this small and sparsely populated region filtered down to Big Ben Town. General practioner, veterinarian, and in his spare time, taxidermist, Gareth Swinsmythe told reporters back in December of last year that something odd was happening, but had no clinical data to back it up. Two Nobel-prize winners and 7 lesser mortals, directed by Her Majesty to study the unusual events in Mongoderrysetshire (or at least, they say, they are reasonably certain it was her signature on the order), concur that yes, fully 75% of all women above the age of puberty (all, not just the ones who can still wrestle pigs) in the shire are pregnant at the same time.
One of the things Mongoderrysetshire has historically been noted for besides the quality of its swine farms is the infertility of its women. Whether the cause is genetic or environmental is not known; in 95% of the cases Swinsmythe tested, there was no causal factor that could be found with the equipment and knowledge he had. They simply don't know why there aren't usually more babies.
"Aye," said Thornsmythe, "every twenty years or so we get ta running outta single young women, so then the young men gotta go down South and find some to bring back. And then later it's the other way around. It ain't a bad thing. Ya get used to it."
Geneticists were stymied in their research to determine the underlying cause of the pregnancy en masse until one seemingly unrelated fact became clear. The women who were pregnant had all attended a concert given by the actor Russell Crowe and his band, and the women who were not pregnant had not. The above mentioned Nobel Prize winners seem somewhat at a loss to know what to do with this bit of information. The seven lesser mortals blew a raspberry at me when I asked about it.
I had an opportunity to attend a social held on the lawn surrounding the town hall attended by many of the women in question. When I asked if I could be allowed to ask questions of the townspeople, I was told I could do whatever the 'ell I wanted. "And if somebody don't like it, they'll let you know."
There were folding chairs provided for the community event, stacks of them leaning against the trunks of trees; if you wanted to sit, you took one and dragged it to the group you wanted to sit with. Everyone brought their own refreshments; and there was an ice cream truck parked next to the curb doing a brisk business. Everyone was wearing jackets and gloves. Folding chairs and tables on the brown lawn, under the bare trees--spring above the Arctic Circle.
Louise Tessersmythe was one of those who attended the concert. "Well, 'e's a furking gurt star, ain't 'e? 'A course we were there. Only the eegjits like ol' Stan 'ere wouldna come. And ya notice 'e ain't a-carryin', don't ye?" Her laugh boomed across the town square. "We asked 'imself to come up to 'ere 'cause we 'eard 'e raised Angus 'ogs. I got the prize winning Angie back a' the 'ouse 'ere, if ye wanna see 'im. But then it turned up 'e was in the business a' Angus cattle. We was that disappointed, I can't tell ye."
She patted her belly. "'E's a gentleman, 'e is. Said right out plain 'e didn't know much about 'ogs, and it takes a big man to admit ta sommat like that. I didn't get to talk to 'im on the phone myself, but m' sis did, and when 'e said 'e 'ad a band and that 'e was gonna be close up 'ere, doing a concert in furking Iceland, Gwennie squealed like a gilt in 'eat. I 'eard 'er across the street. That Gwennie's a fool for an accordion. She asked 'im if 'e'd like to swing up 'ere and give us a show as well, that the 'ole town'd turn out if 'e would. "
The request apparently piqued Crowe's interest. "I've been all around the world," he said in a radio interview in June. "But I've never been there. And the woman I talked to sounded like she loved music. It's a lot of fun to play to a crowd that loves music. So it wasn't a tough decision to make. We expect to have a good time there."
Gwyneth Virgilsmythe, Louise's sister added, "We were pretty disappointed when 'e came out on stage and there wasn't a single accordion. Not sure 'ow you get away with calling yourself a band if ye got no accordions. But there; 'e did 'is best."
All the women seemed to agree the music was quite good. But, I said, there have been reviewers that didn't think much of Crowe's music. What do you make of that?
Louise : "Well, 'ell, whadda they know? Most a' them critics er gurt weenies, pissing and moaning 'bout everybody else to make themselves feel boarish. And that'll be Mr. Crowe t'you. We'll 'ave a bit a' respect from ye, if ye please."
I didn't see a theater anywhere in the town, were you all familiar with Crowe's...er, Mr. Crowe's films?
Gwyneth : "You think those satellites up there don't fly over our little town same as everybody else's? You think I chewed the pigskin for these boots" lifting her leather clad foot into the air for my perusal "myself? I suppose you think just because we raise 'ogs, and better 'ogs than you've ever seen, that we don't read books or listen to music or download videos just like the rest a' the civilized world? Ya gurt fool. I'm done talking to you."
We watched Gwyneth stomp off across the brown turf.
Louise : "She's excitable ever since she found out about the infant. It'll pass."
Esmer Torkelsmythe, Louise's cousin by marriage : "Of course we just love Mr. Crowe's movies. We show Gladiator to the seventh grade classes in the middle of the Citizenship and Responsibility module every year. It 'elps."
Gladiator? In school?
Esmer : "Sure. What do your kids watch in school?"
Louise : "Some gurt nonsense about penmanship, no doubt. Down South ye all got some things too damn easy. Ye'll all end up sausages if yer not careful."
Esmer : "Now Louise, penmanship is important."
Louise : "Ok, alright, I'm sorry about casting aspersions on penmanship."
Esmer : "It's alright, I forgive you. Back to Gladiator...my favorite scene is the one where 'e throws the sword at the nouveau riche in the boxes."
Louise : "And 'ollers. 'E 'ollers right well. I like that, but my favorite part is where 'e lops off the 'ead a' that two-legged 'og. Snicker-snack! I could watch that over and over."
I was in danger of losing control of the interview. Can we talk about the concert? I asked.
"Whaddya wanna know?"
Did you notice anything different about it? Anything that might account for....
"For all the gurt bellies around 'ere now? Well....there weren't any accordions."
I have that written down.
"And 'e don't do any a' that crooning crap. 'E sings right out. And tells a story or two in between. I like that. None a' this Paul Anka crap."
Ok. None of that sounds unusual.
"And 'e brought 'is parrot. That was sorta interesting. A right unusual bird." The ladies all nodded.
Parrot?
"A parrot. P-A-R-R-O-T. It's a bird. What talks."
I know what a parrot is. Why did he have a parrot?
Louise shrugged. "You'd 'ave to ask 'im."
Later in the day, the husbands of the expectant mothers arrived and sat down to join the conversation. Gwyneth returned to sit next to her husband Erlbane Virgilsmythe, but steadfastly refused to speak with me.
You've all heard the theories the scientists have come up with? Nods and titters. Which one do you think is right?
Louise : "Well....I 'eard that Professor Bentley talking about 'ow 'e thinks it's got something to do with allergens from Australia. That sounds like a load a' rubbish to me. If you could get pregnant from pollen, somebody woulda done it by now."
Holly Spytsmythe: "And then there's the ones what think 'e's givin' off microwaves outta his cellphone that're reactin' with the magnetic field up here. That's pretty silly."
What about you gentlemen in the group? What do you think the right explanation is?
Joseph Arrowsmyth stood up. "This whole thing's been blown all outta proportion. There ain't nothing to it. Just coincidence." He sat down.
His wife, Mary, said, "Don't pay any mind to 'im. 'E's just been annoyed about it ever since 'e found out about the infant. It'll pass."
Annoyed?
"No, I am not annoyed! Quit saying that!"
"It's 'cause a' all that talk in the magazines about how masculine Mr. Crowe is; 'e don't like it, it's pinched 'is feelings. And so then when 'e was feeling all puffed up about me carryin' his daughter-"
"And why can't it be a son, I'd like t'know??"
"-why, then all anybody talks about is that other man, the real masculine one, don't ya see? It's sorta deflated 'im." She patted him on the knee. "'E'll get over it."
Joseph turned bright red. "It damn well better be a coincidence. "Cause if it ain't a coincidence, I'd be wantin' to know just what the bleedin' 'ell went on in the auditorium that night. You women was in there a bleedin' long time for just listening to some frippery songs. And then y'all come out with bleedin' stars in yer bleedin' eyes---"
"You and yer bleedin' this and bleedin' that! You can just shut yer fat mouth, ya gurt prat-" She braced her foot against his hip and shoved him off his chair; he landed on the sod with a thud. "-it's a furking miracle is what it is, and ye oughta be grateful for it, and all ye can do is complain! It's a miracle, ya fool! A miracle! So shut the 'ell up!"
A calm voice from the back of the group : "Plus, there were only seven members in the band and there's over 700 of us that are pregnant. That would be quite an accomplishment, even for Australians."
When the laughter died down, an elderly woman stood up and started making her way to the front of the group, leaning heavily on her cane.
Joyce Needham, a recent immigrant, engaged to one of the inhabitants but not actually an Anything-smythe yet, said, "Professor Grant was saying yesterday that they're working now on the hypothesis that the parrot was a carrier for some kind of mutant mitochondrial activator, that behaves like a virus in the bloodstream until it reaches the reproductive organs, and then it turns into a ...." She hesitated. "....a catalytic converter? I'm not sure about that last part."
And did you all come into contact with the parrot?
"Well, 'e was sitting on Russell's shoulder when I saw it, so I'm thinking we woulda loved to be close enough to catch something from it, but....I don't think we all were."
"They're sayin' it flew over the crowd and shed it on us."
General laughter.
So you don't think that's the right explanation either.
Louise shrugged. "It's as good as any. The thing is....it doesn't rightly matter, ya know. Those scientists just need something to be working on, even if it's about as important as chocolate pudding."
"Vanilla!" a voice yelled out.
"Rocky Road!"
"That's ice cream!" More laughter.
The elderly woman was, by this time, standing next to me; she put her hand on my shoulder. "I can tell you what it is," she said. The ladies quieted.
"My name is Abigail Mongolibre," the old woman said, "and I've lived 'ere a long time. I believe I'm the oldest woman in this county that's still walking around. And I can tell you this is a tough place to live. Mongosmythe isn't the place for daisies and butterflies; you gotta be tough to live 'ere. It's an 'ard life, mostly work and mostly cold. Is it any wonder the little babies don't wanna be born 'ere? If you 'ad a choice, wouldn't you rather pick Palm Springs? Or 'Awaii?"
Yes, but-
"A fella from down South what's made some movies and likes to sing, came to our little town. All us women left the menfolk with leftovers, left the dishes in the sink, put on our dancing boots, and went to a frippery concert. Got an 'elluva show, we did. Fella sang to us like there weren't no tomorra, sang to us like we were somebody besides 'og sloppers and washerwomen, like we were somebody worth singing to. It was an 'elluva thing. I wouldn'ta missed it for anything.
"Some a' them menfolk that stayed at 'ome and grumbled are saying now that we ought not to've wasted our time and money." She sent an accusing glance toward Arrowsmythe. "But the upshot of it is, it made us real 'appy. Which ain't got no dollars and cents attached to it. Like the commercial says, Priceless. And so it stands to reason that all the teeny tiny babies that been resisting being conceived 'ere would feel better about it, them being made 'appy, too."
So.....the children that have not been conceived yet changed their minds because the concert made them happy???
"There ya go. Easy peasy."
Hm. Have you explained this theory to the scientists?
"Them? If they can't stick a thermometer up it's butt, they ain't gonna give it a second's thought. Better they stick with the parrot."
Yes. So nobody noticed anything about the parrot that might have been out of the ordinary? How many noticed it flying overhead....shedding.....
"I don't remember a parrot."
"Yeah, 'e 'ad it on 'is shoulder when 'e came out on stage."
"What 'appened to it? 'E couldn'ta 'ad it on 'is shoulder when 'e were prancin' around up there."
"Ere! 'E don't prance!"
More laughter.
"I don't know where it went; I suppose it musta flew away like they say."
"I didn't see anything flying away. Maybe it was a fake parrot, and 'e threw it down."
Noises of derision greeted that theory.
"Why would 'e be 'aving a stuffed parrot?"
"Why would 'e be 'aving a real one? Maybe it's like, a movie parrot."
"Oh, get on wi'ye! A movie parrot? I suppose next you're gonna tell me 'e's practicin' to be a pirate."
"It could happen. 'E can swing a sword right well. 'E'd make a good pirate."
"Stuff. 'E ain't got no earthly reason to be carrying a mock parrot around on 'is shoulder."
"Well, I didn't see any parrot flying around in the rafters at all, no time."
"Well, I wasn't looking around in the rafters, nor keeping track a' anybody's parrot....why would you want to be watching a furking parrot, when-"
Louise paused and some of the ladies hooted and clapped; they knew what was next.
"-ye got a Crowe onstage!"
General applause.
I turned my tape recorder off not long after that; the meeting degenerated into an ice-cream-slurping contest and little-toe comparisons, and I was forced to remove my shoes and socks, which provoked much hilarity, the reason for which was never explained to me.
A source close to the Crowe/Parrot project informs me that the initiative is suffering from a lack of funds, and what is more important, a lack of verifiable data, and may have to close up shop and trot back to London without a resolution to the mystery. Several of the townspeople have volunteered to help them pack their bags.
The only way to really test any hypothesis is to find another quiet little town with a birth rate on the downslide, and convince a certain movie star to bring his band there for a visit. Otherwise we may never have the answers.
"Chocolate pudding!"
© 2008