Allister believed in good luck charms almost as much as he believed in good luck itself. Throughout his life he carried with him various objects that emitted the aura of good fortune. These ranged from the mundane rabbit's feet and four leaf clovers to the more elaborate iron clad harness adorned with brass jingle bells (it is of importance to understand that the jingle bells were the bearer's of good fortune and not the heavy iron harness, but that as with many well-made harnesses, the jingle bells were welded in a most permanent fashion, thus making it impossible to separate) which was said to have belonged to King Arthur's milkman oh so long ago.
Allister grew tired of most of the charms. But, specifically in the case of the iron clad harness, he just grew tired of carrying it. It wasn't necessarily that it was heavy, though it most certainly was. And it wasn't necessarily that, in order for luck to occur, one must bear the burden of the harness alone and without assistance from any beast, though this was also most certainly true. It was just that whilst pulling the harness, the bells of good fortune would jingle, and passerby would expect Allister to deliver milk, cheese, and butter. It was not uncommon for a stranger to come running up to Allister whilst he was pulling his harness and shout, "Two of milk, two of cream!" (This, by and by, was the most frequent order and not just a random example of an order that someone may have made.)
Allister held no negative feelings toward the dairy industry. On the contrary, it could be argued that he held only deep respect for the practitioners of this art-especially after inadvertently becoming one himself. There was pressure, though. Much pressure. You see, good fortune only fell towards Allister if he provided everyone who answered to good fortune's jingle bells with all the milk and cheese and butter they desired. Allister had no established route. He merely attached harness to cart and delivered dairy in free-lancing fashion. His clientele, thereby, constantly changed in character and numbers.
Allister learned to carry an overabundance and, at the end of an eight hour shift (for Allister knew that luck worked by way of eight hour shifts. the simple question of "how" could be simply answered with "he just did".), if Allister had successfully predicted the amount needed, good fortune came to him in a most sudden and immediate fashion. Allister would trip over long lost buried treasure in the middle of the street, or he would trip and fall and land fingers first into four previously undiscovered wells of the finest oil, or he would trip and fall and find himself flying. The last situation most certainly leant more towards the ridiculous than the very lucky. But, this was the power of the iron clad milkman's cart (remembering, of course, that the power came from the jingle bells and not the cart itself.). And such was the state of Allister's life for some time. Fortunate? Most certainly, he was. Happy? Most certainly, this was not definite.
Whilst luck and good fortune came to Allister like ants to honey (that is to say effortlessly), his like remained very much an over-exertion of effort in order to attain said luck and good fortune. Eight hours pulling a cart filled with diary (and an iron clad cart, at that) every day, even when you knew good (one could argue great) fortune was to come your way, was tiring. And, of course, if you do not dream of becoming a milkman, than assuming the milkman's duties will seem an enternity of work. Do not think Allister selfish. This is the case, in fact, for all humans. I feel, though, that I must now speak in good faith for Allister. He loved the look on people's faces when his milk cart's jingle bells decorated the air and they came running out of their homes to find a surprise visit from a vigilante milkman. He loved the look on their faces when he had just what they needed. But, this was not enough. Even when you added to this the fact that at the end of the eight hour shift Allister may find himself tripping into flight. It was not enough, of course, because at the end of the flight lay another eight hour shift.
To Allister, who never wanted to be attached to any one place, the idea of traveling the same route was intolerable. And, to milkmen, the idea of traveling around the world selling dairy products was equally intolerable and impossible even (as refrigeration had yet to be invented). So, Allister was forced to make a difficult decision. His choice was neither right nor wrong in the larger sense, but exactly right for him.
This is how the iron clad milkman's cart once belonging to King Arthur's milkman (whose jingle bells brought great fortune) came to rest on a wooded hilltop to hopefully be discovered by someone dreaming milkman dreams. Allister, himself, never heard those jingle bells of luck ever again and wondered if this was due to the milk cart's exquisite camouflage or the fact that not long after the job of the milkman seemed to fade away.
Allister grew tired of most of the charms. But, specifically in the case of the iron clad harness, he just grew tired of carrying it. It wasn't necessarily that it was heavy, though it most certainly was. And it wasn't necessarily that, in order for luck to occur, one must bear the burden of the harness alone and without assistance from any beast, though this was also most certainly true. It was just that whilst pulling the harness, the bells of good fortune would jingle, and passerby would expect Allister to deliver milk, cheese, and butter. It was not uncommon for a stranger to come running up to Allister whilst he was pulling his harness and shout, "Two of milk, two of cream!" (This, by and by, was the most frequent order and not just a random example of an order that someone may have made.)
Allister held no negative feelings toward the dairy industry. On the contrary, it could be argued that he held only deep respect for the practitioners of this art-especially after inadvertently becoming one himself. There was pressure, though. Much pressure. You see, good fortune only fell towards Allister if he provided everyone who answered to good fortune's jingle bells with all the milk and cheese and butter they desired. Allister had no established route. He merely attached harness to cart and delivered dairy in free-lancing fashion. His clientele, thereby, constantly changed in character and numbers.
Allister learned to carry an overabundance and, at the end of an eight hour shift (for Allister knew that luck worked by way of eight hour shifts. the simple question of "how" could be simply answered with "he just did".), if Allister had successfully predicted the amount needed, good fortune came to him in a most sudden and immediate fashion. Allister would trip over long lost buried treasure in the middle of the street, or he would trip and fall and land fingers first into four previously undiscovered wells of the finest oil, or he would trip and fall and find himself flying. The last situation most certainly leant more towards the ridiculous than the very lucky. But, this was the power of the iron clad milkman's cart (remembering, of course, that the power came from the jingle bells and not the cart itself.). And such was the state of Allister's life for some time. Fortunate? Most certainly, he was. Happy? Most certainly, this was not definite.
Whilst luck and good fortune came to Allister like ants to honey (that is to say effortlessly), his like remained very much an over-exertion of effort in order to attain said luck and good fortune. Eight hours pulling a cart filled with diary (and an iron clad cart, at that) every day, even when you knew good (one could argue great) fortune was to come your way, was tiring. And, of course, if you do not dream of becoming a milkman, than assuming the milkman's duties will seem an enternity of work. Do not think Allister selfish. This is the case, in fact, for all humans. I feel, though, that I must now speak in good faith for Allister. He loved the look on people's faces when his milk cart's jingle bells decorated the air and they came running out of their homes to find a surprise visit from a vigilante milkman. He loved the look on their faces when he had just what they needed. But, this was not enough. Even when you added to this the fact that at the end of the eight hour shift Allister may find himself tripping into flight. It was not enough, of course, because at the end of the flight lay another eight hour shift.
To Allister, who never wanted to be attached to any one place, the idea of traveling the same route was intolerable. And, to milkmen, the idea of traveling around the world selling dairy products was equally intolerable and impossible even (as refrigeration had yet to be invented). So, Allister was forced to make a difficult decision. His choice was neither right nor wrong in the larger sense, but exactly right for him.
This is how the iron clad milkman's cart once belonging to King Arthur's milkman (whose jingle bells brought great fortune) came to rest on a wooded hilltop to hopefully be discovered by someone dreaming milkman dreams. Allister, himself, never heard those jingle bells of luck ever again and wondered if this was due to the milk cart's exquisite camouflage or the fact that not long after the job of the milkman seemed to fade away.
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