Agile Development

The city of Randerfall had seen better days. Granted, it had failed to become the quaint and harmonious city envisioned by it’s founders some 120 years ago but it had clearly deteriorated these past few decades. City center was awash with petty crime, the citizenry divided by acrimonious politics, and 10 Wellington Way, the once pristine and majestic offices of the Major and the Thursten reformist party, had fallen into disrepair. 

It bore witness to the dramatic drop in quality of life for most Randerfallians. Camped outside its’ entrance across the street in Paradise Square the number of homeless rose every year. The divide between the have and the have nots had never been so pronounced: a full 95% of the spoils went to the elite living on South Riverside Drive.
On particularly quiet nights patrons of Blacky’s Restaurant could hear the noise of their laughter, the clinking of their glasses, and the celebratory mood of those without so much as a care in the world wash over the veiled dreariness that had come to encase the city. Unemployment was just over 20% and for the first time in a long time Randerfallians began to openly question whether there was somewhere better out there.

This was the scene when Abraham Spry came to town that cold and overcast morning in early October. He set up shop quickly in the public square within earshot of the multitudes of hopeful job seekers that had started gathering well before dawn outside Scaffy’s Chemical Plant.

“Citizenry of Randerfall!” he declared in his angelic voice. “I come to you bearing great news! I have seen the Promised Land and will take you to it. Oh that thou has never tasted honey so sweet, fruit so ripe and delectable, nor ground so fertile. The place I speak of does not have unemployment, the leaders are just and true, and happiness is in abundance.”

And on and on he went, drawing quite the sizeable crowd…young and old, rich and poor, black and white…out they came to hear this bearer of good tidings, this master orator. Perhaps it was what he said, or perhaps how he said it, but his beautiful words struck a chord and before long the nodding turned to loud applause and cheers. Little Theresa would later tell her friends that she had in fact seen Principal Emma Brown, the “Terror of Randerfall Elementary”, carefully wiping away a tear.  By noon a group of 100 denizens of the city of Randerfall had grabbed their belongings, their children, taken what they had out of the local bank and pledged their allegiance to Abraham Spry and his vision for a better future. 

The first part of the journey flew by as the band of Randerfallians enjoyed nights under the stars, fresh smog free air, and the pervasive feeling that all was well with the world.

It happened that they passed through Folsgold, a small city nestled in the foothills of the Brantwurst mountain range.

“Is this the promised land?” Hannah Wyoming asked Abraham Spry.
“No, Hannah. No it is not.” He told her with a knowing smile on his face.

Mr. Jacob, a heavyset former machinist called out to a small group of people waiting for local Stanly’s market to open. 

“Kind sirs and madams. Pray tell us about this city please. Is your honey ever so sweet, your fruit so ripe and delectable, and ground so fertile? Do you have zero unemployment, just leaders and happiness in abundance?”
“No sir we have none of those things. But we are content.” replied a sheepish woman in the back deigning to speak up after no one else had replied.
“And why so is it that thou should be so content then?” inquired Mr. Jacob, now intrigued.
“Our honey and fruit are edible, and our land sufficiently arable. Our unemployment rate is 15%, our leaders are sometimes honest, and happiness is but a spurious concept.” She stated matter of factly.

Mr Jacobs paused to consider this, then said resolutely, “Then I will stay.”

“But I doth protest!” Abraham Spry interjected. “This is not the promised land. We still have a long way to go.”
“Well” replied Mr. Jacob, “This is good enough for me.”

And with that he grabbed his two small children by the arm, kindly asked his wife to pick up the suitcases, and walked off down the street with 20 other Randerfallians quickly following suit.

Such depleted, the remaining Randerfallians thereupon set off behind Abraham Spry to continue the journey. 

For the next several days the travel was more difficult. Gone was the excitement and joy so many had cherished when they had left Randerfall. Yet they maintained course and before long arrived at the city of Mediocris.

“Is this the promised land?” Hannah Wyoming asked Abraham Spry.
“No, Hannah.” He stated somewhat depleted. “No it is not.”

Elise Dransdale, the former school teacher turned couples therapist stopped a middle aged man taking his golden retriever for a walk. 

“Kind sir. Pardon the interruption. Pray tell us about this city please. Is your honey ever so sweet, your fruit so ripe and delectable, and ground so fertile? Do you have zero unemployment, just leaders and happiness in abundance?”
“No my lady.  We have some of those things but not all. But we are content.” replied the man.
“And why so is it that thou should be so content then?” inquired Elise.
“Our honey is good enough, our fruit sometimes ripe enough, and our land sufficiently arable. Our unemployment rate is 10%, our leaders are mostly decent, and happiness can be found here and there.” he stated without the slightest hint of sarcasm. 

Elise Dransdale was quick to make a decision. “Then I will stay.” She stated emphatically.

“But I doth protest!” Abraham Spry interjected. “This is not the promised land. We still have a ways to go.”
“Well” replied Elise Dransdale, “This is good enough for me.”

And with that she hugged several of her travel companions, picked up her bag and walked off down the street with 30 other Randerfallians quickly following suit.

This next leg of the journey was even more difficult and tested the resolve of even the strongest of the remaining Randerfallians including Abraham Spry himself.

Respites from the inclement weather were few and far between. Yet so invested were they in finding somewhere better that they continued forward and eventually happened upon the city of Aliquantum.

 “Is this the promised land?” Hannah Wyoming asked Abraham Spry.
“No, Hannah. No it is not.” He told her with a whiff of uncertainty in his voice.

Beatrix Groenning called out to a young woman selling bread on the corner of First and Main. 

“Kind young lady. Pray tell us about this city please. Is your honey ever so sweet, your fruit so ripe and delectable, and ground so fertile? Do you have zero unemployment, just leaders and happiness in abundance?”

“Well I am not sure Madam.  We have some of those things but not all. But we are content” replied the young lady.
“And why so is it that thou should be so content then?” inquired Beatrix, her face perking up with the expectation of closure.

“Our honey is sweet enough, our fruit ripe and delicate enough, and our land arable enough. Our unemployment rate is 5%, our leaders are true enough, and the citizens seem happy enough.” she stated.

Beatrix Groenning pursed her lips in thought. After a careful pause she said “Then I will stay.”

“But I doth protest!” Abraham Spry interjected clearly exasperated. “This is not the promised land. We still have miles and miles to travel!”
“Well” replied Beatrix Groenning, “This is good enough for me.”

And with that she let her hair down in one sweeping gesture, swung her head dramatically to the side and skipped off down the street with the remaining Randerfallians quickly following suit.

Abraham Spry stared in disbelief as the last of the Randerfallians disappeared from view. Looking around he saw Hannah Wyoming gazing intently at him, waiting expectantly for his next move.

“Come on then Hannah.” He said. “Let’s go.” And with that the two silently walked out of town.

A few days later Abraham Spry rounded a corner in the mountain pass and noticed a golden glimmer off of what appeared to be a beautiful city far down in the valley. Perhaps it was just the sun playing tricks on him as had been the case many other times before. But Abraham Spry did not think so. Astonished and excited, he turned abruptly to announce the wonderful news of their imminent arrival at the Promised Land only to discover there was no one there.  Abraham Spry was all alone.

And with that he signed heavily, turned back from whence he came, determined yet again to find another town and people to guide to the Promised Land.

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