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The year is 1946. A thick snow rains down on a small town, just like every other small town in America. A sign partially covered by snow reads: You Are Now In Bedford Falls. A large bus passes by, the tracks from its tires imprinted into the packed snow. Christmas lights are strung across the street, hanging from each storefront to form a row of overhanging lights, shining brightly and swaying ever so slightly in the downpour of snow. A happy couple walk past Gower’s Drug Store, hand in hand, their shoulders held high as they walked through the drifts of snow. From inside the store echoed an old man’s voice.
“I owe everything to Conner Bailey. Help him, dear father.” The voice prayed.
A neon sign flickered inside the window of Martini’s Bar, the snow gently covering a tall Christmas tree outside the bar, adorned with ornaments and bright lights. A wreath was hung on the center of the wooden door. A voice came from within, the prayer echoing to the heavens themselves.
“Joseph, Jesus, and Mary, help my friend Mr. Bailey.” The voice prayed.
A streetlight sways in the wind, softly illuminating the neighborhood street. An old woman’s voice rang out from one of the houses.
“Help my son George tonight.” She prayed.
Inside the Bedford Falls Garage, all is still, with frost slowly coating the glass windows. Two voices came from inside the garage, in the same manner as the others had before.
“He never thinks about himself, God. That’s why he’s in trouble.” The first voice prayed, a man’s deep baritone.
“George is a good guy. Give him a break, Lord.” The second voice prayed.
The entire roof of a large house all coated in snow, the brick chimney poking out of the mountains of snow, black smoke puffing high up into the sky, through the clouds and dissipates in the night sky. Three voices rang out from the house, a woman’s and two children’s.
“I love him, dear lord. Watch over him tonight.” The first voice prayed, a woman’s soft tone.
“Please God. Something’s the matter with Daddy.” The second voice prayed, a small girl’s plea.
“Please bring Daddy back.” The third voice prayed, a much younger child, no older than five.
Past the moon, in a shining starlight sky, two stars gather together, softly illuminating the black night surrounding them.
“Hello, Joseph. Trouble?” One of the stars asks, shining brightly as he speaks.
“Looks like we’ll have to send someone down. A lot of people are asking for help for a man named Conner Bailey.” Joseph replied, illuminating just as the first star had done.
“Conner Bailey... Yes, that’s right. Tonight’s his crucial night, you’re right. We’ll have to send someone down immediately.” The first star remarked.
“That’s why I came to see you, sir. It’s that clockmaker’s turn again.” Joseph said disdainfully.
“Oho, Clarence. Hasn’t got his wings yet, has he?” The first star chuckled goodnaturedly.
“We passed him up right along. Because you know, sir, he’s got an IQ of a rabbit.” Joseph replied.
“Yes, but he’s got the faith of a child; simple. Joseph, send for Clarence.” The first star ordered.
A tiny star shot toward them, dwarfed by the size of the two massive stars.
“You sent for me, sir?” Clarence asked excitedly.
“Yes, Clarence. A man down on earth needs our help.” The first star explained.
“Splendid. Is he sick?” Clarence asked.
“No, worse. He’s discouraged. At exactly 10:45 PM earth time, that man will be thinking seriously of throwing away God’s greatest gift.” The first star replied.
“Oh dear, oh dear. His life. Then I’ve only an hour to dress. What are they wearing now?” Clarence asked.
“You’ll spend that hour getting acquainted with Conner Bailey.” The first star replied.
“Sir, if I should accomplish this mission... I mean, uh- might I perhaps win my wings? I’ve been waiting for over 200 years now, sir and people are beginning to talk.” Clarence asked.
“What’s that book you’ve got there?” The first star asked.
“Oh, the Adventures of Tom Sawyer.” Clarence happily replied.
“Clarence, you do a good job with Conner Bailey and you’ll get your wings.” The first star said, after a thoughtful pause.
“Oh, thank you, sir. Thank you.” Clarence said reverently.
“Poor Conner... Sit down.” Joseph ordered.
“Sit down? What are we-” Clarence began.
“If you’re going to help the man, you’ll want to know something about him, don’t you?” Joseph said.
“Well, of course I would.” Clarence replied.
“Keep your eyes open.” Joseph replied.
The night sky faded to black, the stars seemingly covered by a thick blanket.
“See that town?” Joseph asked.
“Where? I-I don’t see a thing.” Clarence asked.
“Oh, I forgot. You haven’t got your wings yet. Now here, I’ll help you out.” Joseph remarked.
The blackness faded away, replaced by a blurry film.
“Concentrate. Begin to see something?” Joseph asked.
The image gradually became clearer and clearer. Clarence could just make out the outline of a group of boys.
“Why, yes. This is amazing!” Clarence exclaimed.
“If you ever get your wings, you’ll see all by yourself.” Joseph explained.
“Oh, wonderful!” Clarence said, overjoyed.
All blurriness faded away from the image, and the group of boys became completely visible. They were all bundled up in warm winter clothes, with each of the boys wearing matching beanies with a skull and crossbones badge stitched onto them. The boy in front was holding a large snow shovel and the other boys were cheering wildly.
“Okay, boys. Let’s go!” He exclaimed, sliding down the icy hill.
“Hey, who’s that?” Clarence asked.
“That’s your problem, Conner Bailey.” Joseph replied.
“The boy?” Clarence asked, confused.
“That’s him when he was 12, back in 1919. Something happens here you’ll have to remember later on.” Joseph explained.
The other boys slid down the icy hill and onto the frozen lake, on snow shovels and various makeshift sleds. A boy with bright red hair and freckles zoomed down the hill on a snow shovel.
“Hee haw!” He yelled, putting his hands next to his ears while racing down the icy incline.
“Hee haw, Sammy!” Conner yelled, mimicking the gesture.
“Here comes my sister, Alex Bailey!” Conner yelled, theatrically pointing to the top of the hill.
“I’m not scared!” Alex declared, then pushed off.
All the other boys cheered as she flew down the icy hill, but paused when she started to spin out of control, knocking into the abandoned snow shovels and falling into the icy water. The boys frantically ran towards the hole in the ice, but couldn’t run quickly on their ice skates. Conner jumped in and pushed her out of the water, towards the edge of the ice, where the other boys reached out and pulled both of them back to safety.
“Conner saved his sister’s life that day. But he caught a bad cold, which infected his left ear. It cost him his hearing in that ear. It was weeks before he was able to go back to his after school job, at old man Gower’s drugstore.” Joseph explained.
Conner and his friends walked down the main street of their town. A large fancy carriage adorned with gold trim caught their eye and they ran to the curb to get a better look.
“Mr. Potter!” Conner exclaimed, pointing at the expensive carriage.
“Who’s that, a king?” Clarence asked.
“That’s Henry M. Potter, the richest and meanest man in the county.” Joseph replied.
The boys kept walking up the street and pushed Conner into the open doorway of the drugstore, shouting their signature ‘hee haw’. Conner walked inside, closed his eyes and pulled the lever of a nearby cigar lighter, which rarely worked.
“I wish I had a million dollars.” Conner said.
He opened his eyes to find that the flame had flickered on.
“Hot dog!” Conner exclaimed.
He whistled a merry tune as he walked over to a hook where his apron was hanging.
“It’s me, Mr. Gower, Conner Bailey.” Conner called.
Mr. Gower looked through the glass of the checking counter, a severe expression on his wrinkled face.
“You’re late!” Mr. Gower rasped.
“Yes, sir.” Conner said, his happy attitude immediately extinguished.
Mr. Gower eyed Conner, his hands shaking. He unscrewed the cap to a bottle of whiskey and took a long drink. A blonde girl was sitting at the counter, around Conner’s age. Another girl, a brunette walked into the drugstore and climbed atop a stool.
“Hello Conner!” She exclaimed, then disdainfully looked at the blonde girl next to her.
“Hello Breanne.” She said reluctantly.
“Hello, Bella.” Breanne replied, not bothering to look at her.
“Two cents worth of shoelaces?” Conner asked, fiddling with a spool.
“She was here first.” Bella said, jerking a thumb in Breanne’s direction.
“I’m still thinking.” Breanne said determinedly.
“Shoelaces?” Conner asked.
“Yes please, butterboy!” Bella exclaimed.
Conner walked over to the other side of the store to get Bella’s shoelaces.
“I like him.” Bella said, leaning towards Breanne.
“You like every boy.” Breanne replied.
“What’s wrong with that?” Bella asked.
“Here you are.” Conner said, handing Bella her bag of shoelaces.
“Help me down?” Bella asked.
“Help you down?” Conner exclaimed, amused.
He promptly walked away, behind the counter. Bella grumbled and hopped down, bag of shoelaces in hand. Breanne made sure to maintain her forced smile until Conner had turned his back to put Bella’s money in the cash register. She stuck out her tongue at Bella, then turned back towards Conner.
“Made up your mind yet?” Conner asked, rinsing out a glass mug.
“I’ll take chocolate.” Breanne replied, a grin spreading across her face.
“With coconuts?” Conner asked, filling up her cup with ice cream.
“I don’t like coconuts.” Breanne stated, much to Conner’s surprise.
“You don’t like coconuts? Say, brainless, don’t you know where coconuts come from?” Conner asked, pulling a folded magazine from his back pocket.
“Lookit here!” Conner exclaimed, spreading out the magazine on the drugstore counter.
“From Tahiti and the Fiji Islands and the Coral Sea.” Conner explained.
“A new magazine! I’ve never seen this before.” Breanne exclaimed, reaching for it.
Conner picked it back up, pulling it out of her reach.
“Of course you never. Only us explorers can get it. I’ve been nominated for membership in the National Geographic Society.” Conner said, puffing out his chest in pride.
He leaned under the counter to get another scoop of ice cream. Breanne leaned over the counter to whisper in his ear.
“Is this the ear you can’t hear at all? Breanne asked.
Conner didn’t reply, just kept scooping ice cream into her cup.
“Conner Bailey, I’ll love you ’till the day I die.” Breanne whispered, then slid back to her side of the counter, very childishly satisfied with herself.
“I’m going out exploring someday, just watch. Maybe I’ll have three or four wives, wait and see.” Conner said obliviously.
Conner whistled as he sprinkled coconut all over Breanne’s chocolate ice cream.
“George, George!” Mr. Gower called.
“Yes, sir?” Conner replied, setting down the coconut spoon.
Mr. Gower poked his head out of his door, a cigar between his teeth and tears in his eyes.
“I’m not paying you to be a canary.” Mr. Gower said, stumbling back into his stockroom.
“No, sir.” Conner replied, confused.
He put a new spoon into Breanne’s ice cream and noticed a paper on the cash register. He picked it up and quickly read it.
WESTERN UNION TELEGRAM
MR EMIL GOWER
BEDFORD FALLS NY
WE REGRET TO INFORM YOU THAT YOUR SON ROBERT DIED VERY SUDDENLY THIS MORNING OF INFLUENZA STOP EVERYTHING POSSIBLE WAS DONE FOR HIS COMFORT STOP WE AWAIT INSTRUCTIONS FROM YOU STOP
EDWARD MELLINGTON
PRESIDENT HAMMERTON COLLEGE
Conner paused, shocked. He handed Breanne her ice cream without even looking at her. He walked through the wooden doorway, where Mr. Gower was loading a prescription box for a sick child.
“Mr. Gower, do you want something, anything?” Conner asked.
“No.” Mr. Gower replied.
“Anything I can do back here?” Conner offered.
“No.” Mr. Gower answered, dropping a couple pills onto the ground.
“I’ll get them, sir.” Conner said, reaching down to grab them.
“Take those capsules over to Mrs. Blaine’s. She’s waiting for them.” Mr. Gower said tearfully.
“Yes sir.” Conner said.
Mr. Gower walked to the back of the stockroom and sank into his chair. On the shelf next to him sat a photograph of a handsome young man. Conner turned around the pill bottle that Mr. Gower had loaded into the prescription. It read;
POISON
Conner nervously walked over to where Mr. Gower was sitting, glancing at the poison bottle and back to Mr. Gower.
“They have the diptheria there, haven’t they, sir?” Conner asked.
Mr. Gower groaned, not looking up from the picture of his son.
“Is it a charge, sir?” Conner asked.
“Yes, charge.” Mr. Gower muttered.
“Mr. Gower, I think-” Conner began.
“Get going!” Mr. Gower yelled.
“Yes, sir.” Conner replied, glancing back at Mr. Gower.
Conner glanced at a sign in the window reading:
ASK DAD, HE KNOWS
Conner ran out of the store, prescription in hand. Breanne sat at the counter and watched him go, disappointed.
