The Wolf Drill
The townsfolk arrived, bleary-eyed and barely dressed, baring torches, pitchforks, and the occasional rusty weapon retired from honorable service. Despite the late hour, they mustered their bodies and courage and charged into the sheepfold.
They feared they would find a monster. They found a laughing boy.
The militia was afraid some terror had left him hysterical beyond reckoning. After surveying the glen, Arthur Mender, a retired soldier-turned-cobbler, bravely approached the young boy who had cried wolf. It was Basil, the Mayor's son.
"Is everything alright, Basil?"
Basil wiped tears from his eyes. "You should have seen the looks on your faces!"
Arthur's emotions turned from confusion to anger. Basil was laughing at the men who had come to save him.
The crowd paced in circles around the sleeping sheep, talking themselves down from the fight they had been prepared for. Their choler was released in terse sentences. Some phrases resonated and were repeated to the other peers. Their mood stabilized as they concluded, "Tomorrow, we talk to the mayor."
Although it was not a high bar, the Mayor's office was the town's fanciest building. The militia, now unarmed, entered through a garden grown for beauty rather than subsistence. Arthur hesitated at the threshold, but his courage renewed after his fingers grasped the knife hilt at his belt.
Many in the crowd had hoped to ambush the Mayor and express their anger. But even this rudimentary plan was thwarted at step one when the Mayor welcomed them inside and offered burdock root tea.
"We don't want tea," Arthur stated. "We want to talk about last night."
"Why, yes!" the Mayor had exclaimed. "I need to thank you for your participation in last night's wolf drill."
"Drill?" asked a young farmer.
"Why, yes. It is crucial to build familiarity with these procedures. A wolf - or something far worse - could attack us any night. Yesterday — or, shall I say, this morning — was a test of your readiness, participation, and ability."
"It didn't feel that way, sir. It felt like your son was having a laugh."
The Mayor held out his hands in a placating gesture. "Did the boy take mirth in his duty? Good. We should all take pride and pleasure in a job well done."
The Mayor pointed to the least confident-looking member of the rabble.
"What's your name, son?"
Acne riddled the young man's underfed, dirty face. "Caspar, sir."
"Caspar, are you proud of how you responded to the call last night? Do you feel like you were an honorable member of the watch?"
Caspar looked around the room in confusion, unable to retain the anger he had joined that morning.
"I... I suppose so, sir."
"As you should!" exclaimed the Mayor. "As should you all! Now, the next question is how we can achieve continuous improvement. Caspar, I will give you a special role befitting your position as an honorable watch member. You will be responsible for tracking certain Key Performance Indicators and maintaining the Incident log."
"A key to the what now?"
"Yes, simple metrics like 'what is the response rate,' or 'response time,' et cetera. You can't manage what you can't measure."
Arthur's brow furrowed. All of this was wrong. Had the Mayor invented this to excuse his mischievous son? Could Caspar even read?
"I will help with the keys as well!" chimed in another young boy, who also probably couldn't read.
"Very good!" said the Mayor. "We'll be able to benchmark and track our progress throughout our surprise drills."
"Hold on just one moment," said Arthur. "How many of these drills do you expect us to do?"
The Mayor looked at Arthur with a gentle, condescending concern. "Are you worried we'll be too safe?"
Arthur again felt his heart begin to pound, just like it had the night before. Safety. He had stared down threats far scarier than a wolf and survived by charging into the danger, not retreating into paperwork. This Mayor knew nothing about danger, and he could not grant safety.
Cold choler swept from Arthur's gallbladder through his body, focusing his mind and bringing the danger to this room. Arthur drew a knife and slammed it tip-first into the table holding the Mayor's delicate tea kettle. The room went silent. Arthur gently tapped his chest as he spoke with the hard steel of contained anger.
"We all care about safety. Like you said, the night is full of dangers. Wolves and many other dangerous things." Arthur tapped his own chest even harder for emphasis. "I would hate for last night to happen again. Someone might get hurt. If not from a wolf, then perhaps from some other dangerous thing."
Although the townspeople had arrived in a mob, they now found themselves playing the role of phlegmatic spectators. All eyes turned to the Mayor to measure his response. His eyes widened in genuine shock and a moment of fear before resolving into authority. "Are you threatening my son? I do believe you are threatening my son! Guards, arrest this man."
Arthur's confinement was recorded in the Incident Log. Caspar, the Mayor, and the other watch members worked together to ensure the town's safety, and no one ever complained about the drills again.
The End.