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Come on and hop aboard, as we fly around Oakdale, as do the denizens of this mystical town, and we will visit spots, the likes of which you'll see nary again. In this mystical place of Oakdale, bordering Brigadoon, no one drives a car anymore.....only car-pets. The carpets are faster, cleaner, and get you to your appointed place in the blink and wink of a eye. So, get comfortable as we take off for our ride, and don't lean over too much to the side, for we don't want you to experience a free-fall accident requiring medical treatment. You see, the free clinic has since closed down for want of good doctors and volunteers to work there. The hospital is in a state of confusion, for the old building you see there on the left, is called Memorial. The new right-wing expansion is called Oakdale General. All this is too confusing for the doctors billing services. Over there, at one o'clock, you can see the bell tower of the church. The bells don't sound anymore, and the tower is a haven for thousands of bats. Let me swing this carpet around a bit, and there, at twelve o'clock high, you can see the land preserve at the edge of town. A river now runs thru it, and close to the water's edge you can see the orange stakes that Brad Synder pounded into the ground before he dug by hand, the foundation of a house he was building for Ben & Camille. Brad worked 'round the clock, and the night he started to dig the foundation, he could have sworn he heard voices nearby. He thought, especially, he heard the shrill of a woman's voice....saying, "Yes, he's dead, he's dead....I'll help you bury him". Over there, bordering Oakdale, at seven o'clock, is Milltown. You can see the faded paint on Sparky's Garage. Since cars aren't used very much except for carrying around dead bodies, or baby switchings, Sparky's business went downhill very quickly. I believe he now runs his establishment in Peoria, a busy city. Look quickly through the window in the back room of the garage, and you will see a black & white checker patterned floor.....that was Mike Kasnoff's place. Notice that there are no sheets on the bed. Mike tore them off the mattress one morning, and never replaced them. Over one block, stands Jack's house and beyond the house you will see stacks of wood that once was part of a treehouse. The treehouse was a gift to Connor, and if treehouses could talk, that one would tell a titilating tale. Over there, at eleven o'clock, is the neighboring town of Groverton. The house there with the long driveway, was where Rita lived, and took care of Melinda. It has been said that someone is living in the basement of that house still. The possibility is a good one that it is Rita. Back there, at ten o'clock, stands the rubble of what was once, Alec's mountainside retreat. After Eddie slammed the door shut, vowing never to see the place again, the cornerstone fell out, weakening the cabin so, that during the very next wind storm, the cabin collapsed. Some people believe the place is haunted by Alec's ghost. I'll swing this carpet around as we head back, and I'll point out, at five o'clock, that patch of water there, is known as "Snyder Pond". No one goes there anymore, there is an unmistakable stench to the water. Boy, if that beachhead could talk, it would tell you very interesting stories. Just over the pond, still at five o'clock, is the beginning of Cal's back forty. On that stretch there, is where Conner took a tumble, red boots and all. To the left a little ways, you can see an old carriage house, home to Lily & Holden when they were first married, then Angel moved in there. At six o'clock, stands what once was a castle, now it has been refurbished and turned into condo's. As I turn back, at three o'clock you will see the old World Wide Towers. The building has been neglected and therefore condemned by the city to make way for a new pulp making industry, to feed Oakdale's growing need for tons of paper. A few blocks away from the Towers, stands a mall, which has been closed down for lack of customers. Since Aunt Mary's Cookies closed shop, nothing draws customers to the mall....not even the exclusive "Fashions" shoppe. Barbara Ryan must be selling clothes out of a mail order catalog. As I pass over the water, to the left you can see what remains of the Yacht Club. Mildew covers the patio furniture, and the pool is rusted over. People would come here to gander at the beautiful waitresses, beauties like Julie, Courtney, and the like. The clientele now frequent Al's Diner for its ambience and good cheer. Beyond the Yacht Club, just two hundred feet or so from the pier, thru the murky water, you will see the outline of what was once the Valleta. Barnacles and sea urchins now encrust its decks, the decks that once was graced with ladies in flowing gowns and men in tuxedos......the high life. Oh, and that dock over there, don't ever walk its planks....foul things happen there to all sorts of regular people. And by no means, ever have a picnic there, you'll never get to finish eating the goodies. Beware of the mist which enshrouds the area, evil lurks there. Our tour has ended, let me now land this carpet. Come back another time for another ride, and see the sights of which you'll never see again.
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