Nobody knew that this humble Spanish goatherd was in fact a remarkably unique individual.
It would have been open to conjecture as to why this one man should have been the only recipient of such exclusivity, but only if such a thing ever became public knowledge. As it was, the world simply didn’t know about it, and he wasn’t about to tell anybody. The man himself often pondered similar questions about his exceptional circumstances. His neighbours found him to be a quiet and generally sullen man, although quite content with his life. They had no inkling of the secret he held, but they did see that he was a very successful goatherd. In that, he was held in high esteem.
The small, almost empty room at the back of his house had a solid door that was padlocked. Neither his wife nor his children were permitted to enter there, or to disturb him when he was in it. The room had only one cheap stick of furniture in the form of a small table. On it, sat an ancient black telephone with numbered holes in a rotatable dial. This dial was never used. In fact, the phone itself was not connected in any way. It had a short, visible stub of cable hanging out the back. It never rang. It was always available.
The goatherd stood outside for a while, staring up into an empty sky. He turned and went into the house. At the back room he set the code, removed the padlock, entered and closed the door, latching it on the inside. He moved to the table and picked up the bulky receiver. There was an instant click, and he said, “Hello.”
“Well, hello to you,” came the voice, “I haven’t heard from you for some time.”
“No. Sorry, I’ve been busy with my animals.”
“Of course you have, no need to apologise. How are the wife and kids?
“All doing well, thank you.”
“So, what can I do for you?”
“Well, as you know, my goats forage on the shrubs around this area.”
“Yes, of course.”
“Well, of late there has been little rain in this area and even the hardiest shrubs are beginning to wither.”
At the other end God chuckled. “Not a problem… I’ll look into it.”