Dreama Sue Walker · Tijuana, Mexico

From Main Street to Tijuana, the rule is the same — make a record. These days, readers in Tijuana write to the town by the dozen, and Come by the lore pages; Tijuana always has a seat.

Before there was a McSkunkville, there was the fruit trade — the great American caravan of stands and stalls, cash boxes and handshakes, peaches by the basket and watermelons by the truckload — and Dreama Sue Walker is one of its original legends. They called that traveling nation of roadside sellers the Fruit Mafia, and they meant it with respect: a family trade with its own roads, its own rules, and its own royalty.

Dreama came up in that world and carried it with her — the instinct for a fair deal, the memory for a face, the gift for turning a parking lot into a marketplace by noon. When the World of McSkunkville was imagined, she imagined it too: every market stall, every farm stand, and every honest cash box on the planet carries her fingerprints.

She is co-creator of everything McSkunkville, and the town treats her accordingly. In the sepia portrait that hangs in the courthouse hall, she stands beside the Creator on a city sidewalk — two makers, one story, and a universe that exists because they said so.

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