A little run-of-the-mill drama.

THE MOVE

She stood in the kitchen of the manager’s home. She and I and the manager’s wife. She fidgeted, seeming unsettled, uncomfortable, unsure, and a little scared, perhaps. Through the kitchen window, I could see the U-Haul van with a ten-year-old pickup in tow. She and her husband had just driven eight hundred miles so that he could start a new job. She was worried about where to put her dog.

As I looked out the window, I remembered the times in my life when that was my U-Haul parked out front. New job, new town, new boss. It was exciting! I had been anxious to get started!

Her husband felt the same way, I guess. No sooner had he landed than he jumped in the new boss’s pickup, and they drove down the feed alley toward the mill. He looked as exhilarated as a kid at Christmas! Three weeks ago, this feedlot owner had sought him out and offered him the job as mill manager at a healthy raise in pay. There is nothing better for a man’s ego except possibly an old sweetheart who jilted you getting fat.

As an afterthought, he shouted back to his wife, “See ya in a minute!”

Back in the kitchen, I stood watching this woman . . . a stranger in a new land. You could hear the page turning in her life. She would remember this day forever.

It occurred to me that how she was treated in the next few days would determine how good an employee her husband would become.

She had not given one moment’s thought to the size of the broiler, the number of front-end loaders, the condition of the elevator pits, or the grain on hand. She was worried about their nest. She needed to define her territory.

She would mentally note if the furnished company house was clean. If the carpet was in good shape, if there were water spots on the wall, if the appliances were old or new. If there were places for the kids, the dog, and her plants.

In the first week, she’d find out what kind of people her husband worked for. Would they fix the broken showerhead? Would they replace the torn curtain in the kids’ room?

If they treated her like baggage, she would protectively conclude that they didn’t appreciate her husband, either.

How important do you think her opinion is? Do you think it is in her power to make her husband go to work a happy man? Or, on the other hand, to make his life miserable?

I was jogged from my reverie by the manager’s wife’s voice: “I know you’re tired from travelin’ all day, but I imagine you’d like to take a look at the house we’ve got for you. We’ve just redone the bathroom. . . . Oh, and bring the dog.”

You could see the change in her eyes.