The computer services department was housed in the back corner of Dennis’s main floor, closest to the emergency stairwell. The department consisted of a main workroom divided into three staff cubicles and a small conference area. My office was tucked into a small area in the back.
When Dean Klink and I entered the department, we found the conference table covered with a computer graveyard worthy of my collection. Two men sat hunched over a table sorting through the pieces.
“Clark, Miller, look who I brought.” Charlie’s jovial voice cut the silence. “This is Chloe Humphrey.”
Jonathan Clark shook my hand. “Nice to meet you.” The tall African-American man spoke in a baritone voice. He was the first nonwhite person I had seen since arriving in Appleseed Creek. I was surprised I hadn’t noticed this before, considering I had lived with Tanisha’s African-American family throughout high school.
Darren Miller was as short as Clark was tall. He tugged at spiky, dark blond hair and fidgeted in his desk chair until I extended my hand to him. He shook it, and when he did, nervous energy reverberated through his fingertips. Would he be patient enough for computer programming?
“You have one more member of your staff. His name is Joel Schrock.” Charlie’s eyes darted around the room. “Joel must have stepped away from his desk.”
Clark and Miller shared a look.
Charlie opened my office door, then placed the key ring on my desk. “Those are for you. They include keys to Dennis, the two campus computer labs—they are down the hall—your office, the server room, and a few other places I can’t remember. Just ask Joel. He’s worked for Harshberger a long time. He knows the ins and outs of the entire campus. He’ll be your go-to man.”
“Thank you.”
“We are so happy to have you on board, Chloe. Harshberger is small but mighty.”
He considered his watch. “Oh dear, I have an academic review meeting in twenty minutes. I’m sure you won’t have too much trouble, and if you do, they’ll come around, you’ll see.” He wiggled his fingers in farewell.
Trouble? What kind of trouble?
Clark scrunched his nose. “Do you think Klink realized he just compared Harshberger to dog food? Small but mighty?”
“Naw. He probably thought he made that up,” Miller said. He held up his hand, and Clark gave him a high five.
I broke into their gab session. “How small is Harshberger?”
“We have around seven hundred students,” Clark said.
“That’s tiny.”
“You didn’t research the college before moving here?” Clark asked.
“Well, I was interviewed last Wednesday. Dean Klink offered me the job over the phone and asked me to start as soon as possible. I didn’t have enough time to research the college as much as I normally would have.” I didn’t tell them how desperate I was for a job—any job—and that this one seemed tailor-made for me. At least it did over the phone. Maybe I should have asked more questions before accepting.
Miller turned a wireless mouse over and over again in his hands. “Joel was right.”
Clark widened his eyes at Miller.
Miller shrugged and said it again. “Joel was right about what?” I asked.
Clark laughed. “Just ignore Miller. Sometimes what he says doesn’t make sense. Programmer talk. If you hear him muttering to himself throughout the day, don’t be alarmed.”
Yeah, right. I reminded myself to breathe. “What are your positions here?”
Clark spoke for both of them. “I’m the media guy. Video, audio, stuff like that. I set up for campus events. Miller is a programmer, as if you couldn’t tell from his mole-like squint.”
Miller ignored the comment.
I hid a smile. “Do either of you want to show me around?”
Miller and Clark shared another look. “Joel will want to do that.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Okay.”
I skirted around the enormous desk and sat in my captain’s chair. Although small, the office had a nice window that overlooked a pond. Charlie had called the pond Archer Lake, but it wasn’t large enough to hold a rowboat, and the dozen or so mallards wading in it jostled for space. Compared to Lake Erie where I grew up, Archer was a puddle.
I opened my briefcase and pulled out the two frames that held my master’s degrees, and a third, a photo of Tanisha and me. I set all three on the desk for the time being and logged onto my new work e-mail account. Nothing of any importance there yet—mostly generic campus announcements and a few welcome e-mails. One welcome e-mail was from Clark, which made me feel a little better. I wasn’t sure what was going on in the computer services department, but I was surprised by how nervous the dean became when we stepped into the office. What could possibly make the man so nervous? And what was Joel right about?
I shook away my thoughts, making way for new ones. I typed “rumspringa Amish” into Google and thousands of hits came back. I leaned toward the screen. Rumspringa was loosely translated as “running around.” It was a time of freedom for Amish youth, a time for them to consider whether or not to join the church. The website said that after joining the church, the young men and women were expected to get married and raise families.
I typed “Amish Ohio” into my search engine and received even more hits. Holmes County was the largest concentration of Amish in the state and country with a population more than twenty thousand. Although a smaller population than Holmes, Amish have lived in Knox County for generations.
A male voice spoke up behind me. “Researching the locals, I see.”
I jumped and closed the browser, then spun my chair to find a man in about his early fifties standing over me. His pale complexion looked nearly translucent against his neatly parted brown hair. A roll of fat hung over his waistband.
I stood. “I’m Chloe Humphrey.”
“I know who you are. I’m Joel Shrock.” He held out his hand, and I shook it, his palm damp. I fought the urge to wipe my hand on my pant leg.
“It’s nice to meet you. You’re the assistant director of our department, correct?”
His lip curled when I said “assistant,” and he didn’t respond.
“I know we will be working closely together. I’m sure we will get along just great.” I found myself babbling, and the more I did, the more Joel scowled.
He glared at the two master’s degrees on my desk, one in computer programming, the other in information technology. “I know those fancy degrees from those lofty schools are the reason you got this job.” He examined me. “But by the looks of you, you won’t be here long.”
I recoiled. True, it wasn’t my plan to be in Appleseed Creek long, but that was my choice, not some employee’s. I laughed as if he’d told a joke. “It’s only my first day, but I’m excited to get to work.”
He scowled. “I thought you’d like to see the server room.”
I set my jaw. “I would.”
I waved to Clark and Miller as we passed through the workroom, but both stayed hunched over their computers with their heads down. Something was going on, and I made a mental note to ask Dean Klink about it at the first opportunity. What had I gotten myself into?
I followed Joel down the employee stairs and through a labyrinth of dark hallways to reach a far corner of the building with a locked door. Since summer classes were over and the faculty wasn’t on campus, the classrooms, offices, and hallways sat empty.
Joel unlocked the door, and inside loomed a seven-foot tall rack of ten servers. The hum of them at work soothed my nerves. This was my strength. This is what I knew. Here, I was the expert.
I stepped closer to the rack and examined the machines, black rectangles, one stacked on top of the other. My shoulders tensed. “These models are at least nine years old.” Usually a server was replaced every five years, max. Keeping one any longer than that was gambling with your network. I zeroed my sights on Joel. “What’s the server replacement plan?”
He smirked. “I suppose that’s your decision as director.”
I blew out a breath and slipped out of the room, the closed space far too tight. Especially with Joel snarling over my shoulder.
Joel closed and locked the door behind us. “I guess you have your work cut out for you, Miss Director.” He turned and stomped away, leaving me alone to find my own way back to my office.