4

Chad stood, staring at the refrigerator with his hand pressed over his stomach. Instead of opening it, he continued to stare at the closed door.

During the first night in Ted’s home, the complete silence had unnerved him. But last night, he’d slept longer and deeper than he’d ever slept in his whole life. It made him think that if Ted couldn’t get a flight back for a few more days, he’d get so used to the soundlessness that when he got back home the noises that used to lull him to sleep would jolt him like a clanging gong all night long. He’d never experienced such peaceful silence in his life. He could get used to the nighttime void that was Piney Meadows. Without the stresses of the job eating at him like they usually did, even in his dreams, and without having to block out the clatter of the night, he felt like a bear waking after a winter-long hibernation.

Except unlike a bear, he wasn’t the least bit hungry, despite knowing the volume of delicious leftovers waiting for him when he finally opened the refrigerator door. He’d eaten so much for Christmas dinner he technically shouldn’t need to eat again until sometime next week.

Piney Meadows was unlike any place he’d ever been. Outside, it was almost as quiet as it had been all night. Since today was a normal working day and he didn’t have a job to go to, today was his chance to find out if Piney Meadows was as peaceful during the daytime as it had been at night. He suspected not just Christmas Eve and Christmas Day quieted the people of Piney Meadows; it looked like the whole town shut down every day once the sun set, and it didn’t appear too active in the daytime, either.

His mind jumped over all the possibilities for his future. If he really did move forward with the job Ted had spoken of, he’d never again need to force himself to sleep through the never-ending white noise of the city. If he didn’t get the job here, of course he would go back to Minneapolis. Besides looking for another job, he needed to find another place to live, since he’d received an eviction notice.

His heart sank at the thought of the kinds of places that might be available to him. He doubted any decent place would let him sign a lease given his current economic status. The possibility existed that he could put the few pieces of furniture he had in storage, and he’d find himself sleeping on a friend’s couch until he found a job and could sign another lease and buy more furniture.

When he found another job, he was also going to have to pay money to find Brittany, and the sooner the better.

With an unsure future in front of him, he started mentally kicking himself for being so impulsive as to quit, but as the saying went, hindsight is twenty-twenty. Being here in Piney Meadows without the means to get home slammed a number of doors shut. By now, Gary had not only seen the damaged monitor and that Chad’s personal effects had been cleaned out, he would also have seen the note, which hadn’t been the most respectful or professional way to terminate his employment. Even if he went back to Gary begging on his hands and knees, Gary wouldn’t take him back—everyone in the office would have seen the statement he’d made when he left. Gary’s pride would never allow him to hire Chad back.

So for now, Chad would make the best of this time off. Even though Ted had promised to return the day after Christmas—which was today—Chad doubted that Ted would be able to book a flight. He also had doubts Ted could get a seat on standby.

Still, no matter how long it took Ted to come back, Chad wouldn’t starve. Susan had given him enough leftovers to last a week, even though he’d told her he expected to be leaving within a day. Now he hoped he wouldn’t be. He could take the enforced time here to think and plan.

Chad let his mind wander to summarize the previous day. Anna was a sweet woman, and her family, except for her father, were just as sweet and pleasant as she was. Her father seemed to have strong opinions on what was right and wrong, but still, Chad could tell Peter was a good man—just a little regimented.

Their home was even simpler than Ted’s, which he found surprising, because Ted lived alone. In addition, their house was smaller, yet five people lived in one small three-bedroom bungalow.

The first thing Chad had noticed when he entered their living room was that, just like Ted, they didn’t have a television.

Then, when he’d gone into the kitchen to meet his hostess, he’d tried not to let his mouth drop open when he saw Susan and Sarah both wearing the same kind of bonnets that the ladies on stage had worn during the play, as well as the same ugly dresses. Anna had also worn the same kind of dress, but it seemed to fit a little better.

Now that he thought about it, at the church, many of the ladies in the audience were wearing the same type of outfit, including the bonnets. During the play, he’d thought it might have been some kind of dress-up event, but apparently, it was the ladies’ normal mode of dress.

He’d read of such communities in the newspaper but never paid much attention. Now he wished he had.

He now had to think most of the people he’d seen on Christmas Eve who were residents lived a similar lifestyle—simple, old fashioned, and deeply set in the ways of their faith. And they all went to bed early.

While he waited for Ted to phone, Chad decided to turn on Ted’s computer and google this place to see what kind of future he might have if he stayed.

The computer wasn’t new but it was certainly good enough for what he needed. He turned it on, waited for the operating system to boot up, then clicked the browser.

Instead of one of the search engine sites for the home page, a note came up that he wasn’t hooked up to the Internet.

Chad’s mouth tightened into a frown. He didn’t want to do anything to upset Ted’s system, and he hoped all he had to do was reboot the modem. Except he couldn’t find it.

He got down on his hands and knees and crawled under the desk, just in case the modem was on top of the tower . . . but it wasn’t.

Chad ran his fingers through his hair. He’d looked in every room in Ted’s house to discover that Ted didn’t have a television. But Ted had a computer, and while he’d been talking to Anna, she’d mentioned Ted connecting to his office from his home, so Chad knew his computer was online.

He sprawled all the way under the desk, and using his cell phone for light, looked at the back of the computer and wiggled all the connections.

Oddly, he didn’t see a black cable to connect to the modem. He did find a telephone line coming from the back, which was odd because Ted didn’t have this room set up as an office, so he doubted Ted had a fax line for his computer. Just in case, he traced the phone wire to a jack in the wall, telling him that Ted had an ISDL hookup, which didn’t make sense, because there still should have been a modem.

Then, sitting on the floor, he stared at the monitor.

In the corner was an icon that said “Internet.”

He reached forward for the mouse and clicked it.

A dial tone sounded, followed by the beeps of numeric dialing. A hiss sounded, then an electronic screech, two digital bong-like tones, ending with a long electronic hiss.

All Chad could do was stare. He’d heard these sounds while watching a documentary on the Internet. This was . . . a dial-up connection. He’d heard of it but never experienced it. A documentary had said that about five percent of the population still used dial-up.

As quickly as he could, Chad pushed himself up to his knees and worked the mouse to close the connection. He didn’t know enough about dial-up to know if Ted might be paying for long distance charges for his Internet connection.

Chad shook his head.

No television, no cable modem or wireless . . . Yesterday—Christmas Day—Anna, her mother, and her sister had worn little white bonnets and old-world dresses that looked like something out of the 1800s—just like what the women in the play had worn on stage, only this was real life.

And yesterday he couldn’t help noticing the disparity of the division of responsibility—it was like watching old reruns of Leave It to Beaver, only worse.

Yet, the ladies didn’t seem unhappy. It seemed . . . normal.

What kind of place was this?

He tried to get a mental picture of the town but couldn’t. During the journey from the church to Ted’s house it had been dark, and he’d been in the back seat of Ted’s car, not able to see much. In the daylight he’d only experienced what he could see as he walked from Ted’s house to Susan and Peter’s house next door.

Just as he pushed himself to his feet so he could look out the window, the phone rang.

“Ted’s house,” he answered.

“This is Ted. How are you, Chad? I hope you had a merry Christmas.”

“I did.” Although, maybe that was because it had been so different from anything he’d ever experienced. It felt like home, even though the home and family weren’t his. “I hope you did, too.”

“I did. But I am calling to say that I could not get a flight, and that everything is full yet for a few more days. Are you still interested in applying for the position as general manager at the furniture factory? If you are, everyone is back to work today, and my Onkel Bart would like to interview you, since I cannot.”

Chad gulped and stiffened, even though he was alone. Maybe more alone than he’d ever been in his life.

The old saying made up of half truth and half sarcasm flashed through his mind—this is the first day of the rest of your life.

This was it—that proverbial first day.

He could thank Ted for his kind offer, go home, and beg Gary for his job back, and maybe if he ate enough crow, it would happen. He could get his professional life back on track, but was that what he wanted? The reason he was stranded here in Nowheresville, USA, was because he’d been driven past his level of tolerance. He couldn’t go back to that.

A shiver ran up his spine recalling Peter’s words—even though Chad was only here because he had run out of gas, Peter believed the real reason was because God had a reason. Chad couldn’t imagine God getting involved in his life now. God hadn’t done anything in his life for years, and if God really cared, he wouldn’t be in his current situation, either professionally or personally.

Peter was obviously mistaken. But the fact did remain—the need for a change burned in Chad’s gut. But when he’d walked out on his job, he hadn’t seen the change being this big.

If he actually got the job here in Piney Meadows, he couldn’t project how his life would change, only that the change would be big. He’d only been outside the city limits of Minneapolis once, when a friend had taken him fishing. The first thing he’d done when he got back to the city was to head straight for Starbucks.

Chad doubted Piney Meadows had a Starbucks.

Piney Meadows only had one gas station. And it was closed by 5:00 p.m. on Christmas Eve.

Piney Meadows. Where there was no television, limited Internet, and definitely no Walmart.

He didn’t think he’d have to go very far and he’d find . . . cows.

He’d wanted a change in his life, and he couldn’t see anything being more of a change than this.

Chad cleared his throat. “Yes. I’d love to set up a meeting with your uncle.”

This was it. The first day had begun.