The Influence(6)

He spent the rest of the afternoon putting things away, checking his email every other minute and walking around, pacing. He felt restless, unsure of what to do with himself, and thought he had probably made a huge mistake in coming here. He was not a rural/country/wilderness kind of guy; this wasn’t the place for someone like him. He wasn’t going to sit in his room and write a novel, wasn’t going to set up an easel and paint a picture of the surrounding scenery. He was an engineer, for God’s sake. He worked on projects, with other people, in a crowded office, and even his leisure activities involved city life. But out here he couldn’t go to movies or clubs or concerts, couldn’t hang with his friends at a pizza joint or do any of the things he usually did.

At least he had his computer.

He played Plants vs. Zombies and Angry Birds until Lita stepped into the yard and announced that it was time to eat. Glancing through the window, he was surprised to see that the day was gone and it was dark already. Walking between the two buildings, he could see the lights of town in the distance, slightly downslope, though the road to the ranch had seemed flat. Above, an amazing array of stars filled the sky, so thick in spots that they appeared to be clouds. He hadn’t noticed such details when he’d come up last month for the weekend, and it hit him that he was no longer a tourist. He lived here. For now, at least, this was his home.

He had never felt more alone.

Unsure of the etiquette involved, he knocked on the kitchen door and waited for Lita to open it before going inside. “Don’t be so formal,” she admonished him.

“I wasn’t sure—”

“If there’s something you’re not supposed to see,” she said, “the door will be locked. Otherwise, just come in. Our house is yours.”

Sitting at the kitchen table, Dave reddened.

“Well, uh, thanks,” Ross managed to get out.

“Welcome to my world,” Dave said wryly.

Lita smiled. “He loves it.”

Neither of them were quite sure to what she was referring, so they did not respond as Ross sat down awkwardly at the table across from Dave.

Lita had made chicken enchiladas, from a recipe in the cookbook he’d given her. “But it’s not exact,” she warned. “I had to change a few things because we didn’t have all the ingredients. As you might have noticed, out here we can’t just run down to the local supermarket if we need something.”

“Now that you mention it, where do you get your groceries?” Ross wondered.

“We make a monthly run over to Willcox for the things that’ll keep,” Dave said, motioning toward the open larder to the right of the refrigerator. “Beans, rice, detergent, what have you. There’s a small grocery store in town for some of the day-to-day stuff, but a lot of things we barter or buy from neighbors.”

“Or pick up at the farmer’s market,” Lita offered, bringing over a plate of enchiladas.

“Or pick up at the farmer’s market,” Dave agreed. “We sell there, too.”

“There might not be as many choices as there are in a big city,” Lita conceded. “But we eat a lot healthier now than I did when I was growing up. A lot more fresh food and homemade items.” She touched her husband’s shoulder, their earlier fight—whatever it was about—obviously over. “It suits us.”

Ross nodded and bit into the food she’d put in front of him. “Delicious,” he proclaimed, and meant it.

“Thank you. And thanks for the cookbook.”

They ate. And talked. About things in general, about nothing in particular. It was nice, pleasant, and time flew by, but eventually they finished eating, and Ross looked through the window at the shack across the yard. The lights were on in the small building, but around it, all was black. It made him feel depressed to realize that this was where he lived now, in what was basically a studio apartment surrounded by a lot of nothing.

The feeling must have shown on his face, because Lita put her hand on his. “What are you thinking?”

“To be honest,” Ross said, “I don’t know how long I’m going to be able to take this. I’ve been here for, what, four hours? And already I’m lost. I don’t know what to do with myself.”

“Culture shock,” she told him. “I felt the same way when I first came here. But you’ll get acclimatized pretty quickly. And once you get used to it, you’ll wonder how you ever ran in the rat race.”

“Maybe. But right now, I’m looking at a lot of free time.”

“You can go online, look for work.”

“That’s a whole hour out of the day.” He leaned forward. “Dave. I was wondering if you have some jobs I could do around this place, something I can help you with. Not for payment,” he added quickly. “But to, you know, pull my weight.”