Chapter 27: Hiding in Clouds

One nice thing about wealth is the ability to throw money at a problem, til it sinks. From my first meeting in the Nashua Alderman's Board, I had been going slowly crackers. Through long experience with my moods, I held things together for a few weeks. It was long enough to get some spadework done, such as creating a de facto board of directors. Then I had to get away from everyone.

In the past, I had taken Shadow for long drives in the hills of Appalachia, but that would not be enough this time. I wanted to get off the grid for a while. Given time to plan, I acquired a pile of stuff for wilderness use. Not being a former scout, Cloudrest was close enough to wilderness for my purposes. Mostly it was camping gear, food, lanterns and fuel, a solar power battery charger, wifi booster, water filter and things of that nature.

It started the previous fall. At my urging, two Boy Scout troops had a weekend camp out on Cloudrest's clearing. I personally gave them a tour of the various buildings. As a project, the boys hauled a ton or so of small rocks to the river bank. It was a troop vs. troop contest, with weight limits on the rocks, for safety reasons. A pair of wire mesh cylinders were set in the mud about six feet off shore. Most of the stones filled the cages, forming columns. The remaining rocks made a shelf on the bank. Some beams and planking completed a temporary small boat pier.

The boys were very proud of it. The Nashua paper ran an article with a group photo. Sheila made them all a nice folder of images and would not even consider accepting payment for her time. The scout troops more or less adopted me. Oddly, while I was considered unattractive by most standards, I made a great maternal image. Go figure.

In any event, I was invited to the ceremony where the (many) merit badges were distributed. Sean said Sheila watched the whole video, with tears running down her face. I did better, but I had more experience putting on a good front. The images made great discussion topics at Christmas.

After my FDC summit, I drove to the Residence. In addition to dropping off video and still images, I picked up one of the Amish girls, Sarah Beiler. Mother Lapp was loaning her for a week. Sarah was the most tomboy of Sean's staff and I needed company, for safety if nothing else. I also figured an Amish girl would be better at coping if the situation went sideways. Cooking over a wood fire was a bonus skill.

Among my other purchases was an old Ford Explorer, trailer and boat with motor. Before loading up, I took the empty boat across to check out the pier. The winter had taken a toll, but not too bad. There was a noticeable tilt, from one rock column settling, but the structure seemed sturdy enough. Without further ado, we set off for a week in the woods. I was glad the house was not far from the pier. All that gear was heavy.

Generally, I did not know what to expect. I grew up near wooded areas, but never spent time in them. Some camp gear, like sleeping bags and foam pads are pretty self-explanatory. Have you ever tried to start a Coleman lantern from directions, while the light is failing? We had campfire light the first night. In the morning, I decided to set up the tent inside the building. It was fucking cold, even indoors.

This is where bringing an Amish girl proved brilliant. At first light, Sarah was up, building the fire and preparing breakfast. All my attempts at help were met with disapproval, except pouring water into the filter. That she found interesting. During the campout, an Eagle Scout candidate collected water samples and had them analyzed. The spring water was safe for drinking in a pinch, but not for long term. I told Sarah the water might make us sick unless we filtered it or boiled it. This was good sense as far as she was concerned.

After breakfast, I set up my computer apparatus. The solar collectors were spread on a sunny rock. They would recharge my spare battery when it was drained. The antennae clamped as high on the main house as I could manage. George promised the battery on the modem would be good for twice what I needed. There was a sunny parlor. I set my laptop on a table the scouts made. If I did not need to write, it was good enough. I turned everything on and checked it, then powered down.

That done, I went to find Sarah. She was making a broom from a fallen branch and some evergreen boughs. That was one thing I forgot. A clipboard was another. I hoped I would never find out if something was missing from the first aid kit. I also brought a digital camera, but no charging cable. At my apartment, I always used the docking cradle.

Packed with the computer material, I found a three-in-one book of New England plants, animals and birds. I bought it as a reference for the trip, but I decided to give it to Sarah. Since I also brought binoculars, she could do some bird watching. She was delighted. In her gear was a pad of paper and a box of pencils. Sarah drew. It was news to me.

We set out to explore my hilltop meadow. The main house I knew well by this point. There was another largish building of uncertain purpose. Firewood storage? Maple rendering? Workshop? Whiskey still? It was a single large room with a massive fireplace. There were two spring houses (why two?) and what was likely a root storage. A fallen building might have been a smokehouse. Two buildings were nothing but charred stumps and foundation stones, probably the hay barn and stable.

Further out was the apple grove run wild. Sarah was very excited about that. We spent an hour scavenging small, wizened apples. Nearby was an impassable brier thicket. Sarah said they were berries. Every few minutes she would stop and open her drawing pad. She would draw the leaf or plant, then try to find it in the book. I told her to collect the leaves. She could spend her evenings doing drawings. Sarah sighed and agreed.

By the time we returned, it was late afternoon. I was tired and my feet were soaked from snow melt. No waterproof shoes. I had my leather raincoat, but nothing truly waterproof. Sarah made dinner, including a salad of greens she had collected, tossed with apple bits. The greens were strong and bitter, which contrasted well with the sweetness of the apple. I loved it. The beef jerky stew, not so much.

That evening, I dug into the stack of accumulated email. After less than 48 hours, I had over 200 business related messages. It was not hard to spot which of my people had significant corporate experience. They were less chatty, more likely to include relevant prior messages and much more likely to copy other people. Headings were very useful, but easily lost or changed.

I sent Elspeth a note, telling her to find some email training materials. One particularly clean string I sent to everyone, asking them to note how things hung together well. I commended the senders and asked everyone to emulate their work. It was much like passing back the first paper of a new term, with grades and comments. As I worked, familiar rhythms started to take over.

This was what I was good at doing. I could step back and sort out the tensions and dynamics. It was not a section of a large city, or generations of people returning to the city, but it was a problem of a sort I recognized. Basically, it was about the allocation of resources, specifically my time. There were things only I could do. We needed to focus on making those possible, even if I was unable to do some other things.

The list was not difficult:

・ I was an elected official. I needed to attend scheduled meetings.

・ I was the founder and managing director. That meant I dealt with higher powers, such as the Governor or the IRS.

・ I handled the tough decisions. Like it or not, I asked for it.

・ I was the Big Bad Wolf, when necessary.

・ I was our only lip reader. This one would be tricky. There are times when information is life, but I could not spend all my time gathering it.

Everything else was a distraction.

Put in those terms, some things were obvious. Driving myself had been a waste of time. Using Johnson, I could work in the car, but I needed a bigger car. I needed to be firmer in my delegations, but lighter in my supervision. Elspeth was worth her weight in gold, but she could not be my only contact. I needed to plan further growth.

I was less than two years out of college and I employed almost thirty people full or part time. It was past time for a formal plan. To that end, and some of the ones above, an MBA or CPA was becoming necessary. I knew just the place to find one—my little old lady circle. Something to do next week.

I powered down, changed the battery, hooked the old battery to the charger and went to find Sarah. We spent the rest of the evening discussing her drawings. They were good, but not professional. Suggesting lessons would not give good results. Sarah's Amish heritage would consider it excessive. However, I thought she and Sheila could do something together. As far as I knew, Sheila had no drawing skills, but no one had a better eye. For the moment, I showed Sarah what little I knew of using perspective in drawings.

That night I slept like a rock, perhaps because I had already made my decision. The company would learn to service itself. It was a simple idea, but one that would influence everything. For one thing, I was not the only one who would have the responsibility, so I would need to delegate authority. On the other hand, I could let the company serve me, as well as me serving it. That alone was a weight off my shoulders.

My experience was that projects could become all-consuming. To some extent, that was acceptable—in a project. Witness, for example, my first dissertation. Such maniacal devotion was less suitable as a lifestyle. During her decade-long pursuit of stability, Sheila had almost forgotten to live. For that matter, she was missing her true objective. What she really wanted was a safe place to raise children.

I had charged full speed into my adult life. What had I forgotten to do along the way? To mark a mental reference point, ten years before I had been a high school junior. My proudest achievement, then, was finally gaining some freedom from my tormentors.

That was what really let me sleep. In another year, I could attend my tenth-year reunion, with something to show. There was an article about me in a national magazine. I could wear a power suit like no one else. I had letters after my name. I had a company that called me boss. I held elected office. I had a standing invitation to visit the most sacred address, in the most honored city in the country, and call the hostess by her first name. What the fuck did I have left to prove?

Instead, I had time to spend with Sarah. She was, by the standards of most high school students, dreadfully naive. That said, she knew all about the physical realities of sex, even though she learned by watching farm animals. She knew about flock rams and herd bulls. She also knew that cats and bitches submitting to any male. She knew that geese were monogamous. Humans fit in all the above, and none.