A PLACE OF REFUGE
Collection

A Shadow in the Daytime

Opening Scene

Casper, Wyoming 1919

Beads of sweat popped out on Aaron Forester’s upper lip as he stared at the ambulance, his feet rooted to the ground.

It’s just a truck. The war’s over. There are no guns, no wounded soldiers.

It wasn’t the first converted ambulance he’d seen since returning from the war in Europe, but the memories didn’t disappear when he was discharged from the army. He sucked in a deep breath and ordered his feet into motion. His boss, Duncan MacKenzie, and Duncan’s son, Colin, loaded the last of the tools into the back of the work truck and slammed the doors.

“C’mon, Aaron, let’s go.” Colin’s grin punctuated his statement. “There’s a little diner on the other side of Casper where they serve the best hotcakes you ever tasted.”

The three of them crowded into the cab and Duncan double-clutched and ground the gears. The truck lurched forward.

Once chugging down the road, Duncan started whistling Standing On The Promises, and Colin added his baritone.  Aaron knew all four verses by heart, but he didn’t join in. He mentally closed his ears, not wanting to think about the promises he’d made–and broken.

Colin squirmed sideways. “So, Aaron, Dad tells me he’s hired you to build the addition on our cabin.”

Aaron nodded. “The place sounds nice.” And quiet. And isolated. “I appreciate you offering me the job. I wasn’t sure where I’d go next after the work on the Casper courthouse was finished.”

Colin nudged him with his elbow. “After seeing the kind of work you did on the courthouse, I suspect we’re the ones getting the better end of the deal. Some of that trim work was as good as I’ve ever seen.”

“Thanks.” Aaron squinted as the sun streamed through the truck windshield.

Duncan pointed to the distant mountains.  “I’ve never found a place better suited to communing with God. We can talk to God anywhere—while we’re working, in church, even in the middle of a crowd. But sometimes we just have to get alone with Him in order to hear Him.”

Duncan was a godly man and a fair boss, but Aaron didn’t feel much like talking about God. Drifting from one construction job to another since returning home from the war, he’d felt at a loss for purpose. He’d had a purpose … once. Now he floundered. One thing was certain—he was no longer of any use to God. So hearing God speak to him was as unlikely as hearing an aria sung by hound dog.