Gone to Green Read Online Free PDF Page B

that had directed me to this room. They might not be much on desk service, but they sure had good penmanship.
     
    My first order of business was to call Marti back. When she picked up the phone, I burst into tears. “It's ugly,” I said. “It's dirty and ugly. The old owners are condescending, and the downtown looks abandoned. What have I done?”
     
    Marti immediately shifted into her logical mode. “Now, Lois, calm down. Don’t you think it’ll look better by light of day?”
     
    “I got here by light of day. It looks terrible. This town needs a makeover worse than I do.”
     
    “Aren’t you proud of yourself for getting out of Dayton? And taking care of Ed's pet project? You’re going to do great. You’re just tired. You’ve had a full day.”
     
    Her encouraging words and familiar laughter did help. Slowly, I began to feel better.
     
    “What would your mother say?” Marti asked. She had known my mother for only a couple of years but had loved her and often brought up her memory. Mom had appreciated the fact that Marti “kept an eye on me.”
     
    “She’d say for me to pray about it and get a good night's sleep. And to keep my hairbrush and panty hose clean.”
     
    “Okay, then what are you going to do?”
     
    “Cry and head back to Dayton.”
     
    “Not the answer I wanted to hear.”
     
    “I guess I’ll scrounge up a burger and hit the sack. Tomorrow I have to march into that building and meet a group of people who probably won’t like me and figure out how to make money out of this newspaper. On second thought, maybe I will pray. Talk to you tomorrow. And, Marti, don’t tell Zach.”
     
    If I was going to suffer, I sure didn’t want him to know.
     

4
     
    LuAnn Torti, director of the local feline rescue society, was
knocked unconscious this week by a cat who
pushed an antique pitcher off LuAnn's refrigerator ,
striking the animal lover on the back of the head.
“She's a sweet kitty and never would intentionally hurt
anyone,” LuAnn said, holding an icepack to her hair and
petting her baby with her other hand.
     
— The Green News-Item
     
    A fter taking advantage of both cups of coffee in the tiny pot in the room—one regular, one decaf—I replaced my pajamas with sweats and a T-shirt and stepped outside.
    The darkness of night still surrounded the Lakeside. I was definitely the only one stirring on day two of the New Year. The wind down here in North Louisiana was colder than I had expected. It blew off Bayou Lake with a dampness that ate into my midwestern bones. The complete darkness confused me, and I went back into the room to double-check the clock radio. It was, indeed, nearly 6:30 a.m.
     
    I grabbed a jacket and sat down in the plastic Adirondack chair on my small porch, curious and scared about what the day and the new year would bring.
     
    Slowly, a deep red sliver appeared. The sky exploded with pink and orange as the sun rose over the lake, a scene right out of a Louisiana travel brochure. Cypress trees grew everywhere, and Spanish moss glowed in the morning light. At least, I thought they were cypress trees because they had those odd knobby roots growing around them. They jogged a memory from a family vacation to Florida in third grade.
     
    Preparing for the first day at my new job, I deliberately chose the same outfit I had worn the day I learned about Ed's gift to me. The symbolism gave me much-needed optimism—a professional suit of armor as I headed into battle. The newspaper business is my life, but this morning I felt like a rank amateur.
     
    Nervously, I gathered my notebook and file folders into my briefcase and accidentally picked up the Gideon Bible from the bedside table. I flipped it open and my eyes went directly to the word “wisdom.” I read the verse. “If anybody lacks wisdom, ask God, and it will be provided. Believe and do not doubt.”
     
    I was full of doubts.
     
    Driving into the newspaper, I took the most direct route. Today