Wood-paneled walls, wood floors, and wood bunks. Enough for four to sleep. “Is there a bathroom?” I ask.
“You bet.” He opens a door next to an open closet, revealing a tiny bathroom, complete with a shower. “All the comforts.”
“Not bad.” And although I don’t mention it, I think this setup is preferable to the dorm where I live. At least it’s more private here.
After we leave the cabin area, Josiah takes the creek trail, which eventually wraps around, bringing us to another open area and several more camplike buildings, all with brown wooden siding and green metal roofs. Only these structures are much larger than the cabins. And some of them look newer.
He points to a tall lodgelike structure with big double doors in front. “That’s the meeting hall, where we have church.” Now he points out an older-looking low building. “That’s the dining hall.” Finally he points to what looks like a well-made log house. “And that’s my uncle’s home.”
“Nice.” I nod with appreciation. “It all has such a good feeling to it. Everything is so orderly and neat.” I look at the flower beds, with white and red petunias growing in straight, even rows. “Even the flowers are tidy.”
He smiles. “Uncle Jim likes it that way.”
“Well, I think it’s all very lovely. It’s like another country or going back in time. And not like the resort where I work either. They try to make everything look old-fashioned and sweet, but beneath the veneer it’s rather disappointing.” I smile at Josiah. “This feels real.”
“How about a real cup of coffee or something cool to drink?” He leads me over to the dining hall. “Breakfast is over by now, but there are still beverages to be had.”
I help myself to iced tea and Josiah fixes himself a coffee. “My mother would frown upon this too.” He holds up the cup.
“Coffee?”
“GEF opposes caffeine as much as alcohol and drugs.”
I nod. “That’s right. It’s one of the don’ts.”
“Part of a long monotonous list. Fortunately Uncle Jim did away with that part too. We’re allowed to drink coffee. But alcohol and drugs are still taboo.”
I’m curious to hear more, but before I can ask, some young people come up to say hello to Josiah. As he introduces me, I focus on trying to remember their names. Sometimes I use a game my dad taught me to help remember people’s names. You pick out something unique about a person and tie it to his or her name. However, these people strike me as strangely similar to each other. Not only do the women all have long hair, similar to mine, but they are also wearing longish dresses, which make my skirt look even shorter in contrast. However, everyone is warm and friendly and welcoming, and I don’t feel too out of place.
“I reckon we better get over to church.” Josiah points to the clock above the stone fireplace.
“Reverend Jim doesn’t tolerate tardiness,” a girl quietly tells me. “He says it’s rude and insulting to be late.”
“I completely agree.” I remember how many times Belinda has insulted me by being rudely late to work.
We walk together as a group toward the tall meeting house. The double doors are opened wide, and I can hear music wafting out. For some reason I assume it’s a recording, but as we go inside, I realize there’s a small choir of men and women up in front. The singing is actually live. And it’s very pleasant sounding too.
I smile at Josiah as he guides me up to one of the front pews. Although this building looks recently built, these wooden pews seem old. As we slide in, Josiah tells me in hushed tones that they were recycled from an old church. “I think they were from someplace back east. Like Pennsylvania.”
“Very cool,” I whisper.
Then as we sit there, quietly listening to the choir, I look at the big window up high in the arched point of the roof. It’s just a plain glass window, probably about five feet by five feet. But with the tall evergreen
“You bet.” He opens a door next to an open closet, revealing a tiny bathroom, complete with a shower. “All the comforts.”
“Not bad.” And although I don’t mention it, I think this setup is preferable to the dorm where I live. At least it’s more private here.
After we leave the cabin area, Josiah takes the creek trail, which eventually wraps around, bringing us to another open area and several more camplike buildings, all with brown wooden siding and green metal roofs. Only these structures are much larger than the cabins. And some of them look newer.
He points to a tall lodgelike structure with big double doors in front. “That’s the meeting hall, where we have church.” Now he points out an older-looking low building. “That’s the dining hall.” Finally he points to what looks like a well-made log house. “And that’s my uncle’s home.”
“Nice.” I nod with appreciation. “It all has such a good feeling to it. Everything is so orderly and neat.” I look at the flower beds, with white and red petunias growing in straight, even rows. “Even the flowers are tidy.”
He smiles. “Uncle Jim likes it that way.”
“Well, I think it’s all very lovely. It’s like another country or going back in time. And not like the resort where I work either. They try to make everything look old-fashioned and sweet, but beneath the veneer it’s rather disappointing.” I smile at Josiah. “This feels real.”
“How about a real cup of coffee or something cool to drink?” He leads me over to the dining hall. “Breakfast is over by now, but there are still beverages to be had.”
I help myself to iced tea and Josiah fixes himself a coffee. “My mother would frown upon this too.” He holds up the cup.
“Coffee?”
“GEF opposes caffeine as much as alcohol and drugs.”
I nod. “That’s right. It’s one of the don’ts.”
“Part of a long monotonous list. Fortunately Uncle Jim did away with that part too. We’re allowed to drink coffee. But alcohol and drugs are still taboo.”
I’m curious to hear more, but before I can ask, some young people come up to say hello to Josiah. As he introduces me, I focus on trying to remember their names. Sometimes I use a game my dad taught me to help remember people’s names. You pick out something unique about a person and tie it to his or her name. However, these people strike me as strangely similar to each other. Not only do the women all have long hair, similar to mine, but they are also wearing longish dresses, which make my skirt look even shorter in contrast. However, everyone is warm and friendly and welcoming, and I don’t feel too out of place.
“I reckon we better get over to church.” Josiah points to the clock above the stone fireplace.
“Reverend Jim doesn’t tolerate tardiness,” a girl quietly tells me. “He says it’s rude and insulting to be late.”
“I completely agree.” I remember how many times Belinda has insulted me by being rudely late to work.
We walk together as a group toward the tall meeting house. The double doors are opened wide, and I can hear music wafting out. For some reason I assume it’s a recording, but as we go inside, I realize there’s a small choir of men and women up in front. The singing is actually live. And it’s very pleasant sounding too.
I smile at Josiah as he guides me up to one of the front pews. Although this building looks recently built, these wooden pews seem old. As we slide in, Josiah tells me in hushed tones that they were recycled from an old church. “I think they were from someplace back east. Like Pennsylvania.”
“Very cool,” I whisper.
Then as we sit there, quietly listening to the choir, I look at the big window up high in the arched point of the roof. It’s just a plain glass window, probably about five feet by five feet. But with the tall evergreen
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