Free Talk of the Town by Anne Marie Rodgers Page B

you please have a seat?”
    “Thank you.” Alice heaved a sigh. “What have you been doing today?”
    “I was at the library doing a bit of research on their public computer,” he told her. “How about you?”
    “We were in Potterston again looking for Wendell.”
    “No luck?” He looked sincerely concerned. “I’m sorry. He may turn up yet.”
    “I hope so,” Alice responded. “I’ve been praying about it. Mostly I’ve been praying for what I want, which is for Wendell to come home. And of course, I pray for him to be fed and warm and dry, but today I began to pray for acceptance, for God to soothe my sadness if Wendell is gone for good.”
    Louise nodded. “I’m at the same point. Except that I am having a hard time not blaming myself for his disappearance. I keep replaying the way I fussed at Wendell.”
    “Oh, Louise,” said Alice. “You must let that go. You are not to blame.”
    There was a long silence. Maxwell looked around uncomfortably as if he didn’t know how to respond to their comments. Alice suspected that Maxwell had never experienced God’s love in a personal way, had never opened his life to Christ. After all, who would have guided him in a Christian path? By his account, his father had been largely absent from his life, and if the schools where he’d lived had given their students any sort of religious training, she had yet to see a sign of it. And since the young man had never mentioned his mother, she suspected that Mrs. Vandermitton either had passed away or left her family. Alice resolved to be a good role model during the remainder of his visit and to share her faith with him whenever the opportunity arose.
    Louise cleared her throat. “Here comes Hope. What kind of pie would you like, Alice?”
    “I’d like blackberry,” she told the waitress.
    Louise ordered blueberry pie, while Maxwell declined.
    “I’ve already had two pieces,” he said.
    Hope smiled at him. “He’s rapidly becoming our best customer,” she told Louise and Alice.
    As Hope left their table to get their order ready, Alice asked, “Have you heard about the tracks the two boys found yesterday?”
    “Yes, indeed,” Maxwell responded. “And I understand you and Ronald Simpson are the only two adults to actually see them.”
    “Unfortunately.” Alice grimaced. “I wish it hadn’t rained.”
    “The tracks are all anyone in town is talking about today,” Maxwell said. “Apparently the woman from the paper went out to photograph them this morning, but the rain had obliterated all but some large, blurry depressions in the mud.”
    “I was afraid of that,” Alice said.
    “What did you see?”
    After Hope returned with their order, Alice recounted her experience. As she spoke, she was aware of a slight stir over near the counter. Finally, the buzz grew so insistent that the sisters and Maxwell halted their conversation and turned to see what the excitement was about.
    Bobby Dawson, a member of Grace Chapel’s youth group, stood in the midst of a small cluster of people. The teen was gesticulating wildly. Some people were responding with expressions of incredulity, while others nodded and smiled or shook their heads and frowned.
    When Hope passed their table again, Alice said, “Hope, what on earth is Bobby saying that has everyone so stirred up?”
    Hope laughed. “Apparently, he found an article at the library this afternoon that made him wonder if the tracks you found are from a Bigfoot.”
    Alice glanced quickly at Louise. Louise had raised one eyebrow, although she remained silent.
    Carefully, Alice said, “What would possess him to look that up?”
    “He says he didn’t,” Hope reported. “He was there to research a history paper and he found the article lying near the computer.”
    When Alice looked at Maxwell, he was just setting down his coffee cup. “From what Alice just described, they certainly weren’t from a little foot, no matter what kind of animal it was,” he said.
    Hope