It's Always Fine Here

Moving to a new area, moving in general, is considered one of the most stressful life experiences you can put yourself through. According to statistics. Don't you just love statistics?

Divorce and the death of a loved one also rank high in those statistics. So I guess I lucked out. With really bad luck.

Recently divorced. Lost my eldest child before they reached their thirtieth birthday and was moving to a completely new area.

Excellent.

But my shrink said a change is as good as a rest.

And I was very tired.

Idyllic. Yes, that was the word the residents would use to describe their little town. Humble, semi-rural. Trees lined the roads. It sat at the bottom of a large cluster of mountains that provided a stirring backdrop.

Not much happened there.

And that was fine with everyone.

That was what I learned in the first few hours I spent walking through the town, familiarising myself with its amenities.

A quiet, winding country lane joined the main thoroughfare that ran through the centre. Despite my sedan being modest and several years old, it still drew attention from residents going about their daily routines.

I figured they were just suspicious of an unfamiliar face.

The local bar was where I started to find my bearings.

I perched on one of the stools closest to where the barmaid was wiping down the counter.

Before I could ask for a pint of whatever the locals drank, a beer was placed in front of me. My thank you seemed to hit a grey mist around the barmaid.

It must be me. My journey tired me out.

I looked around the dimly lit room. It looked old but well maintained.

A couple were sitting drinking glasses of red wine, while two gentlemen stared down the dominoes they were playing.

I decided to introduce myself, but the couple turned from me as I approached their table. I guessed they weren't in the mood for talking, I thought as I made a beeline for the dominoes.

As I sat down beside the gentlemen, they looked at each other, the younger of the two conceded a loss and then they got up and walked away.

Heading onto the centre of town and past a few locals, it would be wrong for me to base my feelings on less than half a day in a new town. But no one spoke to me aside from the old woman who directed me to the street where my new house sat.

As I walked up that street and up the path, I went to wave at neighbours I noticed at either side of my property, but before I could call out to them they had disappeared into the shelter of their homes.

Still, I remained hopeful. It's adjustment for them as much as it is for me.

The house was a lot simpler than I was used to. There were two bedrooms. I thought I might turn one into a study and return to that great novel I wanted to write. Fully furnished, though not really to my taste colour-wise, it was comfortable and homely.

Quiet without my wife or even the chance of my daughter stopping by to stay the night or make me her amazing chicken casserole.

I made a ready meal that I had picked up earlier from a store in town. It was strange. The clerk asked for the money before I had even decided what I wanted. I had to find the right items to match what they charged me.

I didn't want to cause a scene and thought it may just be a quirk of that town or even just that resident.

I have to admit that I slept well and felt a renewed sense of hope that I would settle in a bit and maybe even make friends.

I hadn't made friends in a long time. Many of our friends stop spending time with us because my Fiona, my wife, and I would have blazing arguments. Often about my working hours.

When I first arrived at the new house I saw a large bald man who looked just like me. If I was going to establish myself there nice and quickly, I figured I should just grab the bull by the horns.

The sun seemed permanently set to a balanced 25 degrees with a light breeze. I wouldn't say it was perfect but I was not used to such pleasant weather every day.

I approached the bald chap's house with a bottle of whisky I was saving for a special occasion and attempted my best smile.

He answered the door alongside his wife, both with mouths curling into some kind of protracted smiles.

"Thank you very much. Welcome to the neighbourhood!" they said in unison as they took the whisky from my hands and closed the door before I could say anything.

It didn't feel rude.

Just... odd.

The next day I walked into town again. Just a leisurely stroll through my new home.

I waved and spoke to a couple of residents as I walked past the rows of shops. They seemed to have everything but no one seemed especially busy or in a hurry.

The people I did speak to...

Well, it was strange.

"I'm fine and yourself?" a stout gentleman said before I had even introduced myself or asked him anything.

"The weather is always fine in our town," a polite but abrupt woman responded with little to no enthusiasm showing on her death-stare face.

I hadn't even asked about the weather.

I mean...

That was what I was going to ask her about.

Just. Odd.

I had worked as a file clerk in a previous firm and saw that a local insurance firm needed an administrative assistant.

As I entered the door to the shop front, it was a small operation on the inside with three people out front and I could see down a corridor that there were two other offices, both occupied.

On approaching the desk, the beautiful but expressionless woman with brown hair told me, "Perfect, you start tomorrow. Induction training begins at 9am sharp!"

I had barely enunciated the "h" of hello and I had gotten the job.

While I still didn't want to rock the boat, it was slightly unnerving.

Still, I can't complain.

I'd save lots of money on job searching and securing work on my second day in town is nothing to grumble about.

I was excited and nervous, making another ready meal in the microwave that I had picked up from the store.

My first day in a new job.

My daughter would have been so proud.

Excited about having some good hard work to accomplish and challenges, nervous about fitting in.

Turns out at 9am, when I entered the office and sat down at the available desk, I was already given a pile of files to sort through. I tried to ask about training but was cut off by "trai" and was told I had passed.

At lunchtime I had forgotten to pack something.

That wasn't a problem as someone had made lunch for all the staff.

Simple sandwiches.

But sandwiches always taste better when you don't have to make them yourself.

I was handed new cups of coffee almost instinctively.

It felt like it was good being the new guy.

One day became three and what felt like a relatively short time became two weeks and payday.

I sat having bought some salmon that had been handed to me when I walked into the store. My mind wandered to my daughter.

The first time in a few days...

No, weeks.

Payday meant I could do some work around the house. I am sure I had plans for the spare bedroom. I bought a nice uplighter lamp that was handed to me.

The desk could wait.

I was too busy for a desk at home.

And I was beginning to doubt I had a story to tell in my novel anyway.

As the next couple of days...

No...

Weeks passed, I had settled in.

Small talk had become the norm.

I hadn't even thought about my daughter.

The uplighter went well with the spare room.

Gave it a nice ambience.

I forgot I had been married and the pain Fiona and I had caused each other over the years.

Work didn't even register as work really anymore.

It was a way to pass the days away.

The weather was always fine here, so I hadn't used the car for a few weeks.

No wait.

Since I came here.

Another week passed and I was looking for something in my jacket pockets and came across a note.

It simply said:

"Buy desk

Write novel"

I still don't have a desk.

So not today.

Maybe next month.

Just the other week there I found myself walking past my car.

It was looking worn out.

Tired.

A fine layer of weathered corrosion had formed.

How long had I been in the town now?

Was it a year yet?

Surely not?

I shrugged at that thought and carried on into town.

My divorce and daughter's death were just distant memories.

Shadows and fragments in my mind.

I woke this morning, welcomed the day with breakfast.

The sun shined through the window.

Toast and tea.

Then headed for work.

As I walked past the other residents in our perfectly fine town, a new car rolled down the main thoroughfare.

I watched as a gentleman opened the door and stepped out.

He looked at me.

He waved at me.

His eyes seemed to suggest he wanted something from me.

I just quietly nodded.

And for the briefest moment it felt as if there was something I wanted to tell him.

Something important.

About the town.

About leaving.

But.

The thought slipped away.

It couldn't have been that important really.

I didn't even shrug.

"It's always fine here in this town!"

I replied to the gentleman about the weather.

About the town.

And continued on to work.

He'll settle in soon enough.