Chapter 7:
Thomas arrived back at his condo feeling energized. What he had seen could have just been a cheap parlor trick, but he was now convinced that it was a possibility. With option number one clearly defined, it was time to take the advice of that wretched Caroline Tharpe and do some research on some additional options: new homes. Thomas walked into his father’s old study and looked at the large map of the United States pinned to the wall. He placed his finger on the west coast near the California-Oregon border and ran his finger slowly eastward, looking for a rural area that he could possibly move to. Fortunately, the route his finger was running was abounding with rural locations, but without a frame of reference, Thomas was overwhelmed with possibilities.
"Hey," he said suddenly as his finger reached Wyoming. "Highway 80… I know that road, it runs through New Jersey. I didn’t know it went that far out west though." Thomas thought for a while and decided that Wyoming would be a good place to start. It was nearly entirely rural, after all. He walked over to the desk, booted up the computer, and hopped on the internet. After a quick search, he found himself reading a local news website for a town in Wyoming.
Thomas scanned the headlines and found that it didn’t seem all that different from the news of the city. Most of the same old problems, but with a country twist. Man charged after soliciting sex from minors near lake, Five dead in small plane crash outside of Cheyenne, Cattle mutilators strike again near Laramie, Man shot dead in Casper, it just went on and on. Thomas sighed. Perhaps he wasn’t meant for the country. Or maybe it was just Wyoming. Thomas went back to the map and started to search for a new location, found one, and once again looked for local news from that area online. Sadly, it was much the same as the news Thomas had found from Wyoming.
Thomas sighed and reclined his head back against the chair, eyes closed, trying to figure out what the problem was. He had honestly expected there to be far less problems out in the country, but from the looks of it, he was very, very wrong. Everything that went wrong in the city went wrong in the country too. Thomas sat up again. Maybe there was some middle ground. What about the suburbs? He quickly began looking up information about different suburbs. Of course, once again, the same problems came to light. Even worse, he realized that a lot of the suburbs in the area would be in New Jersey, a place not even remotely livable.
And so it went. Over the next few days, Thomas spent countless hours researching. The time he didn’t spend online was spent at the library reading books. When it was all said and done, Thomas had read five books about alternatives to city living, had researched countless possible destinations, called several realtors across the country, and had stumbled across a rather entertaining website that advocated fleeing the big cities and using tinfoil caps to prevent the government from controlling your mind. As Thomas sat at a table at the library reading yet another book, he finally came to the realization that it was no use. No matter where you lived, the same problems abounded. He stood up and slowly, dejectedly, walked over to the shelf and replaced the book. As he went to leave he looked up and saw the sign that directed visitors to the meeting rooms. It seemed as if Thomas had come full circle.
"If the people of today are all the same no matter where you go, what about the people of tomorrow?" Thomas thought to himself. "Perhaps I shouldn’t be looking into where to go, but when... It is time," Thomas resolved, "to call Frank."
He left the library and made his way back home, trying to remember where he had put Frank’s business card. Once he arrived, he went straight back to his dad’s office and began digging through the papers on the desk. Not there. He searched through a stack of envelopes on the kitchen table, but it wasn’t there either. He thought for a minute, and then went to his bedroom closet and dug through the clothing hanging within.
"Ah ha!" he said out loud to himself as he felt a paper inside a pocket on a suit jacket. He pulled it out and found that it was not, in fact, the business card, but the missing claim ticket for Marty Corbin’s dry cleaning. Thomas flushed, angry with himself. But the rage quickly subsided as he turned and spotted a piece of paper on the nightstand next to his bed. He walked over and identified it as the missing business card. He grabbed it, handling it delicately, and made his way to the phone in the kitchen. He picked it up and dialed Frank's number, slowly and methodically pushing each button to ensure there was no mistake. Given the time, he anticipated another conversation with a machine, but someone surprised him by answering. He recognized Doug's voice.
"Hello?"
"Oh, hey Doug… Thomas here… Just wanted to let you know I'll be there tomorrow for the trial run of the experiment. Sorry to call so late..."
"It’s not that late," Doug interjected, "only nine ‘o’ clock. We’re usually here for at least another couple of hours."
"Oh. OK," Thomas said, still hearing etiquette nag him about proper telephone manners. "Anyhow, Frank said he wanted me to let him know when I decided if I wanted in or not, and I have an answer for him." He paused.
"Yeah?" inquired Doug.
"I'll do it." Thomas said triumphantly.
"Great! Well, we'll see you here tomorrow morning at 10 AM, alright?"
"Yup, sounds good! See you then."
Thomas hung up, set his alarm, and dived into bed, pleasant dreams taking the place of endless nightmares for the first time in several weeks.