The Ordinary Life of Anderson Lane

By Wiley Traylor

Anderson Lane hates commuting, maybe even his job.  One morning, while waiting at a traffic light, he slips into a reflective moment and misses the signal when it changes to green.  Angry motorists begin blowing their horns and one especially furious driver yells at him with a very angry voice, what are you waiting for?

 

It so rattles Anderson that he spends the remainder of his workday hearing the motorist's voice until the question becomes stuck in his mind and causes him to question his ordinary life of routine.

 

When his place of employment is unexpectedly bought out and he is granted early retirement (with a surprisingly generous severance package), he takes off on a cross-country road trip.  He finds himself in rural Iowa, where he encounters people in need of a helping hand. 

 

Given shelter from an approaching storm, Anderson first meets Virginia, a woman whose husband has disappeared.  Then two women who have plans for Anderson's skills, later, a schoolboy struggling with trigonometry, a somewhat grouchy cookie maker, and finally, an old preacher who has lost all that is dear to him.

 

Armed with his engineering savvy, his DIY prowess, and the help of a mysterious organization, Anderson sets about helping his new acquaintances. 

 

Along the way, he uncovers a disturbing truth:  several people are being plagued by unscrupulous business dealings with a mysterious individual who seems to be unstoppable.

 

Can Anderson and his new circle of friends put an end to this menace?  Can Anderson find meaning and purpose in his ordinary life?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Wiley Traylor
• Release date: Jun 6, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201441142

Wiley Traylor

Wiley Traylor is an amateur writer who writes for fun.  Born a long time ago in a small town in Louisiana, he now abides in Tennessee where he spends his retirement thinking about and writing stories of adventure with an element of mystery and developing characters whom he would like to meet one day.

Book preview

Chapter One:  Routine

There are days when I wouldn’t mind being ten again, to spend an hour under a warm sun with a magnifying glass and a caterpillar, wondering how it could keep track of so many legs, to be fascinated once again with things that I now understand so well, to be intrigued and captivated by the promises waiting in the future, to know the blessed sound of Mom calling out suppertime, to know the sheer pleasure of a pile of dry autumn leaves.

Why is it that growing older steals the allure of such things from the soul?  Where does it live when it leaves and is there any chance it could ever return?  Are the reflections on the joys of one’s childhood what drives the fascination of retirement, the weekend, or even a simple holiday?  Is that what makes up the excitement of Christmas and then ushers in the despair when it doesn’t materialize?

Life has become a perpetual state of losing.  Each moment that goes by without being experienced for all it has to offer only contributes more to the growing sense that it will all wind down and come to a grinding, worthless stop at the end.

Anderson Lane snapped out of his thoughts to the sound of car horns blowing and an agitated voice crying out from behind him with all the anger it could produce.  He suddenly became cognizant of the green light.

What are you waiting for? the motorist screamed, with his red-faced head protruding out the window of his big SUV, taking on the form of something nearly inhuman.

Anderson stepped on the gas and moved quickly to the right-hand lane.  He hated, even detested the left lane.  He always felt so out of place there, as if it were a world declared off-limits to him because of his cautious and sensible driving.  As the motorist roared past, he could see he had extended a solitary finger in his direction.

Why is everyone so angry and short-tempered these days? Anderson bemoaned.  Where had the sense of common courtesy and public manners gone?

The remainder of the drive into work left him feeling irrelevant and frustrated.

The time at the office that morning was spent much like nearly every other day.  An endless line of repetitive, boring tasks loomed over him from the time of his arrival with all the promise of remaining until his departure.  Any task completed was immediately replaced with one more pressing as if queued by some unseen maniacal force.

The frustrations of the morning commute kept banging around inside his head with the words of the irate driver continually echoing what are you waiting for, what are you waiting for, until the voice of the angry motorist had faded away and the words had become his own.

What am I waiting for? he asked himself as he reclined slowly in his chair, staring mindlessly at the ceiling, finally recognizing that his own thoughts had replaced the voice.  What is there that holds my feet so solidly planted, keeping only to familiar paths?  Why is walking away from all that is annoying and sometimes painful such a difficult thing to do?

He was glad it was a Friday.  It had been a long week and he had had enough.  Finally, there was something to anticipate.  The weekend often produced a change of pace and a mild sensation of some comfort and tranquility.  Some of the simpler, ordinary things in his life often took place on the weekends, and surprisingly produced the biggest pleasures for him.

He looked forward to an unrushed breakfast, a change in pace from the hurried bowl of high fiber cereal to the opportunity to enjoy something from the stove.  Despite the continual dribble of protests from various naysayers about ruining his arteries and elevating some hidden numbers, there was something about the smell of bacon that made life enjoyable.

It was okay to ignore them once in a while he thought to himself, and that thought brought comfort.

Saturday arrived on schedule, somewhat delayed to his consciousness by his refusal to open his eyes as was normally dictated by routine.  The extra hour didn’t really make him feel any more rested, but somehow there was some element of pleasure in refusing to allow force of habit to invade and dictate his Saturday.

As he stood over the stove, bacon gently sizzling at arm’s length, toaster slowly turning the last two slices of the loaf to a golden brown, and espresso at the ready, a sad sensation descended upon him like cold water when he realized he was undeniably a creature of habit.  As he contemplated it, the thought suddenly brought a sense of despair to him when he realized that the break from his weekday routine was a routine in itself, different only in the frequency of occurrence.  He was a prisoner of an ordinary life.

Somewhere from deep inside his thoughts, the phrase he had wrestled with so arduously the day before began to resurface.  What am I waiting for?

He sat down at the table and began to stir his coffee slowly, twisting the phrase around, playing with inflection, and shifting the accents.

What am I waiting for?

What am I waiting for?

What am I waiting for?

What am I waiting for?

None of it made any sense to him.  He came back to the moment when he popped the last bite of toast into his mouth.  That meant a trip down to the supermarket for his weekly supplies.  Most times, he found this enjoyable, sorting through the assortment of teas and coffees, looking for something intriguing and inviting.  However, the thought grew cold as he recalled, like so many trips before, that he would most likely return home with the same selections as always.

I am indeed a creature of habit and a captive of routine, he thought to himself as he left the breakfast table and headed for the TV set.  His favorite Saturday morning DIY show was about to come on.  He stopped long enough to pour the last of the espresso in his cup and place the carafe in the sink.

Chapter Two:  A Different Kind of Monday

Monday had made no plans with him to be any different from the myriad of past Mondays or for that matter, any of the other four days of his workweek.  It arrived as always, slipping in on the end of the weekend, pushing his mind back into the routine pattern, and sending him off once again to the office by way of the commute that he so despised.

Commuting should not be a competitive sport, he thought to himself while he watched the drivers ahead of him constantly changing lanes and cutting each other off as they jostled for the gain of a few feet of pavement.  He was often amused that when he would finally straggle up to a red light, so many of the cars he had seen race by only moments before were sitting there, waiting, and only just a few cars ahead of him.

He had long since given up trying to arrive at work with the early birds.  His body didn’t have much interest in the pre-dawn activities necessary to get him to the office in the earlier hours.  He had learned some time back that his brain routinely kicked in later in the afternoon after most of the others had departed for home.  Somewhere in those few hours of solitude, he seemed to be able to get some things accomplished.

When he finally arrived that morning, he sensed something was decidedly different from the usual occupied cubicles of individual effort, for around the office area stood several small clusters of two, three, or four people quietly but earnestly engaged in intense discussions.  As he approached his workspace, his adjacent cubemate stepped away from a small group and caught his attention.

Have you heard? the cubemate asked intensely.  There’s to be a special announcement this morning at 10 o’clock.  Our calendars have been cleared and we are all being told to meet in the main auditorium.  No exceptions.

An uneasy sensation fell over Anderson.  He had experienced this kind of thing once before, many years ago when the local branch of an oil well logging company where he was employed had decided to close its doors.  He had gone to work one bright Friday morning back then, happy and content, and returned home that afternoon newly unemployed.  There was no explanation and though he had heard such stories from time to time from friends who had friends who had a brother who knew this man who..., it still seemed unreal, just as it had unfolded that late spring day so many years ago.

That same sense of a lack of reality was beginning to intensify and close in on him as he made his way down the hallway with the rest of the office staff.  As they turned the corner that led to the main hallway, they were joined by a group from yet another hallway, somewhat like a river ever expanding from the contributions of its tributaries.  By the time they approached the main auditorium, the group had grown to be a faceless mass of human forms moving slowly together as if to slaughter.

The auditorium was well lighted, and a steady murmur was clearly evident.  The stage however, had been darkened and cleared with the exception of a single podium.  The overhead screen had been lowered and was displaying the projected image of the familiar company logo.  The auditorium was scarcely large enough to seat everyone, so as last-minute arrivals filed in, they were forced to take standing positions along each of the extensive walls that ran down the length of the room and across the rear.  Anderson had taken a seat on the end of a row near the back and dutifully relinquished it to an obviously pregnant woman who had stopped near him and was leaning against the wall.

A hush fell over the group as the CEO approached the podium.  Anderson had never been very impressed with him, for like so many others, their function never quite justified their salaries.  What would make one man worth only minimum wage and another worth millions?  Anderson was far enough back that he could not make out the expression in the CEO’s eyes, but not so far as to keep him from seeing the trembling of the cluster of papers he held in his hands.  The ends fluttered as he placed them on the podium and cleared his throat.

Thank you all for coming, the CEO announced quickly, then slowly continued.  Today marks a new chapter for our company.  Since the earliest days of our existence, and throughout every successive generation, our leadership has endeavored to make this company the very best in what it does and how it does it.

He driveled on for what seemed like an eternity, but from the small stack of papers from which he read, it couldn’t have been but a few brief minutes.  He spoke of his long desire to guide the company into the next decade as a leader in their field and of his hopes to make the company a major employer in local industry.  He added how it had always been his heart’s desire that all who worked there would forever believe that they had worked for the finest company in the industry.

A sudden moment of intense silence descended upon the assembled group.  During a deliberate pause in the CEO’s speech, the logo on the screen slowly faded and was replaced by a bigger, more brazen image.

It is with great satisfaction, he continued, struggling at an attempt at imparting to the attendees a sense of excitement, that I announce to you that Morgan Industries has purchased our company for 14.7 billion dollars!

Perhaps what troubled the CEO more than it surprised everyone else was the total, combined silence of the response of the packed auditorium.  There was no applause, no gasps, and no spoken word.  It was as if the whole group had somehow unanimously decided beforehand that they would greet whatever the news might be with total indifference.

It became very clear to Anderson that the assembled discussions earlier that morning must have been right on target as to what was coming.  In the previous months, some had remarked about the frenzy of activity that had more of an appearance of curb dressing than actual value as they observed new shrubbery and parking lot improvements around the plant.  Even outside the main gates a few weeks back, after one of those very rare 3-day weekends, new trees had suddenly appeared along the stretch of roadway that ran parallel to the plant site.

There had even been some rumors earlier that month of a takeover, and a few had bothered to do some research and had concluded what it would mean.  The general speculation among the more curious was that the buyout was more for patent rights and some intellectual properties that they were developing, and nothing else.

There was even some discussion among the other engineers that the biggest prize might be the Implanted Pancreatic Stimulator they had been developing.  Basically, a pacemaker-like device for the pancreas, it held great potential of eliminating the dependence upon injections of insulin for a large percentage of diabetics.

Everyone silently began to fear the worst.  Not only would some most assuredly lose their jobs, but they were also certain no one would remain to see the completion of the IPS project.

Regaining his composer, the CEO continued.  He labored on for a while about the significance of the day, its positive impact on the community, and the other customary mentions that usually accompany such corporate announcements, most of which likely meant more to those who made the decision than those impacted by it.  It was obvious he realized he had lost the curiosity of the group, for it seemed he closed sooner than Anderson had expected, informing everyone that full information packets would be handed out later that afternoon.

Everyone wandered slowly back to their cubicles.  The expressionless, faceless crowd that had earlier moved to the auditorium had been replaced with smaller groups of fearful faces, each distinguishable by its own version of concern and uncertainty.

A general low-level constant murmur resonated throughout the office the remainder of the morning.  It was difficult to capture everything that was being said, but the occasional statement of distress would rise to the top of the unintelligible murmur and reveal the true feelings of some.  Phrases like ...and I just bought a new car and ...I can’t afford to lose my job reminded Anderson that there was real potential that some of his colleagues were going to be hurt very badly by the unsettling news.  Eventually everyone headed off for lunch to continue their discussions.  Upon their return, each found a simple brown manila envelope in their respective mail slots.

Anderson opened the envelope slowly and found a letter detailing his options.  He was surprised and somewhat delighted to learn that he had not been targeted for immediate termination, but in fact, had been presented with two options.  The first was to remain with the newly acquired company in a new position in another city.  The other more curious option was to accept early retirement with a very respectable severance package.

He had never in his recent past considered moving to another city and quickly dismissed the idea.  To him, one city would be the same as any other.  He had always imagined he would find the same routines, the same endless line of impatient, rude commuters following too closely, and the same repetitive weeks rolling into months, into years, into eternity.

He had been given until the following Monday to give his response.  He didn’t think it would take a great deal of effort to make his decision.  He thought about it continually over the next four days and by the time the weekend had passed, he had reached a decision.  He knew what he would do.

Chapter Three:  A Monday for Decision

The decisive Monday arrived with a different feel to it.  It was kind of like the week before the Christmas holidays when all a young schoolboy could think about was the welcome break from school and what had been accumulating under the tree for the past few days.  It had always been the longest week of the year— slow to pass but a lot of fun to experience.  Knowing that something rare and unusual was about to occur, gave it a welcome feeling of expectation and a very keen sense of something out of the ordinary.

Anderson arrived at work early, convinced in his heart that he was making the right decision.  He had done well with the company and had also invested wisely over the years, which left him in a strong financial position.  He assumed there would probably be others that would not have been offered the early retirement option, so by his taking it, perhaps it would spare someone else the consequences of termination.  He eventually arrived at his cubicle and promptly called the personnel office and gave them his decision.  After a few follow-up questions, his future was cemented.  How could it be so easy to make such a drastic shift in one’s life direction?

Not long after he hung up the phone, he received an email invitation to a special meeting in the auditorium scheduled for later that afternoon.

Things were going too quickly, he thought to himself.  While he pondered it, he realized when $14.7 billion is moving about, someone has the right to want to make things happen very quickly.  Apparently, a good deal of planning had gone into the buyout long before anyone had ever caught wind of what was happening.

There wasn’t much to do until the afternoon meeting as so much of what everyone was involved in had been put on hold and all other meetings had been canceled.  The state of unaccustomed confusion that accompanies such times has a very powerful ability to steal the momentum of the workforce.

Most folks generally milled about; some even spent the whole day down at the cafeteria moving from time to time from table to table, striking up and ending conversations with old acquaintances, courteously asking if they had any sense of what was to happen to them.  The general consensus was that a hard blow had been dealt and recovery would be difficult for some.

He arrived about 15 minutes early for the afternoon meeting.  When he entered the auditorium, he noticed it appeared almost exactly as it had the day the announcement of the buyout had been made.  The overhead screen had been lowered again and the new company logo was being projected.  The podium was there with only a single difference.  Within arm’s length of the podium, placed upon a simple, stout table was a small raffle drum.  It was filled with what he estimated to be 200 to 250 small slips of paper, all the same color, carefully and identically folded.  He could only assume it had something to do with the early retirees, but he couldn’t put a thought together as to what would be raffled.  Apparently, it was a case of ‘no entry required,’ for he could not remember having been invited to enter anything recently.

Little by little, folks began to arrive until eventually there were about 250 people scattered about the auditorium.  There was a slight murmur of excitement, for apparently, the rumor mill had been working overtime, and a few folks knew the significance of the raffle drum.  Those that seemed the most vocal had seated themselves on or near the front row.  The CEO approached the podium and a hush fell.

Ladies and gentlemen, he began, I am happy to stand before you this afternoon and have this opportunity to thank you for the decisions you have made for the benefit of yourselves, your fellow workers, and for this company, and to share with you some tokens of appreciation for the work you have done here.

In appreciation for your years of service, the new management of our company has put together some additional parting packages for each of you.  In addition to the benefits of the early retirement option that you have all agreed to, I am pleased to announce this afternoon that each of you will be receiving an additional separation bonus.  We believe you will be pleased with what you find when you check your online accounts.  Additionally, to add a touch of excitement, we will be drawing three names from this drum and announcing the awarding of three very special gifts.

Anderson sensed a general stir of excitement in the room as most of the attendees seemed to become more focused on what was happening.

The first drawing will be for a gift of $10,000, the CEO proudly announced.  Unlike the meeting the week before, this time he heard a definitive gasp from the audience.  He turned the drum slowly for a few revolutions, reached in, and picked one of the slips of paper.  And the winner is...

Anderson didn’t know the person who won the $10,000, but he was happy for him.  It became immediately apparent that all of the winners would be from the group who had elected to take the early retirement option.

The CEO continued.  The next prize is a round trip adventure to Europe for 28 days of castle hopping with $5,000 in spending money.

Again, a gasp and again the drum was turned, and a name withdrawn.  This time, Anderson knew the person who won the trip and was amazed because it was exactly what he had mentioned from time to time as his big retirement dream.

The next prize is very special, the CEO said.  In fact, it is a three-gift package worth well over $300,000.  Because of the nature and size of this gift, we will be keeping the identity of the winner non-public, that is to say, we will not announce the name at this time.  However, we can tell you that whoever wins this drawing will indeed be a very happy person.  He turned the drum a few extra turns, reached in, and withdrew a slip of paper.

We have the winner, he said, holding the slip of paper above his head, and will notify this person privately.  He handed it to his assistant who immediately departed.

For a very brief