A Place To Rest

David Eagleton stepped out of the car, bent over and looked at the driver. "Thanks for the ride," he said, reaching in and getting his pack from the back seat.

Sure," Bob replied. "I'm sorry I'm not going further west."

They shook hands. David closed the car door and stepped back. The car moved off, slowly picking up speed. Swinging his pack onto his back, David watched as the car drove down the off ramp and stopped at the corner, turned, and moved off again. A horn honked and David realized it was Bob saying good-bye again. He waved before the car disappeared behind a building.

Hitching his pack up on his back a little, he looked across the highway as two cars passed going the other way. The day was slowly coming to an end in West Texas, and a slight breeze blew a few strands of his black hair across his face. He'd had good luck so far catching rides on the Interstate. The sign they'd passed about a mile back had read, Midland, Texas city limits.

David Eagleton was a young man of twenty five, two inches short of being six feet, who'd been doing his thing for three years. He weighed about 160 pounds, but his weight varied. Sometimes as he traveled around he would find a place where he could work for his food. Then, there were times he would stay at a mission where he could get his meals free. Once he had weighed over 180 pounds but that was years ago. That was when he was going to Kansas State University. The easy life of going to school and chowing down all the time had ballooned him a little. But things had fallen apart for him during his senior year at school. So he chucked it all and hit the road. Within a month he was down to his 160 pounds. "Nothing like the road to take off the weight," he'd tell his traveling companions. Missing a few meals had helped.

David looked at the sun and smiled as he thought about his life. Yesterday at this same time he'd been in Austin, Texas. He recalled the strange feeling he had had when he left the mission house on East First Street and headed for Interstate 35. He had been in Austin almost six months and hadn't thought about leaving until early yesterday morning. Life surely was strange.

The night before he had stayed up talking with Charlie McCollum, a Gideon, until three in the morning. But before they parted, the two of them had gone into the small room downstairs that they called the chapel and prayed. It was at that time that a great burden had been lifted off of David's shoulders. In those wee hours of the morning David had rededicated his life to the Lord.

The next morning David found himself humming and talking to everyone around him. Even the flowers on the old wall paper took on special colors. Looking in the mirror as he shaved, he had to stop and look twice to see if it was really him. A smile had taken the place of the downward curl his lips had grown accustomed too. David had not hidden his anger and wanted the whole world to know just how badly he'd been treated. He didn't want them to forget it either. He, of course, couldn't forget it because he thought about it all the time.

But now his smile jolted him, especially that early in the morning. As he stood there looking in the mirror, the smile started to fade only to be revived by the good feeling he had inside. He puckered up his lips and started whistling as he shaved. After only a couple of strokes of his razor he laughed out loud. No one in their right mind would try to shave while whistling, he thought. Two men who were shaving next to him looked at him and joined in his laughter. By the time they left the room everyone was talking and having a good time.

When David got back to his room he was shaking his head in amazement at how a little laughter had changed the dreary little task of shaving into a great time. He got dressed in a daydream as his mind jumped from one thing to another. David hadn't felt this good since he was a young boy back in Kansas. Childhood memories flooded his mind and he smiled as he remembered the good things. There had been a lot of bad things happen in his life since then and he had to mentally fight to keep them out.

When David came out of his daydream, he found himself standing in the breakfast line with his pack slung loosely over his left shoulder. Looking at the man in front of him, and then at the one behind him, he saw that familiar somber look. The corners of their mouths were turned down like his used to be. Just then the men who had been shaving with him in the restroom came into the dining hall and went to the back of the line. They were talking and laughing and having a good time. Their laughter seemed to crackle in the air around them causing the other men's lips to turn down even further. He stood there and recalled how he used to feel about laughter. He remembered telling more than one person that if they felt that good they shouldn't be in a mission.

David poked the man in front of him and when he turned around he stepped aside so he could talk to them. "You two guys ought to go to the chapel after breakfast. It did me a world of good last night. I feel like a different person."

The two men looked at each other. The one he'd poked turned back around and the man behind him said, "What are you? Some kind of religious nut?"

David flinched a little and said no more as he crawled back into his old shell. The smile left his face and a frown crept across his forehead as the song inside him started to fade. Then he heard the laughter of the men at the back of the line, and the song within him returned louder than ever. The frown disappeared and he smiled again. He wasn't going to let these two guys ruin his day.