To the left of the barn was a large hay barn, open to the elements on all sides but with a beautifully sloped metal roof. This structure also brought back memories of he and his brothers and cousins playing cops and robbers in and around their grandfather’s hay. Sometimes they would make little tunnels and caves in the hay, like they were hunkering down in a real gangsters’ hideout. Mike pulled into the large gravel turnabout and parked. Letting his engine run, he stepped out into the crisp, fresh air. He did a full-body stretch. He walked around the farm, taking in the rest of his surroundings, enjoying the nostalgia that this place was conjuring within him.
Besides the small lawn that surrounded the farmhouse, the property was left mostly natural, without much landscaping. The prairie grass was sagging and was still a dull brown color. There were patches of sagebrush, but there were no wildflowers as of yet. Mike tried to imagine how beautiful the place would be in full bloom. Seeing the place made him envious of the owner of this property and he began to wish that he’d done the same. Perhaps, he thought, when their business was up and running and bringing in money he would be able to build something similar.
While lost in his mental reverie, a large pickup truck pulled onto the drive and headed up towards where he was standing. Suddenly feeling awkward about his intrusion, and not knowing what else to do, Mike waved to the driver. The driver turned and said something to a passenger and then returned the wave. The driver parked the large diesel and he and the passenger got out and walked towards him.
“Can I help you?” asked the man, who was of average height and had an athletic looking build.
Mike walked towards him and extended his hand. “Sorry, I’m sure this is strange of me to just come up to your place, but I didn’t know you wouldn’t be home,” he said with an awkward smile. “Mike Wilson,” he said, extending his hand.
“Patton,” the man said, taking his hand and shaking it and releasing it. “Patton Larsen.” A pensive look brushed Patton’s face, but then the dawn of recognition came. “Mike Wilson. I recognize that name,” he said, smiling now.
Mike cleared his throat. “Yeah,” he said, “I’m part of the corporation. I’m doing the cattle ranching.”
“That’s right,” Patton said, his smile growing wider. “So what brings you up here?”
Mike gazed around the property again and took in a deep breath of the clean air and said, “I was just driving around the lake and I saw your sign. I and recognized the name so I thought I’d stop in and see who I’m going to be dealing with.”
Patton nodded.
“This place is gorgeous,” Mike said, taking off his wide-brimmed hat and wiping his forehead.
Just then Patton’s companion approached.
“Sorry Mike,” he said, pointing towards the approaching woman. “This is my friend Jennifer.”
Jennifer gave him wide smile and offered her hand. Mike shook it, fighting the urge to leer at her. He couldn’t help but envy Patton yet again because the woman was gorgeous. He smiled and tipped his hat to her in return.
“Hi Jennifer.”
“Hi,” she said, a little shyly.
“Well Mike, do you have dinner plans?” Patton asked, patting him on the shoulder.
Mike shook his head and said, “No, I don’t. I ate lunch downtown.”
“Well, why don’t you stay for a while,” Patton said with a warm smile. “We’re going to grill up some steaks and drink some beers and admire the view.”
“Sounds great,” Mike said, grateful at the invitation. Suddenly, a sheepish grin crossed his face. “First,” he said awkwardly, “is there any way I could take your John Deere for a spin?”
Patton and Jennifer looked at each and then they both looked at Mike. They simultaneously burst out laughing.
Patting his new friend on the back, Patton said, “Sure Mike. Sure you can.”
CHAPTER 5
The large town hall meeting had been planned from the beginning. The experiment’s organizers thought it would be wise to start with a forum where questions could be asked and answered. All of the main researchers were present, as were representatives from the company that had been hired to select the experiment’s participants.
A large amphitheater was built specifically for this meeting, which the community could utilize for other events. Since the meeting was set to start at dusk, many citizens elected to stay at home, put their children to bed, and watch from the comfort of their own homes via an intranet hookup. The chilly air was another deterrent from many people attending in person.
Patton and Jennifer decided to attend the meeting in person and had a good view of the stage. As they settled into their seats they were both amazed when they took in their surroundings. These people were their new neighbors. They were all embarking on something together. This gave them both a sense of belonging and togetherness. Patton could see both apprehension and excitement on the faces on the people around him and the way his stomach felt at that moment, he knew he must have looked the same way to others.
On the stage was a beautifully carved wooden lectern, with seven chairs spaced evenly behind it. Serving as a backdrop to the stage was a gigantic screen, which was currently blank. Outside of a few members of a technical crew, the stage was empty.
“Nervous?” Jennifer asked.
“A little, I guess,” he said, blowing into his hands to warm them. “Nervous. Excited. Ready to get started. What about you?”
She leaned into him and clenched at his arm, smiling up at him affectionately and said, “Me too.”
After a few more minutes of waiting and making small talk, a trumpet blast came over the sound system and the house lights went out. The screen changed to a white background with the words “Welcome to MICROCOSM” in black. The letters began pulsating, in sync with the music, which became a full-fledged symphony. As the music played, and as the audience stood and started to applaud, seven people walked out onto the stage. Some raised their arms and waved to greet the crowd. Others just walked over and stood in front of their seats. At first the whole production seemed hokey and contrived, but Patton couldn’t help but get caught up in the excitement. He found himself cheering along with everyone else.
A tall and distinguished looking man approached the lectern. His nervous smile could be seen on the giant screen behind him. The man waved to the still-applauding crowd and tried to get them to take their seats. After a few more moments, the noise quieted and the people in the crowd finally took their seats.
“Wow! Thank you!” he said, turning to his colleagues on the stand. Apparently they hadn’t been expecting such an enthusiastic greeting. “Thank you and welcome!” he said, exultantly raising his arms in the air and the crowd began to cheer again.
The crowd finally quieted and the man stepped to the microphone again.
“My name is Doctor Eric Chandler. I’m a professor of sociology at the University of Virginia.” A small contingent of Virginians in the audience cheered. He acknowledged their impromptu greeting with a wave. He continued, saying, “I know that you have had plenty of time to go through the information on our website.”
The man’s face disappeared and was replaced by the words “www.microcosm.org” in gigantic-sized letters that filled up half of the screen. The letters then dissipated and were replaced again by the familiar main page of the website, a site that most people in the crowd had visited many times.
“As you’ll see,” Dr. Chandler said, “this is our website.” While operating a mouse on the lectern, a cursor flashed over a link that said, “Welcome to the Experiment.” The cursor disappeared and the new page was loaded. A list of bullet points appeared. At the top of the list was the word “Agenda.” The first bullet point was “Introductions.”