Boo Hiss by Rene Gutteridge

ringing.”
    “Yes, that’s right! We have service, up and running!” he grinned.
    Katelyn shook her head. “Hold up. It’s just ringing. I can’t hear your voice.”
    “Well of course you can! Just walk through that door and you’re on your way!”
    Katelyn frowned. Okay, maybe he was right. Moving toward the door might help. But when she did, nothing changed. “Let me dial again,” she said.
    “Not necessary. All you have to do is step fearlessly into the twenty-first century, my friend.”
    “What?”
    “No sir, cell phones don’t cause brain cancer. All right, see you soon.” The kid winked at Katelyn and then hit the Flash button. “Hello?” His voice boomed through the phone.
    “Hello?”
    “Sorry about that. I think we might have our first customer coming in!”
    Katelyn hung up the phone and walked back toward the kid. “I could hear you loud and clear.”
    “That’s awesome.”
    “Who was on the phone?”
    “That was Mr. Horton. He doesn’t even own a microwave.”
    “I can’t believe nobody noticed the tower going up on the highway.”
    “Oh, they noticed. There were all kinds of theories about what it was.”
    “No one knew it was a cell phone tower?”
    “That was a guess. Among other things … like an alien space station.”
    “Don’t people understand the freedom a cell phone can bring?”
    “I know. It would be cool to stand out on my front lawn and call Jeff at his house.”
    “Who is Jeff?”
    “My friend. He lives across the street.”
    “Right. And you could check in with your mom when you’re out late.”
    “Oh, my mom won’t let me get one. She says they cause brain cancer.”
    She hoped she hadn’t become too optimistic about how quickly this town was going to conform. “Well, just remember, greet everyone with a friendly smile and keep it simple. We don’t need people to know how to access the satellite code, just how to dial their buddy to meet for coffee.”
    “Right. And I’m going to have to come up with some good reasonswhy calling them at home wouldn’t work. But I’m on top of it. I have a goal of signing up five people today.”
    “Very good,” Katelyn said. “You sound ambitious. What did you say your last job was?”
    “I sold bulletins for a dollar at the church.” He shrugged at her shocked expression. “Hey, let me tell you, when you have to start selling something people expect for free, you’ve got to recognize the fact that you have an exceptional salesman’s ability.”
    “Right,” she said. “Well, we’ve gone over everything. My husband, Michael, will be in soon to check on you.”
    “Michael the Manager. Has a nice ring to it.”
    “Call me on my cell if you have any questions, okay?”
    “Gotcha.”
    Katelyn walked outside and stood on the sidewalk. The air was so fresh and clean here. Tall pines framed the picturesque town and its blue sky. She decided a large mocha was in order. She walked across the street to the other sidewalk and headed toward the coffeehouse.
    As she did, she passed a strange-looking fellow. He looked like the crocodile hunter, except for his pale skin, orange hair, and freckled face. He was curiously out of place here with his leather pants and jungle shirt. She stepped aside as he walked past. He gave her a wink and a half smile. There was a determined twinkle in his eye as he marched forward.
    “That’s strange,” she heard someone say. She glanced to her right, and two men, totally bald, sat in front of the barber shop with their newspapers held erect in their laps. One chewed a smokeless cigar.
    “That man?” the other said.
    “Yeah. He’s not from these parts.”
    “You got that right. First of all, look how he walks.”
    “No kidding. There’s bowlegged, but then there’s that.”
    “Suppose he’s from Texas? They got some big bulls down that way.”
    “Naw. That’s no Texan. His belt buckles too small.” The man with the cigar folded his newspaper. “No sirree. I can tell you