Jenny Whittaker, seated at her kitchen table, removed the CD from the case marked Keep in a

safe place and slipped it into her old laptop. She examined its contents and found that it held
two files, a written document and a video. The document was entitled Projects. Jenny clicked
on it. What opened was not a file of legible text, but a long series of seemingly meaningless
characters all jumbled together.
What are you looking at? Writing a computer program?
Jenny turned to acknowledge her husband Ted, who had just entered the kitchen. He
smiled back, his tanned skin wrinkling around his eyes.
Not exactly, replied Jenny. It looks like an encrypted file.
From where? asked Ted, reaching to examine the postal packaging which the CD had
arrived in. Thats an interesting return address.
It appears to be from the Meltsners in Africa, said Jenny. Eugene and Katrina live in
the Congo as missionaries.
The Meltsners, I remember now. What are they doing sending you an encrypted file?
I dont know. Jenny sighed in frustration. I cant seem to break the code. And I dont
want to miss my flight. Ill have to work on it later.
Ted reached to open the cupboard. You want some tea? Is green tea alright?
That sounds wonderful, said Jenny, closing the scrambled file. She then turned to the
video and clicked on it.
The video began with low drumbeats in the distance and a few shots of tall, leafy trees
swaying in the wind on the edge of what looked like a jungle. Then a man with thinning hair,
perfectly round glasses and a black vest walked into the frame.
Greetings from the Ashanti village in the Democratic Republic of the Congo, said
Eugene. I am Eugene Meltsner
There was an abrupt cut and Katrina appeared in the next shot standing next to Eugene.
and this is my lovely wife, Katrina. In partnership with the Universal Press Foundation,
publishers of the Universal Encyclopedia, an excellent collection of reliable information across a
wide variety of topics I should add, we are here to fulfill our vocation as missionaries to the
Ashanti people.
The camera focused in on Katrina now. Weve been working in the region full-time for
nearly two years, building relationships with the people, learning their customs, refining our
language skills, and teaching about Jesus, she said as a montage of video clips of Eugene and

Katrina interacting with the Ashantis began playing. Weve also had to opportunity to bless the
Ashanti village through the implementation of a water filtration system and the construction of
more durable homes to live in.
A native man in his late twenties appeared in the next shot. Hello, he said with a warm
smile. My name is Kwame. I grew up in this village and now I work as a pilot, transporting
essential supplies to this region and other remote areas as well. It has been an honor to live and
work alongside the Meltsners nearly all of my life. I grew up with Everett Meltsner and was
mentored by his late father, Morati, which means wise one in our language. And now Moratis
elder son Eugene and his wife Katrina have come to live with us. They have joined our family
and shown Gods love to us. We will be forever grateful for their willingness to serve. I do not
dare to imagine how things would have been different if they had not been called here.
The video then switched back to a shot of both Eugene and Katrina.
Weve appreciated your prayers, your letters, and your financial support, said Eugene.
It hasnt always been easy, but with the help of God weve seen extraordinary things
happen as His message spreads among the people, said Katrina.
As 1 Thessalonians 2:4 says, But as we were allowed of God to be put in trust with the
gospel, even so we speak; not as pleasing men, but God, which trieth our hearts.
The camera pulled back to a shot of a cluster of huts occupied by waving figures standing
around them, what looked like the entire village, and then it faded to black.
Jenny stared at the blank screen.
The waters boiled. Ill pour the tea, said Ted.
Jennys unbroken gaze soured into a grimace. That was a bitodd.
What was odd about it? asked Ted. Looked like a promotional video.
I know, she said. Why would Eugene and Katrina send me this video and tell me to
keep it safe?
Ted handed her a mug of hot tea. You know them better than I do.
And another thing, Jenny continued. Didnt they say in the video they had been
working full-time in Africa for two years?
Two years? Has it been that long already?
Jenny shook her head. Its been longer than that, Ted. More like five years. This video is
three years old.

That is odd, agreed Ted, double-checking the CD packaging. Doesnt look like the
package was delayed. It was sent recently.
Jenny took a small sip of her tea, careful not to burn herself. There was something else.
That video seemed familiar somehow.
Youve seen it before?
Im not quite sure. Let me check something. Jenny opened Eugene and Katrinas
website and soon found herself on the videos page. Thats it. Right there. Its the same video.
Jenny clicked on it and they watched it through to the end. It was identical to the
promotional video on the CD.
Why would Eugene and Katrina send you an old commercial advertising their mission
when its already available to anybody online? asked Ted. And whats with the encrypted file?
Jenny sighed and then took another sip of tea. Its too much to think about right now. I
have to get ready for my flight to Chicago.
Youre meeting with the Missions Board right? At Universal Press? Thats a bit of a
coincidence, said Ted with a grin.
What do you mean by coincidence?
Only joking.
Jenny closed her laptop. Its quite serious, actually. Im meeting with the board to
discuss some possible changes.
What kind of changes?
They werent specific. Im worried theyre considering slashing the budget for missional
outreach. I hope it doesnt come to that.
Youll talk them out of it. Youre good at that, said Ted, wrapping an arm around her.
Remember how they were thinking of scaling back a couple years ago but you convinced them
to expand their inner city programs for kids in Connellsville? Theyll change their tune. They
always do.
Jenny looked at her watch. Time to head to the airport.

Small chunks of ice leisurely floated down the Chicago River, travelling under bridges on their
route westward. Lines of traffic crawled alongside the river, cautiously maneuvering through the

snow. High above and looking down, at least twenty-five stories up, sat a woman in her forties
with black hair and glasses. Her eyes were focused and her expression was stern.
Mrs. Rogers?
Jenny Whittaker-Dowd-Rogers turned back from the floor-to-ceiling window to face the
boardroom. As she did so the strong smell of coffee grounds met her nose. Dotted around the
room in high-back leather chairs were members of the Universal Press Foundations board of
directors. In front of some of them were yellow legal pads, while others had laptops open. At the
opposite end of the shining mahogany table sat Evan Hopkins, the chairman of the board. His
gray hair looked untidy this morning and Jenny could see that behind horn-rimmed spectacles his
eyes were bloodshot.
Mrs. Rogers? Evan repeated in a nasal voice. You do realize the situation at hand, I
trust.
Im not sure I do, replied Jenny. I was under the impression I would be meeting with
the Missions Board.
Evan sat back in his seat and scratched his chin. As Ive said before, that wont be
possible. The decision has already been made. The Missions Board has been dissolved.
And why was I not informed of this earlier? Im a consultant for the Missions Board
after all. Have the missions been stopped as well? Is Universal Press no longer a philanthropic
organization? asked Jenny. She could feel her hands beginning to shake.
Of course it is, he said dismissively. But you have to realize your grandfather founded
this company in a different time. We have to adapt with the changing economic and social
landscape. Philanthropy is just one of our areas of interest and certainly cannot be the focus if we
are to survive in the future. As for those missions previously handled by the board, I am sure they
will continue at some capacity with the support of other organizations, if they are truly needed
that is.
Jenny glared at him. If I had been told about the true extent of our financial problems
sooner I would have stepped in. But it seems you have taken extreme measures without weighing
all your options.
Evan actually smiled. Mrs. Rogers, you are not technically a member of this board. You
are the manager of a building in Odyssey.
Im also one of your top researchers, said Jenny.
Yes, the Campbell University division, I know. But even if you did hold a higher
position, it is UPFs policy not to rely solely on unsolicited donations for its programs.

Unsolicited? Are you determined to kill these missions without warning and leave its
dependents to fend for themselves? What about the programs in Connellsville? What about the
Meltsners in Africa?
The fight is already over. But you must understand one thing. This has been a long
process. We have seen the effectiveness of the Missions Board decline ever since its chairman,
the late Michael Barnes, retired over a decade ago.
How so? If I recall correctly, weve been reaching out to more people than ever before,
said Jenny.
Ah, but weve been doing it less efficiently than ever before, said Evan. Its time to
leave those missions to other groups. Im sure any number of Christian organizations would be
happy to take over. UPF is not a religious non-profit after all. Its best that we distance ourselves
from proselytizing.
UPF was founded by my grandfather. It was built on Christian principles. But youve
turned your back on everything he stood for! Jenny shot off before she could contain herself.
Evan Hopkins looked taken aback. Jenny glanced around the room of about twenty board
members and no one would meet her gaze. One red-haired woman in her fifties, however,
squinted at Jenny in a perpetual scowl.
Evan removed his glasses and let out a sigh. I dont want to get into an argument about
this. And Im not keen on resorting to personal attacks. I knew your grandfather as well and
considered him a friend. Im reminded of something Whit once said. Speaking about himself, he
said, The purpose of a board is not to give me what I want but to do whats right for the
company. Whit knew what was ultimately important. All Im trying to do is preserve the
company he created.
Jenny sat in silence, biting her lip.
Evan sipped from his coffee cup and then continued. Now, enough of that. We didnt
call this meeting to discuss the Missions Board. Thats all in the past now. We wanted to talk to
you about the future and our continued involvement with your shop in Odyssey.
Jennys anger morphed into a tinge of worry. You mean, Whits End? What about it?
Why dont I have someone else explain it? Mrs. Rogers, let me introduce you to Mr. Rex
Apollo, Evan said, gesturing to a man seated about halfway down the table. Hes a new
member of our team with some bright ideas. Rex, take it away.
Rex wore a bright red tie and looked about thirty. He winked at Evan and then burst into
a brilliant white smile as he stood up to address the board. Thanks for that introduction, Mr.
Hopkins. And its nice to meet you, Mrs. Rogers.

Jenny smiled politely.

Rex slipped his hands in his pockets as he scanned the room, nodding his head slightly as
if sizing up the audience. Id like to draw everyones attention to the window. Can you tell me
what you see?
Jenny turned and looked out again at the city of Chicago below. Everyone else did as well
without feeling the need to answer Rexs question. Rex didnt mind.
Look way out there, in the distance. That, my friends, is Lake Michigan. And if we
could look real closely, what would we immediately notice?
Again, silence.
Rexs smile never left his face. Wed see how Lake Michigan is receding. Its drying up.
Its not sustainable. Thats been the case for decades and only now are people starting to do
something about it. But thats not going to happen to UPF. Not here. Not ever. Its against our
core values. If were going to survive, we need to make some tough choices. Thank goodness we
have some diligent shareholders on hand making sure this company cuts its costs. I dont know if
we would have been able to undertake some of the necessary changes otherwise.
What kind of necessary changes? interrupted Jenny.
Allow me to explain. Rex appeared to shift into a higher gear, as he began pacing back
and forth along the length of the table, his hands still in his pockets. At the end of the day, Mrs.
Rogers, we have to pay our bills. We have to remain competitive in this changing marketplace.
The world has changed, make no mistake about that. Chicago has changed. And yes, even the
little town of Odyssey has changed. We cant remain stuck in past, can we?
What exactly are you saying? Jenny said flatly.
Im getting to that, Mrs. Rogers, he said, running a hand through his wavy brown hair
before resuming his talk. Any company that expects to make a profit needs to make a return on
its investments. Make no mistake, this shop, this Whits End is an investment. But not only has it
failed to deliver in that respect, Im afraid its become a liability.
Jenny couldnt believe it. Excuse me? A liability? Youre not thinking of shutting it
down, are you? You have no authority to do that!
Rex waved his hand lightly as if to quiet Jenny. You misunderstand me. We have no
intention of shutting down the shop, so you neednt worry about that. But we have to face the
facts. In its current state, the building is indeed a liability. Its become one of those Christian
missions which we were forced to cut lose. UPF is not a charity, Mrs. Rogers. We cant continue
in the old ways. Not only is Whits End a floundering business, but it has become a broken-down

old building filled with bizarre inventions which could have numerous untold dangers for
children.
Thats not true! exclaimed Jenny. Its been inspected many times. And as for regular
building maintenance, Ive noticed that UPF has been especially reluctant to pay for repairs over
the last few years. You have no interest in preserving it at all!
This isnt an attack, Mrs. Rogers, no need to get upset. We see a bright future ahead for
Whits End if it remains under UPFs umbrella. We want to restore the shop and make sure its
safe for kids to play in again. We want to support it in any way we can.
Oh, really? asked Jenny.
Of course. I wouldnt say so if we didnt. But such a total renovation to make Whits
End sustainable again is going to require some, shall we say, restructuring.
Jenny raised an eyebrow. Restructuring? Restructuring what exactly?
Rexs smile widened and he slid his briefcase onto the table and retrieved a sheet of paper
from inside. Restructuring a number of things. Inclusivity, for instance. We want the new shop
to be welcoming of all types of people from all types of backgrounds. We cant afford to limit
our customers by imposing unwanted religious beliefs on them, can we? Weve enjoyed our
partnership with you, Mrs. Rogers. I want you to know you havent gone unappreciated for your
work. Its been a great relationship over the past ten years and were prepared to offer you an
outstanding severance package, he said hoisting the piece of paper into the air as proof.
Jenny had turned pale. Severance? Youre firing me?
Dont think of it as that. Were rebranding! Were going to revamp that shop of yours
and turn it into something none of us could have dreamed of on our own.
What if I dont accept?
Rex still smiled. Let me explain. Its a win-win solution! Whits End becomes profitable
again for UPF, and you get more money than youll know what to do with, he said, delivering
his sheet of paper facedown onto the table in front of her.
Jenny didnt look at it. Maybe you didnt hear me. What if I dont accept this plan to
change Whits End and fire me?
Were asking you to consider it, Rex replied firmly.
Ill have to talk to my lawyer, said Jenny.

Rex nervously looked to Evan, who came to his rescue. Mrs. Rogers, it doesnt need to
come to that. Weve offered you a fair deal. More than a fair deal. We dont need an answer now.
Maybe give it some time to think over.
I dont need time. The answer is no, Jenny said. Whits End and the land it sits on,
McAlister Park, is in a trust fund which requires the trustees use it to glorify God, according to
Christian principles. If you turn your back on that, youll have to relinquish any claim to Whits
End and give it back to my family. And the park along with it.
Mrs. Rogers, be reasonable about this, said Evan.
Call me Mrs. Whittaker, please. And believe me, once Ive left youll be deprived of the
only reasonable person amongst you, fired back Jenny. And Im ready to leave just about
now.
The scowling red-haired woman snorted to hide a sudden urge to laugh.
Rex piped up again. This issue must be resolved. And our plan is the only way to save
Whits End.
Jenny flicked a handful of business cards across the table. One sailed into Evans hands
and another struck Rex in the nose. These are for my lawyer. If youre serious about going
down this path to shut down the Missions Board and rip the Christian backbone out of Whits
End, well need to reach a settlement over how to transfer Whits End and McAlister Parker back
over to my property.
The board members were struck speechless and their shocked expressions burned
themselves into Jennys memory as she marched out of the board room. The last face she saw
was Evan Hopkins, with his bloodshot eyes and trembling jaw.