I AM ON FIELD MINISTRY WITH TWO OTHER PIONEERS. We call on an old lady’s house. She lets us in and we make her a cup of tea. I fit some rails around the house for her to hang her tea towels on. We say goodbye and pretend to leave through the back door, but we actually disappear into another room. She doesn’t know we are still there. We sit around laughing and joking, drinking tea and eating grapes.
The next day, I am at Kathy’s house. Kathy is a sister in the congregation who has an “unbelieving husband”. She lives in a very big house at the end of a street. It’s the circuit overseer’s visit. Lots of Jehovah’s Witnesses arrive at Kathy’s house for the meeting for field service. The room is long and narrow with a pond running the length of it. The circuit overseer gives a talk about two balls and what happens if you drop them.
The meeting ends. I leave and go home. I meditate on the illustration. What happens if I drop the balls? All I know is they will drop. After that, their path is unknown. What happens if I don’t drop the balls Nothing happens. Nothing changes. Everything remains the same. I think I understand.
I return to the group the next day. It is at Kathy’s house again. This time I answer up even though I’m disfellowshipped. I tell about my insight into the balls. The circuit overseer is impressed with my wisdom and commends me in front of the group.
It’s time to go on the door-to-door work. I leave Kathy’s house and walk to my assigned territory. I’m all alone. No one wants to work with me because I’m disfellowshipped. I’m bouncing a tennis ball with a wooden racquet. The ball bounces into a garden and rolls under a car. I think I’ve lost the ball, but then I see it laying on the grass next to two other tennis balls. I go into the garden and pick one of the balls up. I’m not sure if it’s my original ball, but it will do.
I turn around and walk back to Kathy’s house. I’m wearing a long, blue overcoat. I arrive at Kathy’s house and enter through the front door. I go into a side room and find a piano. I lock the lid with a key and then roll the piano to the front door. I am taking the piano home with me. I stand my guitar against the piano along with my tennis racquet and ball. I see Kathy in the living room making tea for when the group returns. I tell her I’m going home because no one wants to work with me.
“I guess it’s the booze,” she says.
“I’ve never touched a drop,” I reply.