Easter Sunday, March 27, 2016

"Who has an Easter egg hunt this early?" Pam asked Jim, peering out the car window as they rode along the dark road. There was only a hint of brightness in the sky, and sunrise was still a half-hour away.

"Dwight. Schrute." Jim grinned as he answered, still concentrating on the road. It would be difficult to find the turns to Schrute Farms with so little light, but at least that situation would improve. "Don't ask me to explain the ways of a Schrute, Pam. They're inschrutable."

Pam laughed, but five-year-old Laura piped up from the back seat, "Daddy, is that a real word?"

"Nope," replied Jim. "Sorry, honey, I was just making a joke. The real word is ‘inscrutable.' It means ‘hard to understand,' and Dwight Schrute can be very hard to understand, so I changed it to ‘inschrutable.'"

"Oh." Laura was quiet for a moment. "Is that kind of like name-calling, though, Daddy? Because Mommy always says not to name-call."

Jim gave a quick look over to Pam, who mouthed ‘sorry,' before answering. "Well, Mommy's right that you shouldn't name-call, Laura, because she's trying to bring you up to be a nice, caring person. But I am already not a nice, caring person, so I can say things like that."

Pam nodded at Jim. "Nice." To Laura she said, "So what Daddy is saying is ‘Do as Mommy says, not as Daddy does.'"

"Exactly," agreed Jim. "I can try to be nicer, though, Laura. But it's going to be really difficult today, because...it's Dwight."

"But he's having an Easter egg hunt, so doesn't that mean he wants to be friends?" asked Laura.

"You'd think so," said Jim. "But there's really just no knowing, with Dwight."

Pam whipped her head around to watch a car passing on the other side. "I think that was Angela!"

"Well, Dwight did say she was going to a sunrise service. And hey, I guess this means I haven't missed the turn!"

"Yet," said Pam.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"You're late," said Dwight, as the Halperts got out of their car. "And your baby is crying." He stood in front of the farmhouse wearing heavy canvas pants, gloves, a sheepskin-lined coat and hat, and thick rubber boots. In the crook of his arm was a pile of clipboards, and he wore four compasses on chains around his neck.

Jim decided to say nothing about the outfit; it would conflict with his attempt to be nicer. "We're two minutes late, Dwight, and the baby's name is Joey."

Dwight peered at Joey. "Like Joseph Stalin?"

Jim and Pam shared a look, silently deciding who should answer. Pam did. "No, Dwight. Like Joe Beesly, my dad."

"Ah." Dwight nodded.

"We're watching him, though," said Jim. "If he starts some kind of regime of terror, we'll shut it right down."

"Good," said Dwight. "I'm glad to see you're willing to take a firm hand with the children. Our girls know who's boss. Angela and I don't tolerate bad behavior."

In the growing light, Jim could see the barn nearby. One by one, three people swung on a rope from the door on the second level down to the ground in front of the barn -- Dwight's cousin Mose, a girl who Jim assumed must be Heike, since she was about Laura's size, and a slightly bigger girl. Once all three were down, they engaged in some sort of frenzied hay fight. Jim wondered if that sort of thing was considered good behavior, or if Dwight was just oblivious to what went on when he wasn't looking.

Dwight suddenly concentrated on Laura. "You must be Laura, then. My Heike says very nice things about you." He gave a little bow. "You are welcome at Schrute Farms anytime." His expression changed, as if something had just occurred to him. "Depending on what Angela says," he added.

"I guess Angela rules the roost," Pam commented, shivering a bit. Sunrise and its potential warmth couldn't come soon enough.

"Nonsense," said Dwight. "I rule the roost. And that brings us to the problem. Oh, hello!"

Mose and the two girls had come up to the group, bits of hay poking out from various places. Laura and Heike exchanged an exuberant hug, and introductions were made all around; the older girl was named Greta, and Dwight pointed out little Liesel toddling nearby. All the girls had the white-blond hair of their mother; they were miniature Angelas in looks, if not in temperament. Mose looked much the same as when Jim and Pam had met him years before, but with a bit of white in his hair now, and a few more lines on his face. He had ducked his head shyly as he shook Jim's hand, and blushed as he shook Pam's. After that, he hovered by Jim, too close for comfort behind his right shoulder.

Dwight looked to the eastern horizon and said, "We may as well start with assignments. The sun will be rising soon, and it's bright enough now to see the maps."

Jim kept glancing at Mose and inching to his left. Mose inched with him. Giving up, Jim tried to ignore the fact that he was being shadowed. He only hoped it wouldn't continue through the entire visit here.

Dwight handed a clipboard to Mose and one to Jim. "Pam, since you and Jim are new to egg hunts at Schrute Farms, you should probably partner up."

"Good idea." Pam nodded as if she knew where Dwight was going with this. Jim was fairly certain that none of them knew where Dwight was going with this. Maybe Dwight knew.

"Okay. So, I've assigned you a quadrant and marked it on your map. Search very carefully for eggs and mark on the map where you find them before picking them up. Here are your compasses." He took two from his neck and again gave one to Mose and one to Jim. "It's very important to mark first, pick up after. Don't forget."

Dwight looked up suddenly to see Laura and Heike, now a few yards away, holding hands and bending down a bit as Laura reached for an egg. Dwight ran toward the girls, yelling, "No! We didn't map it yet!"

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Joey fussed a little in Pam's arms as Jim and Pam looked down at the brown egg nestled in the grass.

"He didn't color the eggs?" asked Pam. She looked over to the other egg hunt ‘quadrants' - Mose in one, Dwight in a second, and Greta, Heike, and Laura in the third. Everyone seemed to be busily searching for, mapping, and picking up eggs, unbothered by the fact that they were brown instead of brightly colored.

"Maybe he figured the brown eggs wouldn't color well?" Jim guessed. "Or maybe he couldn't find time to color them, since he doesn't want Angela to find out."

Pam glanced over to see Dwight heading toward them from his quadrant. "We can ask him, I guess. Meanwhile, mark this one on the map, and let's see if Joey will pick it up." She set Joey down next to the egg as Dwight reached them.

"What's wrong with him? Why isn't he walking around searching for himself?" asked Dwight. "You'll never get your quadrant cleared at this rate."

Jim looked at Dwight quizzically, shaking his head. "He's only ten months old, Dwight. He can't walk yet."

"Pfft," said Dwight, looking around. Behind him, he spotted his youngest daughter, wandering nearby. "Liesel, come here." Little Liesel started to toddle over to them with a big gummy smile.

Dwight turned back to Jim and Pam, saying, "Eight and a half months old. Perfect balance." Behind him, Liesel fell on her face and then struggled again to her feet; he didn't notice. "Schrute genes."

"That's great, Dwight." Pam, trying to hide her smile, looked down at Joey. "Pick up the egg, Joey!" she encouraged.

Joey grabbed for the egg with both hands. It exploded in a mess of eggshell and goo and he burst out crying. In the distance, Mose looked up at the noise and came running.

"Oh, my God, Dwight! That one's raw!" said Jim, crouching down to help Joey wipe his hands off in the grass. Pam took a packet of baby wipes from her bag and applied them to cleaning Joey's hands. Mose arrived at the scene and started patting Joey on the head, making soothing "psh, psh" noises.

"Well, of course it's raw," Dwight replied. "You don't think Chicken Jane lays cooked eggs, do you?"

"What are you talking about? Didn't you hide the eggs?" asked Pam.

"Hide them? Don't be ridiculous. We're trying to find the eggs," Dwight scoffed. "Chicken Jane has been laying her eggs wherever she wishes, instead of in the hen house, and she hasn't gone there at night to roost, either. Only in finding the eggs and tracking the patterns can we determine where the hen is hiding. We take mavericks very seriously at Schrute Farms."

Jim picked up Joey, finally all clean and no longer sniffling. "You said you were having an Easter egg hunt, Dwight. That's why we came."

"I said no such thing. I asked you, at Mose's insistence, to come for an egg hunt. I don't know why he thinks you're some sort of a pied piper who can help us find Chicken Jane, but..."

Mose interrupted, "I call her DHW, for..."

"Long story, no time, Mose," said Dwight, waving a clipboard at his cousin. "The important thing is that Chicken Jane is Angela's favorite hen, and we have to find her before Angela realizes she's missing. Mose and I have been looking since Thursday and we haven't found her. We're lucky Angela hasn't noticed her absence, but she's been busy with all the Easter services -- Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, Holy Saturday, and of course, sunrise, and 9 o'clock services today."

"No 11 o'clock today?" asked Pam innocently.

"No, I convinced her that two services today was enough," answered Dwight. "I told you that I rule the roost, didn't I?"

"I can see that now," Pam said solemnly.

"Yes, excellent job, Dwight," Jim agreed.

Dwight looked at the two of them with a little frown. "Hmph. Get back to work and finish your quadrant. You too, Mose. We'll meet on the porch when we're done and then look for patterns." He tapped his clipboard. "Angela's ETA is 10:47 A.M. We need to find this rogue hen before that. Look sharp."