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Show 334 an ambitious pup. Swallowing his defeat, he had accepted the church's call to serve as mission president for three years in the Great Lakes mission. He was now beginning his third year, and for all Lorin knew to the contrary would shortly resume his political life and wing through to the presidency this time. Lorin felt President Olsen's friendly hand at his back urging him, his knees like spaghetti, into the council room, where several men in dark suits sat in red leather chairs around the long conference table. His own branch president was one of them. He looked at Lorin and then let his eyes wander just past his shoulder. The carpet felt deep and soft under his feet, and for a moment Lorin wished he could have the sensation of feeling it without his shoes. "If you'll just sit up there at that end of the table, Elder Hood," the mission president said, pointing. "And Elder Sorenson, if you'll go sit with him-that's right, just pull that other chair out, you can put that stack of papers on the table-we can get started. Where's Elder Warnick?" "He had a phone call," one of the men said. "He said he'd be back in a minute." "Well, we can go ahead," said the mission president, looking at his watch. There was a moment of shuffling as the men stood and pulled their chairs out and knelt on the carpet around the table, their elbows on the chair seats. Lorin found himself forehead to forehead with the mission president's first counsellor, Elder Judson, who kept his eyes closed to avoid looking at him while President Olsen gave the opening prayer. They returned to their chairs. Lorin heard a lot of throat-clearing. "I'm afraid, brethren," President Olsen said, his expression somber, his forehead wrinkled, "that it's a pretty ugly case." He was shuffling through a |
