George came out from the restroom, having taken a shower, using a new towel to dry off. He and Martha watched from the window that overlooked the outer parking lot as Howard drove his golf cart away. Martha looked at George and frowned. “We didn’t exactly tell him the whole truth, did we?”

George sighed heavily. “We said everything that needed to be said. We all left out some elements of the whole story. Did you ever interview with the boss saying things about financial problems, directorship infighting, and challenging nude etiquette; he can’t know everything, not all at once. We certainly didn’t when we first came here. Besides he’ll learn the ins and outs, how things are, and how we operate soon enough. Look, we accept the national associations’ oversight, and plain old common sense, too. Everyone here knows that, works with it to suit themselves, and seems to be good with it. He’s a smart kid, with a good head on his shoulders. I believe our common sense approach will work well for him, too!”

“Still?” Martha sighed, and frowned again. Then she smiled and laughed. “And why did you both come in all wet?”

George shook his head from side to side. “We both took a quick shower. Unloading over two hundred of those bricks in the afternoon sun is hard work, tiring, and both of us worked up a real sweat.”

She looked at him. “And you just took another one?” They both laughed, watching as Howard drove toward Laura’s food stand. George pointed out the window at them.

“What do you really think?”

Martha’s face just lit up. “Oh, given what you just said about him being a smart kid, he’ll be just fine.” She glanced sideways at her husband. “I also think it’s time a certain husband showed his wife some marital bliss on their anniversary.”

With that she flipped a printed window sign around to show that the office was “Closed”, grabbed George’s hand, and led him behind the counter. She switched off the phone ringer, forcing all incoming calls to go straight to voice mail. She then led George through another door, to the office supply storage room, where she had an air-mattress all set up. They closed the door, and stretched out on the mattress.

Martha took George into her arms. “As the good book says, you have left you father and mother, and must cleave to your wife. So start cleaving!!”

George reciprocated Martha’s hugs and kissed her deeply and passionately. His mind wandered a bit, as he recalled the 1976 hit “Afternoon Delight” by the Starland Vocal Band, but the song quickly faded from his mind as he….

Pastor Linda noticed a shadow was cast on the page as she was reading, and realized that she wasn’t alone with Mr. Jacobsen anymore. There were several shadows on the other side of the privacy curtain that had been pulled around his gurney. She noticed a hand, a finger really, pointing at the electroencephalography machine that Mr. Jacobsen was wired to.

“Attendez!! Incroyable!” said a deep, rich baritone voice. The finger darted back and forth as the lights on the EEG machine began to subside, some from green into yellow, some from yellow down into red.

“Incroyable!” a second time, this time a little more quietly.

Pastor Linda closed the notebook, and stood up, wondering what was going on when another hand appeared, grabbed the curtain, and pulled it back. Standing there were three men; two of them Pastor Linda recognized right away. The oldest man, closest to the EEG reader, was unknown to her.

In a surprised voice, Pastor Linda said, “Doctor Anthony! Doctor Phipps!” She realized she still had the notebook in her hands and blushed.

Dr. Jacob Anthony smiled when he saw Pastor Linda. “Hello Pastor. We didn’t know anyone was in here, except for the patient, of course. We were wondering who was here, speaking. It’s clear now that you were reading.” Dr. Anthony was a specialist in head trauma, while Dr. Robert Phipps was a hospital administrator. They were escorting the third man.

Dr. Anthony continued, using his hand to refer to the man. “This is Doctor Rene Forcet´!” He pronounced it ‘for-say’. “He’s one of the leading head trauma specialists in France, and is on a hospital tour in this country.”

She shook Dr. Forcet’s hand, still holding the notebook close to her chest.

He looked at her intently, returned his attention to the patient, back to the EEG machine, and back to her.

“What were you reading, young priest? Priestess?” He hesitated for a moment, and corrected himself. “Forgive me! My English is awful. I grew up in a small French village, where there were only two churches, and both were Roman Catholic. There are no female priests in the Catholic Church!”

Pastor Linda smiled. It was a common enough error for many people.

“Think nothing of it, sir. I’m an ordained Lutheran minister, but I have good relationships with the Catholic priests here. Most folks around here call me ‘PL’, short for Pastor Linda.”

He looked down at the large 3-ringed binder in her hand.

“Were you reading from that?” he asked, pointing. “What is it?”

Holding the notebook a bit tighter, she felt very self-conscious about it all of a sudden. “The contents of this notebook appear to be his writing. I read somewhere that a voice had some effect on a person in a coma, so I…”

Dr. Forcet nodded. “It does; I know.” He looked at the other two doctors. “Did you notice how he reacted once she stopped? I bet the lights return to a higher level, shortly after she begins again.” He looked at her expectantly.

The other doctors looked at her, as well. Her lower jaw began to drop. How was she going to avoid the embarrassment of what she was just reading? Then she thought she had little to worry about. She had already established that this was his writing, not hers, and it was having a positive effect on him.

She returned to her chair, and opened the book, thinking about what she would do about where she left off. She decided to see if she could skip it. She leafed through the pages, finding the one she left off with. She quickly read, silently; skip reading through the scene between George and Martha making love. ‘Wow, Mister Jacobsen, you certainly do a good job describing a scene, and carrying the reader along this wild ride, but you leave very little to the imagination,’ she thought, catching a break upon seeing a gap in between the sections. Just to be sure, she read the last paragraph of the section. ‘Yeah, I’d say they’ve finished…good thing these characters are married. Whew!!’ She took a deep breath and began to read out loud.

“…they showered together in the restroom, and enjoyed what little warm water there was. They dried off, and returned the office to functionality. There were no phone calls; nobody had tried the door. Martha ensured the walkie-talkie was on. George went out the front door, intent on a post love-making walk around camp, and cooling down in the warm afternoon sun.”

Almost immediately, the lights on the EEG began to rise. The doctors watched, pointed, and made comments on what they believed was happening, hoping that the man would just wake up, as if arising from an afternoon nap. They weren’t even listening to her as PL read aloud…

As George and Martha were enjoying the afternoon in marital bliss, Howard and Paul continued their tour through the camp. When Howard got to the exact center of the parking lot he stopped. He tapped the small compass on the dashboard. It pointed more or less west.

“Ahead of us, there,” he pointed, “is the back wall of Naked Laura’s Raw and Saucy. Laura owns and runs the concession stand here at M&M. She peddles sushi, salads, subs and sandwiches, hot wings, burgers, dogs, pizza, you name it; and anything that can be served in a plastic bottle or aluminum can. She’s also contracted to feed the help breakfast and lunch.” He elbowed Paul in the chest. “That’s you and me, kid!!” He chuckled.

“Now stand up on your seat, while I point out a few things. Don’t worry!! I’ll drive around so you can finish drawing your map.”

Paul pulled himself up, and stepped onto his seat. He wobbled a bit, having nothing to hold onto, except Howard’s shoulder. He steadied himself quickly, but when he looked down at Howard, realized how close his middle was to Howard’s head. He swallowed hard, again, hoping this was okay. Somehow, he felt Howard would say something if it wasn’t. It was; he didn’t!

Howard looked up at him. “Steady?” He turned to the left and spread his arms before him, toward the south. “Right now we are at the apex of a huge almost equilateral triangle.” He pointed with his left hand. “That street over there is Sunrise Road.” He pointed straight south. “That one is High Noon Avenue,” he raised his right hand, pointing to the right, “and that is…”

Paul interrupted him. “Sunset Boulevard!”

Howard turned around in his seat, looking up at him. “Good guess.”

Paul pointed out the sign on the back wall of Laura’s. Tacked to the wall was an old street sign. Obviously, it had been liberated from a street corner in Los Angeles; years ago, from the looks of it. Howard nodded and chuckled.

“Now about halfway through the camp is Central Avenue, crossing from Sunrise to Sunset, and at the far end is Sun Path. The camp actually extends further, but that’s for future expansion. The asphalt section for High Noon Avenue ends at Sun Path, but the walking trail that leads into the woods beyond is unofficially called Lover’s Lane. Married couples have been known to take a nice stroll down there and, uh, how shall I say this…?” He paused, as if deep in thought. “‘Practiced the art of becoming parents’ would be a good euphemism. We have a few pregnant women by spring and early summer, and families conduct multiple birthday parties in the open area between Laura’s and the covered Quonset hut section at the end of the pavilion.” He pointed to a roofed-over area just to the right of Naked Laura’s. Looking around, Paul saw that the pavilion would be partly shaded in the morning by the magnolia tree his car was currently parked under.

Howard continued. “Beyond Laura’s is the pool and beyond that is the Pump House. Now sit down, and I will take you around. Show you where you’re going to live, too.”

Howard turned the key, and started the old golf cart. He took a hard left, and went down High Noon Street. The bright sun of the parking lot gave way to shade in the tree covered camping area. “The areas north of Central Avenue are for tenting only. The lots are small closer to the parking lot, but get bigger the farther south we go. There are ten spaces on either side; odd numbers to the east; even numbers to the west, starting with double zero.”

Except for a picnic table and grill, some lots were empty, but closer to Central Avenue, large tents were in evidence. Howard continued with his tour speech.

“The six- to twelve-person tents you see here belong either to M&M, for a rental fee, or are owned by members who leave them here for other guests, and we service them. That means tending the grass and bushes, checking the guy lines, removing downed branches, you know.” He slowed down as he approached the intersection of High Noon and Central.

“The large tents on the four corners are used by either members of the board or VIP’s from one of the national associations, or some special guest. They are either reserved weeks in advance, or are the last to be filled, okay? Martha takes care of reservations, so you don’t need to worry about that.”

He pointed to a large 10-man tent in lot 17. “That one is yours, if you want the tent over the bungalow. Do you want to look at it now, or wait?”

Paul thought about it for a minute. It was only mid-afternoon, so there was plenty of sunlight left in the day. “I’ll wait!! I can see it later.”

Howard turned left onto Central, toward Sunrise. “We don’t have any lots on the east side of Sunrise. The property extends another ten to fifteen feet to the edge of the farmer’s field on the other side of those arborvitae trees, but he grows vegetables, and allows us access across it to a sandy beach at the river.” He pointed up to the north end of Sunrise where Paul could see a vehicle-wide trail with access from the inner parking lot, and followed the northern edge to the river. Howard turned right onto Sunrise, heading south to Sun Path.

“As you can see, the tree line gets closer until it actually meets with Sunrise at Sun Path.” Pointing to the right, he continued. “All of the lots here on the southern end are for the members and guests with RV’s, or towed campers with pick-ups and SUVs. There is enough space for them to keep their vehicles here, instead of taking up a parking space in the inner lot, and having to hike back in.” He turned right onto Sun Path. “There aren’t any lots on the south side of Sun Path. Not yet, anyway. The Board of Directors keeps talking about expansion, but that’s been years now.”

When Howard got to the T-intersection of Sun Path and High Noon, he looked at the small digital clock that he glued to the golf cart dashboard. He turned left, heading onto Lover’s Lane. Seeing the look on Paul’s face, he added, “I want to introduce you to someone; someone very special!”

As they drove down a semi-developed, vehicle-wide walking trail, Paul noted a few cultivated areas alongside. Several had small greenhouse-like plastic coverings over them; others were open to the sky. Howard stopped near a particularly muddy one. Paul could see movement on the other side of a short wire fence about ten feet back from the trail edge.

“Doris!! Doris!!” Howard called. Paul saw a spry elderly woman get up from the ground and step over the fence. She had leaves and twigs in her reddish-graying hair; dried and drying mud not only on her knees and shins, but frankly, all over; she looked a mess. Howard, however, had a big smile on his face. They both got out of the golf cart, and walked over to meet her.

Doris had some seedlings in her left hand, dripping wet, rich, top soil through her fingers, but her attention was firmly on the two men approaching her. She stopped when she was within arm’s reach of them.

“Doris, this is Paul. He was just hired by George and Martha and me to lay the poolside patio, and help me with”, he fingered air quotes “the chores.”

Doris’ face broke into the widest smile, and as she held her left hand clear, moved in to give Paul a hug, a full-body, arm around the neck, breast to chest, cheek to cheek, full-on hug. Despite the mud, Paul accepted her hug, and returned it, putting both arms around her back, and touching her cheek with his. He managed to keep his composure, despite feeling embarrassed in hugging a much older, completely naked, woman.

“Well, welcome, young man!” She stepped back, stretched both of her arms out, showing off all of her naked and ‘natural’ glory, and said with great sincerity, “Welcome to Magnolia and Moss. This is as good as it gets!”

Howard burst with laughter, as did Doris. Even Paul, noticing his own now muddy-in-spots body, laughed out loud, and felt less embarrassed.

Doris returned her face to a serious expression. “Are you going to brick in that entire pathway?”

‘That was fast’, Howard thought. He was afraid Doris would go there, and was annoyed. “Of course he is. We discussed this. The board wants a pathway, not a worn, grassless foot path that’ll erode and become a quagmire with every rain storm. Besides that, he hasn’t even seen the project area yet. It’s the last stop.” Howard didn’t want Paul and Doris to be at odds with each other from the get-go.

But Paul understood Doris. “I take it you want something more natural looking; something that will work with the natural landscape of the area?”

Doris nodded in the affirmative.

Paul nodded, too. “Let me see the area first. I know a few ways I believe would accommodate the board, with something you would like, too.”

Doris seemed to acquiesce, to let Paul do the job he was hired to do, but she made it clear that she would feel better with a natural look. Bricks just weren’t natural. But they were better, marginally, than concrete and asphalt.

Howard saw his opening. “Paul, what was your major in college? I don’t remember from your forms.” It was a lie, of course, but just a little one.

“My Bachelor of Science is in Natural Science, and now I’m a Master’s candidate in Phytochemistry, though my emphasis is in natural botanicals as phytotherapy, as opposed to straight chemistry. Why?”

Doris’ face lit up, but Howard already had his answer prepared. “Doris is an amateur herbalist of sorts…”

“Self-taught’, she interjected.

“…and she has a few plots…”

“A few?” she questioned, her face a funny frown.

“…quite a few plots here at camp, and one or two in the farmer’s field”, Howard finished, pointing his thumb over his shoulder, in roughly the right direction. “Now, let me show our young man here his major summer project. No dinner tonight, and I won’t stay out too long. Okay?”

Doris shook her head. “I’ll keep a light on for you!”

Howard leaned in and gave Doris much more than a good bye kiss. She returned his kiss with equal enthusiasm, so much so that Howard began to show just a bit of excitement, and Paul was just a little uncomfortable.

Howard broke contact, and looked at Paul. “Come on, let’s go, and finish your tour. Take you past the permanent residences, and up to the pool.”

They got into the golf cart, and Howard sat down carefully, cognizant of how close his semi-erection was to the steering wheel. If he was embarrassed, he wasn’t showing it, Paul thought, nor did he cover himself with his towel. Howard made a quick u-turn back toward Sun Path, waved to Doris as she rubbed mud off her breasts with her forearm, and she returned to her gardening. Paul picked up his clipboard and continued drawing his map.

Howard drove slowly back up Lover’s Lane and turned left on Sun Path. He wasn’t in a hurry, and he wanted to talk. Having brought up the forms Paul filled out, he wanted to get a few answers to several things he saw.

“Paul, you’re going to State U., and your scholarship was for crew?”

Paul nodded yes.

“Were you any good at it?”

Paul responded, “Well, I was part of a team. We went to State and Regionals, and made it to Nationals, once. The problem for me was distance. Rowing as a sport in college, and the Olympics, is for a distance of two thousand meters. I’m much better at anything above four thousand meters. That’s how the coach began using my middle name, calling me ‘Long’ Lance.”

Howard laughed. “It had nothing to do with your…” he said, pointing.

Paul blushed. “Uh …no!”

Getting serious, Howard asked, “So where did ‘Long Lance’ come from?”

Paul explained. “Well, during World War Two, the Japanese Navy had this torpedo that they fired from their destroyers and cruisers, the Type Ninety-Three. It used compressed oxygen instead of compressed air as an oxidizer; giving it an increased range over anything any other navy had. And it had less exhaust, so it didn’t leave much of a bubble trail. Its maximum range was almost twenty-five miles at over forty miles per hour. After the war, naval historians started calling it the ‘Long Lance’ torpedo. I guess it was sexier then calling it the Type Ninety-Three all the time.”

“Now, amateur and college rowing sports are regulated to two thousand meter sprints, so races are over in six to seven minutes. But I’m far better at two, three, even six, times that distance. I can row six thousand meters just under twenty-four minutes. That’s why the coach started calling me ‘Long Lance’. But, at least I was a consistent rower for the shorter distance sprinters in the scull. So, why did you ask me that, sir? Do you row?”

Howard smiled, but added up the numbers at the same time. “That’s five hundred meters every two minutes,” he said, impressed. “And you don’t need to ‘sir’ me. Howard will be fine. And, yes, I row. A lifetime ago, I rowed for the Coastal Rescue Service. I served almost every beach on the east coast.” The CRS worked the area between the farthest point beach patrol lifeguards could swim and where the nearest inshore Coast Guard cutters patrolled.

Paul was impressed. “Wow!! That’s old school. You must have been a hard body from early on.” Rowing a rescue whaleboat/lifeboat was not easy.

Howard nodded. “I did cut quite a figure, if that’s what you mean. That’s how I met my wife; she was a beach bunny. I don’t do too badly now, either.” Looking down, he noticed his semi-erection had returned to flaccidity.

Paul saw where Howard looked, and remembering that kiss with Doris, asked, “Are you and Doris…?” He rotated his hand back and forth at the wrist.

Howard smiled. “We aren’t married, no; but, yeah. Doris is a true free spirit. I wouldn’t want to try to change her by imposing a marriage contract on her. She’d drop me in a cold minute. My wife died before I retired at 60. Doris and I have had…a relationship for several years now. I’d been working here a few years. One night I saw this woman dancing and cavorting around a campfire in a cold, driving rain across the road from my camper. She’s a Wiccan High Priestess, you know?”

Paul shook his head no, but from what he saw of Doris, he wasn’t surprised.

“Oh, yeah!! That’s how she knows so much about herbs and such. Anyway, I look out from my camper, and there she is, dancing and prancing around like she was twenty-something. Love at first sight.” He answered the unasked question. “I’m seventy-five. She’s actually five years older than me.” Howard didn’t look it. Neither did Doris. Older then George and Martha, to be sure, but they didn’t look their ages either.

Howard again looked at Paul’s face, full of questions of his own.

“Being nude all the time makes me feel…youthful, capable of doing all sorts of things. I still row, but not like I did back when. Certainly I do more here than most men my age. So does Doris. So do George and Martha, too. I think you’ll find most of the older folks here are more agile and flexible than our textile friends on the outside. ‘Course, it could be genetics, too. Can’t give being nude all the credit, but I sure think it helps.”

“Textile?” Paul asked.

Howard nodded. “Textiles are people who wear clothes all the time. You know, like you did, until an hour or so ago.”

Paul laughed. “Well, I’ve slept nude at times, and skinny-dipped a few times at my best friend’s pool when we were kids. His parents didn’t seem to mind; we were being boys. At State, we rowed nude once; we lost a practice match to a junior college. Coach was so mad, said we didn’t deserve to wear State U. uniforms, so we did practice sprints the next day nude. The embarrassing part was when the girls’ teams showed up. Coach got reprimanded for it.”

Both of them laughed, than Howard said, “Now you’ll be nude twenty-four-seven. If you want, we can go rowing together. Nude, of course.” Paul started to nod, but before he could say anything, they came to the west end of Sun Path, and Howard made a hard, 120° right turn.

Howard continued, “Sorry about that. We’re on Sunset, now. All twenty bungalows are in a staggered pattern here to the left. Notice the lots are even numbered. But as I was saying before, we can go rowing, if you want. I have a two-man scull with a mechanical pulley setup for the pool, or we can use a sweep-oared whaleboat in the river. Nobody will see us if we’re nude, unless they’re sitting off the farmer’s beach.” He pointed. “My camper is here at the top end, across the path from Laura’s and the Pavilion.”

At the top of Sunset Blvd., Howard turned left onto the grass, passing between the marked path and the side of his camper. There were flower boxes and pots all over; Doris’ work. They had a hose hooked up to a vertical pipe with a shower head next to the camper. Howard drove slowly over the hose, which went up the slight rise toward the pool and the pump house.

Howard looked a bit sour. “I hoped that I could do something about that hose when I started the brick work. I’m just out of my element with it all. That’s partly why you were hired. It’s not part of the brick laying job, but if you can figure something out for me and Doris, I’d really appreciate it. I know she would, too.”

As they drove up the slight rise to the pool, Paul kept his eyes on the ground. There were small wires with orange flags flanking the well-worn toe path, marking where the brick pathway was going to be. He found himself planning how the bricks were going down; patterns that he could use.

Howard continued. “As you can see, the path will run from the corner where Sunset and the inner parking lot meet up here to the pool. It’ll meet up with the end of the pool patio, and continue around the west side, between the pool and the showers outside the Pump House, to the far end.”

They drove up to the pool’s edge, and got out. Paul stretched out, raising his hands into the air, enjoying the sun, feeling the slight breeze, realizing again that he was completely naked, and that he had been naked ever since the interview over an hour or so ago. He wiggled his toes, enjoying the way the grass felt on the soles of his feet. He felt the breeze again, cooling some as it came across the surface of the pool. For the first time in a long time, he felt, really felt, everything.

It didn’t go unnoticed by Howard. “Feels great, doesn’t it?” he asked.

Paul couldn’t help smiling, enjoying true freedom for the first time since he went skinny-dipping with his best friend as a young boy; the sun, the air, the ground. Everything filled his senses, and stimulated his body, and engaged his mind. He closed his eyes and saw…everything. His hands were extended, touching nothing, and yet he was touching…everything. He heard the pool pump and filter engage, the buzzing of a bee, a few birds cawing as they flew overhead.

He also heard approaching footfalls, and opened his eyes to see George walking toward him, along with a 40-something raven-haired woman, who was only wearing an apron. She pulled up the bottom edge, wiping her hands on the material, than lifted it higher to wipe sweat from her face. She exposed her nude body underneath almost completely, but she showed no sign of shame, embarrassment, or false modesty. She smiled, and continuing her conversation with George, Paul heard her say, “I agree!”

Howard, interested, asked, “Agree to what?”

George interrupted. “Paul, this is Laura. She’s the owner of Laura’s Raw and Saucy concession stand. She’ll be making your breakfast and lunch.”

They shook hands, hers feeling like they had something on them. “Hello, Paul, pleased to make your acquaintance”, she said in an English accent. “I was just saying that all this is starting to agree with you.”

Paul nodded his head. “Hi. Yes, it’s taking some time, but I believe I’m getting used to it all. It also doesn’t seem right, somehow, that I get two free meals a day out of this. ”

Howard laughed. “Well, you haven’t tasted her cooking, yet.” Then he coughed, like he was choking on something.

It will become apparent to Paul that Howard and Laura tease each other relentlessly, so much so that, if he hadn’t met Doris first, and saw how they kissed, Paul would have thought there is something going on between Howard and Laura, despite the obvious age difference.

Laura was laughing. “Don’t let that oaf cloud your judgment, Paul. I practice minimalist cooking. That’s the “Raw” part. I also enjoy nice spicy sauces. That’s the “Saucy” part.”

Howard coughed another fake cough, rolling his eyes this time.

She shook her head. “Hot and saucy. But don’t worry, Paul. Doris has given me a few sprigs of hemlock, arsenic, and such, but I won’t use them in your breakfast tomorrow.”

Howard coughed again, rolling his eyes, with his hands gripping his throat.

When he finished his over-acting, everyone laughed. It’s been a running joke between Howard and Laura for years.

George continued. “How is it so far? Do you have any thoughts?”

Paul scrunched his whole face. “Not really. We haven’t finished the whole tour yet, I think.”

Howard interjected. “I was just about to show him the rest of the brick patio project, and then where we store the consumables.”

Paul raised his hand at that. “Oh, I do have a question, while I have both of you here; I did notice that the individual lots only have a post-mounted grill, a picnic table, and maybe a tent. Where does the firewood, charcoal, water, or whatever I’m delivering, get placed when I deliver it?”

“Wherever the member wants it”, answered Howard.

“Nothing is pre-positioned?” Paul asked.

George and Howard shook their heads. “No!! The exception being firewood. I didn’t point out the firewood rings, as I thought they were obvious”, Howard answered. “We tried that once, but rain soaked the charcoal. Ice and water get delivered as needed. The campers let us know what they need, stopping us along the way, calling Martha, or placing orders beforehand.”

Paul shook his head. “There’s gotta be a better way! You could run yourself ragged trying to keep up on a crowded weekend.”

Howard laughed. “That’s part of the reason a younger person got hired.”

Paul snorted, and said, “So much for doing more because you’re naked, Howard. I’d rather work smarter, though, not harder!”

George was encouraging. “If you can think of anything that’ll be better, I’m all for it. Just be aware that we are under a budget. Okay?”

“Can I know how much that is? It’ll help!!” Paul responded.

George answered evasively. “That’s a good question for you to ask at the Board Meeting this Saturday. John won’t like it, but Stacy will answer that for you.” George and Howard looked at each other, knowingly.

Four residents were walking toward Laura’s stand, taking over one of several picnic tables positioned between her stand and the pool. Laura looked at each of the three men. “Well that’s that. Duty calls. Nice meeting you, Paul. Vegetable omelets for you both tomorrow”, Laura said. Both Paul and Howard nodded. Howard winked at Paul, and coughed once more. “With hemlock sprinkles for Howard,” she said with a twinkle in her eye.

Howard said, “Come on!! Let me show you ‘the project,’” again making finger quotes in the air.

Paul asked about the pile of bricks at the far end.

George said “That’s part of what Howard and I unloaded this afternoon around the time you arrived. Another two hundred-fifty bricks, in addition to two hundred-fifty we got before. Howard started laying the first hundred or so at the far end.”

Paul looked skeptical. “You know that isn’t enough bricks, right? Do you have a tape measure, Howard?” He got his clipboard, and made a few calculations. Howard brought his tool box from the golf cart, handing Paul his tape measure. Paul took a few measurements, added numbers to his formulas, picked up a small wire with a flag on it, and stuck it in the ground next to the pool.

“Five hundred bricks will get you here, plus or minus a line or two. We’ll need five thousand, in addition to what you already have. Plus, I’d like to start at the other end, at the bottom of the rise, where it meets with Sunset. Working uphill, even a slight rise as it is there, will help with setting the bricks, keeping them tighter as I lay them. And, it’ll look a lot better, with no gaps between them.”

Both men were visibly disappointed. George said, “Like I said, we’re working on a budget. We could only afford to get so many bricks at a time. We were also hoping to have at least the pool patio done before July Fourth. If you start down there, you won’t be finished the patio until Labor…”

“Five…six weeks, tops,” Paul said, interrupting.

Howard imagined a calendar in his head, and counted on his fingers. “But six weeks from today is July Fourth.”

Paul raised his eyebrows. “You say that like it’s a problem!”

Continued in Part 3

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