Pastor Linda took a break and looked up past the drawn curtain. From where the curtain hung from the ceiling down about two feet, the curtain was a netted material. She looked though the netting to see a wall-mounted clock. She had been reading for just over an hour.

“Well, should I continue reading, Mister Jacobsen, or stop for a while and pick it up later?” She wasn’t expecting an answer, and was surprised when she heard not one, but two.

“Read some more please!” “Yes, please continue!”

Pastor Linda realized that the two voices came from the unit next to hers. Reaching over and pulling the curtain back, she saw a young couple, each wearing softball team shirts. The young woman was sitting next to the bed that the man was laying in, his head wrapped in a bandage, holding an icepack to his forehead.

“What happened to you?” Pastor Linda asked.

The man flinched upon recalling the incident that brought him here. “A bad hop from the infield grass; caught me under the brim of my hat.” He pointed to the woman, who was wearing both hats on her head, his over hers. “Took the hat right off my head!”

“Nearly took your head off with your hat, you mean.” She laughed, but it was obviously a nervous laugh. Her face belied the worry she felt.

Not wanting to pry, but always interested in talking to new people, Pastor Linda asked, “Do you like the story, so far? When did you start listening?”

The couple looked at each other. The woman spoke. “It sounded like a job interview, I think.”

Pastor Linda nodded. “That’s right. Paul is a grad student, his professor has disappeared, his internship fell through, and he just got hired by the folks running a nudist camp ground to lay a brick patio, stock up and deliver things and food, and assist Howard, the groundskeeper.”

Pastor Linda decided to see where and how this couple might relate with a character like Paul.

“Have either of you ever been to a nudist…I guess they don’t call them colonies anymore, do they? More like resorts, or like this, a campground.”

The pair looked at each other sheepishly. Pastor Linda began to feel that she had overstepped her bounds, when the young woman spoke.

“Well, we had spent a weekend together,” she said, distraughtly.

“Michelle, I thought we agreed that we weren’t going to bring that up?” said the man, harshly. “To anyone, let alone a minister.”

Clearly, Pastor Linda struck a nerve, and regretted it. “My apologies, if I over stepped my bounds, or brought up something between you.”

The young woman, Michelle, was instantly on the defensive, but seemed to need to explain herself. “It’s okay. We were...” She saw the look on the man’s face, a combination of anger, regret, remorse, and acceptance, “…drunk. We came home from a friend’s party late. It was a hot night, and the A/C was out at my apartment. In fact, all the power was off. People had candles and flashlights; some were sleeping out on their balconies. Chad made a joke about taking our clothes off, and took his t-shirt off, throwing it down on a chair like a dare. I took off my top, one thing lead to another, and before we knew it…all we had on was our skin.” She clearly looked disturbed about it. “One thing lead to another; we ended up in bed together. It wasn’t how either of us wanted that.”

The man looked completely crest-fallen. Their secret was out, not only to a stranger, but to a woman of the cloth. “That was our first, and only, time together. I didn’t want that for her; for us, to be like that. It was the alcohol. I haven’t really enjoyed drinking anything, beer, hard liquor, since.”

Clearly this couple had some issues. Pastor Linda could listen, even absolve them of their sin, real or imagined, but she couldn’t turn back time, or make the bad feelings they had go away. She decided to let God, and time, do the healing work that needed to be done.

“What happened when you woke up the next morning?” she asked.

Michelle continued. “Chad wanted to leave. That made me feel cheap; like it was a one-night stand.”

Chad interrupted. “That wasn’t my intention. I thought she wanted some space, some time to think. I offered to stay, and I said I would stay, naked, you know, so that I was just as vulnerable, too. We ended up the whole weekend like that. But no more sex. That bird already flew from the nest.”

Michelle burst out in nervous laughter. “It was so hot in the apartment. We opened up every window, the sliding door to the balcony, even inflated a pool raft to sleep on, out on the balcony. Remember that little boy from the place next door?” Michelle looked at Pastor Linda, looked her right in the eye. “Cute little guy; must’ve been about four or five. All we did was lay there, holding hands, right? He looked over the railing at us, and said, ‘Hey, mommy, the neighbor lady and her friend are nakey just like you and me and daddy are.’” She laughed nervously again. “I met them at the mailbox later that week. I couldn’t look at them. It just seemed too embarrassing. We never spoke about it at all. They moved out a few months later.”

Pastor Linda was curious. “Embarrassed? Why? Because everyone concerned wasn’t wearing anything. It seemed everyone made a choice about it, right?”

Chad finished. “Yeah! We spent the rest of the weekend nude, cleaned the apartment, cooking, eating, whatever. Took a shower as best we could; all cold water. Water heaters were all electric. At least the stove was gas.”

Michelle got serious again. “That’s when we decided that we would live together. Been together ever since, what? Two years now!”

Pastor Linda went out on a limb with her next question. “Sounds like there’s still an eight-hundred pound gorilla in there, somewhere?”

Chad and Michelle looked at each other. “We want to have a proper relationship, but something keeps me from getting closer.” Michelle stared off into the distance. “Maybe it’s the whole sex thing, I don’t know. Both of us are uncomfortable seeing the other nude ever since that first time.”

“The only time,” Chad added.

“I still can’t call it making love. It just wasn’t. It’s not like I’m ashamed of my body; I’m just ashamed of how I behaved that night. None of this makes any sense, does it?” Michelle asked.

Chad’s face brightened. “Maybe if we hear more about Paul, and where he goes with this, we can catch some insight, fill in the missing pieces!”

Linda wasn’t so sure. It sounded like Chad wanted to steer the conversation away from him and Michelle. She doubted that a story would solve their problems, even if they stayed through the end. “Okay!! But just in case you want to talk, here.” She handed Michelle her card, and started to read aloud.

George decided that he needed to get back to his walk about. Howard took Paul over to the Pump House.

“On this end of the Pump House is our shed.” He opened the latch; there was no lock. “We don’t have any theft issues, so we never purchased a lock.” He pulled the door open, and showed Paul where the bags of charcoal were, extra firewood, a lawn tractor with trailer, various hand and power tools.

“Let’s walk around the side here, and I’ll show you the rest of it.” They walked around the corner to the side closer to the pool. Along the outer wall were six old showerheads, with equally old tap fixtures mounted in the wall. “Everyone takes their shower here, after using the pool, or on very hot days, or after some hard work.” He couldn’t help jabbing Paul in the ribs, again.

There were two entry ways into the Pump House, one at both ends of the shower wall. Paul could see that they were going through the entryway marked ‘Women’. Taking the u-turn he could see another six showerheads and their tap fixtures mounted on the inside of the wall. Aside from the piping for the shower taps, the wall wasn’t actually attached to the building.

From where he stood, he could see the other entrance at the far end; if that one was marked ‘Men’, it didn’t matter. There was no separating wall. Once inside the shower wall, Paul could see toilet facilities, both stalls and urinals, at both ends; all open, no real privacy, very much a family-style toilet area. Mounted on the far wall opposite the showers were lockers in various shapes and sizes, with several sets of benches in between.

Howard explained. “Folks use this area to change out of, or into, their clothes, if they haven’t changed one way or the other at their cars, or at their campsite. That happens a lot; nobody makes a fuss, it’s no big deal.”

He turned on one of the hot water faucets. Cool water came out. It never got any warmer. Howard didn’t seem to mind as the water splashed over his feet and legs. “The water for these, and the four out by the pool, comes from the large tank up on the roof. It’s open at the top, catching rain water. Lots of people like to use” he fingered air quotes, “natural water. Like the water that comes in from outside the camp is somehow ‘unnatural’,” he laughed. He turned it off, and asked Paul, “Seen enough?” There wasn’t much to see. “The pool machinery is in a shed similar to the one we just saw, only on the opposite end, on the other side of that line of urinals.”

“Now, one thing George and I were thinking is that we would like to leave as much of the patio as intact as possible through the Memorial Day weekend. So, take the week to look over the project, figure out what you’re going to need, how many bricks, sand, whatever, and now that you know how we deliver consumables, think about how you want to work it smarter, not harder.” He chuckled, and shook his head. He really hoped this young man could help turn a few things around without busting the bank.

Howard walked out of the Pump House, Paul following close behind. He waved to Laura as they walked across the outside shower area. She was serving a tray full of food to her four customers. She waved back, using the over-sized tray.

“Well? Have you made up your mind yet, regarding the tent or the bungalow?” he asked.

Paul thought about it for a moment. “I’m guessing the tent would most likely be the way to go at this point. Even though I haven’t seen the inside of either, the tent just sounds more appealing, somehow.”

“Sounds good! I’ll take you over there, and help you set up. George said you get an air-mattress, some sheets and pillows. We can get the air-mattress from the shed.” He opened the door again, and pulled an old air-mattress off of the shelf. A few toilet paper rolls fell off the shelf as he pulled.

“That reminds me. In addition to the brickwork and the deliveries, you’ll help me with grass mowing, pruning, and keeping the toilets clean. Make sure there are plenty of toilet paper rolls. We always stock up after a busy weekend, and we will need some more for this weekend. We should be fairly busy, and with you learning the job, well, into the breach, as it were.”

He picked up an electric air pump, and the power cord adapter for the outlet in the golf cart. He found a few pillows that needed much more fluffing than they would ever have, and a fitted sheet. No top sheet.

“You wouldn’t happen to have a set of sheets, or at least a top sheet and a pillow case, or two, would you?” Howard questioned. “Maybe a blanket?”

Paul nodded. “I have a blanket, so I won’t need a top sheet. Pillow cases, I’ll have a problem with.”

Howard dropped all that he picked out into the back of the golf cart and together they went over to the tent at High Noon 17, unzipped all the flaps, ran a quick broom through it, filled the mattress with air, and made it up.

“You’ve had a busy day. Why don’t you take a rest, walk around a bit if you want, and we’ll think up something for your dinner.”

Paul wasn’t going to argue with that. As Howard drove away, Paul zipped the door up, put his clipboard on the floor, laid back on the mattress, and as he was slowly mesmerized by the shifting shadows of tree branches on the sides and top of the tent, he drifted off, feeling the comfort of being nude in the afternoon heat.

Continued in Part 4

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