Wednesday Afternoon: Police Action

Although Paul wasn’t officially ‘at work’, he and Howard zipped around camp on the golf cart, making a few consumable deliveries to the bungalow residents, before getting supplies stacked for the Memorial Day weekend.

Martha called over the walkie-talkie. “There are visitors here who need to talk to Paul!” was all she said.

Howard and Paul drove over to the Admin Office. As they crossed over into the outer parking lot, they saw a police car.

“Something you want to tell me?” said Howard. “Now would be a good time!” He laughed, hoping to put Paul at ease, but he was a bit concerned.

As they pulled up, Howard reached under his seat and brought out a pair of old grey gym shorts. “Put these on,” he said. “We aren’t supposed to be nude in the outer lot or in the Admin Office when we have outside visitors.”

Paul looked at Howard as he got out of the cart, pulling on the shorts. “But you and George were nude when you both came in Monday afternoon for my job interview. And Martha took off her shirt soon after.”

Howard screwed up his face as if trying to remember what happened just forty-eight hours ago.

“That was different! You weren’t a visitor. You were a job applicant. If you stayed, which you did, this,” he waved his arms referring to their current naked state, “wouldn’t much matter. If you didn’t take the job,” continuing to wave his arms, “it still wouldn’t matter, since we would most likely never see you again. But these are police officers, and are definitely visiting. They may come back again, and we want to show that we take pains to cover up when needed, and follow our own common sense rules.”

As Howard wheeled the cart around, and headed back into camp, Paul snapped the waistband on the shorts, hopped up the steps, and went in.

Martha had a worried look on her face when Paul walked in and closed the door. “Paul, these officers want to talk to you!” she said, concerned.

A man in a suit stepped forward, flashing a badge and a picture ID. “Paul Thompson? I’m Detective David Barrett. This is Officer Wendy Casey,” pointing to the uniformed female officer who was obviously giving him the once-over, twice, and seemed disappointed that the nudist camp wasn’t living up to its theme.

“Have you seen your professor, Doctor Benjamin Franks? Heard from him in any way?”

“No! Not for over a week now. It’s why I’m here. Without his input, my internship at a commercial botanical science lab fell through,” said Paul, now clearly perplexed and concerned, especially with the police involved. “He dropped me off at my apartment, and I saw him drive up the street. That’s the last I saw or heard of him. What’s going on?”

“He’s disappeared! Nobody knows where he is. The University called the police in last Thursday, when he hadn’t shown up for work for the third day in a row. Does he have any family in the area? Do you know of any issues he might have had with them or anyone at the University? Did he have any shady business dealings with anyone on or off campus?”

Paul shook his head no to each of those questions, until that last question. “Why would you ask a question like that? Shady business dealings?” He made a rude noise with his mouth.

Barrett was unperturbed. “Well, with all the laws changing regarding medical marijuana, sales and distribution, and him being a renowned botanical scientist, you can see how…..” he never finished his thought. The pained look on Paul’s face told him all he needed to know. For now!

He handed Paul his business card. “If you think of anything, anything at all; nothing too small or off the wall oddball will be eliminated out of hand, okay?” He and the officer left, leaving Paul with a bitter taste in his mouth.

Thursday Morning: Bricks & Buckets Brigade

Paul got up early, dressed, and walked up to Howard’s jeep. He reached under the front seat and pulled out the keys. He checked the glove box for the registration, started up the Jeep, sat back, closed his eyes, and gave a small prayer of thanks and blessings for the day, especially about the idea for saving money on his brick laying job that he had the night before.

He drove out, waving to George and Martha, who were standing nude in the office window, drinking their coffee, and getting their day started. His first stop was Whoomlee’s Hardware, Home and Garden, since it opened at 7AM. He went in and asked to speak with the manager about ordering bricks that were listed as ‘seconds’, or of a lower quality. Together, they found that there were several lots available for inexpensive prices, where an order of a few thousand bricks could be had for the same price as several hundred bricks of ‘first’, or highest, quality. Paul picked through the lots he wanted, and asked the manager if he could put a ‘hold’ on them. He explained that he wasn’t able to do anything on his own yet, not until he got some information from the Board of Directors regarding his project budget. Once assured, he presented Howard’s credentials as a Preferred Customer, and the manager, a Mr. LaMonte, would put the transaction through once he got the go ahead from either Paul or Howard over the weekend.

Paul left the store and the manager saw the next customer, a man he knew from the maintenance division over at State University. He was surprised when the man asked about his previous customer.

“Was that Mister Thompson from Magnolia and Moss?” the man questioned.

“Why, yes! I believe so! Why do you ask?” asked Mr. LaMonte, curious.

“I’ve been authorized to ask that if the University’s Preferred Customer bonus and benefits plan are greater than his, to have him get that as if it were the University doing the purchasing.”

The manager smiled. “Of course!! No problem at all!”

LaMonte knew that what the man asked violated several standing policies of Whoomlee’s, but that didn’t concern him. He saw an opportunity to continue skimming from the profits this store made. He would do some creative computer manipulation, show an order for high quality bricks, charge the University, and deliver the seconds, as originally ordered. Then, he could nicely pocket the profits without anyone being the wiser. He’d been doing this sort of thing since Thanksgiving, and had already amassed over $40,000 dollars. With a good summer season, like this Memorial Day weekend was already shaping up to be, he could disappear with a nice chunk of change.

He finished with the man, waved the cashier back, and went into his office. He didn’t notice that one of his part-time employees had witnessed the entire transaction. Old Betty, as she was known by her fellow employees and a number of customers, ‘Old Bat’ by LaMonte, continued to stock the end of the aisle with the weekend specials, and made a note on the tablet that she used for inventory. The application she used, however, wasn’t one that the other employees had on their inventory tablets. She noted the date and time, what names she could hear, all under the subject heading “bricks”.

Paul left Whoomlee’s happy with the prospect of potentially saving M&M several thousand dollars, but still getting the materials he needed. In addition to the bricks, he noted that the store was well stocked with the gravel and sand that he was going to need, as well. But he was already thinking about other plans as he got back into the jeep. ‘Now for a project that I can do for minimal expense, only a little time, and a few things around the pool that won’t be missed’, he thought.

He made five stops, each at a fast food restaurant, on the way back to M&M. By the time he left the last one, he had 28 food-quality buckets, and 32 lids for them. A few of the buckets and lids looked busted or cracked, and would need to be discarded, but he was sure he had enough of what he needed to make something that quite a few people would be happy to have.

Paul parked the jeep in front of his tent, got undressed, and unloaded the lids, and all but one bucket, stacking everything around his picnic table. He got an old towel, laid it across the driver’s seat, and drove the jeep up to the inner lot. He parked it back in its usual corner spot. Almost everyone considered that corner spot to be Howard’s parking spot, since he was always on call to drive off the grounds for something that was needed and not immediately available. Paul knew that that was going to be one of his jobs, now.

Paul then walked over to the shed where all the pool machinery and supplies were. He looked through the foam noodles that the kids liked to play with around the pool. He chose only those that had seen better days: faded, ripped up, and worn out. He laughed out loud when he found two of them with teeth and bite marks. After he had found eight of the worst, he grabbed a few rolls of toilet paper from the other shed on the opposite side of the Pump House, piled everything into the bucket, and walked back to his tent.

He reached into his small fanny pack that he started wearing to hold some tools and other items that he found helpful, took out a box cutter, and cut one of the noodles to fit around the top of another bucket. Then he unhooked the handle, slid a roll of toilet paper onto it, and reconnected the handle. Now all he had to do was add a plastic bag, put a lid on, and voila: a camper’s toilet!

Continued in Part 3

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