One of several unwritten rules at M&M gave Howard, and now Paul, a dinner break and time to enjoy Saturday evening with the guests. If a camper or resident did not place an order for charcoal, water, ice, or firewood, by 6PM, they would have to go to the storage areas near Laura's Raw and Saucy food counter or over by the Pump House and get it themselves.

When Paul got to the pool, he found Howard and Doris sitting at one of the tables that dotted the grassy space between the pool and Laura's counter. Howard handed him one of Laura's menus featuring the standard fare as well as the weekend specials.

"I was told to tell you to order anything you want. Everything is paid for; you just need to order what you want. But just remember, Laura's swill is still Laura's swill." Howard could not help but smile. Everyone knew that he would order one of everything for a starving person, given half a chance.

Paul did not understand the generosity, but decided on a grilled fish salad, and a large Laura's Special Brew iced tea. Laura took his order, then asked if Doris and Howard were good with theirs. When she returned a few minutes later, she served a dinner-plate sized salad and iced tea in a large plastic cup to Paul. She had nothing for Howard and Doris, who got up from their places at the end of the picnic table.

Doris left an 80-page booklet behind for Paul, saying, "Here, read this. It's a bit more interesting than those dry, sterile, textbooks you're forced to read." She handed it to him; 'Herbs and Herbal Legends of the British Colonies in North America, 1607-1775'.

"You can keep it for a few weeks, but I'll need it back before the Solstice," she said. She and Howard left, hand in hand, heading toward Howard's trailer.

Paul dug simultaneously into his salad and into the book. He was just finishing the first half of his salad and the introduction to the book when he felt a hand tapping across his shoulders and upper back. Before he could respond, Frejdis sat down next to him, where Doris sat, Gunnar across the table where Howard sat, and Kate, directly across from Paul.

Paul could look Kate and Gunnar in the eye, and acknowledged them, but with Frejdis it was different. He remembered that she was there earlier that morning. She caught him praying and he felt embarrassed, not so much for praying, but for what sometimes happened when he prayed. She noticed his nervousness.

"Paul!" She waited for him to acknowledge her. "Paul!" she said a bit more forcefully. He turned his head toward her, caught her eye for a moment, dropped his head, realized he was looking at her breasts, and turned his head to look at the center of the table.

"I spoke with Howard earlier. He seemed to think that you were embarrassed that I was standing there, watching you pray this morning. You shouldn't be embarrassed for praying. I am an ordained pastor, after all. I pray all the time," she said.

"I know that," Paul began. "I mean, I didn't know you were a pastor at the time, and I didn't know you were standing right there, and I didn't want you to see..." He looked down between his legs. "I didn't want you to see my...excitement!" he finished.

"Your excitement? I don't understand!" she said. Paul saw out of the corner of his eye that Gunnar and Kate leaned in a bit more, to be sure they heard and heard clearly what he was going to say.

Paul quickly realized that he was going to reveal this most embarrassing secret of his 20-something years.

He sighed in resignation. "Sometimes. Not all the time. Just sometimes. When I pray...early in the morning...at sunrise...especially when I feel passionate about something or someone, or think it's important...I get..." He closed his eyes, feeling the blood rising in his tanned face, his chest, "I get...excited! Down there!"

He swallowed hard, and looked Frejdis in the eye, waiting for...what? He did not know.

Frejdis was nodding her head up and down, just a bit, not much, her face unreadable to Paul. When she spoke, it took Paul completely by surprise.

"I see!" she said, quietly, in a neutral voice, showing not a bit of outrage, or embarrassment, or condemnation, or anything. "And?" she coaxed, wanting to hear more.

Paul was dubious. "And?" he repeated. "Isn't that enough? I mean, praying to God, and getting..." he trailed off a bit, "and getting an...!" He could not finish his thought, feeling too ashamed to go on. He could not even look at Kate or Gunnar anymore. For a strapping 24-year old young man, broad-chested, with rower's shoulders, he looked utterly embarrassed and dejected.

Frejdis reached out with her right hand, putting it on his sweaty back, at the base of his neck. When he did not pull away, she took that as his permission for touch, squeezed just a bit to get his attention, and turned her hand. Paul took the hint, turned his head, and looked at Frejdis, raising his eyes from her belly-button, past her breasts, and to her eyes. He saw her smile.

"Paul, believe it or not, God doesn't just appear to people in a scholarly way. I mean, some people read the Bible for inspiration, and find a chapter or verse that gives them solace and comfort. Others pray, and sense God moving in their heart or soul. Jesus became the physical embodiment of God; walked among us, touched people, and allowed himself to be touched. Even Thomas had to put his hand in Jesus' chest, and feel the holes in His hands to believe. Nearly everybody, even clergy, forget that the third part of God is the Holy Spirit who shows up in infinite ways to all, but is never formally appreciated. It seems to me you have connected to God the Father through the Holy Spirit, manifesting itself as...well...physical excitement. Can you describe how you feel at that point?" she asked.

Paul thought for a moment, thought about all those times he prayed, just at the moment the sun rose above the horizon, facing it, feeling the light, warmth, and joy of the new day to come, like a soft blanket around his shoulders. He was not much of a church-goer; his father was not a 'true believer'. He described how he always prayed nude, something he did from when he was a child. His body would become warm, even the parts in shadow or not exposed to the Sun somehow, his back, his legs, his feet. His bare skin became sensitive to everything, every photon of light, every shift of the wind, everything he touched or that touched him. He suddenly remembered a hand, a woman's hand, his...mother's hand, around his shoulders, almost the way Frejdis' hand was now. Paul did not tell them that bit of remembrance. That seemed too personal. There was something about that, something about his mother, something in the way she taught him to pray. He needed to think about it, jog the memory of his mother. He wondered where she would be right now, if she were still alive.

Frejdis glanced at Gunnar, and he took his cue. What needed to be said now was better coming from a man, someone who had been where Paul is now, a shared 'been there, done that' experience. But Gunnar also came from a position of authority within this naturist setting, something Paul was only beginning to understand. He had only met the Iversens twenty-five hours ago, and he had not been at M&M a full week yet. Lots to learn, mostly by experience.

"Paul, obviously you know in this place, and other places like this, when a man gets...excited, he covers himself with a towel, or jumps into the pool, or" he held his arm across his chest, horizontal with the tabletop, "hold a towel or something just so to cover yourself and take a walk."

"Now, in some naturist homes, especially among family and close friends, it's understood that 'excitement' might happen, for whatever reason, and not even sexual reasons. No embarrassment need be felt; nothing needs to be done or said. Everyone understands that what comes up will eventually go back down...in less time than it takes to make a bag of popcorn it becomes a non-issue."

Laura brought out a platter tray full of dinner salads, appetizers, and three pitchers, two with her special iced tea, one with only ice.

"You see, some people consider a man's 'excitement' to be a formal accusation against him, and his behavior, real or imagined. They make it into more than it needs to be, causing shame and embarrassment that need not happen. But there are two other factors that come into play, factors that few people take into consideration, and by not doing so, cause more harm than not."

"What are they?," Paul asked.

Frejdis finished her plastic tumbler of iced tea, and placed it on the table. "Context and intent. Take this morning for example. What was the context? You were sitting there, alone, looking out over the parking lot, staring at the rising sun, like a human goal post, praying, weren't you?" When Paul nodded his head, she said "Hardly an occasion for sexual activity of any sort!" Gunnar quietly chuckled. Kate smiled.

"And what was your intent?" When Paul looked perplexed, Frejdis continued.

"Did you do anything to induce your 'excitement'?" she asked.

"No." Paul stated.

"Did you stimulate yourself in any way to maintain your 'excitement'?"

"No!" Paul said, again.

"Did you, or were you, intending to engage in sexual self-gratification?"

"No!!" Paul stated, so emphatically that several people turned their heads to see what was happening, make sure everything was okay.

Frejdis just smiled. "Then why on Earth should you have felt embarrassed?"

Paul said "I wasn't intending to display my 'excitement' in front of other people!"

Frejdis snorted. "Unless people slept in their cars last night, I don't believe you had much to worry about."

As Paul and the Iversen family finished their dinner Paul felt a lot less embarrassed about his prayer time, especially around Frejdis. Laura came out with a platter to help clear the table, handing Gunnar a receipt to sign. Since nobody had pockets, and few people carried wallets or pocketbooks, everybody signed a receipt, and would be charged against the credit card they had registered with when they became members or paid their fees as a weekend or 1-Day guest. Paul quickly eyed the receipt from across the table as Gunnar signed it, noting that there were four dinner salad meals listed. So, the Iversens were the ones paying for his dinner.

Kate asked Paul to take part in evening activities, while Frejdis and Gunnar let their dinner settle.

"What do you think of him, Frejdis?" asked Gunnar.

She chuckled. "He's cute! And just what Kate needs right now. Someone her age to pal around with. I do hope they get involved in some fun activities this evening. Take his mind off his troubles. He will be staying with us, right?"

"Oh, absolutely!"

After dinner, the next few hours were spent in and around the pool. Paul was introduced to members, both long-term and new. He and Kate swam, played volleyball, cornhole, lawn darts, and threw either balls or frisbees with the younger children. Once, several children tackled Paul, trying not to let him up. He had a wonderful time, and the evening's events took his mind off his troubles. It was not until he and the Iversens were walking from the pool to the campsite that Paul remembered that he did not have a tent to return to.

"You may not remember, or may not have heard me this afternoon. With the twins spending another overnight with their friends, we have the room to spare," said Frejdis.

"Uh, I don't wish to impose," he struggled, now looking at Kate, and feeling a stirring. He took the opportunity to check on his stuff on the picnic table. Everything was there, of course; nothing was missing. Incredibly, the mayonnaise jar on his picnic table was filled with more $5s, $10s, $20s, and a $50. Gunnar encouraged Kate to help Paul count it, a whopping $345.

After they finished counting, Paul wondered what he should do with it all. Both Frejdis and Gunnar believed nobody was going to steal it, that someone might have a large bill they needed to get change for, and that a 'salted' jar would always draw more money than an empty one. So, the young adults stuffed it back in, and left it sitting right in the middle of the table.

"As for where you are going to sleep, grab what you need, and come on in with us." Gunnar's intonation, while inviting, still had a little of the Board of Director's commanding voice to it. Paul grabbed his pillow, wool blanket, and a small hand towel, as instructed.

Kate went into the tent first, crawling to the far left-hand side. Gunnar went in next, followed closely by Frejdis. Paul still was not too sure about all this, but being the last to enter, he took his time to zip the tent flap closed, leaving the top of it open for fresh air to flow through.

When Paul turned around, he saw Kate brushing her hair. She had rinsed it only ten minutes prior, under the outdoor fresh water shower head at the Pump House, but now, it was nearly dry, and probably would have been fully dry were it not for the humidity in the air. He watched as she handed the brush over Gunnar to Frejdis, who started brushing her own hair. Paul realized, not for the first time, that they both had long, middle of the back-length hair, blonde, Kate's a touch redder, and despite being completely nude, nothing about this seemed out of the ordinary at all.

Frejdis brushed about a dozen strokes, and patted the air mattress next to her, taking Paul's pillow and putting it at the 'top' of the mattress, nearer the back of the tent.

"Here, Paul, next to me." She patted his pillow, and then her own, dropping the brush off the back of the mattress into her open overnight bag. Then she lay down, moving closer to Gunnar, spooning behind him despite the heat and humidity of the evening. Paul rolled his wool blanket out across the 'bottom' of the air mattress, laying his feet on top of it, and lay back, exhaling the day that was, inhaling the night that would be.

* * *

Continued in Part 3

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