Date: Sat, 26 Apr 2014 22:50:26 -0400 From: d.a. w Subject: The Roommate Chapter 15 The Grand Tour My apologies for the length of time it has taken for this chapter to be added to the story. Sometimes one's day job has to come first. ALSO Please remember to support Nifty with a donation. It costs to have this great site, and we all need to support it. The Roommate Chapter 15 The Grand Tour The ending of Chapter 14 "Yes, let's start the tour!" Beau exclaimed, and we walked down to the horses, and with a little bit of help, both of us mounted, and with Beau slightly in the lead, we began riding down the drive way. Lining the end of the driveway was a stand of trees which cut off all view from the driveway to whatever was beyond that large parking area behind the garage As we rode closer to the trees I saw that there were paths through the trees, and Beau was leading me toward one of those paths. I could see that the paths were paved with raked and manicured covering of woodchips. I somehow felt like Dorothy in "The Wizard of Oz" beginning the yellow brick road to new sights and new adventures. Chapter 15 The Grand Tour As I followed Beau into the beginning of this path through the trees, I figured out that the paths did not do straight through the tree stand; rather they must have almost been at a forty five degree angle. I wondered why the paths would be designed like this until I figured out that until we reached the end of this path through the trees that the rider saw nothing but trees until the very end of the path. When we emerged from the tree line, I saw that Beau had stopped and awaited me. I brought my horse up to be beside Beau's and looked out on the vista in front of us. Immediately in front of us was a very large area of sheds, and beyond the sheds I could see the fields. The fields nearest the sheds were corn fields which I could recognize from the cornfields that dotted the rural areas of Massachusetts. When I pulled my horse to be beside Beau's horse, he began explaining. "What you see immediately are the sleeping quarters for the involuntary servants who are field workers. These involuntary servants have been convicted for more serious crimes than those who we use in the home, and also might not have shown any interest or possible skills in household duties. White collar criminals and those who might have been in service jobs before their convictions are more likely to be qualified for household assignments. I thought we would begin the tour here so that you can see how field servants live here at Pleasant Acres." Beau paused here, looking out over the numerous structures in front of us. I did not know whether he was expecting a comment from me, but at the moment I was just taking in the scene, and could not think of anything to say. "Follow me and I'll show you where field involuntary servants spend their time when not working." I nodded my head and followed the fifteen feet to one of the sheds. Beau dismounted, and so did I. We had not walked more than five feet when a man came running out toward us. He was in the black and white striped clothing and like those I had seen on my first day at Pleasant Acres and like the suits I remembered from that first day his black and white striped suit gleamed in the sun. His collar was also like the ones I had seen before. It was a band of steel probably an inch and a half to two inches high, and about a half in thick. The ankle and wrist cuffs were similarly sized. Up close I could that the collar and cuffs each had four "D" rings spaced equally around the circumference. His feet were in thick souled work boots, and like the rest of his attire, his boots were clearly well worn, but they also were polished. "Master Beau, SIR, my apologies, SIR. SIR I was informed that you and your guest would be inspecting the pens SIR, but was not told that the inspection would be today, SIR. SIR had I known, I would have had the gangs here and ready for inspection, SIR." "That's all right Supervisor. I did not want any special routines for today as I wanted my friend from Massachusetts to see how our involuntary servants work and live exactly on a normal day. So, that way I could give him a true-to-life look at what your life is like here at Pleasant Acres. He wants no special welcome shows or demonstrations. In fact Supervisor I am going to leave you with Master Frank here. You are to answer all his questions fully and honestly. Master Frank is from Massachusetts and you know that the New England States do not use involuntary servants, and I want him to hear from the involuntary servants here exactly how their service here works. I am going to the supervisors' office and you should bring Master Frank there after you are done. "SIR yes SIR" the servant replied. At this time, Beau left the room, and servant and I were looking at each other. This situation was a surprise to each of us, and so we both just stood and looked at each other without talking. After that initial time of silence however, the involuntary servant spoke up. "SIR, my involuntary servant number is 613 210 541, SIR. SIR most supervisors call us servants only by the last three digits, SIR, and so normally a master or supervisor would call me 541, SIR" "Well 541, I have never been in any involuntary servant quarters before so tell what the quarters are like here, and also how different these are from others that you know about." "Well, let me take you to my pen, SIR." "Lead the way." Immediately 541 started walking down a concrete walkway. "Sir all the servant pens here at Pleasant Acres are considered by the servants to be as fine as we might ever have, SIR SIR some other servants in my coffle have had some experience in other servant pens, and they will tell you that those here at Pleasant Acres are the best that an involuntary hard labor servant could ask for. We are all grateful that we were considered worthy of having our indenture purchased by Master Beau's family, SIR. By this time we had traveled down the sidewalk by several pens, but the side curtains of these pens were down, and so I could not see inside. Finally we arrived at 541's pen and he paused. "Here we are! SIR." What I saw did not seem great to me. Three sides were open to the elements, and the fourth was a concrete wall that went up to the roof. Over the top of the side bars was a ceiling of bars. The floor was concrete. "Some of the aspects of the pen are mandated by state law, SIR." 541 continued. The involuntary servants are offenders against the law, and therefore the state reasons that they should be in a secure area overnight. Therefore the walls of their sleeping area must be secure. Here in Tennessee since most of our year is fairly warm, most involuntary servant sleeping pens are open bared cages. However, here at Pleasant Acres our pens are the envy of every other involuntary servant in the state, SIR. SIR if I could show you to service area between the two pens of this Unit, Unit16, you would see just how thoughtful the owners of Pleasant Acres are, SIR. SIR you would see a large water heater because the water for the shower area is actually heated, SIR. SIR the state does not mandate heated water for involuntary servant showers, SIR, but here at Pleasant Acres, we servants can have hot showers every Saturday, and warm showers all the other days, SIR. SIR you may not realize just how special that makes all of us involuntary servants feel that the persons who control our lives have decided to give us this consideration, SIR." I nodded in agreement. Actually 541's enthusiasm did make sense to me. If I worked hard in the fields, I would like to have a warm shower rather than a cold shower every day, and the luxury of a hot shower once a week would indeed make that very special and appreciated. I could imagine that the extra consideration would indeed impress the involuntary servants who were probably protected by few restrictions on their treatment. "That's not all, SIR!" 541 continued. Look back here at the wall, SIR." I walked back to the wall, and looked to see that I was supposed to notice. I did notice the four shower heads that he had pointed to before. Looking back down the wall all the way from the shower heads I did notice four smaller pipes sticking out from the wall probably about five feet up from the floor. It the end of each pipe was a rubber stopper that looked a little like a cross between a baby bottle nipple and the end of a penis. "SIR these are our water spigots, SIR." Here was a small pause. "Aren't they great SIR?" I must admit that I did not quite see how fabulous a water source shaped like a nipple could be. "SIR. I am sorry SIR. I forgot what MASTER told us SIR. SIR, MASTER told us that SIR is not aware of common practices for involuntary servants are, SIR. SIR most masters have these water pipes down just about eighteen to twenty inches from the floor, SIR. SIR most actually put them on a wall with just a little space to put your feet without slipping into the piss and shit slot, SIR. SIR, also, many masters see fit to make servants suck on a spigot shaped like a cock SIR, to get water SIR. SIR then the overseers make fun of servants calling us a bunch of cock suckers, SIR. SIR being an involuntary servant can be very damaging to a servant's self- image, SIR, and being turned into a virtual cock sucker is just another humiliation that some Masters do to servants to mentally demean them, SIR." I noted his use of the word "demean" and realized this involuntary servant was an educated man before he became 541, involuntary servant. I had noticed that in between where the shower heads were, and where the water spigots were that there was probably six feet of an opening in the floor. The opening looked about ten inches wide and was about eighteen to twenty-four inches from the wall and probably eight feet long. "That's the piss/shit slot, SIR, and that also is special here at Pleasant Acres. The flushing water runs through it until lights out, SIR. SIR again SIR would not know that most places where involuntary servants are employed as field servants, the slots are flushed only at the end of time when servants can clean themselves after their work, SIR, and the piss and shit slot can become really horrible smelly SIR. SIR. In addition we receive new straw every week, SIR. SIR for indentured servants an opportunity to serve your time at Pleasant Acres is considered like going to indentured servant heaven, SIR. "SIR before you leave, SIR, this servant would add another extremely special aspect of our housing, SIR. SIR in the cold part of the year SIR, pipes in the concrete floor have hot water run through them, and so even though we do have the straw, that warm water running through the pipes in the floor makes the concrete not ice cold, but warm SIR, and when the temperature gets too low, SIR, if you could see above the bars at the top of the cage, SIR, tarps come down to trap the heat rising from the floor," and here 541 paused for dramatic effect, and then 541 continued, "AND tarps also down the sides of the cages, SIR, making our cages really special and snug, SIR." Again 541 paused and looked at me. I knew I was supposed to respond with some affirmation of these special qualities, but actually their living conditions still seemed primitive and demeaning to me. Smiling at me 541 paused. "SIR this servant realizes he has just kept talking and not allowing SIR any questions, SIR, but SIR, when 541 mentioned that it was to give SIR this explanation of our living conditions, SIR, the other servants here made a list of things they believed from some of the other servants' experiences in other locations, that I should be sure to point out to SIR as being special and appreciated by us servants here at Pleasant Acres, SIR." "Thank you 541 for all this information, and 541 I am sure that as Master Beau and I travel this summer I will see enough of other situations to fully appreciate all these qualities here at Pleasant Acres." "SIR yes SIR, if you were to visit almost any other plantation, you would soon appreciate, as we do, how much better we are here than almost any other place we have ever heard of, SIR. SIR, do have any questions you would like to ask this servant?" 541 asked. "No, 541, you have been very informative and clear. Thank you." I replied. "SIR may I now escort SIR, back to MASTER BEAU, SIR?" " Yes, thanks," I replied. We walked back from the cages down the walk and into another cage building, but one side of this was not a set of bared cages, but was enclosed by regular walls. "SIR this building is the supervisor's office, SIR. SIR we meet here when called by the officers in charge of the servant gangs, SIR. SIR it is called the supervisor's office, but actually it is where supervisors are given instructions by the guard supervisors. It might be confusing to some, but we know the difference between servant supervisors and guard supervisors, SIR. SIR for us servants, we just call guard supervisors as "MASTER" SIR, because it is actually fairly unusual for any of us to ever see the actually owner of us servants, SIR." When we arrived at the door, 541, stopped. "SIR there is no need for this servant to enter here, SIR, and so this servant will leave you here and return to this servant's assigned work for today, SIR. SIR this servant was honored to serve as your guide, SIR." At this point 541 bowed, and moved down a sidewalk and around the corner of another set of cages. I turned and entered to the door to the Guard Supervisor's Office. Inside I saw Beau sitting at a desk reading a newspaper. "Well, what did you find out on your tour of the involuntary servant pens?" Beau asked me. "I found out that 541 might believe your family could stroll across a pond with how great you are. You had him well prepped for his talk." was my response. "I am shocked and chagrined that you would believe that I would try to sandbag you will some sort of shill." Beau said, clearly peeved. "I am sorry Beau. I was just trying to rile you up. My guide, 541, was enthused to tell me what he considered so many extra considerations and luxuries that, in his estimation, made Pleasant Acres the most best place to serve a term of involuntary servitude in the entire state, and perhaps even beyond this state but also in the entire country which uses involuntary servants." I paused here, expecting Beau to make a comment, but he just continued to look at me disapprovingly. "You think that I gave you a servant who serves as a sort of shill for us?" Beau said quietly but sharply. "Beau...no no I did not mean that at all. I was just impressed at how much that servant wanted to make it clear that Pleasant Acres was the best place to serve a term of involuntary servitude that any servant here has ever known or heard about." I paused to see if my apology had worked. "Frank seriously, I plan to give you the complete tour today. I will in the future allow you to choose at random a servant to talk to, and just to be even more fair, I will not quiz you on what the servants say to you. I will tell you that we have heard from many servants when they find that their involuntary service has been purchased by Pleasant Acres that they applaud and sometimes literally jump with joy. I have also heard that other servants congratulate them on their good fortune." I realized that Beau did not consider the conditions of involuntary servitude at Pleasant Acres fair game for anything but serious and fair comments. With this point in mind, I tried again to make amends for my flip comment. "Beau, every servant I have meet here has repeated the same point. They all have expressed their thanks and luck for serving their indenture here. I know that you and your family could not achieve this reputation and universal appreciation from everyone who would know if your actions did not justify the accolades." Beau looked at me seriously, then smiled, broke out laughing. "GOT YOU AGAIN! I knew that you were just trying to get a reaction out of me, and so I decided I would give you a reaction, but not the one you expected." "Beau! You are absolutely the sneakiest person I have ever known, and I should know that you will always be a step ahead of me. I should just give up and admit that you always will be able to set up situation which will allow you to say `Got Ya' again and again. Now, how about that tour you promised." Beau smiled again. "Absolutely, my friend. Let's go for the tour. I am going to start you furthest from the house here, and we'll work our way back." As Buck spurred his horse into a gentle gallop I followed beside him. I looked to the right as I was spurring my horse to catch up with Beau. It looked like some sort of assembly area. There seemed to be a sort of stage area, and around the front of the stage there was a series of heavy timbered and steel structures. In front of the timbered and steel structures was a very large area of concrete deck. I could see that on the concrete were embedded dark blue stripes of probably three inches in width which marked a large box like area of some probably twenty foot square. In the middle of the squares were Roman numeral markings. I could see the Roman Numerals "I' through "V" on the first row, and several more rows leading back from the first row. I could catch a glimpse of the sun shining off metal on the structures. I was curious, but mindful of Beau's comment and how the tour would happen, just kept my thoughts to myself. Beau however noted my look and stopped. "What you see over there is a state required discipline area. All entities who have the number of involuntary servants that Pleasant Acres has is required to have a discipline area for servants. Every one of the structures you see over there on the right is one of the specific punishment forms which are built to specifications of the state. These structures to punish involuntary servants with many different levels of severity are required by the State of Tennessee and reflects what the State of Tennessee believes is necessary to insure discipline and subservience by the involuntary servants. Do you want to look at that now, or let me start you at the back of the plantation, and we'll work our way back here?" "Beau, I am willing to follow your lead. Why don't we follow your lead and begin at the back and move back here to the home area." "Sounds like a plan" Beau said, and he led me around the stage area to the area where I could begin to appreciate the vast extent of Pleasant Acres. In front of me was a gently rolling series of fields. Between all the fields was a series of paths, or perhaps since they were probably about ten feet across, they would be better described as roads separating separate fields which spread out as far as I could see. The roads were made of what looked like very small wood chips, and also some sort of white powdery material Beau saw me looking down and answered my unasked question. " The roads are made with sawdust from our sawmill where we harvest our forested area on the mountains you see there on the horizon, The white material you see which helps bind the wood material is from the rock quarry which is up by the mountains you see on the horizon to the southeast. The roads define the various fields, but are not permanent, and if we need to change fields for conservation considerations the roads are portable and changed to fit changing needs." Most of the servants who work in the fields work barefooted because the fields are well maintained mixtures of several types of soil which are mixed with fertilizer from our animal herds, and therefore there is no need for boots and other expensive footwear. The width is designed to the size of wagons we use to bring produce back from the fields to the processing area which I will also show you later. As we rode along I could see gangs of servants working in various fields as we rode past. I saw fields of vegetables like lettuce and tomatoes and kale. I soon could not process the variety of produce growing here, and so just began nodding as we rode past. I also noted that the fields were being tended by many gangs of field servants. For each two of three gang of servants tending to weeding, and cultivating and whatever else was being done to make sure whatever was being grown there had personal care, there seemed to be a supervisor riding a horse watching all the servants. As the servants moved in the fields I could see the sun shining off their round steel collars. All of the servant gangs I could see were in the classic back and white striped prisoner pants and shirts. The supervisors on their beautifully groomed horses watched their servant gangs. The supervisors were very impressively dressed pressed shirts that did not show wrinkles, or even damp spots even though they were out in the sun and moving around the servant gangs. Their riding breeches also looked both immaculate and like Beau's and mine, fit tightly to their legs as they guided their horses through their legs as well as the reins. I realized that all the supervisors looked much like George did when I met him on my first time driving into Pleasant Acres. I could occasionally hear shouts from a supervisor. When we came close to a gang working a tomato field, Beau and I slowed our horses down to a walk then just stopped to watch. I was impressed by the quiet surrounding the work. I guess I was expecting there to be a lot of conversations between workers. I even had expected there to be singing. I guess I was thinking of old movies where the slaves sang as they worked the fields. These involuntary servants seemed very focus on their work. I looked at Beau. "Are the servants always this quiet?" Beau continued looking at the work being done but answered me. "Yes, we want servants to concentrate on their task at hand. We actually thought about the "good old days" and encouraged chanting and so forth, but over time, we have determined that having the servants concentrating on the task at hand and not allowing any distraction from singing and talking between servants makes for more efficient production. I noticed that the supervisor moved up and down the whole gang as it worked. The horse was well trained and it did not walk on the produce, but moved between the rows. Suddenly I was a flash of movement, and then several sounds came almost simultaneously. The first was the sound of leather striking a servant, and next was a muted gasp or moan from the servant who had just received the blow, and then from each servant, "Boss sorry boss. This servant will work harder Boss." "61 and 47, I have observed you today and yesterday, and you have not been giving all your attention and care to your work. Tonight when you get back to the cages, I want you both to strip down on be at the bars," I looked at Beau for an explanation. "The supervisor had noticed what I also had thought I noted that those two were keeping up with the rest of the gang, but were doing so by not picking all the product from the plants. When they are told to be at the bars that means when they get back to the cages after the end of the work day, they do not receive the serious punishment from the state mandated devices, but the supervisor here will come by, and they will be stripped down naked, and they will receive a number of stripes from his punishment strap which you see on his wrist. They will be aware that they may receive more or fewer stripes depending on how seriously they try to work extra hard and carefully for the rest of the day. They know that they each will receive two strokes minimum; however, if they try to perform better for the rest of the day then they will only receive the two strokes. But if the supervisor sees him slacking again, he can give up to five strokes, or in extreme cases have him called out for a session at one of the state discipline stations you saw earlier today. It is rare for any servant here to receive a state punishment. As you have noticed most servants are thankful to be here at Pleasant Acres where the guards are very disciplined, and only give stripes when the servant has earned them. It is unfortunate, but on many plantations guards are known to have favorites both to get out of earning stripes every day, and others who earn stripes in the field and at the end of the day. I can show you a punishment strap when we get back to the main area. It is about eighteen inches long and about an inch and a half wide and about a quarter of an inch thick. It does pack a memorable sting, and a servant will work hard and carefully to avoid its encouragement. I noticed as the two servants stood there to receive their reprimand that I saw that the servant not only had a round steel collar, but also round steel wrist cuffs also. Looking down I saw that the steel rings also encircled their ankles. Beau noticed what I had been observing. "The State of Tennessee mandates wrist and ankle cuffs. Whoever purchases the servant's time of service, can specify round cuffs like we use, or one of two types of the wrist and ankles bands that are usually about an inch to inch-and-one half is width and about a quarter of an inch width. We feel the round cuffs allow the servant to still be lockable but the cuffs themselves cause less damage to the wrists and ankles. After the drama we traveled past fields, and then came over a small ridge, and when we got to the top Beau stopped. When I stopped beside I saw another whole aspect of Pleasant Acres. In the valley down from the top of the ridge upon which we had stopped was a series of fenced in animal pens, and as a part of the open areas there also was a shed like pen for the animals also. As I looked down at the servants who were working with the animal operation, I noted that they also were I striped shirt and pants, but their boots were at least up to their knees, and the stripes were brown and white. "Here at Pleasant Acres we also raise and farm animals as well as crops. However, a byproduct of the animals is a lot of manure, and we prefer for this operation to be further from the house." Beau said. He smiled at me, and my scrunched nose conformed that these was definitely an air about the animal farm part of Pleasant Acres that was not very pleasant... at least to my nose. "One interesting fact is that this stench is strong now, but the human nose registers odors that are new. Old news smells really stop being registered by the brain. These servants have to work with animal shit all day, but their noses are assaulted only at the beginning of the day. Supervisors tell us that actually servants and even the supervisors' noses just stop noting the stench after the first hours of work." "I can't wait for that blessing of my no longer being able to smell comes to me." I said vigorously. "Right now my nose sensor is all too aware of the smell of the pigs and the crap." When I got closer I saw that there was actually more than one type of pig being raised in these pens. Beau started to rattle off their various breeds, but I nodded and ignored. The last piece of knowledge I wanted to know was that this type of pig was better for human to have for Christmas dinner, and another was better for bacon, and for rendering as a part of a pig meat sausage. He rattled on; I nodded, but I ignored. The blessing was that soon, it was true. I really started not to notice the smell as we descended the hill and I actually came beside the animal pens. Some servants in their brown striped jumpsuits were watching over the pigs and fed them their swill. The pigs had a choice of being in a large concrete floored shed, or the approximately same sized outdoor sloppy muddy and whatever else filled outdoor area. Some servants were in the indoor shed, and they had squeegee type cleaner which they continually pushed across the cement to clear it of the pig shit. There were other servants who would occasionally spray water across the floor to sort of flush the remaining pig droppings into the muddy outdoor area at the back. Thankfully we left the pigs behind, and went into a series of barns which contained milk cows, The floors of the cow barn were continually cleaned by brushing the cow manure into wheel barrows which were taken out to large manure piles outside the cow barns. "This is the milking parlor" Beau explained to me, which was a sparklingly clean are where the milking machines were attaches to the cows' teats to harvest the cows' milk. Where the cows were kept in the milking area, straw covered the floor, and the whole area was sparkling and the equipment gleamed. "I would much rather be with the cows than the pigs." I told Beau as we left the cow barns, "You got the right." Beau agreed. "However we do have some servants who have actually volunteered for the pig barns." "Why would any servant do anything like that? Are these servants crazy?" was my reply. "No, they are willing to put up with that assignment because we know that it is literally a shit job, and so we have agreed to give the servant two days credit for each day spend in the pig pens. Pleasant Acres was responsible for getting the Tennessee legislature passing a law allowing this double credit for extremely noxious involuntary servant jobs. Of course the double credit is not mandated; it is just allowed. Again that is one reason even the pig servants here are basically happy, and feel fortunate for doing pig husbandry here. Here they receive double credit. On most pig operations the servants who have to work with the pigs put up with a working environment as bad , and frequently worse than what you saw here, but with no incentive to do a good job. I also got to see the chicken and the turkey operations. I hated these also. There was even a rabbit barn. After the rabbit barn, Beau looked at me. "You look like you have seen all you want to see of our confined animals operations. There are more, but are just variations on a theme that is constant for all. Beau then led me down another of the extensive system of paths that led all through the huge property which was Pleasant Acres. As we were riding toward another ridge, I rode leaned over to Beau. "Beau, you have convinced me that Pleasant Acres is indeed an unbelievably extensive agricultural operation. Do you do any manufacturing?" Beau paused. "No my friend, we leave most of that to others. We decided long ago to stick with what we know, and for generations we have known how to be successful farmers." I looked at Beau. "Beau, my friend, your family is clearly many, many, things, but to call yourselves as just farmers really is so far from a normal definition of the word that there has to be something in the language that I do not know that fits Pleasant Acres, but I be damned if I have a clue what that word is." "Frank, from the time we met, I do believe this is a first. You have finally admitted that you just don't have a sufficiently magnificent term to define my family's little plantation business here is Tennessee." About that moment, as I was trying to think of some retort we came to the crest of the ridge. There, just over the ridge a tent had been erected, and there were a number of the servants from the house that I recognized by their distinctive house servant livery of black slacks, black shoes... which were of course shined to the preverbal mirror like shine, white shirt, and a gray jacket "Beau looked at me with the innocent smile. "You probably don't realize it, but we have been gone most of the morning, and it is time for a bit of lunch. I asked the household staff if they had a solution to the problem, as it seemed a waste of time to ride all the way back to the house for lunch. Wellllllll (Beau drew out his Southern drawl here so it seemed like some soprano in an opera singing the last note of her dying scene) you know what they suggested? And just would not take `No' for an answer?" I did recognize that the question was rhetorical. "Well, they insisted that they bring a little lunch out to us." When are arrived at the crest of the hill, a servant was there to take hold of our horses, and as we stepped down to the ground, servants directed up under the tent where a table, complete with a white linen table cloth, china, and silver flatware was set up for us. Two very comfortable chairs were also ready for us to sit down, and I must admit I did appreciate the thick padding of the chair's seat and back was a true luxury after all the riding we had done that morning. We were first served a plate of cheese and several types of crackers. We then received a menu from which to choose our lunch complete with a selection of three wines to go with the lunch. I picked out a pork tenderloin, a fantastic potato salad, and fresh fruit in a sort of compote and told the waiter to bring whatever wine he would suggest to go with my choices. When my food and wine arrived, I looked at the strawberries in the fruit, I thought about the two servants who would be reminded by some pain on their bodies that all strawberries had to be picked so that free persons like Beau and myself would have sufficient and succulent strawberries for out lunch. Beau and I ate lunch and reminisced about Williams. When we finished our lunch, Beau said, well it is a bit of a ride out to the last station. However, it is uncivilized not to let a fine lunch settle. With that Beau led me out of the tent, and toward a place just over the ridge. There two lounges had been set up, and complete with a masseuse we both lay down, had an absolutely fantastic message, and I, took a nap.