"The doctor is in the house!"

 Fort, announces, warmly.

"Wow, you think he owned the property?"

Nicey, thinks bitterly to herself.

Then reprimands herself.

Such a spiteful conclusion to come to.

"Just let him be happy, at least he is in a good mood."

She reasons in her mind.

To be fair, Doctor Fearsome was his contact.

One of the few people who could ever talk him down from self- defeating or impulsive decisions.

He respected him.

His title, his status, his thoughtful demeanor.

Fearsome was Fort's offering to Reston, 'for his health,' much like the trips to Reston's cottage was his offering to Nicey, for 'putting up with him.'

Spiritual well-being for one.

An idyllic stay-cation for the other.

Two extra days work for another.

A boy's weekend that never was for the next.

One man's plot for a connection of some sort for the last.

From what Doctor Fearsome could read from this group, he could tell they were a collection of existentially lonely people.

Most of the world was.

Sad and pathetic.

Unrealized.

It was his earthly job to guide them towards conclusions, not answers per say...

His goal was to present his clients with clarity above anything else, they all knew what to do, unconsciously.

Test them, encourage them to have the fortitude to delve into the sequences that lead them to the path they had chosen.

Life was a set of sequences, it was up to the sequencer to decipher which patterns were cons or pros.

Build or deconstruct from there.

Sitting around the table, the Doctor notices Viviali's fingers interlocked around a can of brew.

He decides against bringing up the alcohol free nature of this weekend...for now.

"So. Do we have everything we need to for our deep meditation exercise this afternoon?"

Reston grinned at the doctor.

"Yeah, I gave Barin the list you sent."

Pleased with himself, he stands arms akimbo, legs apart with sandal-ed  feet  firmly planted on the earth.

"Perfect! You wouldn't happen to have a drum do'yah? I forgot mine."

Shaking his head Reston suggests,

"Shit no, Fort might have one."

As it would turn out Fort did not have a drum.

It was fine.

Fort would escort the good doctor outside of the property on a quest to find a drum.

"In the meantime,"

The doctor announced.

"I will set up the meditation area."

Fort offered to help him.

Viviali jumped one of the ATVs, he is followed by Reston.

Without a glance back, they were halfway down the only visible part of the path.

"Ha! Right before they could be asked for assistance."

Nicey thought to herself amused.

They reminded her of boys she would have befriended by the creek at the park, right across from the house she lived at during her pre-teen years.

The kind she would have delirious fun with in the whimsical self-contained world of the ravine.

But once she returned to the world of cliques, parties and middle-school, they would ignore her publicly.

Even if they did say "hi," they would likely dismiss her to their friends.

"Do you need any help?"

She offers.

Doctor Fearsome pursed his lips, shook his head no.

He was old school.

He may not have needed the aid of the two other men, he knew the chef was busy, but as potential benefices of the upcoming session... probably should have at least offered to help before fucking off into the forest.

Fort's face was tense, she could tell he was mildly annoyed.

Reston was his student once, who he now errand boys for.

Resentment.

Doctor Fearsome could sense it.

The creature in the woods feel the twisted feelings.

Nicey just suspected it.

If Fort's love for Reston could be represented visually, it would be a heart with thorns who stick it from time to time.

Restricting the heart's blood flow randomly, creating new wounds, as it opened old ones.

"Alright then, have fun boys, must be nice."

Fort's representative mutters.

Nicey pretends not to hear Fort mutter under his breath, she caught the Doctor's eyes, they share a quiet sympathetic smile.

Even though he was so difficult, she still felt bad for him.

Once the set up was complete, Fort and the doctor left in Fort's truck.

Relieved, Nicey relaxed, picking up a novel she has been desperately trying to finish for four months.

Barin reappears.

He has been in food prep mode since the early afternoon, preparing  lunch for six.

Extra hours. Extra people. Extra pay.

He was had been present for a previous session. It was cool, but for him it served no purpose, but it was not for him to judge the people his employer knew.

"Hey Barin."

Nicey breaks the silence.

Wondering, if she was imposing herself on this man who just wants to work in peace.

After such a lack of  contact she had with other people through the years, she was rendered awkward and uncomfortable around other people.

Particularly, people who were associated with Fort.

What had he told them?

"How goes it? "

He responds politely.

She cannot resist the urge to share unsolicited information about herself.

"Just been busy applying for jobs. You know. Cover letters. Boring stuff."

Flashing her a reassuring smile. He gives her some mild encouragement.

"Yeah, it can be difficult, give it time. It took me four months before I found this job."

Her face relaxes briefly, before tensing again.

He did not have to say that.

The nice thing.

Although she knew he was being polite, being as she was the guest of the guest of his employer.

"Barin! Can you hold these lights for me."

Reston clutches four long strings of light to hang along the boarders of the cottage yard.

As he surveys the potential hanging places, looking from one tree to the next, Barin rolls his eyes subtly.

"Oh no,"

Nicey looks away, as a former personal assistant who traveled with her employer, she recognized what this was.

Being hired for one job but then being asked to do another.

A delicate dance.

Dragging his feet Barin accepts the lights from his employer, who is now deeply submerged in the throws of  euphoria  so grand, only a fugue state could create it.

It was endearing.

The best part of any journey was always the process, she thought.

Nicey could admit to herself, only to herself, that Reston was attractive.

Superficially.

Hypothetically, had she been single she would have taken a extreme shinning to him.

She had always had a soft spot for a "cocky professor type," a "Wisconsin Bachelor type."

One who tinkers in his garage, painstakingly polishes their collectable figures.

Someone who had their own internal life to draw satisfaction from.

Fort would say it was easy to be pleasant all of the time when you got everything you ever wanted.

Yeah, he was not the Wisconsin bachelor of her dreams after all.

But perhaps he may have had a point.

Reston has been hailed publicly as a genius enigma of the modern times. His one stop retractable tool boxes had made him billions.

Now he  was bracing out into tech.

Sure.

Yet, Nicey would argue that whether his tool boxes made him rich or not, his love for creation, his " access for all" principles," would have spurred him on to create.

Full-time or part-time.

He would always be building.

An hour as passed.

Nicey looks up from fake reading to acknowledge the presence of Viviali, with a smile.

Lighting a cigarette, he pulls hard,  then takes a sip of his beer

"Fort showed me some of your designs."

Yes, she had seen his various designs throughout the city, if you were not an upscale and trendy restaurant if your interior had not been touched by the personal cerebral  designs of Viviali, you were doing it wrong.

He transformed spaces meant for crowds into these edgy avant garde tranquil spaces.

"They are so amazing!"

She cooed.

Ugh, she had not meant to sound so fake, but when she said she thought something was "cool" or "amazing," she did mean it.

Otherwise she would keep her mouth shut.

"Thanks."

His voice is monotone, flat in its affect.

"You know, I just like to drink and hangout when I come here. I don't really talk to other people."

She nods, refocusing her attention to the light hangers.

The first string of lights has been hung.

Reston examines how they hang.

Measuring the distance, imagining all of the other ways  the lights could be hung. 

 Barin trods behind him, heavy footed, eyes resting far in his skull. Chin high head swinging in light defiance.

Reston is unaware , he shields his eyes from the sun with his left hand and squints.

"Can we take that side down?"

He asks Barin.

As if it was a question.

It was but, but also not.

Barin shifts his weight to his right hip. He heaves a sigh, shuts his eyes, then as gracious as any worker he nods 'okay.'

Four pairs of eyes gazing upon him, Viviali and Nicey, Reston's back is to him, he retrieves the ladder.

Another hour has passed.

"Hot sun. Not a hint of wind. Shirt off, sweat, pale florescent skin..."

Nicey  makes up a song in her head

She finds the entire scene highly comedic.

Absurd, with no villain or hero.

Just two different people with different roles.

Viviali startles he by speaking.

"Yeah that's the thing about Reston. Known him since we were kids, before he got famous."

She nods intently, knowing that this is not going to be slander towards his friend, just an honest observation.

Context.

"For him spending his free time completing tasks is fun, not necessarily fun for the people around him. If you are around him, you end up doing chores."

Taking heed of "the friend's lament."

She opens her mouth to state weakly,

"Yeah Fort can be like that too."

Smiling foolishly.

Viviali does not comment.

Not sure, but she is starting to sense that Viviali  is not tremendously fond of Fort.

If so, he probably did not appreciate her stupidly comparing his successful childhood friend to Fort.

So many sensitive people here in the bush.

Herself included.

Why did Fort insist  that she come?

What a fucking disaster.

Thankfully, he takes his leave from the table with his beer .

He flees the conversation via ATV.

She imagines him riding towards a side quest.

First he must ride through an overgrown mystical forest.

"Viviali, rides away!"

Exclaims Reston.

Barin cracks a half smile.

Noticing her the stack of old comic books laying besides her still unread novel, Reston hovers behind her before taking a seat across from her.

"Are those old FemForce?"

"Yeah, found them in my old bedroom at my dad's house."

She can feel his approval.

As she quietly absorbs this feeling, she acknowledges how hungry she has been.

"That is the best."

Agreeing,

"Totally, Feminist Super Heroes."

She brakes.

Not trying to lore dump, as she is often want to do.

"Feminism, that is something I have been reading about a lot."

He comments.

"Still one of the biggest inequalities. Gender. I read bell hooks recently. Have you read?"

Some people might roll their eyes at the percevied absurdity of a  white-ish man asking a university educated Black woman who mentioned Feminism positively if she had heard of bell hooks.

Render it a "micro-aggression."

Nicey just  appreciated the attempt to connect with her, a random woman with whom he was sharing the spoils of his labor with.

"I have. How things are hurtful for men too."

Geez.

 She was spewing 'pick me' vibes.

The sun is absorbing her mind of any critical thought .

"Why are your towels so crunchy?"

Barin refers to the towels Fort had hung in the bathroom.

Reston is confused.

"Those are from us. Our dryer is not working."

Barin frowns.

"And your landlord hasn't fixed it yet?"

"No, they aren't that eager about fixing stuff."

Reston interjects.

"Cmon, Barin if you knew how much they were paying, you wouldn't complain either."

Barin's eyes widen with intrigue.

"How much do you pay Barin."

"$2500."

Making an impish face he directs the question at Nicey.

"Tell him how much you guys pay."

"$1900."

She admits.

Rotating his head to emphasize his disbelief, his eyes dramatically bulge before pausing to tilt his head.

Baris looks from Nicey to Reston.

"Right."

He should know, he has helped Fort numerous times. The rent was cheap for their city but they still struggled to pay it.

When Fort threw a hissy fit over sex. He would point out that she did not have a job and he paid for everything, insistent he deserved some form of payment.

But when she had a job, anytime she saved him financially he still was not that nice.

Technically she did not live there, however, anytime she wanted to see her father and bother Fort would accuse her of ditching him when he was broke.

Which was always.

And now so was she.

"What's it  like living so close to the highway?"

It was Barin. 

He was talking to her.

"Loud.  It's audio abuse really."

The men laugh.

A good sign.

"At this point, I am use to it. Gobsmacked by the amount of people in the building across who do not have curtains but are naked all of the time!"

Reston who is rummaging through a large tool box makes an "okay and ..." face.

"You know, you don't have to look."

Her heart drops.

His words are not an insult, just someone rejecting inane conversations.

Nonetheless, she feels defeated and stupid.

Warm tears fill to the corners of her eyes, not visible, but she knows they are there.

If she tries over explain that she is not a a prude, that she just happened to look out and see, she was not trying to see...nudity is fine, hey as long as they people realize that people can see and they are fine with it...

Over explaining has become her default speech pattern.

If she utters another word, she will cry.

Breaking the law of the land.

Inside of cottage hangs a work of stitching by the front of the entrance.

"No crybabies allowed."

Nicey says

"I know..."

The topis of naked people in condo windows is forgotten.

Viviali has returned.

"We could use the forklift to hang the lights, instead of climbing and moving the ladder."

Suggests Reston.

Viviali and Barin are suddenly distracted.

"Oh I can help, I've done set design before!"

Nicey blurts out before she can stop herself.

Reston turns to her, he bears his porcelain white at her and ever so slowly shakes his head at her.

She is not sure if he is smiling or annoyed but trying to smile, or if he just wants her to stop talking.

"Don't push it bitch,"

She reminds herself.

"He does not need help from some fucking peasant, you are lucky to be here."

She does not feel lucky.

Crushed really.

So crushed she is trying to extract meaning from a man exposing his stellar dental work.

A man who just wants to hang his  goddamn lights up.

What does she want from him, a practical stranger?

Viviali has disappeared again, Reston and Barin are back with the lights.

She buries her attention back into the pages her novel, there is nothing to see in this window.