Foundations 1/6

      Terry Odell (tlco777@JUNO.COM)
      Sun, 15 Jul 2001 15:18:02 -0400

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      --------
      Foundations
      By T. L. Odell
      
      Part 1/6
      See Part 0 for Disclaimers
      
      
      Tuesday afternoon, Seacouver
      
      Duncan MacLeod walked up the back stairs to his loft above the
      dojo, reading a note from Anne Lindsey.  Seeing her
      handwriting still caused a tightening in his chest.  She sounded
      happy with her new job in Indianapolis, and Jared, her lover,
      was busy with the Earth Reborn Foundation.  The crayoned
      picture from Mary brought a smile; like a doting godparent, he
      attached it to the refrigerator with the pink "M" magnet she had
      given him before they left.
      
      He re-read Anne's last lines.  "I'm so pleased you'll be helping
      the Camp Wilderness project.  It means a lot to us.  Fixing up
      the old church camp in the mountains so inner city kids will
      have a chance to escape their gang fights and drive-bys is going
      to a big difference in so many lives."
      
      *How did I let myself be talked into this one?*  Duncan thought.
      Jared had asked him to be the site foreman and oversee the
      work, but he'd accepted the job out of his affection for Anne--
      kind of a going away present, showing he could accept her life
      with Jared.  *Maybe it'll snow and I can get out of going.*
      Although there had been a stint of bad autumn rainstorms
      recently, the weather reports projected the remainder of the fall
      would be mild, and he knew that since he'd made the
      commitment, he'd do the job no matter what.
      
      Duncan confirmed that he would arrive on Friday, his first work
      crew early Saturday morning.  He looked over his temporary
      identification papers from the Foundation as well as the copies
      of the insurance forms he'd been required to fill out.  He smiled
      as he looked at his signature promising not to sue if he suffered
      any injuries...no need to explain that chances of that were
      highly unlikely.  At least, no injury that would last very long.
      
      He verified that he should find a Kelly Carpenter at the camp
      building, and packed all the papers and forms into a canvas
      briefcase.  He checked to see if he had enough clean clothes to
      last the ten days he'd be at the project site.  The nearest town lay
      fifteen miles away over winding mountain roads, not convenient
      for clean underwear.  *Better to err on the side of caution,* he
      thought as he gathered clothes from the hamper and started a
      load of wash.
      
      ***
      
      That same afternoon, Wilderness Camp Headquarters
      
      "Damn it, Uncle Phil, you know I need to work alone.  Why
      can't you just postpone the work crews for a couple more weeks
      until I'm gone?"  Kelly Carpenter paused to listen to the voice at
      the other end explain the circumstances.  "Have to beat the
      winter weather," she repeated.  I understand, but--"  She sighed
      deeply.  "Okay, his name is Duncan MacLeod.  He's 'safe--a
      perfect gentleman.'  He'd just better stay out of my way.  But
      fax me his ID so I can be sure the right guy shows up."  She
      hung up the phone, grumbling at the turn of events.
      
      Bad weather had delayed her surveys, and now she would not
      only have to put up with the Saturday and Sunday volunteer
      crews, which she could easily avoid, but also with this
      MacLeod person.  He'd oversee the volunteers on the weekends
      and work by himself during the week.  He'd be a little harder to
      duck.  Until the work crews finished repairing and restoring the
      guest cabins, the main house provided the only place to stay.
      
      She had already commandeered the spare bedroom as her
      office, with a desk, her computer system, reference books and
      fax machine.  He'd have to stay in the old infirmary.  At least it
      lay at the opposite end of the house from her rooms.  Some
      contact would be unavoidable, but she'd be out in the field most
      of the time anyway.  She went to find sheets, blankets and some
      clean towels.  She hoped this MacLeod fellow had been told to
      bring his own food.  *Safe,* Phil had said--a perfect gentleman.
      *What is he, a priest, a monk?  I haven't met a 'perfect
      gentleman' since David*--she broke the thought off there.  No
      need to re-open that wound.
      
      Kelly entered the infirmary, a stark room designed to keep
      campers from wanting to be there unless it was absolutely
      necessary.  A small window high on one wall provided the only
      relief to the expanse of white.  She forced it open to air out the
      room.  Nobody could say she wasn't doing her part to be the
      gracious host.  She dumped the sheets down on one of the cots,
      and then thought, *What the heck.  Might as well go whole hog
      and make the bed while I'm at it.*  She unwrapped a bar of soap
      and put it on the sink, and hung a clean white towel on the bar
      next to the tiny stall shower.
      
      Working in the kitchen, she heard the fax machine ring.  *That's
      probably MacLeod's ID,* she thought as she went to retrieve the
      document.  The ID picture was dark but recognizable.  *So that's
      what Phil meant by "perfect gentleman."  Anyone this gorgeous
      has to be gay.*  She smiled to herself as some of the anxiety left
      her gut, and went back to her computer, reviewing the notes she
      had taken earlier that week.
      
      ***
      Friday afternoon
      
      Kelly heard the crunch of tires coming up the winding gravel
      driveway.  That must be Duncan MacLeod.  She started to rise,
      then changed her mind and turned her attention back to her
      monitor.  She didn't need to be waiting on the porch for him.  A
      few moments later,  a car door closed.  Someone knocked on
      the front door.  She tried to quell the butterflies in her stomach
      as she got up and headed out to the living area to greet her
      houseguest.  His ID didn't do him justice.  He was the epitome
      of "tall, dark, and handsome."
      
      "I'm looking for Kelly Carpenter.  I'm Duncan MacLeod."  He
      held a small duffel bag and wore a long tan coat.
      
      "You found her.  Come inside, Mr. MacLeod.  I'll show you
      where you can put your things."
      
      "You can call me Mac."  He smiled and extended his hand.
      
      Kelly nodded and said, "Right.  If you'll follow me," and she
      started walking down the hall to the infirmary.  She turned and
      saw MacLeod still standing in the doorway.  She raised her
      eyebrows at him, and he picked up his bag, shook his head, and
      followed.
      
      "I hope you'll be comfortable in here.  Bathroom's through
      there; there are clean towels."  She waited for him to put his bag
      and coat down and then started back toward the kitchen.  She
      heard his footsteps striding after her.
      
      "I trust they told you you'd be responsible for your own food.
      I've cleared out this cabinet and there's an empty shelf in the
      fridge, some room in the freezer, and one compartment in the
      door you can have."
      
      "I'm sure it will be fine.  I have some groceries in the car.  I'll
      just go get them."
      
      "I'll be back in my office if you need anything else."  Kelly
      walked briskly back into her office space, closed the door
      behind her, and took a calming breath.  *That wasn't so bad, was
      it?  You'll manage.  Only ten days, and this one is half over
      already.*  She picked up her notes on the native wildlife and
      began entering data into her computer.
      
      ***
      
      As Duncan put away his food, he thought about Kelly's abrupt
      behavior.  He had a job to do, but the time would pass more
      easily if they could talk to each other.  He closed the door to the
      refrigerator and took stock of his surroundings.  The building
      had a large central room with an open kitchen.  A small oak
      dining table and four chairs sat to one side of the counter.  The
      rest of the space served as a living room, with a green and
      brown plaid couch and two worn brown overstuffed chairs in
      front of a fireplace.  A coffee table sat in front of the couch,
      with a narrow sofa table bearing a lamp and a small stack of
      books behind it.  The front door opened to a wide covered porch
      with two weathered wooden chairs.  At the back of the room,
      French doors overlooked a meadow, and the reflected glint of
      sunlight indicated a body of water of some sort not too far
      away.
      
      He went out the glass doors and walked around the outside of
      the house.  On the far end, near his room, a large concrete deck
      extended.  He walked around the deck and tried a side door to
      the house.  It opened, and he found himself in a large
      commercial kitchen.  This must be where the campers' meals
      had been prepared.  Finishing his circuit, he passed by Kelly's
      room.  Green curtains obscured the windows, but he could see
      her silhouette cast by the light of her computer terminal.  She
      appeared to be hard at work.  Maybe I just caught her at a bad
      time, interrupted her at a critical point,  he thought.
      
      He walked down the drive to where he had seen the skeletal
      remains of camp cabins.  There were eight of them; most
      needed new roofs and major repairs to the exterior walls.  This
      would definitely keep work crews busy for the four full days,
      and he'd have plenty to do during the week in between.  He
      decided that he would be clear the campfire circle tomorrow; it
      wasn't too overgrown and would give him the satisfaction of
      completing something.  The plans called for a circle fifteen feet
      in diameter, ringed by logs for seating with a fire pit in the
      center.  The recent storms had felled a good number of trees that
      could be cut to shorter lengths and dragged to the site.
      
      He found the donated lumber off to the side of the cabins,
      secured under canvas tarps.  Large plastic storage containers
      held hammers, nails, hand saws, planes and other assorted tools-
      -but he found no power tools.  Given that there wasn't any
      electricity in this part of the compound, he understood why.
      What he had first envisioned as a project in the Habitat for
      Humanity vein took on the look of an Amish barn raising.
      
      Duncan stopped at his car and pulled out the briefcase with the
      Earth Reborn paperwork and went back into the house.  He
      hoped he wouldn't upsetting Kelly too badly by spreading his
      papers out on the dining table, but he found nowhere else to
      work.  His first work crew would be showing up early the next
      morning.  He had lists of names with job skills and preferences
      for each; he set about organizing tasks and making the
      assignments.
      
      He heard the bedroom door open and looked up as Kelly
      entered the room.  He studied her more closely; her baggy
      sweats made it almost impossible to tell what her body looked
      like.  He figured her age to be somewhere in her mid-thirties.
      Her close-cropped brown hair looked as if she cut it herself,
      with more concern for ease and comfort than style.  Tessa
      would have called it a "hair don't."  Kelly wore no make-up, no
      jewelry other than small gold studs in her ears.  She reached for
      some keys on the hook by the front door and went outside.  He
      heard the jeep start up and drive off.
      
      He tried to ignore her personality quirks and started fixing
      himself something to eat.  He finished his meal, washed his
      dishes, put them away, and still saw no sign of the woman.  He
      picked up his papers from the table and returned them to the
      briefcase.  Deciding that he hadn't been confined to his room,
      he brought his Grisham novel out to the living room.
      
      End of Part 1
      
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