town square

-You want to see the town?

-Yeah, sure, I mean, yeah, very much.

-Ok, let's leave your bike here for now,

I’ve got a couple of cruisers.

The morning air is cool, refreshing,

the mercury is still lazing

at the bottom of the thermometer.

Along the road to town, they pass

houses of various ages and materials,

19th century farm houses,

mid 20th century modern,

early 21st century industrial chic,

a few vacant but most are inhabited.

They all have deep porches though,

whether original or recent additions,

facing the road. Clusters of trees

surround them closely.

There are gardens similar to Red’s

in raised boxes between and behind the houses,

some have shade netting. Bee hive boxes,

chicken coops. Sheds.

Some folks are sipping coffee

on their porches, some are already

working in the cool of the morning

in their gardens. Everyone

turns to look at Red and Mack

as they pass by. They all wave or touch

identical wide-brimmed straw hats.

-Hey Red, Good morning!

-Hey Sally, Bob!

The road passes under

a rusty steel arch with a sign

of cut-out sheet metal letters

that span the street:

H A R M O N Y 

A pair of Mourning doves

coo between the letters

in the trusses.

The buildings are a hodgepodge

of brick storefronts, sandstone masonry,

cinderblock, painted stucco,

weathered clapboard. A toy box

dumped out in a sand box. 

Corrugated steel roofs on some,

red tile on others. Solar panels.

A few are more than a century old,

some middle-aged, some fairly recent.

A dog-eared catalog of styles.

-This is it, welcome to Harmony.

They stop across from what

had once been a manicured

and formal town square.

Ancient Valley oaks shade

the sandy ground, some kind

of sprawling finger grass

covers the ground like Irish lace

or fretwork. Clumps of spinifex

and mounds of flowering verbena

border gravelly paths.

- Used to be turf here, but

we can’t spare the water. The

oaks need a little supplemental

water since the climate got so arid,

so we built a deep watering

gray water system.

-Yeah, looks nice like this.

Kinda wild.

-Think so? just don’t walk

on the finger grass barefoot,

it has some nasty stickers.

The tables and benches

under the trees and along

gravel paths are as eclectic

in style and materials as

the buildings surrounding

the square.

Two men are playing chess

at one of the tables.

They look up for a moment

then turn their attention

back to their game.

-That’s Cyril and Pasha,

they play every morning.

-Cool. I used to play years ago.

Mostly online.

-Were you any good? I never

thought playing online would

be that much fun, you can’t see

your opponent sweat and twitch.

-No, you’re right, it’s not the same.

On the other hand you can always

find a game. Even at three in the morning.

-That sounds kind of sad. Anyway,

here we are, in the heart of our

little village. These are mostly workshops.

That’s the cannery over there, the

distillery next to it. That’s the library

in the green building. It has a big

community room for our town meetings.

Where the sausage of decision making

gets made.

-The what? oh...right.

-Some people live over or behind the

workshops, but the work spaces

are used by anyone who needs them.

Wanna see the carpentry shop?

-Yeah, I’d like to see that. Cool.

They push their bikes across the square

to a quonset hut with continuous skylights

along the arch of the roof and open at both ends.

Work benches, and long counters

with dozens of drawers, shelves

and racks with saws and drills,

mallets and clamps, carpenters’ squares.

A treadle-powered lathe and a chain-driven

mini sawmill sit at the far end of the hut.

A fifty-ish dude with a blue bandana

tied like a headband to restrain

his graying blonde hair wipes

sawdust off his hands on a heavy

waxed canvas work apron.

- Mornin’ Red, nice to see you,

who’s your friend?

-Mornin’, Richard, this is Mack.

-Nice to meet you, Richard.

-Yeah.

-Mack is a carpenter, too.

-Well, more of a cabinet maker actually.

Nice shop you got here. Is that a

treadle lathe I see back there? Must

be two hundred years old!

-Yeah, about that I guess.

Ever used one?

-No, only seen them in pictures.

very cool!

-It does the job.

-Maybe I could try it sometime?

With his eyes fixed on Red,

Richard says to Mack,

-you stickin’ around?

-Maybe, I don’t know, just got

here last night. Had a flat tire

on my bike about ten miles out

and Red was kind enough to

give me a ride.

-That so? Red’s always had a soft

spot for strays? Right, Red?

-Yep. you’re one of ‘em. I still

have a soft spot for you, Richard.

You haven't been by the house

lately to enjoy it.

-Richard grunts, yeah, so anyway

if you’re gonna be around for a while,

I'll you the lathe or any other

...equipment.... you wanna try.

-See you later, Richard, I’m gonna

show Mack the rest of the town.

-Nice to meet you, Richard.

-Yeah.