“Are we it? The whole group?" Sam Claypool asked. He'd been eating his dinner in a picky, preoccupied manner, as if his mind were miles away.

“No," Benson said. "A Mr. and Mrs. Flowers are coming. They called and said they'd had some car trouble, but should be here shortly. And the day after tomorrow the whole county's been invited to participate in classes if they want. That'll be the big day, with instructors and demonstrations. I've already got reservations for fifty for lunch, and there will be others — the ones who don't believe in reservations," he added with a broad smile.

“Liz Flowers?" John Claypool asked. He'd shoveled down everything on his plate and was taking seconds. "Sold her a car once. Lady drives a hard bargain. Hope it's not that car that's broken down."

“Liz is the president of the school board," Bob Rycraft explained to Benson. "I gotta warn you, she's expressed some doubts about this plan.”

Benson nodded. "I thought so. She was pretty cool on the phone.”

Jane realized for the first time that this was more than a vacation. She, like the rest of them, had a job to do. So far, she'd just accepted that a summer-school session here was a good idea. "What kind of doubts?" she asked Bob.

“Oh, real practical things. Liability insurance, transportation costs, the availability of medical help because of the isolation," Bob said. "Important to consider, of course, but I'm sure it can all be worked out. The important thing is to get the kids out of their easy, comfortable suburban life for a while. Away from drugs, rap music, television, video games — all of that. I really believe you can do any child a world of good by bringing them back to nature — the real world — if only for a week or two. Gives them a sense of their own history, their place in the whole scheme—" He broke off and grinned. "Sorry. I'm lecturing."