Greg and Vic got to the refuge Thursday afternoon just as Chuck and Tim were preparing to leave. Vic shared hugs with her dad and with Tim, then retreated to the house. Chuck and Greg took a few minutes to discuss work.
"You know I won't be out tomorrow," said Chuck. "I don't think there's anything that needs immediate attention."
"Okay. I'll probably pretty much finish the narrative report tomorrow. Other than that, I may get Tim to help me set up a more or less permanent mist-netting site. I guess we'll see you next at the Lewis ranch, for 4th of July celebrations on Monday. Do we need to bring anything?"
"I don't think so, but you could ask Tim. He probably has the latest word."
Once alone, Vic and Greg decided all they really wanted to do for the next hour or so was doze on the couch. Actually, Vic was already about two-thirds there by the time Greg got to the house. He soon followed her into peaceful oblivion.
Two hours later, they woke. He yawned and stretched. "Weddings are hard work."
"They are. I was feeling exhausted, and ready to crash."
"You did."
"I notice you did, too."
"Are you hungry?"
"Not terribly. Mom sent out a bunch of food, as usual. I know there's chicken, and a carrot salad, when you're ready."
"That sounds good, but I'm not too hungry, either. You want to take a little drive? The sun is pretty much down, but we might see some wildlife before it gets really dark."
"I'm game."
The sun had set by the time they started driving, and a large shape that passed in front of them in the darkness of the "narrows" could only be tentatively identified as a horned owl. (But, thought Greg, what else could it have been?) However, a full moon was rising, and visibility was pretty good once they got out into the open water area.
Not surprising, there were ducks everywhere - on the water, but also still winging back and forth between the various pond areas. The sound level was low, but it was intense, with both the rustle of wings and the "gabbling" of hundreds of ducks all vocalizing at once. When Greg pulled the truck onto their usual parking spot, two blue herons were poking around in the water, in much the same place they had been on a previous visit. (Did they ever leave? Greg wondered.)
It had been a hot day - near 90 - and was still quite warm. They rolled down the truck windows, and listened to the sounds around them. "I'm glad we don't have a lot of mosquitoes, so we can have the windows down and enjoy the fresh air," said Vic. "One would think that, with this much water around, there would be clouds of them."
"We have our share earlier in the year, especially out in the shallower marshy areas. The way the ponds were constructed, with steep sides and fairly deep water, doesn't provide a lot of mosquito habitat near the roads. That's good for us, enjoying a warm evening out."
"Very good planning on the part of the C. C. C. They must have known we were coming."
"Probably. If not us in particular, lovers in general."
They held hands, and sat in silence for a while.
"This is a pretty nice place we live at," she said, eventually.
"I agree, except for the god-awful road getting here."
"Yes, but that god-awful road keeps us from being interrupted by unexpected visitors at unwelcome times."
He lifted her hand, and kissed it. "There is that, all right. Still, in my less amorous, less besotted moments, I sometimes wish we could share this with other people. It really is set up well for bird watching and general nature loving, if people could just be enticed to visit."
She kissed his hand, in turn. "Yes, I think I see what you mean."
He went quiet for a minute. "I think I'm looking forward to the new refuge, in the sense that a lot of people know about it, and regularly visit to enjoy the wildlife and the out-of-doors. And by the time we get there together, we'll be an old married couple who won't need the privacy as much."
"Really? At Thanksgiving break, after we'd only seen each other occasionally during the previous two months, what did you think I was planning for us during the times when we weren't eating turkey and stuffing with the in-laws?"
He presented her with an expansive smile. "Well, maybe they'll stay home for the holiday."
"Or maybe Daddy will take care of them."
Just then, Vic sensed motion near them, and glanced past Greg to the roadway. "Oh look, Greg," she whispered. Only a few yards away, two coyotes were walking past them, either not knowing or not caring that the truck was occupied. The moonlight was almost as bright as day, and every detail of the two animals was clear. Greg thought they were at little gaunt - perhaps the very dry summer made food-finding difficult - but they looked healthy. The two humans almost held their breath, but it wasn't necessary. The coyotes walked on, unalarmed, and finally turned off the road onto one of the side dikes, and out of sight.
Vic squeezed as close to Greg as she could get, he put his arm around her, and they relaxed in the moonlight. At one point, over the constant gabbling of hundreds of ducks settling down for the night, Greg thought he heard the bark of a fox. Vic hadn't heard it, and there was no repeat. Finally, both of them drifted off to sleep. When they woke, with the moon still lighting up the landscape around them, they drove home. Several jack rabbits scurried out of their way, but nothing bigger, or more exciting. They ate a light dinner of carrot-raisin salad and chicken, sat and reviewed the evening's adventures, then went to bed.
***
"I had a dream about coyotes," Vic said, next morning.
"Not a pack of ravening wolves?"
"No, coyotes, like we saw last night. They were very nice, and stopped and had a pleasant chat with us about their adventures."
"What kind of adventures do coyotes have?"
"Greg, just living is an adventure for a coyote."
"Probably much like I feel, living with you."
She cuddled close to him. "Are you up for more adventures, now?"
"I am but, unfortunately, this is a work day, and Uncle Sam does not pay me to lallygag."
"Lallygag?"
"Fool around in bed with my lovely wife."
"Maybe you should take a day for R and R."
"I think we just did that, but 'rest and recreation' turned into C, F and A."
"What is C, F, and A?"
"Wedding cakes, flowers, and announcements." He moved her aside enough to get out of bed. "No, I think we'll have to lallygag on our own time, this weekend."
"That sounds nice. I'll look forward to it. What are you going to work on, today?"
"Mostly the narrative report, I think. What are you going to do?"
"I think I'll start looking over the furniture situation, so we can figure out what to do when Daddy steals it all away. If you need any help report typing, or anything, I'm available."
Tim arrived as they were finishing breakfast, and Greg went out to talk to him. He discussed setting up a permanent mist-netting site.
"I'll probably be in the office all day. When you want to take a break from whatever you're doing, maybe we can go down in the woods and set the poles. One of the sites that we cleared out earlier would be good, I think."
"Are you going to be banding regularly?"
"No, I don't think I'll band, unless we catch something really interesting. I don't expect anything too interesting this time of year. It just seems like running a net occasionally will be a good way to monitor general bird activity."
"Yeah, I'll be over later. I've got a little stuff to do here, first."
"Why don't you have lunch with Vic and me, and then we can set up the net, afterward?"
Greg went back to the office and worked on the narrative report until Tim showed up, then they joined Vic in the manager's house. She got out some of Alice's contributions, and they settled down at the kitchen table. Earlier that week, Greg had told Tim a little about the California trip. Now, Vic gave him the whole travelogue.
"Sounds like you had a good time. I haven't been much of a traveler. I went to San Francisco once, and I've been to Portland and Seattle a couple times. It's a lot different on that side of the mountains. I liked it okay, and could probably get used to it, but I've always lived in the wide open spaces.
"Rae's older brother has a little farm over near Ontario, Oregon, and we went over for a visit a couple of weekends ago. Nice spot. Pretty much like here, although he has some good irrigated land. No sales tax in Oregon, but property tax and state income tax are both pretty steep, so it probably evens out."
"Rae has other brothers, doesn't she?" Vic asked.
"Yeah, Les and Tad - Thomas - about your age, Greg. Both in the Army, one draftee and one volunteer."
"Viet Nam?" Greg asked.
"Not yet, but probably soon. Anyway, Rae is the only one at home with their parents, now. Her mom and dad are younger than mine, so they still get around okay, but Rae does have a lot to do. I go over and help out whenever I can."
"Speaking of the Army, what do you hear from Rusty?"
"Rusty? Maybe I told you - but maybe I just told Chuck, while you were away, He's been transferred from San Diego to some base in the South. I think that's where they eventually deploy from, so he could be going over, soon."
"Does that worry you?" Vic asked.
"About Rusty? No, he made his choice - kind of on the spur of the moment, but I think he's still okay with whatever happens, next. I am, too, but I am concerned about my mom and dad - especially Mom - if anything was to happen to him. Mom is still mourning Dave. Dad is still the immigrant-patriot, willing to give whatever is required to the country that took him in. He's sincere about that, but that doesn't mean he wouldn't be crushed if he lost another son."
Greg changed the subject. "I guess Chuck has kept you up to date on all the goings-on for the next couple of months?"
"I think so. He and Alice move in early August, you're here until Thanksgiving, then it's me until you show up again in March."
"Yeah, that's pretty much the plan. Vic and Mandy will be around here until they go off to school in mid-September, then just you and me. I don't know what you want to do with your usual time off beginning in September. You can stay on the payroll as much as you want. Like last year, I'll probably plan to band ducks until hunting season opens in early October, then shut that down. If you want to be around until then, part-time or full time, that would be great, but if you have other commitments or need to make more money..."
"Thanks. I don't know what I'll want to do, yet."
After lunch, all three of them took the mist net down into the woods, and set the end poles more or less permanently at one of the locations that had been previously cleared. As he planned to be in the office all afternoon, Greg decided to put the net in place, and see what he caught over a few hours.
He worked on the narrative all afternoon, with Vic typing each page as he had them prepared. Every hour or so, they went down to check the net. They didn't catch a lot, and nothing unusual, but there was a steady stream of "regulars:" western tanagers, lazuli buntings, black-headed grosbeaks, Bullock's orioles, yellow warblers, and house finches. Greg didn't photograph any of the individuals, but he did take some pictures of Vic removing birds from the net. At five, they furled the net for the night, closed up the office, and went home.
Just before dark, they took another drive out on the refuge. It was another warm, still evening, but a few more clouds to the west provided them with a brief, colorful sunset. Greg drove beyond their usual parking spot, and managed a quick glimpse of a badger, scurrying across the road. It was Vic's first. Best sightings on the return trip to their parking spot were a slow-moving porcupine crossing the road, and a jack rabbit. They sat in the moonlight with the truck windows rolled down, and several hundred restless ducks milling around in the shadowy water near them. Somewhere in the distance, coyotes regaled them with a brief chorus of barking and yipping, and then they were on their way home. Another excellent ending to another excellent day.
***
Vic was just waking up Saturday morning when Greg, already dressed, leaned over the bed and kissed her on the forehead. "I'll be back shortly." She lay a few minutes after he left, but eventually rose, got dressed, and prepared for the day. She assumed he'd gone to the woods to set up the mist-net, and was about to join him when he reappeared. He took her hand.
"Come with me." She went with him, but was surprised when they didn't go into the forest, but walked over to his house. When he opened the door, the aroma of fresh-brewed coffee greeted them.
"You know I don't like coffee but, oh my, I love the air around it."
"I know. It's hard to beat." He led her to the kitchen table, and sat her down. "I don't have the ingredients for a fancy, exotic omelet, but I thought we could pretend that a ham and cheese scramble was one."
"That sounds fine to me. What is all this about? Why are we over here?"
"Just a little nostalgia. Be patient."
The scramble, with toast and orange juice, left nothing to complain about. After, he warmed his coffee and heated water for her tea, then led her out on the porch.
"Do you remember these steps?" he asked.
"I remember them very well. This is where I got to know the love of my life."
"That's interesting. The very same thing happened with me, at this very same spot."
"So, why are we here, now?"
"Because it is Saturday, and the steps told me that they are feeling very neglected, and they would like us to sit down and recreate those former experiences."
"I'm willing." She sat, and he sat next to her. "It's nice," she said, after a moment.
"It is."
She gave a little laugh. "What?" he asked.
"Oh, I was just thinking that if you wanted to kiss me right now, I'm sure that there's no one over at the other house who is going to be scandalized or worried about it."
"Then, it seems like we should take advantage of the situation."
"I agree." They did take advantage of the situation for several minutes. Both seemed to enjoy it.
"So," she said, "What else did you want to do while we are here?"
"I wanted to talk about the draft a bit. Other than that, I don't know. Besides thinking about moving, and getting ready for our wedding, we haven't had a whole lot else going on, have we?"
"I guess not. I don't know when was the last time I read a book. Except for our honeymoon trip - which, of course, was also wedding-related - wedding plans have been pretty much all consuming."
"Yeah, I find myself wondering if it's all worth it, but then I remember that, once we're married, we can make love any time we want to."
She giggled. "Yep, that will be something, won't it? Actually, your mother and I had some good talks about marriage."
"Really? I didn't know that."
"Yes, really. Her counsel made it clear to me that you don't have to be married to make love..."
"Always good to know."
"Yes, but more than that, she pointed out some of the legal protections that marriage offered - like with wills and estate planning, protection of a spouse and children after death or divorce..."
"Nothing we will have to worry about."
"Not the divorce part, but the other... Anyway, here's one I didn't think about. If we'd lived together as 'husband and wife' for twenty years, but were not legally married, a hospital could keep me from visiting you on your death bed because I wouldn't be actual 'family.'"
"Is that really true?"
"I think it is, at least in most states. There may be some places where a 'common law' marriage is recognized, but probably one shouldn't count on it."
"Interesting. That is something I never thought about. So, what you learned from my mom is that marriage isn't necessary for sex, but it is for spousal protection."
"Well, that's somewhat of a simplification of our discussion, but yes, that's it.
"So, back to the draft. What did you want to talk about?'
"We talked a little bit the other night about the Congressional hearings going on right now. It sounds like some on the committee really want to make significant changes in the draft. I don't have much confidence that they will, but a couple of the suggestions could affect us - maybe in a good way, maybe bad. One is reducing the draft eligibility age from 26 to 24. I guess Selective Service is really opposed to that but, if it happened, it could mean we were out of the draft pool in just a year."
"That would be lovely."
"It would. The down side might be that there was a rush to select us older guys before they lose us. In either case, we wouldn't be in limbo, anymore. As I say, I doubt that this will happen.
"The other thing is that some congressmen are pushing to do away with the local draft boards, and have some kind of a national drawing. I'm not sure how it would work - I don't think anybody has worked out the details - but the general idea is that all the names from all across the country would be included on one national list. Everybody would get a number, maybe based on birthdates. When they were ready for another draft, they'd 'spin the wheel,' so to speak, to identify who was selected.
"I think this could happen, although maybe not in time to affect us, at all. Presumably, we'll be clear after 1969, because I'll be 26. If it did happen, it would probably be better for us than the present way, because my name would be one in several million, rather than one in a couple of thousand. However, a lot could depend on how they chose to pick the numbers. If they started with the youngest eligibles, we could probably consider ourselves home free. However, if they assigned the lowest numbers to the oldest 'lAs,' then we'd be right in the thick of things. But, as I said, even if it happens, it probably won't be in time to affect us, one way or the other.
"No, what I'm really interested in are the same things we were when we researched your letter - the constitutionality of the draft, and the fairness of the process. Even if we're just talking to ourselves - which we probably will be - I feel the need to put it all down in writing, again. I still think that conscription and 'involuntary servitude' should be big issues to consider. Then, all the questions about the ages to be drafted, keeping people in limbo for almost ten years of our lives, etc., etc. I just want to give it another shot."
"Okay. What can I do?"
"Well, one thing I learned from one of the news reports is that the Supreme Court did rule on the draft. It was a long time ago - maybe even in relation to World War One - and, if the information I saw is correct, they more or less rubber-stamped the legality of the draft, rather than really analyzing it. I didn't have a very good source, but they seemed to say that, since the Constitution gave Congress the right to declare war, it automatically gave the military the right to do whatever they needed to win the war. Ignoring the fact that we haven't declared war, that's just a ridiculous statement. 'Anything we need to do' would give the Army the go-ahead to use methods that we would consider 'war crimes,' if any other nation used them.
"I guess I need to see the Supreme Court decision."
"That would probably be easy to find, if I was at college. Even so, I think our local librarian should be able to figure out where to look for it. Why don't I go to the library when I'm in town?"
"That would be excellent, and probably the thing I need first.
"There is one other related thing that needs doing. I need to change my Selective Service registration to a local draft board."
She was very silent for a few moments. "But isn't the reason you haven't changed is because you're safer from the draft in the city than you would be in a smaller town?"
"Maybe not safer but, yes, the odds of my name coming up are more in our favor in the big city. But I don't think I've been considering all the issues. Well, I've been ignoring one issue - a legal one - that's going to be harder to ignore in the future. The law says pretty clearly that I'm supposed to change my address and registration information with Selective Service whenever I move or change my basic status. I didn't change it when I was in school, because my home was clearly still in Oakland. I didn't change it when I came here, thinking that I could still argue that all my possessions were still in Oakland, and that I really didn't have a permanent address here, yet. Now that I have a wife, and what is clearly a permanent, full time job, that changes the picture considerably. Sometime in the future, I might think it was worth it to go to jail for resisting the draft, but not for a mere violation of procedure."
"Okay, I can see that. What else haven't you understood?"
"Well, it's dawned on me that I may have been placing too much emphasis on my chances of being selected, and not thinking about my options if my name was called. What I mean is that I'm right about being less likely to be selected in the bigger office because the number of potential draftees is large, and because there are probably more men volunteering - which means the actual draft is not as big.
"That's all positive, but then what happens if my name does come up? In the big city, that's all I am - just a name. I have the right to meet with my draft board and try to make a case for them not choosing me, but what do I have to offer? They don't know me. I'm the right age. I've finished school, and - since LBJ decided that wives weren't important dependents unless they also have babies - there's nothing I can really say to support my cause.
"Well, now, consider smaller draft boards. Clearly, my name is more likely to come up than would be the case in Oakland. But, from the studying that we did before you wrote your letter, we know that draft boards kind of make their own rules, and in a smaller, more local area that might work to our advantage. Just like in the bigger draft pool, if my name is drawn, I can go talk to the draft board in person to make my case. If the draft board is in, say, Idaho Falls, the members may not know me personally, but they'll know my situation a lot better than the men in Oakland would. I can explain that I am clearly 'serving my country' already, by protecting our natural resources. They may not buy that by itself, but it has more of a chance meaning something in Idaho Falls than it would in Oakland. Then, I can point out - not so much here, but at the Idaho Falls refuge - that I am providing much needed recreation - hunting and wildlife watching - for a war-weary population, and I am also helping the national economy and the local farmers by providing refuge space for them to grow crops on. The fact that you are in school, and are especially in need of my local support, might enter into my plea. Finally - and I actually just thought of this one - I can point out that I am already doing the exact same work that - if I was a conscientious objector - they would assign me to as an alternative to military service.
"Well, I'm just kind of rambling now but, anyway, it does seem like we will have a better chance fighting the draft locally than if I stay illegal in Oakland."
"I think you're right, but it is worrying, isn't it? We can't really do anything until something we don't want to happen, happens."
"That's about right.
"So, what else do we need to talk about?"
"I don't think anything pressing. I've started to look at the furniture and household goods situation. Mom and Daddy can leave us enough plates and pots and pans to get by with, but they'll take all the furniture, except my bed and dresser - oh, and maybe Mandy's, because she'll still be here. If we're not going to spend all of our time in bed, we'll need to consider some chairs and tables."
"Yes, I've thought a little about that. There won't be anybody over here in my house, so we can take the armchair, the kitchen table and chairs, and the refrigerator over to the big house. It'll still be pretty bare, but we'll have some of the essentials."
"Those are good ideas. It would be nice to have a sofa of some kind. Also, a washer and dryer - well, at least a washing machine. We can hang things to dry, if necessary, but it will be a real pain to have to run to town to do an occasional wash load.
"Then, there's the question of the house at Idaho Falls. It's probably unfurnished, or minimally furnished. I won't be there much - just the school holidays - so we probably don't want to move my bed and dresser back and forth. You'll need stuff, anyway, so we need to give some thought as to how to stock two households."
"Right. I hadn't got that far yet, but I will need all the same things we need here."
Vic started to get up. "So, are we done here?" He held her arm.
"Not quite. I've been thinking about your marriage talk with my mother. Did she say anything else that I should know about."
Vic seemed to give that some thought. "No, I don't think so. Oh, there was her little talk about how to keep a husband happy and interested. I thought that was helpful."
"Happy and interested? What was that about?"
"Well, part of it is that you have to keep things new and surprising. But, of course, one of the ways you do that is to not let your spouse know what to expect from you, so I need to keep that secret. I will say that she got pretty explicit."
"No, she didn't."
"What do you mean - no, she didn't?"
"Well... Well, she's my mom!
"How do you think she got to be your mom?"
"What?"
"Why do you think your mom and dad are still sharing a double sleeping bag?"
He just stared at her. She laughed. "Before we leave, what would you think about trying one more clandestine kiss?"
"Clandestine?"
"Well, sneaking it in so the people over on the other porch won't notice."
"There are no people on the other porch."
"Your imagination needs a little work, today. I can usually depend on a better response." She got up, patted his head, and took her empty tea mug in the house.
***
They tidied up Greg's house, and went back over to the manager's residence. As they planned to be around all afternoon, Greg went down in the woods to set up the mist-net. When he returned, he found Vic stretched out on the couch, reading. He lifted her legs enough to allow himself to slide in beside her, then let her feet rest in his lap.
"What are you reading, Vic?"
She held up the book. "Strong Poison. Do you know that Lord Peter isn't any farther along trying to keep Harriet from going to the gallows than he was last fall? I thought British justice was supposed to move quickly."
"It does, usually. To what do you attribute this delay?"
"Well, I'm wondering if it might have something to do with the fact that this book has been lying unopened beside my bed since Thanksgiving." She gave a little laugh. "Can you believe I haven't opened a book of fiction in seven months? What have I been doing?"
"You said it this morning. It's been a busy time. There were the holidays, then the research, writing and sending of the letter to the editor. Throw in a little uncertainty and confusion about our future work, a trip to California, getting your wedding gown, ear piercing, making a whole lot of wedding arrangements - well, all of that, not to mention considerable evening activity in your bed, at times when you might have otherwise been relaxing and reading."
"That does sound pretty busy. I'm liking the story - Lord Peter and Harriet are great - but I had to go back to the start, and skim through the first few chapters to remember what had been happening. I'm caught up, now."
Greg rubbed her feet a bit, and smiled to himself. "What are you thinking about, Gregory?"
He turned the smile toward her. "Nothing, really. I'm just feeling quite content. I shall go down and check the mist-net in a few minutes. Do you want to come?"
"No, I think I'll try to get Lord Peter a little farther along."
There were a few birds in the net when he got to it. Nothing unusual, but there was a robin and also a Traill's flycatcher, species he hadn't previously caught. He decided to leave the net up one more hour.
He went by his house to get the book he had been reading - almost as intermittently as Vic had been. He found her where he had left her on the couch, but the book lay open on her chest, and she was sleeping peacefully. He took his former place with her feet in his lap, read a few minutes, but then joined her in a nap.
When he woke a half-hour later, Vic was awake and watching him. "So, what book are you not reading?" she asked.
"A Nevil Shute, 'The Far Country' - a nice Australian romance. I've read it several times - this time, I started it a month or so ago but, like you and Lord Peter, I seem to have been neglecting it." He moved her legs aside, and got up off the couch. "Right now, I need to check the net one more time, and then close it up for the day." He leaned over and kissed her. "Try to stay awake. I think Peter and Harriet really need your help about now."
As he was walking down into the woods, he startled a deer, which quickly ran off. He thought about Matt's story of the doe walking into the mist-net, but the current net was intact, with no sign of deer collision. There were no birds to remove, so he quickly furled the net, and returned to the house. Vic declared that she had advanced her story several pages during Greg's absence. He congratulated her on her diligence.
Saturday evening was warm and pleasant, and their drive was nice, but without any special sightings or happenings. Sunday was a repeat of Saturday, with some mist-netting (nothing unique), some eating, some reading, and some napping. The evening drive was highlighted by a long, excellent view of a large bobcat - not just shining yellow eyes in the dark, this time. Vic would have called her mother that night to tell her about it, but she and Greg ended up spending quite a long time at their usual parking area before going home.
"Is this like a drive-in movie, without the movie?" Vic asked, at one point.
"Pretty much," Greg replied.
They spent a leisurely Independence Day morning, then around noon drove over to the Lewis ranch for a neighborhood barbeque. By now, Greg knew most of the locals, and he and Vic readily joined in the conversations. Most of the talk was about the weather - the general drought, but especially the recent frost. Reports were still trickling in, with both good news and bad news. It now appeared that the bean crop - originally thought to be severely damaged throughout the area - was only seriously hurt in a few localities. On the other hand, the potato crop was even harder hit than the earlier pessimistic reports suggested. The potatoes on about 40,000 acres of the 60,000 acres in the Minidoka-Cassia area were now expected to yield 20 to 50 percent less than usual. The area had already been stressed by the cold, dry spring, and below average stands and a large number of weak plants were evident even before the frost. About 1,000 acres of potatoes had already been approved for abandonment. Reports from Pocatello were similar to those from the Magic Valley.
They visited with Tim and Rae, and were with them when Mandy, Chuck, and Alice appeared a little later. (Vic was finally able to tell her mother about the bobcat.) Food was plentiful, and the barbecue was excellent, as usual. Because the Magic Valley was beginning the eighth consecutive month of below normal precipitation, there was no fireworks display. All seemed to have a good time, nevertheless. As people began to leave, Greg and Chuck contributed what they could to the cost of the festivities. Then, Greg and Vic followed her family into town for the night.
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