The Disillusionists cont'd...

Later, out in the yard, Buck gave me some last minute instructions on how to drain the holding tanks, "Now this big one is your sewage, so you want to be carful of that one. You ever hook one of these up? No? Better let Rache handle that one... Okay then, the other's your grey water, being your dish water and shower water if your not hooked up to a full service site. This is blue juice for the lav, goes in here. Now, your fresh water fill is over here and the power cable is stored under here."

The attention to detail May's father showed was reflected in the upkeep and general maintenance of his vehicle. Mechanically, it was as close to original as it could be. Buck had said earlier that he never understood why someone would think they were smarter than the people who designed the thing. Why go mucking it up with a bunch of low-quality aftermarket crap that was being sold only to help someone else's bottom line?

The interior however was a slightly different story. It had been re-carpeted and re-upholstered to keep up with the changing times, even if those times had been a changin' way back in nineteen eighty-eight. The carpet was a nondescript brown, with brownish walls and a sort of brown/beige weave on the furniture. The cabinets were real wood, light oak and custom fit. Bathroom was just that - a room. It had a (small) tub, sink and proper commode all in alabaster-pearl finiosh with matching soap dish and toilet roll holder.

The main bedroom went all out in a blue, Scottish mood... tartan bedspread, classic velour curtains and the piece-de-whatever, a mirrored bedstead in dark walnut with twin reading lamps and drink holders. It was... beautiful.

"Dad, I already know all that stuff." said May, back from looking at her mother's vegetable garden.

"I know, but it doesn't hurt to make sure Gunther here knows too."

"Alright go ahead and bond." May went inside the camper to drop off a load of fresh potatoes, lettuce and tender manicured asparagus. "We've got to go pick everybody up."

"Everybody?" asked Gracie, "How many more of you are there?"

"Only three." May called from inside.

Buck addled up to the door, "Three more? That's good, this thing'll sleep twenty... course some of 'em'll hafta be outside."

"Give it a rest."

Buck pouted and flapped a big rubber lip at his wife. She knew to back away and he chased after her, making fish noises and sticking his butt out. "Now's our chance!" cried May and she reached down and pulled me into the coach. Buck and Gracie stopped horsing around long enough to come over and bid them farewell.

"You be good now."

"Take 'er easy. Watch that temp guage and don't rush it. Careful of your air honey."

May fired up the beast and rolled down her window, "Okay daddy, we're gonna be okay. Bye!"

"Bye Buck. Nice to meet you Gracie." I waved through the windsheild.

"Bye, have fun..."