from his neighbors and align himself with the townies, the fact was that there was no rationing in the gated community. The realities of the water shortage did not affect him, and he felt a little like a condescending nobleman assuring the poor populace that he sympathized with their plight and understood their feelings. Even now, over a week later, he still sensed some residual resentment--not on the part of Hank or Lyle or any of the core group, but from some of the casual coffee shop patrons--and while he didn't like it, he could not really blame them.
Once again, he spent the morning in front of his computer. He tried to concentrate on the unfinished novel before him, but as usual his mind wandered to other things: an old girlfriend, the movie he'd watched last night on HBO, the groceries he needed to buy on the way home today, what he'd do with the money if he sold his next novel for ten million dollars.
He usually ate lunch around noon, but nothing was happening here and he closed up shop shortly after eleven, heading over to Bert's. It hadn't rained yesterday--the first time in over a week--and the air was hot and dry. Grasshoppers jumped up from the path before him, and several bounced off his jeans.
Bert, his daughter, and a youngish, short-haired man Barry didn't recognize were the only ones in the coffee shop, but Joe arrived soon after Barry sat down and ordered his iced tea, and fifteen minutes after that, the regulars were all in place.
Lyle was the last to show up, and he had news. 'Word is,' he said, sitting in his usual seat, 'that the water restrictions are going to be lifted if we have one more week of monsoons.'
'Who told you that?'
'I was down at the office paying my bill and I overheard Shelly talking to Graham in the back.'
Hank snorted. 'About time.'
'I guess,' Joe said loudly, 'that Bert can start serving water again without charging, huh?'
'Don't hold your breath,' Bert called out from behind the counter.
Ralph Griffith glanced over at Barry. 'You know, I was heading down the ranch road yesterday when I saw this Lexus come out of the gate at Bonita Vista, all shiny and just washed. There was water still dripping off the hood.'
'Hey,' Barry said good-naturedly, 'I haven't washed my Suburban in months. You can go out back and check.'
They all laughed.
'I wasn't saying anything against you' Ralph said. 'I
was just commenting that some of those rich guys in Bonita Vista are washing their cars right before a rainstorm while I can't even fill up my little boy's plastic pool with water.'
The laughter died down.
'Face it,' Hank said. 'There are selfish pricks everywhere. And if the situation was reversed and we had water and Bonita Vista didn't, you can be damn sure that there'd be people washin ' their cars and waterin' their lawns and flauntin ' it. It's human nature.'
'But don't you think there are more of them in Bonita Vista?' Ralph pressed.
Barry jumped in. 'Probably.'
'Don't try to take it out on Barry,' Hank said.
'I'm not, I'm not. I just...' Ralph shook his head. 'It's just that those assholes make me so mad sometimes. I wanted to ram that guy's car yesterday.'
'Any of you ever been up there?' Joe asked. He grinned. 'Barry, you're excluded.'
Hank shook his head slowly. 'You know, I never have. Never cared enough to until they put in that gate. Now I can't.'
'I never been up there either,' Lyle said. 'Old Al the roofer told me every house has a view and the views are amazing, but I ain't seen it for myself.'
'Why don't you all come up and take a peek?' Barry said.
Lyle looked surprised. 'What?'
'Yeah. I'll get you through the gate. We'll head up to my house, have a few drinks. I'll show you what you're missing.' He smiled at Ralph.
'Give you a peek at the enemy camp.'
The other man reddened.
'That's a mighty nice offer, but...' Lyle trailed off.
'But what?'
'Hell. Nothing, I guess.' He glanced over at Hank. 'What do you say?'
'Let's do it.'
They left after lunch. Ralph and a couple of the younger men were working and had to get back to their jobs, but Hank and Lyle were retired, and Joe and Sonny were unemployed, and the four of them piled into Joe's battered Econoline and followed Barry out of town and up the highway.
Barry pulled up to the entrance of Bonita Vista and leaned out the window to punch in the code that would open the gate. The metal arm swung inward, and he sped through quickly. Joe was right on his tail, as he'd instructed, and the Econoline made it in just as the gate started to swing closed. 'We're in!' he heard Lyle shout out the window in mock heroic tones.
Barry led them up the narrow winding road to his house. Maureen was not home, and he was not sure if that was good or bad. She was definitely not a fan of uninvited guests, and if she'd been there when he'd traipsed over with a horde of strangers, he would have caught hell for it after they'd gone. On the other hand, he'd talked enough about his newfound buddies that she doubtlessly would have wanted to meet the gang from the coffee shop, although perhaps with a little more advance notice.
The four men got out of Joe's van and looked around.
'Al was right,' Lyle said. 'What a view.' He stood at the end of the driveway next to the edge of the house, looking back toward Corban , a few of whose buildings could be seen through the trees.
'You think that's something? Check out the view from the upper deck.'
Barry walked up to the front door, unlocked and opened it. 'Come on in.'
'Nice place you got here,' Hank allowed.
Barry led them upstairs and through the sliding glass doors onto the porch. 'You think we have a great view, you ought to check out the scenery from that place up there.' He leaned over the edge of the railing and pointed toward; Ray's house farther up the hill. 'Their living room's all glass, and you can see all the way to the desert.'
'You make enough off your writing to afford this place?' Joe said.
Barry nodded.
'I'mgonna have to start showing you more respect, boy.'
Barry laughed.
Hank turned back to face the door. 'So the association won't let you write here, huh? Your own damn house and | you have to rent an office in town to do your work.' He shook his head. 'That's craziness.'
'Reason number two hundred why I hate those bastards.'
Sonny cleared his throat. 'Didn't you say something about drinks?'
Barry chuckled. 'Coming right up.' He opened the sliding door. 'Beer okay? I got Bud and Miller Light. Or Coke if you'd rather have that.'
'Bud.'
'Bud.'
'Bud.'
'Bud.'
It was unanimous, and he walked inside to get some cans out of the refrigerator.
The men stayed for another forty-five minutes, but the visit grew increasingly awkward, and Barry was soon sorry that he'd invited them up here. He'd intended for this to be an ice breaker, a way for them to get to know each other better. Maybe, he'd thought, they'd become real friends instead of just lunchtime acquaintances. But instead their visit seemed to widen the gulf between them, and he felt like a nouveau riche snob lording his possessions over the local yokels. That was not his intention, and he did everything he could to counteract it and
