The civil servants were out on strike. This time all of the island unions supported the strikers. Many of the shops in Roseau and the whole of government had shut down. Tourism suffers with any type of negative news, but this was worse. This time the airport closed. Our occupancy at the hotel dwindled immediately to zero.
We did not cut our staff; that would not have been fair. We let all that lived in the village stay home and at least saved the cost of feeding them. Those remaining drew straws for the sole duty obligation at the hotel to handle any unexpected local traffic.
Island House was the end of the road from town. From the Tree House, our residence on its high perch above the hotel, we could hear any motor vehicle from the first turn into the village, half a mile down the road. Few vehicles came to visit in the village and no one there owned one. The truck that provided a sort of bus service on market day was easy to identify by sound; the rest were usually taxis.
As nature would have it, the weather was glorious. There was no school but the older boys were up in prep school. Margie had settled in with a book for some lazy, luxurious reading upstairs.
Our housekeeper had asked to “make a message” in town and would not be back until the afternoon.
Our youngest was bored and wanted me to entertain him, but I was getting out the lawn mower because the large expanse of our upper lawn was due.
“Dad, can’t we go down to the river?”
“Come, on, Tooks, I have to mow the lawn.”
“Would Mommie go?”
“No, no, no. She is reading. Don’t you dare disturb her.”
“Ah, Dad, let’s do something.”
“Wait a minute, Tooks, I just remembered. And it’s almost ten o’clock. That’s when it begins.”
“What begins?”
“Why, Naked Day, of course. Didn’t you know?”
“Ah, Dad!”
“No, it really is. And, look, it’s ten o’clock. We better get our clothes off.”
“Ah, Dad, you’re just fooling me.”
“Better hurry, Tooks.”
“Dad! You’re naked. What if somebody comes?”
“Can’t help it. It’s Naked Day, and that’s all there is to it.”
“Dad! Put your clothes on, Dad.”
“Better get them off, Tooks.”
“Dad, you can’t mow the lawn naked.”
“Of course I can. Watch me.”
“I’m going to tell Mommie.”
“If she doesn’t remember that its Naked Day then you better remind her.”
“You’re not all the way naked, Dad. You have on your Wellingtons.”
“Boots don’t count.”
“They’ll see you at the hotel.”
“They can’t see me from there.”
“I’m going to tell Mommie, I’m going now. I’m really going to tell her.”
“Bye, Tooks.”
Margie and Tooks came to the screened north side of the master bedroom and looked down at the wide expanse of gardens and lawn. There, halfway down the roll of the lawn, I was pushing the power mower in my Wellingtons and otherwise in the all-together.
I saw Margie so I shut off the mower and left it to come up near her.
“My goodness, ” she marveled, beginning to laugh out loud. She turned to our child and said, “Well, Tooks, if it’s Naked Day, why haven’t you taken off your clothes?”
“It really is, Mommie?”
“Must be, if Daddy says so.”
Yeah, Tooks,” I added.
“Okay, then,” he said.
“That a boy, Tooks. Now go down and show Daddy you’re all set for celebrating Naked Day.”
“Mommie, where’s my boots?”
“You don’t need boots, Tooks,” I said.
“You outgrew them. You don’t have any now,” his mother reminded him.
“But you have to have boots on, on Naked Day.”
“Oh, I see. Well then, how about a pair of your brother’s? They’re too big for you, but I guess you would be legal then.”
“Okay, thanks, Mom. These will be all right.”
“Be careful you don’t fall. They’re awfully big for you.”
“You have to have them on Naked Day, Mom. You better get out your Wellingtons. I’m going down and help Daddy.”
“Yeah, Mom,” I laughed.
“You two are quite a picture, Daddy,” Margie said, “but, don’t you think that’s a little dangerous, running that mower without some sort of something to protect special places?”
“See, Mommie,” Tooks cut in, “Daddy has his clothes all off. You have to go back and take off your clothes.”
“Yeah, Mommie. It’s Naked Day. Didn’t Tooks tell you?”
“Sure he did. I know it’s Naked Day, but it’s the one for men, and women can’t do it. Their day comes in 1998.”
“Come on, Dad. Start the mower again. Mommie can’t do it today it’s only for us men. I’ll help you push.”
“I think I’ll save the mowing for another time, Tooks. Your mother has a valid point on the dangers.”