FatLand: The Early Days – 3

“It’s still like camp,” Charla said. “Just a big camp.”

“That’s because the funds we have are most easily channeled into expansion of existing land,” Brenton said.

They stood on a hill overlooking the valley from which sounds of construction echoed.  “Darren worked out the ergonomics,” Angela said.  She pointed to the basket in which she had been picking apples. “Pie later,” she said.

“We tested the bungalows,”  Ronnie said, wandering up. “And the furniture. Don’t want people going through the floor or the chairs.”

“I love rugged pine,” Charla said. “And the cushions made locally by the tribes.”

“I want them to join us,” Brenton said. “If they’re willing. They’ve experienced enough discrimination in their own lives.”

“Twenty of them joined so far,” Darren said, consulting a printout. “Four hundred people signed up for the bungalows. You’ll have your work cut out for you cooking for them, Angela,” he teased.

“You’ll help me,” she said.

“Hahah.” But he sniffed the apples and inhaled. “You’re talking me into it.”

“I want cheese with it,” Evan said.

“I want whipped cream,” Ronnie said.

“I want it heated,” Charla said.

“We can do all of it,” Angela said. “Come along to the Dining Hall.”


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