Then exchange worried looks.

It is always regrettable to have attracted the attention of adult son Mike.

We well remember the time when, having learned in grad school that costuming is one of the most fundamental and ancient modes of human self-expression, he demanded of Mr. and Mrs. U. that more attention be paid to our mode of dress. Adult son Mike can be quite the effective repetitive pain. He just never lets up. Soon, here came many pairs of slacks and various tunics and jean jackets and colorful hats, laid out before us on the floor of Listening Room, and each of us had to select those articles he or she found most appealing. Thereafter, our clothes were to be changed, by order of adult son Mike, three times a day. And there went our downtime. It seemed we were just always having our clothes changed, by Jean. When Jean complained of overwork, Mr. and Mrs. U. pulled an intelligent fast one, by mandating that adult son Mike assist Jean. Adult son Mike, being a person of low character, unfond of work, made observably uncomfortable when forced to deal with the underwear of the males among us, i.e., Craig and me, soon withdrew his protest re costuming. And things returned to normal, i.e., we would wear Sweatsuit #1 for four days, after which Jean would change us into Sweatsuit #2 and take Sweatsuit #1 away to wash it.

And thus we got our downtime back.

Ever since, not a peep re costuming from adult son Mike.

So, tonight we worry. What did he mean, “help is coming”?

From where? For what? Why would help be needed here, where we all get along nicely and, with the exception of adult son Mike, have creative, fulfilling work to do?

Next morning brings a mood of defeat. Mr. U. comes in at nine. With a tray of Danishes. He seems to want to give us each a Danish of apology, but we are too high on the wall for him to reach. So, he sets the Danishes on a folding chair for now. In truth, none of us will ever get his or her Danish. They will just sit on that folding chair all day.

Because what a day it turns out to be.

“I hope you will forgive me for the debacle that was last night,” Mr. U. says. “Today is about a new start. And making amends. Sometimes, in art, in life, one has to invest. Whether one’s wife approves or not. If and when she finds out.”

Then gulps nervously. As if for comic effect. And yet not.

How we love Mr. U.

Jed Dillon and Jean come in. Our City clothes are removed, by Jean, who then assists us in redonning Sweatsuits #I. We Stretch, are put into a new Pose (standing erect, hands hanging free) in a new Arrangement: standing on floor, very close to one another, Craig tight against the wall, then Lauren, then me. It is the closest to each other we have ever stood. Won’t this look errant? we wonder. To Company? A gloriously wide, tall Speaking Wall, and three Speakers huddled in one corner, as if Listening Room had tilted in the night and all had slid over?