I was revisiting these thoughts on Sunday afternoon when Gail interrupted my maudlin scenario by slapping down her pencil lengthwise on the table. “Enough!” she declared. “We’re way ahead of schedule. I hereby declare this regatta open. Come on, Simon Legree, I’m hungry.”

“Just let me finish up these four bars, Gail.”

I’d never actually been lifted by my collar onto my feet prior to this moment. Gail hiked us down the hall and into the kitchen, where Martha was drying dishes as an excuse for monitoring my every move.

“Ray and I are going out for a while,” said Gail.

I shot Martha a look that I hoped more than conveyed “Let me assure you I have nothing to do with this.”

She said, “I’ll fix you two some lunch. Go sit out on the deck.”

“Nope,” said Gail flatly. “I’ve been cooped up in a room for days making more scratches than a crooked horse race. We’ll see you back here in a little while.”

I’m not sure what Martha would have done next if Russ hadn’t come through the front door.

“Oh, hello, Sherwood, Gail. Um, Martha, do you have a beer?” Martha moved to the fridge as Russ sat down at the dining table. “Just saw them filing into Dimond Park. That Heritage Picnic I told you about? Drawing a surprisingly big crowd. Ran into Carl Brauner, the lumber-supply fellow, and he asked us to come around.”

Martha brought him a tumbler and a bottle-capped can of beer. He nodded thanks but didn’t open it.

I asked with genuine curiosity, “So is it like a Bund rally?” I had heard about these. The Ku Klux Klan with nattier uniforms.

Russ shook his head. “No, I don’t think they allow Bund rallies anymore, since their members swear allegiance to a foreign government. This is a celebration of German culture. Carl Brauner thinks that the press is working overtime to give Germany a bad name.”

I nodded. “Yes, that annexation of Poland got blown way out of proportion.”

Russ grumbled, “Of course, I know, but he means that German Americans are getting lumped in with the Nazis.” He frowned. “When I asked him who’s behind this festival, he was pretty vague. Nobody I know from Oakland or San Francisco. Sounds like a lot of East Coast people, probably some America Firsters.” He turned to Martha. “Anyway, he wants us to stop by and show our faces. Do you mind? He’s a good man, and he came through with a ton of the lumber we used on the island with absolutely no profit for himself. I owe him the favor.” Russ looked over at me. “Carl’s a big jazz fiend. I’m sure he’d be thrilled to meet you.”

“Once he met me he’d know better,” I said.

Russ laughed. “Well, it looks to be a nice picnic. You’re welcome to join us.”