“You close it up?”

“I did. He’ll probably find another way out, but for now he’s housebound.”

Apparently, Henry hadn’t noticed the cat at his feet, and I made no mention of him.

On a side table next to one of his Adirondack chairs, I spotted an oversize paper edition of Grissom’s Gray Water Guide.

“I see you got your book.”

“Came in Friday’s mail. I’ve been reading up on the difference between separate flow and collection plumbing.”

“What’s that about?”

“Reuse efficiency, among other things. I’ve set up separate flows, but now I’m not sure that’s the best choice. Grissom’s talking about maintenance and troubleshooting, which hadn’t occurred to me. This fellow’s not a fan of the slapdash.”

“Sounds like you need a plumber.”

“Might,” he said. “My house and yard are small, so I was hoping to minimize the cost, but there’s no point in building a system that doesn’t do the job.”

“Wouldn’t hurt to ask an expert.”

“I’ll give someone a call,” he said. He continued to stare at the water in the hole, which was, so far, stationary. He shook his head, disheartened.

“Yoo-hoo, Henry. Excuse me . . .”

Both of us turned to see a small round face rising like a moon above the wood-plank fence that separated Henry’s driveway from the house next door. Henry lifted a hand in greeting.

“Edna. Good to see you. This is Kinsey.”

“How do,” she said. “I heard voices and wondered if there was a problem.”

Her face was framed by a thin braid she wore wound around her head. Her teeth, even at a distance, looked like a replacement set. She had thin shoulders and thin arms that she rested on the fence support. Her dress was black with tiny white dots and a wide white collar edged with lace. Under her collar, a red grosgrain ribbon was tied in a perky bow. I was surprised she was tall enough to peer over the fence.

“She’s standing on a box,” Henry said, half under his breath. And to her, “I’m explaining my water conservation plans.”

“I hope you’ll share the information,” she said. “Our water bill’s been going up. I wish someone had told us how expensive it is living here. It’s been a shock.”

“Where were you before?” I asked.

“Perdido. My husband worked for the city. He took early retirement because of an injury. He receives his social security and disability checks, of course, but his pension doesn’t go as far as we thought, and now we’re feeling the pinch. Are you Henry’s daughter?”

“His tenant. When he built his new garage, he converted the old one into a rental unit.”

She blinked. “Well, that’s a wonderful idea. Our garage is sitting empty. Joseph isn’t allowed to drive, and I’m much too nervous on the road these days. With gas prices so high, it made sense to sell our car. A tenant would be a nice way to add to our income.”

“I doubt you can get the necessary permits,” Henry said. “Zoning laws have changed, especially with drought conditions getting worse. The city’s tough on new construction.”