Parker

As a graduate student, I spent my hot Texas summers as a nanny. For nearly 11 hours a day, 5 days a week, I entertained, disciplined and fed two small girls. As much as possible, we spent time in the backyard. There was no yard, really, just a patio and a small pool landscaped with shady crepe myrtle trees. The scene was encircled by a 6-foot white privacy fence. Suburban Dallas is stitched together with never-ending privacy fences.

The girls were 4 and 8 years old, and relished darting between house, patio and pool totally naked, shouting and splashing and having a great time, as children will do. I kept my bathing suit on, and usually preferred dry land with my Michener novel. I enjoyed time with them in the water as well, but the excessive splashing was often a deterrent.

One day, their dad showed up unannounced around 11:30. "Get dressed, girls, I am taking you to lunch!" The girls squealed with delight and ran into the house for their clothes. I spoke to him. "Hey Jim, I am thinking of doing some skinny dipping myself. Do you mind calling when you head home so I can dress?"  He said, "Why don't I just keep them out until at least 1:00. Does that give you enough alone time?" Yes! Yes indeed!

When he backed down the drive with the girls, I locked the house. I took the cordless phone poolside, and locked both gates of the privacy fence. I positioned the chaise lounge in a place that would not be visible if someone were to peek over the gates. My plan was to swim for half the time, and sunbathe until 1:00. What a great plan!

I love to skinny dip. I can count on one hand how many times I have had the opportunity to do this, and it is SUCH a treat. Hallelujah for privacy fences! I stripped out of my bathing suit and dove into the water. It felt so good, engulfing me in the quiet of the backyard, under the blooming crepe myrtle trees and glorious blue sky. I bobbed and drifted from one end of the pool to the other, feeling buoyant and calm. With my eye on the time, I emerged from the water to lie naked under the sun.

The chaise was warm and my wet body began to dry quickly. I closed my eyes and the heat was therapeutic. I could feel the rays on my belly and ribs, my white skin saying, "Is that SUNSHINE? we never see the SUN!" As I relaxed in total silence, lightly dozing, the sun ducked behind a cloud. I waited a brief minute for the sun to reappear, and then I remembered there were no clouds that day. The sky had been perfectly blue. I opened my eyes, blinded by brightness. Still flat on my back, buck naked, I cupped my right hand into a visor and saw with disbelieving eyes what was blocking my rays.

There was a man on the roof of the house. As I squinted up at him, blinking with confusion from under my hand-visor, he said, "Mrs. Scott?"

WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING!!??

"No," was all I could muster. I sat up and wondered where on God's green earth I left my clothes.

He spoke again. "Hi, my name is Parker. I'm here to spray the trees."

WHERE IS MY GODFORSAKEN TOWEL?

"I knocked at the front door, and the gate is locked, so I thought I would spray them from the roof."

BECAUSE THAT IS LOGICAL.

I fumbled with knotting the towel around me. I think I said something like, "Mrs. Scott never mentioned a tree service. Go ahead."

I stumbled into the house, grabbing the cordless on my way, and locked myself in the bathroom hoping to regain some dignity. It didn't work. I will never regain that dignity, but I did find my clothes there. I dialed my friend Lisa, who could not withhold her delight in my predicament as I told her the story from my hiding place on the floor beside the toilet.

Just before 1:00, fully dressed, I meekly exited the bathroom. I tiptoed through the kitchen. I peeked out to the patio. Nobody there. I crossed to the front of the house, and from the window, did not spy a service truck parked on the street. Parker was gone. I unlocked the house, opened the gates, and settled into the chaise with Michener, adrenaline still racing through me. When Jim and the girls returned, the world seemed in its place. The only clue to my lunch hour was my bathing suit, still in a ball on the cement by the diving board.