It was late summer and I had volunteered to work on a habitat house. We had all put in a lot of hours and the project was nearing completion.
The Latin beat from my Walkman fills my ears as I move the paintbrush in rhythm, putting a final coat on the wall in front of me. My legs and arms are freckled with white paint; the white man's undershirt clings to my skin in the hot heavy air. I nearly jump out of my skin as I feel a hand on my shoulder. Turning I face Mike, the project manager. I pull the headset from my ears, noticing for the first time how still and quiet the house had become.
"I'm just on my way out, are you about finished here?" Mike asked.
I glanced at the wall.
"I really should finish up here."
Mike hesitated a moment then handed me the keys.
"Just lock up when you get done, and drop the keys in the mail slot at the office sometime tonight."
I nodded, and went back to painting, hearing the front door click shut as Mike left. Slipping my headset back over my ears I dance my way through the last half wall, pausing occasionally to wipe my forehead on the back of my arm. Finally I spread the white paint over the last section of wall and headed to the utility room to wash out my brushes.
As I set my Walkman aside I realize that it has begun to rain. Stepping out onto the back porch I feel the cool air wash over my body. The rain is pouring down in fat heavy drops. I lean against the porch rail for a bit, enjoying the coolness, admiring the view. The trees that hide the old farmhouse bend their branches in the wet breeze. Water pours down in a fountain from the rainspout.
After watching for a moment I remember that I have some shampoo in my gym bag. The house is completely secluded, and I was hot and sweaty. "Why not" I think, and go inside.
I take the shampoo and a towel from the bag and go back to the utility room. Stripping out of the T-shirt, I toss it in the corner, undo the white lacy bra and tossed it in the same direction, kicking off my sandals, wiggling out of my cut offs, and finally slipping down the white satin thong. Then picking up the shampoo, I run out the back door and down the back steps before I can change my mind.
The falling rain caresses my hot skin, just cool enough to make my nipples tighten. I step under the rainspout, letting the water pour over me, gasping at the cold. Pouring a little of the shampoo into my hands I work it through my hair, then step back into the water to rinse.