He finds a way

Dear Sir Williard .

I have resolved to avoid descending further into the lustful desires that have plagued me by means of hard physical labor to both exhaust my muscles and clear my mind. To this effect I have turned my attention to the boathouse that came with this fine estate. I had wandered down to the structure to examine the coil of rope that hung forgotten in the shelter of the eaves. It was this rope that finally forced me, Sir Williard, to find something to do with myself during the hours I am not occupied at Dr. Miller's clinic. I had the rough rope in my palm fantasizing about binding the limbs of one (or both) of the pretty maids in my employ so I could plunder their tender flesh while they were helplessly bound and unable to defend their virtue.

I remember dropping the coil in shocked horror as the women morphed in my mind from common servants to the provocatively dressed daughters of the company's executives that I see so often about the town, or in Dr. Miller's clinic. What I found particularly troubling Sir Williard, was the surge of desire that I felt at the idea of capturing, binding and dominating these lovely young women! At that moment I knew that I must take drastic action to halt these urges before it was too late.

Therefore, this Saturday I spent much of my day doing manual labor in the boathouse that sat on the river's edge. I never found the key to the locked gates but the gardener procured by Andrews (a dark-skinned burly man with a bright smile) had little trouble sawing through the lock on the small stone building that sat right on the water's edge. I opened the doors of the boathouse with a delight that had nothing to do with sexual desire or professional ambition.

Inside were two watercraft; the first was a small punt with two oars perfect for sculling about the river, the second a twenty-five foot powerboat with a good-sized forward cabin and a open deck with cushions arranged in a comfortable 'U' all around the stern of the boat. The motorboat was powered by a steam engine a four speed transmission and dual propellers. Both these boats were up out of the water, the light punt hanging from hooks on the wall and the large powerboat dragged into the boathouse on greased skids by the contrivance of chains, pulleys and other mechanisms of mechanical advantage. I am confident that it will be easy enough to launch either one of the boats into the waiting river through the water gate, and perhaps by myself or certainly with the help of a single man hoist the heavy boat back into the shelter of the boathouse.

Instead of launching the heavy steam-cruiser or even the small boat to row around in, I continued the exploration of the sturdy little building. Along the West wall was a work area complete with a sturdy bench, overhead oil lamps; apparently this outbuilding had never been connected to the resonator in the main house. Once lit I could see an impressive collection of tools and spare parts for the motorboat in the light of the flickering yellow flames. Overhead, heavy rafters hewn from native lumber and more storage accessed by a ladder that had been bolted to the wall by the door. Almost a year's worth of dirt and grime covered every inch of the boathouse Sir Willard, and I spent the next several hours working in this dark building. I just a cotton undershirt and trousers that I had rolled up to just below my knees, and I worked with such intensity that I was perspiring freely. I confess I looked much more like one of the thousands of filthy coolies that swarm all around the water-fronts of Tei-Pai than a gentleman Doctor with a 1,500 lb yearly stipend and a household staff to attend to my every need.

At noon, Andrews showed up with a wrapped luncheon of cold chicken, rice and a salad of greens dressed with a simple vinaigrette. If he was distressed to see his employer working like a common laborer with a bucket of suds and dirty rags washing the cushions of the power-cruiser he hid his feelings well. In fact, Sir Willard, he was delighted to find the workshop well stocked with tools and spent the entire time that I was eating examining the assorted draws and cabinets much like a child opening presents on Boxing Day.

When Andrews left me after lunch, I looked around the rectangular room again pleased by the progress that I had effected. The stone walls and gently sloping wooden floor were clean and already almost completely dry. Unlike the house, the walls of the boathouse were fashioned of massive rough-hewn blocks of native stone very similar to the Edwardian Royal hotel, the walls were thick and the only windows were thin vertical slits each no wider than my arm. In many ways lit by burning flames, and constructed of native stone, the boathouse was more like an ancient fortress of old Europe than a inconsequential out-building on a small cottage on the outskirts of a city on a distant planet, light-years from old earth.

Perhaps what I found most pleasing was the condition of the newly washed watercraft. Both the small punt and the Anna-Leigh (the name of the powerboat) were gleaming, their varnished hardwood hulls still in excellent shape and for all intensive purposes sound and watertight. I still cannot make any speculation about the condition of the Anna-Leigh's steam-engine but if it has been maintained as well as the rest of the boat, your lordship, I will have an exceptional tool to continue my detailed exploration and surveying of this planet.

I discovered one final mystery, your Lordship, for I climbed the ladder through the hatch into the loft and in the storage are above I found mixed in among the old life-preservers, umbrellas and fishing gear a pile of bedding that appears to have been used fairly recently. But by whom, and how did they enter the locked building? It is a mystery that I will think on later, for I am too tired for careful analytic thought.

However, I am pleased to report, my lord, that upon returning from the boathouse later that afternoon (I replaced the lock with a new one provided by the ever surprising Andrews) I was too weary to couple in any manner with Hilda, and certainly not take her in any of the troubling ways that I had been contemplating. The exhausting work I put into the sturdy little boathouse was all I needed to tire my muscles. If each day I can repeat this process I will be far less likely to succumb to the curse of the Blush that afflicts the colonists of this planet.