“Where’s the bar?”

“Right across from the Main Lodge, in the Eagle’s Nest. Right here-” He put a big X on the spot. “Enjoy your stay with us.”

“You, too.”

We left the office and Kate inquired, “Why do you have to be such a boor?”

“Sorry.”

“No, you’re not. Are we going to call Walsh?”

“Sure. Where’s the croquet field?”

We got in the car and proceeded down the road, passing the warming hut, whatever the hell that is, then drawing abreast of the croquet field, at which point I asked, “Do you want me to run out there and call Walsh?”

“No. Charles is waiting.”

At the end of the road was a big log structure with a front porch-the Main Lodge-from which another young gentleman, dressed in a tie and jacket, was waving to us. I pulled up, and we got out.

The young fellow bounded down the steps, greeted us, and introduced himself as Charles, adding, “I believe I spoke to Mr. Corey earlier.”

“You did.”

He made a joke and said, “We’ve fed the bears.”

“Great. Can you feed us?”

I think Charles wanted to feed me to the bears, but he said, “In fact, dinner is being served now, and we’ve set two places for you.” He looked at me and said, “Jacket and tie are required for dinner.”

“I don’t have either, Charles.”

“Oh… goodness… we can loan you a jacket and tie.”

Funny that Kate’s black jeans passed muster, but I needed a tie and jacket. I said to Charles, “That won’t be necessary. Where’s the bar?”

He pointed to yet another rustic building about a hundred feet away, and said, “The Pub is right there, sir. There are a number of self-service bars on the property, and all the staff are bartenders, but if you don’t see any staff at any of the bars, please help yourself.”

“I might like this place.”

“Please follow me.”

We followed him up the porch steps and into a rotunda-shaped room, all done up in Adirondack style, which was starting to get on my nerves.

Charles said, “This is the entrance foyer to the Main Lodge, which was the home of William Avery Rockefeller.”

A nanosecond before I could get off a good one, Kate said, “This is a beautiful room.”

Charles smiled. “It’s all original.”

Clearly Charles enjoyed the finer things in life. In the middle of the room was a round table, on which sat an urn of flowers and a bottle of champagne in a silver ice bucket, with three fluted glasses. Charles popped the cork, poured, and handed us each a glass, then raised his own. “Welcome.”

I really don’t drink this stuff, but to be polite-and because I needed the alcohol-I clinked and we all drank.

Charles indicated a small room off the rotunda and said, “Here is a complimentary self-service bar which is open all day and night for your convenience.”

It was convenient right now, but Charles continued, “And here”-he motioned toward an arched opening in the rotunda-“is the Great Hall.”

I peeked into the Great Hall, which reminded me of the great hall where we’d sat with Bain Madox. Except in this Great Hall, at the far end, were two large, round dining tables in front of a big roaring fireplace. At each table were about ten ladies and gentlemen, eating and drinking, and though I couldn’t hear them, I was certain they were engaged in witty conversations that bordered on the banal.

Charles said, “You can access your room, the Mohawk-which by the way was William Avery Rockefeller’s master bedroom-through the Great Hall, but since dinner is being served, you may want to go around to your outside entrance, which I’ll show you in a moment.”

I suggested, “I think we need a drink first.”

He nodded. “Of course. If you leave me your keys, we’ll take care of your car and put your luggage in your room.”

Kate replied, “We don’t have luggage,” and, apparently concerned that Charles was thinking she and I had just met at a truck stop or something, added, “This trip was sudden, and our luggage will be following tomorrow. In the meantime, can you provide us with some sundries? Toothbrushes, a razor, and so forth?”

“Of course. I’ll have some items delivered to your room.”

Women are very practical, not to mention concerned about what total strangers think, so, to be a good, loyal husband, I said to Charles, “We’re celebrating our wedding anniversary, and we were so excited, we packed the Bentley, then took the Ford by mistake.”

Charles processed that, then offered us another champagne, which I declined for both of us. “We’ll be in the Pub,” I said. “Can you get some food over there?”

“Certainly. If there’s anything else you need, just ask anyone on staff.”

“How about a room key?”

“There are no keys.”

“How do I get in the room?”

“There are no locks.”

“How do I keep the bears out?”

“The doors have inside bolts.”

“Can a bear-?”

“John. Let’s get a drink.”

“Right.” I said to Charles, “My car has a key. Here it is. I need a wake-up call at six A.M.”

“Yes, sir. Would you like breakfast in your room, or in the Great Hall?”

Kate replied, “I’d like breakfast in the room.”

We always have this disagreement about room service: I don’t like to eat where I sleep, but women, I’ve noticed, love room service.

Charles asked us, “Would you like to schedule a massage in your room?”

I asked, “During breakfast?”

Kate said, “We’ll see what our schedule looks like tomorrow.”

“Is there anything else I can assist you with?”

Kate replied, “Not at the moment. Thank you, Charles, you’ve been very helpful.”

I asked him, “Do you have pigs-in-the-blanket?”

“Sir?”

“For the bar.”

“I’ll… ask the chef.”

“With mustard. I like the crust a little brown.”

“Yes… I’ll let him know.”

“Ciao.”

We left the rotunda of the Main Lodge, and I said to Kate, “Wasn’t I nice?”

“Not exactly.”

She opened the car and retrieved her briefcase, and we walked the thirty yards to the building called the Eagle’s Nest, in which was the place called the Pub.

The Pub was yet another rustic room, and a rather nice one at that. It was cozy, with a small fire in the fireplace, and a game and card room that held a pool table, bookshelves, and a stereo system. I noticed there was no television. The pub half of the room had a long bar, behind which were shelves of beautiful liquor bottles, and no bartender. In fact, the place was empty, the guests being at dinner. This was like dying and going to heaven.

I slid behind the bar and said to Kate, “Good evening, madam. May I offer you a cocktail?”

She went along with my silliness. “I believe I’ll have a small sherry. No-make that a double Stoli, twist of lemon, two cubes.”

“Excellent, madam.”

I set two short glasses on the bar, found the ice, the fruit, the Dewar’s, and the Stoli and, with a bottle in each hand, filled the glasses to the brim.

We touched glasses and Kate said, “To Harry.”

“Rest in peace, buddy.”

Neither of us said anything as we each decompressed from a long, eventful, and very sad day.

Finally, Kate said, “Should we call Tom?”

I checked my cell phone again, and there was actually service. “The use of cell phones is discouraged at The Point, madam.”

“What if it’s important?”

“Then he’ll call again.”

I freshened our drinks and said, “If the alcohol is free, how do they expect to make any money on us at twelve hundred dollars a night?”

She smiled. “Maybe they’re hoping you go to bed early. By the way, you should not have used your government credit card.”

I replied, “Look at it this way-if the world is coming to an end, what difference does it make?”

She thought about that but didn’t answer.

I continued, “And if we save the world, do you think the government is going to make us reimburse them for this place?”

“Yes.”

“Really?”