Jonathan had traveled light, leaving most of his possessions in storage, besides what he could carry in his van. He did not have much to carry. As it was, he followed the mayor out of the sheriff's office and started across the street. It was not a busy street, but he did see a few recreational vehicles. He could not imagine how they had gotten here, seeing as a lot of the roads had potholes. "It was O.K." The fact was that it had been a bit of a nightmare drive, but he did not feel like saying so. He did ask though, "Are there always so many potholes?"

As they neared the clinic, he could see that it was a two story structure, about the size of a house. It looked to have been build in Victorian times, and had a broad porch around it, with benches. He could already see how it would be hard to modernize such an old structure. He wondered why they did not simply start over with a new clinic, but hesitated to ask. There was an electrician's truck on the corner, and a man was on the slopped roof, replacing tiles. Along side two outside walls were scaffolding built up, and a fresh coat of paint was half-way applied in white with red accents. The whole thing looked very much like a work in progress to him, which was not welcomed news. He supposed he had this twenty something mayor to thank, and wished he had asked more questions before signing the contract, or even making the trip. Still, what was done was done, at least for this year.

There were three burly men, dressed in blue jeans and flannel shirts, eating sandwiches and drinking from thermoses, on the steps up to the porch. One hand an enormous beard of brown. He supposed that these were the contractors. Well, it was near enough to lunch by now that he did not blame them for taking their break, but he hoped that the interior looked more promising than the exterior, or he would be in trouble. He had to work around construction before, and it was never pleasant.