A gentle company of men.

The office is scant. Mike is at his desk. Ray is on the phone.

"Naw, this's Ray. Mike had to take another call," he says, correcting the vendor. "Yeah, it's a Sherwood E-30, but I can look at it and tell ya it ain't gonna work."

Mr. Mansfield and I talk quietly. His DeWalt nailer has a faulty trigger; his daughter has a new dog, Jack; Betty Jane's coming out this winter for storage. Mr. Mansfield shrink wraps boats. 

Ray cites the deficiencies of Betty Jane's new raw water pump: "Yeah, but the hub ain't gonna...The pulley won't...And, besides that..."

Doug's brother, Dave, comes in. He needs a can of flat black spray paint. Mr. Mansfield has some in the truck. Mansfield says his goodbyes and leaves my partner, Dale, at the counter; and my dog, Kohl, sprawled out on the cool tile floor.

At riverside lives a company of gentle men.