Chester Kleenwell stood at the base of Watergate High, staring up at the concrete building. The windows gleamed in the morning sun. This technical school would be his classroom. Here, he would teach students the proper way to clean anything. His dream was finally within reach. The school's demonstration plaza stretched out before him like a stage. The stonework curved in elegant patterns. Metal railings lined the edges. Chester pictured his students gathered here, watching him work. He would show them techniques they'd never forget. This open space was perfect for outdoor lessons. But the weathered stone path leading to the plaza worried him. Dark stains marked the aged stones. Moss grew in the cracks. Oil spots dotted the surface. Chester knelt down and ran his finger across a stain. His students would need real surfaces to practice on. Theory alone wouldn't prepare them for actual jobs. Therefore, he made a decision. The path would become their first assignment. Each stone told a story of neglect. His students would learn to read those stories. They would restore the path one stone at a time. Chester smiled and stood up. The technical school was ready. Now he just needed his students to arrive.