Thunder and Lightning: Julian's Private Scrapbook Part 4

By Eldot

Thunder and Lightning: Julian's Private Scrapbook, Part 4

Days nine, ten and eleven at Camp Walker. Adventure and high risk taking are the fare in this segment of camp life in the 1960s. A thunderstorm in the middle of the night provides challenges and opportunity, and two serious injuries change the course of events. A few new story developments and characters appear, and Julian gets much closer to reaching his goal than he realizes.

Ninth Day: Second Monday
The story begins just after midnight on the dock at Camp Walker. Sunday night, Robin and Jack snuck out of their respective camps to meet for an overnight tryst. They plan to greet the sunrise and slip back into their tents before anyone else is awake.
The second week at the scout camp has begun; everyone will be back on task working on merit badges and advancing to the next rank. The mid morning activity break includes intramural water polo, where Mark Schaeffer is one of the coaches. Mark is scoutmaster of Troop Nine.
Mark has been targeted by Geoff Staples, the sophisticated scout from California. Geoff was on duty at the special service yesterday. He was totally entranced by Mark when he led Troop Nine up to the building. On the spot he decided to add Mark to his considerable list of sexual conquests. He pursues his quest with vigor. Mark does not suspect Geoff's motives, and he has a few extremely awkward experiences.
Mark's skill and purpose as a scoutmaster gets some attention; he deals with the problem of camp politics and relations with the other scoutmasters.
Nick Harrison and Tom Dawson are the top officers in Troop Nine. With Julian's assistance, they have created a special sleeping arrangement in the troop supply tent, and disguised it to avoid detection by the scoutmaster. Their romance has brought purpose and happiness to Tom, who is determined to make amends for his years of bad behavior whenever he can; he follows through on his promise to Kurt, who he had forced to have sex a year and a half ago. This is accomplished, but it gives Kurt a new problem to solve.

Tenth Day: Second Tuesday
Yesterday afternoon's close order drill lesson gives subconscious minds an impetus to reveal inner drives; that phenomenon is experienced by Mark and Geoff in an oddly similar way.
Geoff begins to clear his private trail, and discovers the secret romance of Jack and Robin.
Danny suspects Geoff's intentions and takes it on himself to stand guard and protect his unsuspecting scoutmaster.
Julian's natural ability to perceive others' needs makes him invaluable to both Mark and Sid as it had on Saturday for Nick and Tom. Julian's artistic skill evolves by leaps... portraits and personal qualities become his subject matter.
Nick helps Kurt find a way to move forward.
Nick and Tom have a rare afternoon free of responsibility or obligations, and they give Leonard a little vicarious pleasure.
Leonard becomes discreetly supportive of several of Troop Nine's scouts and their personal needs.
Alex mentors Clint during an overnight Backpacking merit badge hike.

Eleventh Day: Second Wednesday
Camp Walker is shaken by a thunderstorm shortly after midnight. Some are better prepared to meet the challenge than others. We get a peek into the world of Troop 419, and Geoff's natural leadership ability. The overnight hikers are caught out in the open. Alex and Clint are forced into an unexpected survival compromise.
Danny is welcomed as a water polo strategist; he has his very best day yet at camp. He ends the day setting an even higher personal goal.
Julian is given an unexpected promotion. His day is packed with variety and achievement. He becomes acquainted with the Camp Director.
Doug, one of the stopwatch boys, discovers Julian.
Nick debuts as a solo lifeguard; he offers the Shooting Gallery operators a special event that he and Tom have

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Dec 13, 2012
• ISBN: 9781479756865

Eldot

cover design already provided

Book preview

Thunder and Lightning

Julian’s Private Scrapbook Part 4

a summer fantasy by

Eldot

The Troop Nine Chronicles, Year 1

36339.png

Copyright © 2012 by Diphra Enterprises.

Library of Congress Control Number:          2012922508

ISBN:             Hardcover               978-1-4797-5685-8

                 Softcover                    978-1-4797-5684-1

                 Ebook                        978-1-4797-5686-5

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Rev. date:05/23/2014

Xlibris LLC

1-888-795-4274

www.Xlibris.com

598457

46469.png

For CEC and SMJ: chapters 2 and 3. Too short, alas.

Novels in the Julian’s Private Scrapbook series:

Barr’s Meadow

The Poker Club

The Shooting Gallery

Thunder and Lightning

The Champions

Publisher’s Note:

This book is a revision of Little J and Roger, Book Four. It is intended for a mature audience. The subject is hugely controversial and sensitive. It is not written to serve or encourage prurient interests; it contains no pornography or graphic language, but there are several intimate male/male passages. Readers who are offended by that should not read this book. All the characters in the story were 62 years of age or older at the time the story was written in 2010.

Please store this book where it will not be accessed by minors.

36443.png

Author’s note: Thunder and Lightning, the fourth in a five part series, is a sequel. It begins in the morning, the day after the conclusion of Part 3: The Shooting Gallery. References to Parts 1, 2 and 3 occur occasionally to assist in providing context, but repetition of previous material is avoided, as a rule. The main characters and situations are in medias res; introductory passages are provided for new characters only. Readers new to the series will be at some disadvantage; much has happened to many of the characters, and they are busily continuing their various enterprises.

To offset this potential problem, supplementary information is available. Each character has an index entry that summarizes important events that occurred in the days previous to this book. In addition, a synopsis of the previous three books is provided as an appendix. Descriptions of Camp Walker and Barr’s Meadow from Part 1 are included as well. Though not essential, these might answer a question or two that could arise.

The custom of prefacing each day at camp with a brief preview is continued; this is designed as a convenience to the reader for keeping the wide range of characters and stories organized. Maps and floor plans from Part 1 are included in the supplementary material or inserted in places where they could enhance the Part 4 episodes.

The glossary provides explanatory information about particulars in Part 4; some were utilized in one or more of the previous novels [Barr’s Meadow, The Poker Club, and The Shooting Gallery], and are repeated because their relevance continues in this book.

The placement of this story in a scout camp has not been made with permission. The story is not about any organization or its activities, goals, or personnel. It is about specific fictional characters and what is happening in their lives outside of the scouting domain. Presumably much of what the characters do would not be approved or condoned by any scout organization, and nowhere is such a thing suggested or inferred. But the scouting enterprise is so universal and ubiquitous that scout camp has become nearly generic in our culture. It is a logical setting in which to focus on these characters’ lives. The scout organization in this story, entirely fictional as well, is depicted with respect and admiration whenever and wherever it is mentioned.

Julian’s Private Scrapbook is a work of fiction, though its origin is in true life experience. Similarities to actual persons and places have been systematically modified to eliminate any basis for recognition. Some of the places exist, but are used fictitiously.

36496.png

Contents

Before you begin… a word from Eldot

Second Monday

1 Sunup at Whispering Oaks

2 Big Ben

3 Geoff’s quest

4 Mark and Geoff 1

5 Monday afternoon free time

6 Kurt and Tom

7 Mark and Geoff 2

8 Monday supper

9 Drawing clouds

Second Tuesday

10 Morning dreams

11 Sub hunting

12 Clearing the trail

13 Julian comforts Sid

14 Kurt and Nick

15 Danny on guard 1

16 Afternoon potpourri

17 Justin and Leonard

18 Low camp

19 Mark’s second pose

Second Wednesday

20 Weather surprise

21 Water polo plans

22 The Panther inspection

23 Geoff finishes the trail

24 The tree

25 Lifeguard duty

26 Close call

27 Drawing board

28 Danny’s big break

29 Lakeside

30 Back at HQ

31 Taxi service

32 The big sheet version

33 Insomnia

Visual Material

Camp Walker Map

Scoutmaster’s Cabin

Waterfront Map

Headquarters Lunchroom Area

Hawk Camp/Barr’s Meadow

Barr’s Meadow Map

Geoff’s Trail Map

Headquarters Building

Troop 9 Roster

Suplementary Material

Preface: Little J and Roger

a word from Eldot about the style. . . 

Synopsis of Parts 1, 2, and 3

Site Descriptions

Camp Walker Staff [June 1962]

Glossary for terms in Julian’s Priva te Scrapbook, Part 4

Index of Names Thunder and Lightning

a word about the author

Key to Symbols

36119.png              Title Page

44635.png           Segment End, Non Text

36144.png              Camp Day Subdivision Contents End

36156.png             Camp Day Teaser Synopsis End

36168.png               Jump Forward in Time

36183.png          Chapter End

36198.png           Jump to Concurrent Event or Viewpoint

36209.png            Flashback Segment

36219.png          Scene Continued Later

36225.png            Camp Day End Marker

Before you begin… a word from Eldot

Readers deserve an alert about two things: the unique purpose of this series, and the special challenge of reading a book that starts in the middle of things—this is the fourth book in a series of five.

The intent of this series has always been to shed light on a subject that is generally regarded as taboo. It is nearly commonplace for young persons to develop a crush on a coach, teacher, scoutmaster, priest—or a relative, cousin, or neighbor. The object of affection does not need to be in a position of authority, but he or she often is. What has remained largely in the dark and unaddressed is the adolescent’s perspective in a story that involves this social taboo. Coming of age in our society is not a fixed ritual; it is regulated indirectly by religious and ethnic customs that vary widely. None of them accommodate the phenomenon in question. It’s so taboo it doesn’t have a name—yet it is real, it is powerful, and it affects people’s lives in the deepest way possible.

Too often the story that gets told is a fabricated tale of scandal—an alleged exploitation or perversion. Facts are cherry picked and distorted to fit a prescribed point of view. The result is usually a morality story of sorts, with a goal to instruct and scold; the objective is to manipulate and control society rather than help it grow and become whole. Sometimes one encounters a memoir that is tender, special and sympathetic. Those come closest to dealing directly with the subject. Perhaps that is because they are fact based and not doctrinaire morality tales, or sensationalistic exploitation to maximize ratings.

Meanwhile, what is behind the latest story of teen suicide we see in the media? That question is never addressed—it too is largely a taboo topic. The recent campaigns to deal with bullying are welcome, but they are after the fact for many, and they sidestep one of the core issues: why has this youth fallen in love with the wrong person? That question is not allowed. How then, is it answered? With the pointed finger of blind prejudice. The youth is condemned outright without trial or chance to offer a defense.

Often the victims have done nothing at all other than be born. They are presumed guilty because they surely will be eventually. The doctrine of original sin has been perverted and loosed on society. It is applied sanctimoniously without regulation or supervision.

Society has not allowed itself to look through the eyes of the adolescent. If the needs and drives they feel are not expressed according to the expected norm, they are outcasts. Society generally prefers to avoid facing the problem—outsource it or simply wait it out and hope for the best. Some are referred to clinical psychologists for treatment. It is dealt with by meaningless phrases like You’ll grow out of this… or Take my word for it; one day you’ll understand… or This is for your own good…

Nothing is more annoying than being patronized. It is a form of cowardice. The good intent is undermined and compromised by the personal offense it gives. The recipient, regardless of age, is ill served—and they realize that at some point. They may forgive it eventually, making excuses or allowances—or they may resent it bitterly. The point is, the unexplained, unresolved problem does not go away; either it fades into the background, or it festers into something even more difficult or impossible to manage.

The Julian’s Private Scrapbook series takes an unusual approach in confronting this social quandary: it uses romantic comedy as the setting. Throw out the villains and bullies and the prejudices that constrict the blood vessels feeding the social cranium—take a look at life afresh. Maybe if we look at life without the standard societal dressings and assumptions, we can learn something that will help us get beyond this unpleasant and hostile defect in our culture. The rejection and abuse of a misunderstood minority by ignorance and prejudice should not be allowed any longer. We can rediscover what in life is beautiful and natural and fun.

Unintended consequences?

a gateway question for the second edition

Since this series first appeared there has been a mixed response. One, though, brought pause… and it seemed wise to take a second look at how the subject was being treated. The notion that these books could in any way encourage persons who are predators or who use their position or power to abuse underage persons is appalling. That is the unintended consequence question. With that concern in mind, significant textual revisions were made to each of the books. They were then issued as Julian’s Private Scrapbook. This is the fourth in the five part series to be revised. The original Little J and Roger edition remains available in eBook format.

It is not possible of course to guard against everything. There are wildly diverging tastes and interests. To accommodate them all is impossible. There are those that regard bare ankles as obscene—others find them arousing; they are neither to most people. This series has no special agenda other than to help, and to inform by looking at that taboo head on. It does so by using comedy and everyday foibles, and it tries always to be honest as well as entertaining. That means it walks a fine line somewhere between the bare ankle and the style of sock fashioned to cover it.

The reader will have to decide for himself whether to read some of the passages. Everyone has his own line, ultimately. If it isn’t to your liking, skip to the next scene or put it away.

The Preface to the first edition is included in the supplementary materials at the back of the book. Its content applies equally to the revised version. Readers new to the series would benefit from reading the note about style, also at the back, along with a synopsis of the previous three books.

The number four son…

How to alert a reader to the peculiar challenge he faces when beginning to read a fourth-in-a-series? About all one can do is warn that much of what happens is ongoing, and if something was missed or forgotten, it may be hard to follow or understand what a character is doing—especially when there are so many. The character index and the synopsis at the end of the book are written to help fill in the needed information.

Some Thunder and Lightning episodes are bolder and largely independent of the first three books. The main story thread of Julian, the protagonist, remains at the center—and unknown to him, a competitor has taken up his quest. A year and five weeks have passed by since the story began. The action in this segment begins exactly where the third book ended, so nothing is missing.

Again, the author will not intrude in the interim, other than to continue the convention of beginning each day at camp with a bill of fare.

If you are interested in a deeper look at the technical side of this book, the series website features extensive essays on several topics (see diphra.com).

36553.png

Camp Walker

126224%20Image%201%20Camp%20Walker%20Map.jpg

Second Monday

Day 9

1.  Sunup at Whispering Oaks

2.  Big Ben

3.  Geoff’s ques

4.  Mark and Geoff 1

5.  Monday afternoon free time

6.  Kurt and Tom

7.  Mark and Geoff 2

8.  Monday supper

9.  Drawing clouds

Scoutmaster’s Cabin

Waterfront Map

Headquarters Lunchroom Area

[Reminder: the index entry for each character provides a thumbnail sketch of what happened in the previous three books.]

Julian’s Private Scrapbook

Ninth Day: Second Monday

The story begins just after midnight on the dock at Camp Walker. Sunday night, Robin and Jack snuck out of their respective camps to meet for an overnight tryst. They plan to greet the sunrise and slip back into their tents before anyone else is awake.

The second week at the scout camp has begun; everyone will be back on task working on merit badges and advancing to the next rank. The mid morning activity break includes intramural water polo, where Mark Schaeffer is one of the coaches. Mark is scoutmaster of Troop Nine.

Mark has been targeted by Geoff Staples, the sophisticated scout from California. Geoff was on duty at the special service yesterday. He was totally entranced by Mark when he led Troop Nine up to the building. On the spot he decided to add Mark to his considerable list of sexual conquests. He pursues his quest with vigor.

Mark does not suspect Geoff’s motives, and he has a few extremely awkward experiences.

Mark’s skill and purpose as a scoutmaster gets some attention; he deals with the problem of camp politics and relations with the other scoutmasters.

Nick Harrison and Tom Dawson are the top officers in Troop Nine. With Julian’s assistance, they have created a special sleeping arrangement in the troop supply tent, and disguised it to avoid detection by the scoutmaster. Their romance has brought purpose and happiness to Tom, who is determined to make amends for his years of bad behavior, whenever he can; he follows through on his promise to Kurt, who he had forced to have sex a year and a half ago. This is accomplished, but it gives Kurt a new problem to solve.

Julian, meanwhile, is hard at work perfecting his drawing skills, and swimming. He is unaware that Geoff plans to achieve the goal he has been working toward for more than a year. Julian’s strategy has been to prepare carefully; his goal is long term—the rest of his life. Wisely, he has revised his game plan—he intends to achieve his goal in small increments. He no longer expects to win Mark’s commitment before they return home.

36668.png

1 Sunup at Whispering Oaks

The distant chorus of bullfrogs caught Jack’s attention; the sound drifted in from the east. It was so quiet out on the water tonight there was no way to tell how far the sound had traveled—but it was a fair distance. The water near the scout camp lakeshore was too deep for frogs. It’s a sound he rarely got to hear… Eagle camp is too far from the creek. What a good sound; it lent a sense of comfort and harmony. It was about the only sound right now. He gave Robin’s hand a squeeze.

Robin glanced at Jack. He’s staring off to the left—must be listening to the frogs. He squeezed back. The sound belonged. So did the occasional splash of a walleye feeding on water scooters. They had appeared magically when the breeze vanished. Robin thought of his grandfather, fondly. Gramp preferred stream fishing, but he’d have a great time out there tonight—catch a smallmouth bass maybe.

The two scouts sitting on the end of the boat dock were not supposed to be there. It was after midnight; being out of their tents was a violation of their troop’s rules. And being here at the lake, a mile or more from their camps, was against Camp Walker regulations. If they were caught, it would be a serious matter.

Jack and Robin planned this daring adventure yesterday. The Sunday afternoon free period was extra long, and they had taken full advantage. They didn’t want the day to end. They might have stayed too long but for a surprise visit by a family of turkeys running from something, clucking and scolding. Jack stood up first, then Robin. The birds scurried away to the west, more frightened than ever.

The spell that had held them in place was broken; Jack looked at his watch. They were able to get back to the dock just in time—but Robin’s flip comment about watching the Moon rise over the lake started their minds working. The result was their late night hike to the lake. Once here, they were five minutes from their secret place east of the Camp Walker waterfront. It was secure—perfect for their secret romance.

It was exciting to be AWOL, and unlike anything either had ever done. Their romantic fantasies had allowed them to think boldly, and put better judgment aside for a while. They were certain they could sneak back to their camps and no one would be the wiser. As trained and skilled scouts, they had a basis for feeling confident.

Jack looked down at his legs. A blanket of goose bumps had appeared suddenly—a puff of wind had found their perch at the end of the boat dock. He looked at Robin.

Time to move, Robin nodded, as if reading Jack’s thoughts.

They stood and turned to their left. The rowboat was loaded and ready to go. Robin knelt on the edge and climbed over the bow. He took his place on the center bench and moved the oars into the locks.

Jack untied the tether and gave the bow a small push. Robin’s skill with a boat was always a pleasure to watch. Robin slipped the boat out gracefully, turned around and backed up to the dock. Jack took his place on the stern bench. This had become their routine since magic Thursday. That’s when they had taken their first ride to Whispering Oaks. Jack enjoyed this—Robin took such delight in demonstrating his rowing skill. He gave the dock a push.

Robin plied the oars with vigor. It was a more than a treat to be the driver—it offset the factor of his age. He was a year younger; he knew that Jack didn’t mind, but it always mattered to him—his own sense of being worthy of Jack needed this tangible outlet. Jack is so smart, creative, and capable—he’s an Eagle, after all. Robin didn’t need to be his equal, but he was intensely aware of how lucky he was to have Jack—he would never take that for granted.

Jack checked his watch. Whoa… we spent almost an hour out there on the dock. It’s after midnight already! It’s different at night—so quiet. No swim center noises fading in the distance. The sound of rowing was melodic in a way. The rhythmic pulse of their forward motion was soothing. The full Moon is so incredibly bright—only an hour or so until the high point. It makes Robin look wonderful. Off to the right the reflection hovered with a slight irregular shimmer, like it was trying to refocus… no ripples fractured the image.

Robin turned around to check on their location… almost there. The moonlight is just as good as the Sun for showing the shoreline. He’d wondered about that. Not a problem after all. He pushed forward on the oars to slow the momentum. The turn is just ahead.

Jack made a show of checking his watch. Excellent time tonight, Captain.

Thankee, sir, Robin quipped.

Puts you in line for a bonus. Jack licked his chops.

Alright! Robin watched the bank on the port side. They eased into the opening… the mouth of the mini lagoon was tight—a foot and a half wider than the boat.

Now. Jack cued Robin when to brake. The boat touched the bank softly. He makes it look so easy… how does he do that? He readied himself to step onto the bank when Robin swung the boat alongside.

The clearing was less than a hundred feet into the trees. Coming here the last four days had helped them establish a working trail. Jack’s flashlight made finding it simple. He led the way in—the landside segment of these outings was his domain. He had pre-determined the spot. He put his pack to the side. We should be able to scoop a bunch of leaves over here easy enough.

They spent a few minutes gathering dried oak leaves from the area. Amazing how these hold up over time. They plucked out a stray twig or two as they built the mound. Jack discovered a branch that made a tolerable rake. Soon they had a pile five or six inches deep. Robin unrolled his sleeping bag and gave one end to Jack. They placed it in the center.

They stood briefly, hands on hips, inspecting. Anything else needed? Nope. They hadn’t planned what to do next. Who’s on the inside? They looked at each other. They had become accustomed to doing things without a lot of talk. Their thoughts were often similar if not identical. It was spooky sometimes.

Oh. Jack stepped over to his pack and pulled out the pillow. He handed it to Robin. Your bag, your choice. That made it possible to proceed.

Robin didn’t want to choose, but he had to. He tossed the pillow at the head. I’ll go in first. Later on we can trade places. That was reasonable and fair. Wait. Should I take off all my clothes? He’d never been nude in bed before—never spent the night with anyone in a sleeping bag, either. He watched Jack undress… if he takes off his skivvies… yep. Okay: all the way. Made perfect sense, anyway. He flipped open the bag and tossed his socks and skivvies into the foot.

You think there’ll be a lot of dew in the morning? Jack recalled their campout procedures. The clothes were always laid inside so they wouldn’t be cold and damp when they got up the next day. He tossed in his socks and undies.

Robin thought about that. In the meadow, some mornings were very wet. Is it the same in the forest? What’s a few wrinkles? Better that than starting the day in a damp shirt, that’s for sure. He folded his shirt and placed it into the bag, near the head. He took Jack’s and placed it on top his. He put the shorts lower down along the inside fold. He reached for Jack’s. Plenty of room. He sat down and brushed off his feet. He swung around and cozied in. Nice. It’s chilly out there.

Jack looked forward to this. He stooped to start the zipper upward… it’s easy to slide the rest of the way after I’m in. He swiveled and sat—mmm… the flannel of the inside feels so nice. He brushed off his feet. Here goes: dream come true! He tucked his feet and legs in and scooted down. Rats—he had to turn his back to finish the zipper… there. He turned to face Robin. Now it’s dream come true.

They looked into each other’s eyes. Plenty of light… not like on the lake, but enough. They kissed lightly and leaned back on one elbow; they held their gaze, each waiting for the other to say something.

Bonus? Robin teased.

I’ll have to spring that as a surprise, Jack smirked. It’s too crowded in here for what I had in mind. That was a dodge; he hadn’t figured out what to do for a bonus. It was just a phrase, actually… now I have a good excuse to plan something.

Yeah, it is cozy in here all right. Robin had never slept with another person before. This is thrilling—even if it is a bit cramped. Jack’s face filled his view—a wave of emotion swept through him. He hugged Jack and giggled. Everything is perfect right now. He pecked Jack on the lips. Actually, I’m your prisoner in my own sleeping bag. How’s that for a surprise? He felt Jack’s growing cock pulse against his abdomen. He reached down and grasped Jack’s butt and pulled him close. His erection pressed against Jack.

Jack didn’t think he’d be horny after this afternoon—or yesterday afternoon, now… but Robin always did this to him. He reached around and pulled Robin even tighter. Why waste time with small talk? Plenty enough time for that afterwards.

They always made love in this fashion; it was not especially awkward, surprisingly. It was novel to a degree in this bag, but the occasion alone was a huge turn on. They followed their standard routine—kisses and hand manipulation. They preferred that—and, this environment accommodated very nicely. No complaints; the leaves were doing their job; the rustle and crunch was soft, approving.

36784.png

Afterward, Jack held his hand in place; the lovemaking tonight was more graceful than usual—almost like a slow dance. Too bad it’s over.

Cripes, Robin complained.

You left your towel in the pack. I left my Kleenex, too. I didn’t think about that until this minute either. He chuckled. Your bag, your choice!

Robin was stuck—his socks and skivvies might have served, but they were out of reach down at the foot of the bag. Our palms are full. Soon it will run down and puddle; then it will be everywhere… . not so good. Can you get to the zipper without—

Smearing all over the bag? Jack finished the question. He turned onto his back for openers. That freed his right hand. He fished up over his shoulder for the zipper. Lucky this bag has a two-sided pull—I can do this from the inside… He got it halfway down and flopped the bag open. He emptied his cupped hand outside.

Man! The air is cold! Robin turned onto his back and scooted upwards. He stood clear now—covered with goose bumps. He looked around—there. The pack was six feet away. He stepped over and grabbed it. The towel was way at the bottom, of course. He cleaned himself and passed the towel to Jack. He placed the pack along the head of the sleeping bag.

Hey, while you’re at it, bring mine over here. I brought goodies.

Robin fetched the other pack. He handed it to Jack, who was sitting up. Brr! He rubbed his arms. He wanted to get back into warm cozy land.

Ready in a jiff… Jack pulled out the canteen and a couple of candy bars… save the others for later. He swung the pack behind his head; it tipped over while he slid back down into the bag. He scooted to the right… it’s Robin’s turn to be on the zipper side. Here ya go, he held up a candy bar.

Good choice. Robin tucked himself in quickly. Mmm. He preferred candy bars with nuts inside; hits the spot right now, too. Eating a candy bar lying on the stomach was no problem—lousy for sipping from the canteen though. Nothing but sitting seemed any good for that. How long to sunrise? Robin didn’t have a watch.

Jack checked the time. Almost two o’clock. A while yet… about four hours. A while is right; how can we stay awake? At least the Moon is still high.

I want to see it from the dock. An image of how that would appear formed in his mind. Robin just missed seeing the sunrise over Valley River once, on one of Gramp’s early morning fishing trips.

Me too. It will be a non event here—the trees are in the way. Probably around five-thirty we should dress and go back over there. We need to be on the trail no later than six-thirty. That will get us back to camp by wakeup time.

Turning over, Robin warned. His back didn’t like it when he was on his tummy for too long.

Jack turned onto his left side. The back of the sleeping bag felt good against his butt. He propped his left arm up and made a cradle for his head. The view of Robin’s face is perfect.

I still don’t believe we’re doing this. Robin chuckled.

Yeah… Jack reached over with his right hand and found Robin’s. I never expected to pull off anything like this, ever. Jack was used to being the one who stood for the rules—he was the JA of his troop, after all. Why am I so willing to risk everything? He looked into Robin’s eyes. The answer was right there, looking him in the face. What am I going to do? In six days camp will be over. Should I find a way to talk about it? Thoughts about the future kept nagging in the back of his mind. Maybe in a minute. He squeezed Robin’s hand… why spoil this moment with heavy talk? He wanted Robin’s time to be the best it could be. Better to be cool and mellow.

Robin turned his head and gazed at Jack. He didn’t want to be corny. Instead of saying anything he puckered. Jack’s kiss was nice, as always. He thought about their first trip here… right after Rowing class. He remembered perfectly—Calvin was in a hurry to buy targets at the Trading Post. I was a nervous wreck until I spotted Jack coming down the trail. They’d come to this place, desperate and horny. The happiest time of my life up to now. Tonight is better in some ways, maybe. Toss up.

Jack turned onto his back. He looked up through the canopy of oak branches. Stars twinkled happily in the spaces between the leaves. What about next week? We’ll be over two hundred miles apart. We have to talk about that sometime… Is there an answer to the problem? All we can do is make every minute we have at camp happy and memorable. Six days left, starting now… Something will come to me. No point in worrying Robin about it… I’m the oldest and most experienced. It’s my place to do the worrying.

36792.png

Mmm…

What a lovely sound… the contented hum was faint—but enough to stir Robin back to a waking state. Jack must be having a nice dream.

Gosh, we fell asleep… we weren’t gonna do that. The original idea was to stay up all night and watch the sunrise over the lake. Robin smiled. It’s okay. Jack is forgiven. But going to sleep isn’t a good idea… we have to be sure to leave in time… We don’t dare be late. If either one of us is discovered missing in camp? Hard to imagine what would happen. Not fun, for sure.

Let him sleep… I can do the stay awake duty alone for a while. We’ll be okay… Only fair, really. I have the shortest distance back to camp. I’ll get an extra half hour of naptime when I get back. Besides, going over the memory of the last couple of hours is enough to hold me for a while… I’ll wake him in a minute or two.

Sneaking out of camp was way easier than I ever thought it would be; it’s the craziest thing I’ve ever done. And the most rewarding. Jack and he had come up with the idea yesterday afternoon—the free swim period was extra long after the banquet. Neither of them could find a convincing argument against doing this. Jack was a little bolder about it. Understandable—he is a year older. He’s an Eagle and a Junior Assistant, so what else could I do? I’m in good hands. Arms, to be exact. Jack’s embrace is enough to protect me against the elements.

Robin took a deep breath. The night air had chilled considerably—but it smelled wonderful. Strange—sometimes they were so hot and horny they were like beasts. Other times, they were mellow and soft and gentle. It’s not like this with anyone else. Sometimes they didn’t need any sex at all. Just being together was all they needed. Jack is who I need for the rest of my life. Why does he have to live so far away? What will we do when camp’s over?

Stop it, Robin! That kind of thinking will ruin the best night of your life. Now put that one away. You have to deal with that in daylight with Jack. He will have all kinds of brilliant ideas. Your job is to make this time as best as it can be. We have all week to figure things out.

Fresh air is nice, but too cold. Robin