(Author Note: This is the second story in a series. The characters and situations were introduced in the episode:
Camp Torowa Falls 1964 - 01: A Fair To Remember
Read that episode first!)
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A groan came from under the unruly pile of bedclothes. Corey peeked out from under his blanket and was surprised at the amount of light streaming in through his bedroom windows. It looked to be well after dawn - he really must have been tired. He looked down the length of the long, narrow bedroom and saw...another unruly pile of bedclothes on the spare bed, but no sign of Jerry!

Corey sat up in bed... startled... threw off his covers and swung his legs over the side of his bed. He groaned again. Between a whole day of walking around the fair and hours spent stuck in the cramped back seat of his Dad's car, Corey's legs and back felt stiff as boards. He thought that kind of stuff only happened when you got old, like his parents.

Corey shook his head, trying to clear the sleepy fog from his brain. Now wait a minute, he thought. We did go the World's Fair yesterday, right? Or did I just dream it. Look at the evidence - somebody had definitely been sleeping in his spare bed, and it probably hadn't been Goldilocks. But Jerry never woke up before Corey did.

He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and focused on the alarm clock on his dresser - 6:58 in the morning. The sun must have been up for more than an hour already. Corey never slept this late - unless he had a late night before, which had definitely been the case. They had arrived home from the fair after 11 o'clock last night. What with getting Jerry's luggage up the stairs and partially unpacked - his friend had an immediate need for his pajamas, at least - they didn't get to bed until nearly midnight.

Corey scratched himself absently as he looked around the room. Yep, Jerry's suitcases and backpack were there alright. At least the previous day hadn't just been a dream. But it still didn't explain where Jerry was. Corey heard a squeak on the stairs, someone was coming up to his loft bedroom. Soon a delightfully familiar face appeared.

"Good morning, sleepy head," said Jerry brightly as he crested the stairs. He was wearing a frayed terrycloth bathrobe that was a bit too small for his growing body.

"When did you get up?" said Corey, trying not to sound too grumpy, and not even remotely succeeding.

Jerry chuckled, "About a half-hour ago. I decided to grab a shower and let you get some more sleep - I thought you needed it."

Corey chuckled in reply, "Yeah, I guess I did at that. But you never get up earlier than me."

"Wounded your pride, did I?" said Jerry, grinning.

"No," protested Corey, "but we went to bed at the same time..."

"I slept an hour or so in the car," said Jerry, "after Becky stopped singing that silly song. Did you get any sleep on the way home?"

"Not really," said Corey. "Sitting in the middle isn't very comfortable."

"You should have leaned over against me," said Jerry. "Robby uses me for a pillow all the time when we go on long trips."

"But I'm a lot bigger than Robby," said Corey.

Jerry laughed, "Oh, I think I can handle it."

"I'll keep it in mind," said Corey. "With any luck there won't be any long car trips until we head up to camp next month."

"I'll second that motion," said Jerry, as he took off his tight robe and sat down on his bed, clad only in white briefs. "I better finish unpacking."

"Just remember what day it is," said Corey as he rose to his feet and got ready to grab a shower himself, "you're gonna need your Sunday clothes."

"I remember," said Jerry. "I was planning to find them first. What time is church?"

"Sunday school starts at 9 o'clock, with the main worship service at 10."

"Is the minister any good?" asked Jerry.

"Reverend Druckenmiller is great!" said Corey. "A whole lot less boring than old Reverend Belling."

"Corey," said Jerry, "watching paint dry is less boring than one of Reverend Belling's sermons."

"True," said Corey, "but Reverend Druckenmiller is excellent. Most of his sermons even made some kind of sense to me - even back when I was ten or eleven."

"I'll take your word for it," said Jerry. "You said his name is 'Drunken Miller'?"

"Druckenmiller," said Corey. "'C' in place of the 'N" in drunk. It's German. Most of the families around here are German - Pennsylvania Dutch. Actually I'm half German myself. The Lanes are English but my Mom's family - the Hoffmans - are Pennsylvania Dutch."

"Okay," said Jerry. "But I gotta ask the obvious question. Why do they call your Mom's family Pennsylvania Dutch if they're actually German?"

"Good question," said Corey. "The story goes that when the Germans started arriving in Philadelphia in the early 1700s, the English colonists were already living there. The English naturally asked the newcomers where they were from. The Germans told them they were from 'Deutschland', the German word for Germany."

"Oh, I get it," said Jerry. "The English thought that meant they were Dutch."

"Correct," said Corey. "The misunderstanding was encouraged by the fact that most of the Germans who arrived in Pennsylvania had sailed from Dutch ports, not German ones."

"Why did they sail from Holland instead of Germany?"

"Another good question," said Corey. "Most of the Germans who settled here in Pennsylvania came from the Rhein Valley in Germany. They took river boats or barges down to the Dutch ports on the coast. They got on the ships that brought them to America in Rotterdam or Amsterdam."

"Okay," said Jerry. "Just one more question - how do you know all that?"

Corey chuckled, "My Uncle Karl always tells everybody about the Hoffman family history. He's really into geneology."

"Jeannie who?"

"Geneology," said Corey. "The study of who your ancestors were - your family tree."

"Oh, I get it," said Jerry. He laid back down on his bed and rubbed his temples. It appeared to Corey that his friend was tired of the conversation.

"Well, I better go grab a shower," said Corey, "before the others wake up. Mom and Becky take forever in the bathroom."

"Okey-doke," said Jerry. He got up and began to finish his unpacking as Corey retreived a clean pair of underwear from his dresser and headed downstairs to shower.

"That breakfast was excellent, Mrs. Lane," said Jerry. "Thank you very much."

"You're more than welcome, Jerry," said Corey's Mom, pausing from clearing away the dishes and beaming. "It's so nice to have a polite young man around here... for a change."

Corey rolled his eyes in frustration. "Mother," he protested, "you know I love your food."

"Yes, dear," said Mom, "but it would nice if you actually said so now and then."

"I always thank you, Mom," said Becky. "It's just that Jerry beat me to it today."

"I know sweetheart," said Mom, "you're always very polite and appreciative. I'm so glad at least one of my children is."

Corey had just about had enough of this garbage. "Thanks for breakfast, Mom," he said in a sarcastic tone, "I really enjoyed it."

"Corey!" said his father, in a very stern tone. He looked ready to leap out of his chair.

Corey recognized the danger signs and note of warning in his father's voice. His stomach did a backflip - he suddenly felt like he was walking close to the edge of a very high cliff. "Sorry, Dad," he said quickly and sincerely. "Sorry, Mom. I really did like breakfast."

"That's better," said his father, who relaxed again.

"That's alright, dear", said Mom. "Perhaps some of Jerry's good manners will rub off on you this summer."

Corey wisely held his tongue. He doubted he could say anything at that moment that wouldn't get him instantly clobbered by his Dad.

"Mr. Lane and I want to have a talk with you two boys before lunch today," said Corey's Mom a short time later as they prepared to head for church.

"Yes, Ma'am," said Jerry.

"Okay, Mom," said Corey. He noticed Jerry pulling at his dress pants, which seemed awfully small on him. Corey hoped his friend had another, larger pair with him, because the ones he was wearing looked ready to split at the seams at any time.

The Lane family walked to church every Sunday, since it was only a block and a half. As they started down Monroe Avenue they met the next-door neighbors, the Lichtenwalners, heading off to church as well. Jerry was introduced to Thomas Lichtenwalner and his wife Connie, who shared the other side of the Lane's duplex home with their sons Billy and Johnny, ages 11 and 9, respectively.

The two families headed down to 9th Street, where they turned left and strolled a block up the steep hill to Lincoln Avenue, where they approached Grace Evangelical Church. Jerry noticed that there was a school across the street from the church.

"That's Franklin School," said Becky. "I'm gonna be in sixth grade there next year," she added proudly.

"You folks live really close to church... and school," said Jerry.

"I used to," said Corey. "Since last September I attend Northampton Junior High School - it's up by 18th and Lincoln Avenue."

"How high do the numbered streets go in Northampton?" said Jerry.

"The bank is at 21st and Main," said Corey. "That's up near the north end of town."

"I think the last numbered street may be 30th Street," said Mr. Lichtenwalner. The other adults seemed to agree with that statement. "It's mostly farmland north of 30th Street."

"I'm sure Corey will show you around town this afternoon, Jerry" said Corey's Dad. "And tomorrow - help you get the lay of the land."

"Sure," said Corey. "I was planning to anyway."

"Okay, then, that's settled," said Mrs. Lichtenwalner. "Shall we go inside?"

"You two, stop that!" bellowed Mr. Lichtenwalner to his sons, who were shoving each other.

Corey had thought the Lichtenwalner boys were even more boisterous than usual this morning. He hoped they could stay out of trouble, or at least avoid getting Jerry and himself in trouble.

As they settled into their Sunday School classroom, Jerry observed that they were about the youngest people in the room. "Yep," said Corey. "I've been in this class since turning 13 back in January. Before then I was in the 8-12 year old class with Becky and the Lichtenwalners. This is the 13-17 year old class. Any older than that and you're with the adult class."

"Well, we still don't have to worry about being adults for a few years yet," said Jerry.

"Nope," said Corey.

"You little twerps will never be adults," said a voice from behind Corey that he unfortunately recognized immediately.

"Shut up, Steve," said Corey, turning in his seat. "Jerry, this is Steve Wetzel, the local village idiot." He indicated dismissively the lanky 15-year old who was sitting behind him. Corey noticed that Steve seemed to be trying to grow a mustache, and was failing miserably.

"You're the only idiot around here, Lane, said Steve. "So who's your new girlfriend?"

"Steve," said Corey with exaggeratd patience, "this is Jerry Farnham, my friend who is visiting from New York this summer."

"So, Geraldine," said Steve, looking Jerry up and down appraisingly, "are you an uptown girl or a downtown girl?"

"The name's Jerry, punk," said Jerry, rising to his feet, his fists clenched. "I'm the son of a Marine and a future Marine. So if you want to keep your head in the vicinity of your shoulders, I'd suggest you show a little respect."

"Oooo, I'm so scared, Geraldine," said Steve mockingly.

"What's the problem here?" said an adult voice. Mrs. Hofstetter, the Sunday School teacher, had just entered the room. Jerry immediately unclenched his fists and sat down. "Are you teasing the younger boys again, Stephen?"

"No Ma'am," said Steve, smuggly.

"Don't lie to me, Stephen," said Mrs. Hofstetter. "I heard you teasing this young man."

"I'm sorry," said Steve, with swaggering insincerity.

"Yes," said Mrs. Hofstetter doubtfully, "I'm sure you are. Uptown girl, indeed." Steve actually blushed and averted his eyes at that comment. She turned to Jerry. "You must be Jerry, young Corey's friend?"

"Yes, Ma'am," said Jerry, springing back to his feet. "Jerry Farnham, from Elmira, New York."

"Corey's mother said you'd be visiting us for a few weeks this summer. I'm Emily Hofstetter - welcome to Grace Evangelical Sunday School."

"Thank you, Mrs. Hofstetter. I'm very pleased to meet you," said Jerry.

"Thank you, Jerry," said Mrs. Hofstetter. "Please sit down, so we may begin." He immediately complied.

Nearly two hours later Jerry and Corey were standing on the sidewalk outside of church. The congregation was leaving after the main worship service. Since it was a beautiful early summer day, people were - for lack of a better word - congregating. They were standing around in groups chatting about various topics, both religious and secular, while the younger children charged around blowing off steam after being stuck in church for half the morning.

"This makes a nice change from waiting in line for Miss Bertha's hairbrush, doesn't it?" said Jerry.

"It sure does!" agreed Corey. "Though that idiot Steve could do with having a few manners beaten into his backside."

"He's nothing..." said Jerry.

"You weren't really gonna pop him one, were you?" said Corey.

"Nah," said Jerry. "I never swing first - at least not in church." The two friends shared a laugh over that one. At that point they were joined by two other boys whom Jerry had met after Sunday School, Walt Eckert and Jimmy Snyder.

Jimmy Snyder was a 12-year-old neighbor from across Monroe Avenue. Corey wasn't really all that fond of the kid, who was quite shy and timid. But Jimmy hung around a lot because his little sister Janet was part of Becky's circle of close friends.

Walt Eckert was 13-years-old and one of Corey's closest friends in town. He also happened to be Corey's second cousin. Corey's Mom's mother was an Eckert. The Eckert family had been late for Sunday School so Walt had missed the confrontation between Jerry and Steve. "I think you should have popped Steve a good one," said Walt. "He deserves it."

"Maybe," said Corey. "But why should Jerry get the tar beaten out of him by my Dad just because Steve's an idiot?"

"You're Dad wouldn't beat a guest, would he?" said Jimmy, incredulously.

"I guess you don't know my Dad very well then, Jimmy," said Corey.

"He certainly could, Jimmy," said Jerry. "My Uncle Owen specifically told Mr. Lane to treat me the same as he would Corey when it came to discipline. Corey's parents have my family's permission to punish me as they see fit."

"Wow!" said Jimmy. Corey wondered if Mr. Snyder ever spanked Jimmy. He was certain that the kid would faint dead away - after wetting himself - if Boss Lemmon ever threatened him with his razor strap. Heck, maybe even if Boss Lemmon looked at Jimmy crossways.

As the four boys chatted, they had moved slowly down to the corner of 9th Street and Lincoln Avenue to get away from a group of obnoxious little kids who were playing tag - even with people who weren't in the game. Jerry looked down the 9th Street hill and saw the bridge over the river at the bottom. "Is that New Jersey over there?" said Jerry.

"Nope, that's Coplay, Pennsylvania," said Corey. "That's the Lehigh River, which empties into the Delaware River in Easton, a city we passed through last night while you were asleep."

"So that's the river Mrs. Hofstetter warned us about not swimming in, right?" said Jerry.

"Yep," said Walt.

"What's the big deal, anyway?" said Jerry. Although you could tell there was a river down there, it was hard to see the actual water from this spot because the bridge and houses were in the way. "Are there rapids here, or something?"

"Not really," said Corey. "It's more of a personal tragedy thing. Her son Joey drowned in the Lehigh a few years back."

"Ouch!" said Jerry. "No wonder she was so worked up about it. How old was the kid?"

"I think he was ten or something," said Corey. "I was only six or seven at the time myself, so I don't remember too many details. All I do know is that none of the parents in this neighborhood has allowed their kids to swim in the Lehigh River since that time. They even built a big municipal swimming pool right after that to lure us kids away from the river."

"That's rough," said Jerry, "that they won't let you go swimming anymore, of course. But that also had to be rough on Mr. and Mrs. Hofstetter. Did they have any other children?"

"Nope," said Corey. "Joey was it - so ever since then they've taught Sunday School every week. And they warn us never to go swimming in the river every single Sunday - even in January!"

"Wouldn't the river be covered with ice in January?" said Jerry.

"Sometimes," said Walt, "but not usually."

"The Chemung River is iced over every winter," said Jerry.

"Yeah, but you're a lot further north, right?" said Corey.

"True," said Jerry. "So you guys never swim in the river?"

"Nope!" said Jimmy, fervently.

"Well, not in January, anyway," said Corey. He and Walt were both looking a bit sheepish.

"Not too often," said Walt.

"We have to be really careful, you understand," said Corey.

"If we get caught, it's curtains," said Walt.

"Dead meat twisting in the wind," said Corey.

Jerry was chuckling, but Jimmy had a look of dumbstruck horror on his face. "You mean you guys..." Jimmy said, sputtering. "...after all Mr. and Mrs. Hofstetter said... and all our parents!"

"Well, Jimmy," said Walt. "Be fair, now. They let us swim in the canal."

"Or in Hockendaqua Creek," said Corey.

"A kid could even drown in the municipal pool," said Walt.

"But they have lifeguards!" said Jimmy.

"Yeah, right," said Corey, snorting.

"All the lifeguards do is keep us from having fun at the pool," said Walt.

"Oh, I get it," said Jimmy, "you guys are just yankin' my chain."

"That's right, Jimmy," said Walt. He winked at Corey and Jerry. "We're just yankin' your chain."

"Fine," said Jimmy huffily. "If you want to be like that..." He stalked away in a snit.

"I miss him already," said Walt, grinning.

"Wow," said Jerry. "That Jimmy's a bit of a sissy."

"And how!" said Corey. He and Walt laughed.

"So, how warm is the river water this time of year?" said Jerry.

"We can discuss it later," said Walt in a soft, careful voice, "here come Corey's parents."

Corey turned to see that his parents were indeed heading their way. They seemed to be happy, but now Corey was beginning to worry about that post-breakfast announcement of a private meeting before lunch. He glanced at Jerry and detected a hint of concern on his friend's face as well. Had they done anything wrong yesterday that they'd have to answer for today? Only time would tell.

"Let's head for home, boys," said Corey's Mom. She and his Dad were strolling hand in hand.

"Is Becky coming with us?" said Jerry, looking around for her.

"No, Jerry," said Mom, "Rebecca is having lunch at her friend Patricia's house today.

"Oh, okay," said Jerry. He and Corey exchanged looks of concern as they fell in behind Corey's parents strolling down 9th Street.

About half way down the block Corey nearly stopped dead in his tracks. A horrible thought had just crossed his mind. Had that little sneak Jimmy ratted on him about swimming in the river? No, wait, the meeting had been called by his parents before Jimmy found out about that. Never mind. He began walking at normal speed again, with Jerry looking at him curiously. "Later." was all Corey said.

As the group reached Monroe Avenue and began crossing 9th Street, a commotion could be heard up the hill. Corey could see Mr. and Mrs. Lichtenwalner striding down the 9th Street sidewalk from Lincoln Avenue, each firmly holding one of their sons by an ear, marching their offspring down the street.

Billy and Johnny Lichtenwalner were pleading with their parents for mercy. Corey didn't know what had happened, but he had a pretty good idea what was about to happen. So did a lot of other kids, who were following the Lichtenwalner family down the hill, hoping to see and/or hear the show that was about to start when the unhappy family got home.

"Get out of the street, you two!" yelled Corey's Dad. Corey looked around and suddenly realized that he and Jerry had stopped in the middle of 9th Street to watch the Lichtenwalner/witness procession, and were now blocking traffic, which fortunately for them was nonexistent at just after 11 o'clock on a Sunday. They both hussled over to the sidewalk, joining Corey's parents. "You'll be able to hear the whole thing from our house," said Dad.

The two boys rather sheepishly followed the two adults half way down the block towards 10th Street and up the front stairs into the Lane's house at 940 Monroe Avenue. Just before Corey entered the house, he glanced back down the street to see the Lichtenwalners turn the corner, still guiding their furiously protesting sons by their ears as they marched down Monroe Avenue, leading a group of enthusiastic children behind them like a couple of strange pied pipers.

"Alright," said Dad as the two somewhat crestfallen boys stood before him in the living room, "Corey, I want you to give Jerry a quick tour of the second floor, ending with our office. I want you both to wait for us there. Your mother and I will be up to speak with you in a few minutes."

"Yes sir!" said Corey. He quickly led Jerry up the front stairs. "Did we do anything?" he whispered to Jerry in the upstairs hallway.

"Not that I can think of," whispered Jerry.

"I gotta take a leak," whispered Corey. Then in a normal voice he said, "Let's start with the bathroom."

"Good idea," said Jerry in a normal voice. Then he whispered "I wanna pee too, at least as a precaution."

The two boys were once again too preoccupied to horse around, but simply unzipped and did their business. Corey was concerned about what was waiting for them in his parents' office. And worse yet he could hear the Lichtenwalners arriving next door at 938 Monroe - leaving a large audience in the street outside to hear anything that might happen to them here in 940 Monroe in the next few minutes as well.

The two boys washed their hands, then rushed through a cursory tour of Becky's bedroom, which featured a canopy bed, frilly lace curtains and floral print wallpaper with posters of her "Crushes of the Month" as Mom put it, Johnny Crawford from "The Rifleman" and Paul Petersen from "The Donna Reed Show". Allegedly both teen hearthrobs were singers as well, but come on! Corey knew that neither of those jerks could hold a candle to "The King".

Then they looked into the master bedroom. Jerry whistled appreciatively at the sight of all the fancy wood furnishings in classical Early Georgian style, which Corey knew weren't nearly expensive as they looked. They were all reproductions, not the real thing. He didn't bother to mention that little fact.

As the boys entered the home office of Corey's parents, they could hear the festivities getting underway next door. Somebody, Corey thought it was probably Johnny Lichtenwalner, was getting his bare bottom tanned with a leather strap (Becky had once talked Johnny into telling her how he and his brother "got it"), and the little 9-year-old brat was making his distress known in no uncertain terms.

Jerry moved to the window while Corey strained to hear what was being said next door. There were breaks between strokes of the strap when Mr. Lichtenwalner was questioning his erring offspring. Corey couldn't catch much of it, but it seemed to have something to do with "water pistols" and "holy water". Wow! Could those little brats have really filled their water pistols from the baptismal font at church? Talk about an original sin!

"Check this out," said Jerry softly, beckoning Corey over to the window.

Corey moved over to the window and looked out. There were more than twenty kids out on the sidewalk and even out on Monroe Avenue itself. They were all straining to hear the whipping in progress inside the Lichtenwalner house. As a final crescendo of whacks from his father's strap sent little Johnny into a hysterical fit of screaming, Corey was fascinated by the reactions of the listening children, most of whom he knew well.

Many of them were eating it up enthusiastically, of course. This group included Becky and her companions, Patty Roth, Sue Klusarits, and Janet Snyder, Jimmy's little sister. Jimmy himself seemed to be trying to enjoy the screaming, but he flinched noticeably every time the sound of the strap finding its mark issued forth through the window screens, followed by the inevitable high pitched scream.

Corey was surprised when he realized that he could hear the sound of the thrashing much more clearly through the front office window than through the thick walls separating the duplex houses. The sound must be bouncing off the houses across the street and back into the window they were standing next to.

More kids were joining the crowd, including two of Corey's friends, Doug Kleckner and Mike Huijsa, who attended different churches and must have just gotten home. Johnny's thrashing had ended at last, and the newcomers had to have the situation explained to them by the original members of the mob. Nobody was leaving, of course, because they all knew that one more naughty little bottom needed to receive its proper dose of leather.

"No Dad, not my underpants, too!" said 11-year-old Billy Lichtenwalner desperately. Corey was amazed again at the clarity of the sounds he was hearing.

"Drop'em, boy!" demanded the gruff voice of Mr. Lichtenwalner. Corey could see and hear snickers run through the crowd of listening kids.

Corey liked Mr. Lichtenwalner. He was a huge, usually friendly, bear of a man. He made his living slinging around 50 pound bags of cement at the Dragon Cement Plant, which made him amazingly strong. Corey was incredibly glad that it was Billy Lichtenwalner's bottom cheeks that were about to be the target of the huge man's strap, and not Corey's own sensitive twin globes. He unconsiously rubbed the seat of his dress trousers with both hands.

At last Billy's time of suffering was at hand, and the rhythmic "Whack!" of leather on tender flesh followed by the answering scream of boy anguish began again.

Corey looked into Jerry's face, a mask of concentration. Then he scanned the intent faces of his friends and neighbors ranged on the street and sidewalk below. With a sudden flash of insight, Corey realized that they all needed this, in some strange way. Call it a release, or whatever. In some odd way, the strap marks and blisters appearing on Billy Lichtenwalner's bare bottom were attoning not only for his own sins, but for the sins of all these children who were listening to his punishment.

As he listened to the strapping and Billy's howls, Corey wondered if he had just had a profound moment, or if he had just had too much church that morning for his own good. He'd have to think about it.

As the final crescendo of Billy's whipping reverberated through the neighborhood, Corey realized that he could hear footsteps on the back stairs of his own house. His parents were coming. He reached out and tapped Jerry on the shoulder, startling his friend from his reverie.

Corey pointed to the door of the office, and Jerry nodded. The two friends turned their backs on the window and faced the door, and their impending future, whatever it might bring.

With a perfect sense of drama and timing, Corey's parents entered the office just as the sound of the last whack of Mr. Lichtenwalner's strap sailed through the window screen, punctuated by a scream. The two boys stood at either side of the window, at something close to the military "attention" posture they each had practiced thousands of times.

Corey's Dad crossed the office and moved behind his wooden desk, sitting down in the big leather chair behind it. Corey always thought his Dad looked really impressive sitting there, with his college diploma and award plaques from his employer on the wall behind him. The effect was heightened by the fact that he was wearing his Sunday best clothes at the moment.

Corey's Mom stood behind two armless chairs which had been placed in front of the wooden desk. "Have a seat, boys," she said, placing a hand on the back of each chair.

Moving first, Corey sat in the left hand chair facing the desk. Jerry followed almost immediately and was soon seated in the right-hand chair. Then Mom walked around to sit in a nice armchair next to the desk, facing the boys.

His emotions in a whirl, Corey studied his parents oh-so-familiar faces, faces he had looked on in wonderment his entire life, trying desperately to get a clue as to how much trouble he and Jerry might be in. At least they weren't obviously furious, that was something to cling to.

At last Corey's Dad cleared his throat and said, "Well, boys. Is there anything you'd like to tell us?"

Corey's heart nearly stopped. What the hell? The loaded question of all parental loaded questions! He was suddenly glad that he had used the bathroom a few minutes ago. This was looking very bad. What could he tell them? What had he done? It must have something to do with the whole "swimming in the Lehigh" conversation they just had on the corner outside church. Had Jimmy squealed after all? That little rat...

"No sir," said Jerry, confidantly.

Corey jerked his head to the right so quickly he felt a twinge in his neck. In his near panic Corey had almost forgotten that Jerry was there. Okay, what the hell! Put up a united front - it was their only possible hope of survival, slim as it was. But slim is a whole lot better than none. "No sir," said Corey, with a great deal more confidence than he felt.

There was a pause of about five seconds, which seemed like five hours to Corey in his panicked state. "I see," said Dad finally. "Very well then. First, we'd like to officially welcome you to our home, Jerry."

"Yes, Jerry," said Mom, "we know that Corey has been looking forward to this for months, and we're so glad that the arrangements to pick you up at the fair worked out."

"Th..thank you, so much," said Jerry. Corey could almost feel the waves of relief coming off of his friend. "I'm glad it worked out, too, Mr. and Mrs. Lane. You were very kind to let Corey invite me."

"Not at all, Jerry" said Dad, smiling broadly. "It was our pleasure. You are most welcome to be a part of our family for the next few weeks. For we do hope you will come to consider us more as your extended family rather than as simply your hosts."

"Oh, I'm sure I will, sir," said Jerry.

"Very good, Jerry," said Mom. "Now, I'm sure you realize that we have certain rules that we expect all children living in our home to abide by."

"Of course, Ma'am," said Jerry.

"Corey and Rebecca are quite familiar with these rules," said Mom. "But rather than rely on them to pass the rules on to you, we thought a more formal meeting like this might be a good idea... to avoid any misunderstandings."

"I understand, Ma'am," said Jerry.

"Most of them are the usual basics," said Dad. "No swearing, fighting, stealing, running or throwing things in the house, and so forth." Jerry nodded his understanding.

"Normally there are set bedtimes, even on the weekends," said Mom. "But since it is summer and there is no school, you really have no set bedtimes. That being said, you must realize that Mr. Lane does have to get up early to go to work Monday through Friday, and that I have to go to work two or three days a week."

"I understand, Ma'am," said Jerry. "No noise late at night that might disturb either of you."

"You catch on quickly, Jerry," said Dad, chuckling. "I wish Corey did."

Corey rolled his eyes and sighed in frustration, but held his tongue. He was so glad they weren't in serious trouble that he didn't really care how much his parents criticized him at the moment. He just wanted to get this over as quickly as possible. Keeping his mouth firmly shut seemed the best way to make that happen.

"So the rule is no loud television or record playing after 10 o'clock at night," said Mom. Jerry nodded his understanding.

"Now let's talk about telephone usage," said Dad. "There are two phone lines in this house. The one down in the kitchen, and this one here in our office." He pointed to the rather fancy phone sitting on his large desk. "Corey and Rebecca are not allowed to use this phone under any circumstances. But you, Jerry, will be allowed to use this phone for a private conversation - of up to five minutes - with your family back in Elmira once a week."

"That's very generous of you, sir," said Jerry. "But I really don't think that will be necessary. I'm used to being away for weeks at a time - in camp - without speaking with my family."

"That will have to be up to you, of course, Jerry," said Dad. "But we wanted you to know the option was available to you."

"Thank you," said Jerry.

"You may use the phone in the kitchen for local calls," said Mom. "But you are not allowed to make long distance calls without our permission. Jerry, you will still need to ask our permission to make your weekly call home, if you decide to use the option." Jerry nodded.

"On to the matter of privacy," said Dad. "You saw Rebecca's bedroom, I take it?"

"Yes, sir," said Jerry.

"You and Corey are not allowed to enter her bedroom when Becky isn't there," said Dad. "The tour you just had was the sole exception to this rule. Furthermore, you will not enter her room when she is in it without knocking on the door, or asking her permission if the door happens to be open."

"I understand, sir," said Jerry.

"On the other hand," said Mom, "Rebecca is not allowed to enter the loft without getting permission from you or Corey, and not at all when neither of you is up there." Jerry nodded his understanding.

"Mrs. Lane and I may enter the loft whenever we feel the need, of course," said Dad. "But we will try to respect your privacy as much as possible." Jerry nodded again.

"Finally," said Dad, "you are not to enter our master bedroom, or this office, without our express permission, whether or not either of us is in the room. Understand?"

"Yes, sir!" said Jerry.

"Now, on to the related subject of modesty," said Mom. "Your Aunt Betty informs me that back home in Elmira you and your cousin Robby are in the habit of running around the house in your underwear before breakfast, and even in the evenings, at least when you don't have any visitors."

"Yes, Ma'am," said Jerry softly, a flush rising to his cheeks.

Corey could not believe that Mrs. Jones had told his Mom about something like that. Dear God, what kind of things might his mother be telling her friends about him?

"Well that's not the way we do things around here," said Mom. "There is a young, impressionable lady living in this house, who often has other young ladies over to visit. So you boys are not allowed to run around the house in your underwear - or nude, obviously. Whenever you're not in the bathroom or your bedroom - the loft - you are expected to be wearing pants, shorts, pajama bottoms, or at least a bathrobe."

"Of course, Ma'am," said Jerry, still blushing slightly.

"Very well," said Dad. "Now we need to talk about boundaries. "You fellas are teenagers now, and you can rightfully expect a little more personal freedom than younger children would enjoy. But that doesn't mean you can do anything you like. You haven't seen much of Northampton yet, Jerry, so you won't know where most of the boundaries I'm about to explain to you are located. But Corey will take you around after lunch and show you all the boundaries. Right, Corey?"

"Yes, sir," said Corey.

"Very well," said Dad. "I'm sure you saw the 9th Street bridge over to Coplay when we went to church this morning."

"Yes, I did," said Jerry.

"You aren't allowed to go over that bridge - any of the bridges over the Lehigh River, actually - without our specific permission," said Dad. "The river is your western boundary, understood?"

"Yes, sir, I understand" said Jerry.

"To the south, you will not go further than 2nd Street without our specific permission. By which I mean you will stay on this side of 2nd Street - the north side." Jerry nodded.

"To the north, you will not go further than 21st Street without our specific permission. There is a single exception in the case of this boundary. Corey has a savings account at Cement National Bank, which is located on the north side of 21st Street. So you may cross 21st Street at Main Street, but only if you're going to the bank. And Corey better have his passbook with him if we find you guys over there." Jerry nodded again.

"Your eastern boundary is a bit more complicated," said Dad. "It's basically Howertown Road when you're south of Hockendaqua Creek, and the eastern edge of the borough North of the creek."

"Edge of the burro?" said Jerry.

"Borough, B-O-R-O-U-G-H, it's a form of local government we have here in Pennsylvania," said Mom. "Northampton was incorporated as a borough, not a town or city."

"Oh, okay," said Jerry. "I get it. Like the boroughs of New York City."

"Well, yes," said Mom, chuckling. "Only quite a bit smaller."

"Don't worry, Jerry," said Dad. "Corey knows where the boundary of the borough is, and there really isn't any reason I can think of for you guys to head east out of town anyway. The next major town is about eight miles away."

"I understand, sir," said Jerry.

"I know this may sound quite strict to you, Jerry," said Mom. "But we do actually grant permission to go beyond the boundaries whenever there is a good reason."

"For instance," said Dad, "there is a hobby shop over in Coplay where Corey likes to shop. What's it called, son?"

"Tony's Hobby Shop," said Corey.

"Right, Tony's Hobby Shop," said Dad. "Have we ever denied you permission to go over to Tony's when you wanted to?"

"Well..." said Corey, "only when I was grounded or something."

"Correct," said Dad. "So you see, Jerry, we are actually quite lenient about granting special permission to go beyond the boundaries. But we do absolutely insist that you ask for permission before you go beyond the boundaries, not afterwards. Understand?"

"I understand, sir," said Jerry. "That's more than fair."

"Very good," said Dad. "Now we need to talk about the unfortunate topic of discipline."

"Swimming!" said Mom, a determined look on her face.

"Oh, right," said Dad. "I almost forgot, we need to discuss swimming first. Why don't you take this one, dear?"

"Certainly," said Mom. "Jerry, you met Mrs. Hofstetter in Sunday School today?"

"Yes, Ma'am," said Jerry. "Corey and Walt told me about what happened to her son."

"Ah," said Mom, "so then you already know that swimming in the river is absolutely forbidden?"

"Yes, Ma'am," said Jerry.

"Good," said Mom. "We also prefer that you don't swim in the creek or in the canal. The good news is that we have an excellent, and very large, municipal swimming pool here in Northampton. It's open every day during the summer. Mr. Lane and I have purchased a season pool pass for you, Jerry."

"Wow," said Jerry. "Thank you, that's very generous of you, Mrs. Lane. Mr. Lane."

"Not at all, my boy," said Dad.

"We were quite happy to do it," said Mom. "Alright, William, on to the 'unfortunate topic'."

"Right," said Dad. "Discipline. Your Aunt and Uncle told you they had given us permission to punish you as we see fit?"

"Yes, sir," said Jerry. "They were very specific that you should punish me just the same as you would Corey if I got out of line. I agree with them, and will be totally willing to accept any punishment you see fit to give me."

"And I trust that Corey has given you some idea of how we punish him when he's at home?" said Mom.

"Yes, Ma'am," said Jerry, uncertainly. "He has mentioned...one or two things."

"Including the fact that his bottom is always bared for punishment?" said Mom. Corey couldn't believe the direction this was going.

"Yes, Ma'am," said Jerry. "Corey did mention that....fact."

"And you accept the fact that we will do the same to you if it comes to that?" said Dad.

"Yes, sir," said Jerry. "I do accept that fact."

"Very well," said Dad. "We hope that there won't be any need to punish either of you like that this summer."

"Yes sir," said Jerry. "So do I!"

"Me too!" said Corey.

"One last thing," said Dad, "before you fellas go get changed for lunch. Jerry, we have a custom in this family. Each teenager gets a $2.00 per week allowance, paid every Friday evening. Since you didn't get here until Saturday evening, we thought it only fair to give you your allowance for this week now."

Jerry sat there, dumbfounded, as Dad got to his feet and reached in his right pocket. He pulled out $2.00 which he obviously had prepared for the occasion. "Mr. Lane," said Jerry, thickly. "I don't think I really can..."

"Can what?" said Dad.

"I can't really accept your money," said Jerry, he was breathing hard. Corey was getting confused.

"Why on earth not? said Mom.

"I'm not allowed to accept charity..." said Jerry weakly - clearly close to tears.

"Charity?" said Dad. "We prefer to call it hospitality."

"Jerry, dear - are you willing to be a member of this family for the next month or not?" asked Mom - quite tenderly, Corey thought.

Jerry looked hopelessly confused. Corey put his right hand on Jerry's left arm, and when Jerry turned towards him he gave him an encouraging look. "Take it, Jerry," said Corey. "Be my brother for the next few weeks."

Jerrys shoulders collapsed, and then he rose to his feet and reached out to accept the money he was being offered. "Thank you so much, Mr. Lane," said Jerry. "You too, Mrs. Lane."

"You're most welcome, Jerry," said Dad.

"Welcome to the family, Jerry," said Mom. She put a gentle hand on Jerry's shoulder.

Corey could see that Jerry was choking up. "Thank you...all...so much," said Jerry. Suddenly he turned and sprinted from the room.

Corey sat there in amazement as Jerry ran out the door, still clutching the $2.00 in his fist. Corey was really confused. He knew that 2 bucks a week was a fair piece of change for a 13-year-old in this day and age, but what the heck was that all about? He heard Jerry on the steps, running up to their loft bedroom.

Corey turned back towards his parents and shrugged, to let them know he didn't know what was going on. He hoped they wouldn't somehow blame him for this. He stood up. "Maybe I should go talk to him," said Corey.

"Not just yet, Corey," said Dad. "Give him a few minutes alone, okay?"

"Okay," said Corey. He was totally confused.

"Corey," said Mom. "Don't you understand? Jerry is an orphan."

"Sure, Mom," said Corey. "I understand why all the family talk might upset him. But why would two bucks set him off like that. Charity?"

Mom sighed. "Talk to the boy, William. I have to change and then get lunch started."

"Certainly, dear," said Dad. "Sit down, son."

"Oh, and Corey," said Mom as she stopped by the office door.

"Yes, Mom?" said Corey.

"Mrs. Bauer would like you to mow her lawn on Tuesday, front and back."

"Okay, Mom," said Corey.

"You can have Jerry help you, of course," said Mom.

"Sure, Mom," said Corey. He sat down again and hoped that his father could explain what had just happened.