(Author's Note: This is the second story in a series. This story is based on characters and situations introduced in two novel-length series of stories: Camp Torowa Falls and Camp Torowa Falls 1964.
This is a continuation of Camp Torowa Falls 1965, which began with Chapter 1: Architects of Disaster. You should probably read Chapter 1 of this story first!)
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Corey and Jerry were only allowed to sit on pillows at meal times for one day after their "double dips" caning. Becky was smuggly delighted with their pain as they coped with their stripes for the next couple of days. For his part, Corey couldn't wait until the smug little brat got her first caning. He would delight in watching her suffer through sitting on her own stripes at the dinner table for a few days afterwards.

In fact the two friend's striped bottoms caused quite a stir in the Men's Locker Room and showers at the Northampton Municipal Pool. The boys there were quite used to seeing marks left by recent punishments on the hind cheeks of their fellows. But nobody there had ever seen the vivid red stripes left by six recent strokes of a rattan cane before. Corey and Jerry had been grounded for nearly a week after their caning the previous July and their stripes had largely faded by the time they made it back to the pool showers.

This time the two friends had not been grounded, and their stripes were still in full bloom when they undressed in the locker room before and after their Thursday session in the pool. Corey and Jerry had known this would be a bit embarassing, but their funds had been cut off and they needed cheap entertainment. Their season pool passes were already paid for, so they'd be spending a lot of time there until the damages and allowance situation was resolved.

Corey, Jerry and Walt Eckert, Corey's 14-year-old second cousin, left the pool around the same time as some of the staff on the afternoon of Thursday, July 1st. As the three boys unlocked their bikes from the rack outside the pool house they were approached by Tom Shoemaker, a college student who was working as one of the life guards at the pool that summer. Tom looked closely at Jerry's ride and said, "Jerry, where did you get that bike?"

"It belongs to Corey's father," said Jerry, his hand caressing the almost-new Schwinn Black Phantom. "Mr. Lane is letting me use it while I visit Corey."

"Weird," said Tom, rubbing the scraggly beard he was trying to grow. "I knew somebody who used to own a bike just like that."

"Who?" said Corey.

"Joey Hofstetter," said Tom.

"The Joey Hofstetter?" said Walt, "The boy who drowned in the Lehigh River years ago?"

"The very same," said Tom, a sad look on his face. "Joey was my best friend. He got a Black Phantom for his twelfth birthday."

"Wow!" said Walt. "Corey, didn't you say your Dad bought that bike from someone at church?"

"Yep," said Corey. "I guess it must have been the Hofstetters."

"Joey was so proud of that bike. He only had it a couple months before...." Tom choked up at the memory and couldn't continue. After a few seconds of very uncomfortable silence the young man regained his composure. "Anyway, take good care of it, Jerry."

"I will, Tom," said Jerry, who seemed a bit choked up with emotion too. Tom took one more long look at the bike, then walked away.

"That was a little spooky," said Corey as the three boys rode home.

"Yeah!" said Walt. "Imagine... riding a dead boy's bicycle."

Jerry looked a bit pale and didn't say anything. Finally Corey said, "Are you okay, Jerry?"

"Sure," said Jerry, looking and sounding very unenthusiastic.

Corey figured that Jerry must be thinking of what it must be like to lose your best friend when you're only twelve years old. Corey knew he couldn't cope with the idea of losing Jerry at any age, and stopped his mind from going down that path. This gave Corey pause for thought. Since this topic was upsetting for him, what must it be like for Jerry?

As an orphan who had lost his parents at a very early age, Jerry could be very sensitive about some things that didn't really phase Corey at all. He decided not to bring up the subject again.. let Jerry work it out at his own pace. Corey was confident that Jerry would talk to him about it when he was ready.

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Dinner on Thursday night was a quiet, subdued affair. Jerry still wasn't ready to talk about the bike... or anything else it seemed. Becky spent most of her time staring at Jerry. Uh, oh. Corey immediately became concerned that Becky was worried about Jerry being so glum. She might just try to cheer him up and upset Jerry even more, though their guest would probably be too polite to tell her to buzz off.

Corey sat there quietly eating while trying to figure out how to convince Becky to leave Jerry alone with his thoughts, preferrably while avoiding getting into a fight with his crazy sister. He did not want to give his father another reason to cane him that summer.

Speaking of his father, the man had a rather bemused expression on his face as he ate dinner... so did Corey's mother, for that matter. Corey suspected they were enjoying this unusually quiet interlude, which they probably preferred to the usual verbal jousting between the three young teens.

As Corey sat there chewing and looking at Becky, still trying to figure out how to get her to leave Jerry alone with his thoughts, he gradually realized that she had a very odd expression on her face as she stared at Jerry. What was that expression? Suddenly Corey realized that it was a look of moon-eyed infatuation that his little sister was giving his best friend... and then he found himself choking on his food.

Corey quickly realized he was in real trouble. Whatever was stuck in his throat, he couldn't seem to get it out. He couldn't cough, he couldn't breathe. Corey was vaguely aware of confused yelling and people touching him as he fought for his life. His vision was beginning to black out around the edges when his father finally managed to dislodge the obstruction. Dad accomplished this with a sharp slap to Corey's back that caused what turned out to be a piece of pork chop to shoot out of his open mouth and fly across the table where it landed on Becky's plate. She threw a fit over this, which might have caused Corey to laugh at her if he hadn't been too busy coughing and struggling to get his breath back.

The choking incident ended dinner, or at least it did for Corey. His throat was irritated, he had a headache and he suddenly felt very tired. He didn't feel up to eating anything else, even dessert. His mother was quite concerned about this since she had made blueberry crumb pie - made with fresh blueberries, not the canned pie filling - one of her son's favorite desserts. In fact Corey wasn't even willing to try to eat any of the vanilla ice cream she had purchased to go on top of the pie.

Mom actually suggested taking Corey to the local hospital emergency room to have his throat checked out. Dad assured her that wouldn't be necessary. Instead he asked Jerry to escort Corey up to their loft bedroom, and then "keep an eye on him" for a few hours to make sure he didn't get into any kind of distress. Jerry immediately agreed to this plan of action and assured "Uncle Will" and "Aunt Penny" that he would keep an eye on Corey while he rested.

Mom insisted that Corey take an aspirin tablet for his headache, "and to make sure he can still swallow things" before allowing Jerry to escort him upstairs. Dad readily agreed to this precaution and actually fetched the aspirin.

Corey thought everyone was being way too cautious about this situation, well, everyone except Becky. Unfortunately he found himself too tired to protest when Jerry steadied him as they climbed the stairs. It was finally too much to bear when they were safely back in their bedroom and Jerry tried to tuck him into bed. Corey pushed away his friend's helping hands and protested, "Leave me alone, I just need a nap!"

"Okay, my friend," said Jerry in a calm voice. "I'll be here if you need me."

Corey didn't trust himself to speak, so he simply rolled over towards the wall and almost immediately fell asleep.

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When Corey woke up the first thing he noticed was that it was fairly dark in the room. A glance at the windows confirmed that the final rays of the sun must be fading into the west. It was nearly full dark outside. The second thing he noticed was Jerry, sitting at Corey's desk, in Corey's desk chair, facing Corey's bed, reading a book by the light of the desk lamp.

When Jerry noticed that Corey was awake he put a marker in his book and set it aside on the desk. "So, how are you feeling?"

"Better," croaked Corey. He coughed a couple of times to clear his throat and then said clearly, "Much better, in fact. The headache is gone and my throat is barely sore anymore."

"That's excellent news!" said Jerry as he rose to his feet. "I need to dash down to the office real quick. I promised your parents I'd tell them when you woke up."

"Which explains why you're still wearing your bermuda shorts at this time of night, I suppose."

Jerry laughed. "Well that, and the fact that this place has been like Grand Central Station at rush hour since you went to sleep. Even Becky came up to check on you."

"And you, no doubt," said Corey, smirking.

Jerry chuckled wryly, "Yeah, there is that, too." He paused in thought for a few seconds. "How do you feel about that, big brother?"

"That Becky has a crush on you?" Corey laughed. "All I can do is warn you that she's crazy as a loon, in case you hadn't already worked that out on your own. But if you decide you want to deal with that for the rest of your life, then the best of luck to you, cause you're gonna need it."

"You make it sound soooo tempting," said Jerry, sarcastically. "Lucky for me that kind of decision is still years in the future, so I'm not gonna sweat it too much. Lemme go tell your parents you're awake... and you should prepare for visitors."

"Okey doke," said Corey as he swung his legs out of bed and started looking around for his bermuda shorts. Then he realised that he was still wearing them. Wow! How far out of it had he been after that choking incident?

The answer to that question turned out to be: far enough out of it to actually scare his mother, which was not an easy thing to do. A Certified Public Accountant, Penelope Lane was fond of saying, on the topic of fear, that "once you've faced down an IRS auditor while representing clients with a few interesting entries on their tax returns, there is very little left to fear in this world."

Apparently witnessing your first born child nearly choke to death at the dinner table was on that short list of things more frightening than an IRS auditor. A few minutes after Jerry went downstairs Corey's mother appeared at the top of the stairs, a look of grave concern on her face. Mom insisted on checking Corey over quite thoroughly, despite his protests that he felt fine.

While that was going on Jerry crested the stairs into the room. He was carefully carrying a tray with two small bowls of ice cream and two glasses of iced tea. Since the boys had both missed dessert, Mom aimed to correct that situation. In fact she insisted on watching Corey eat his ice cream, which made him feel more than a little self-concsious.

Eventually Mom was satisfied that her son really was okay. She hugged him tight and kissed him goodnight. Then she exchanged "goodnights" with Jerry (sans the hugging and kissing) before heading back downstairs.

After they heard the door close at the bottom of the stairs Jerry said, "Do you want to talk about anything, or should I go back to reading my book?"

Corey rubbed his forehead. "What is that book you're reading anyway, a Marine Corps memoir or a novel?"

Jerry bristled slightly at the question. "I do read other stuff, you know. In this case I'm reading a collection of short stories, not a novel."

"Oooo, short stories," said Corey, with tongue planted firmly in cheek. "Look at Jerome Farnham, getting all literary on us. I'm impressed. So who is it, Fitzgerald? Steinbeck?"

"That's right," said Jerry, "you actually read Steinbeck for recreation."

"Well..." said Corey, coughing a bit in embarrassment, "it was only Travels With Charley, but we had already read Of Mice and Men in school.

"What about The Grapes of Wrath?"

"Well, from what I've heard about that book, it's not the kind of thing I'd want to read for recreation," said Corey, "though I'm certain I'll have to read it for English class sometime in high school."

"That's a sure bet," said Jerry. He seemed to drift off into a thoughtful silence at that point.

Corey wasn't buying it, "So, nice try at changing the subject. Who wrote the book you're reading?"

Jerry shook his head and rolled his eyes, "Okay, you got me. It's For Your Eyes Only by Ian Fleming.

"Ian Fleming? The 007 guy?"

"Yep," said Jerry, "it's a collection of short stories featuring James Bond as agent 007."

"That's okay," said Corey. "It's summer and you're off from school, you can read anything you want."

"I know," said Jerry shaking his head. "But I worry that I'm screwing my chances of getting into the Naval Academy."

Corey groaned in frustration. "How many times do I have to tell you? You're plenty smart enough to get into the Academy. Besides, while I'm sure the Academy application form is quite extensive and thorough, I seriously doubt they ask you what books you read the summer before high school."

"I just hope you're right... on both counts," said Jerry. "Anyway, enough about my reading habits. I think I spotted Walter Lord's name on the cover of that book you've been reading. So, another history book?"

"Yes," said Corey. "A Time To Stand by Walter Lord. It's about the Battle of the Alamo."

"Sheesh!" said Jerry. "That guy wrote books about Pearl Harbor and the Alamo. Does he ever write books about battles we've actually won?"

Corey collapsed into helpless gales of laughter at that joke. It had been a long day that included an unexpected brush with death, so he really needed the stress release. Eventually, when he was able to speak again he said, "Next up from Walter Lord, Custer's Last Stand!"

That set Jerry off laughing, and he eventually countered with, "The Bay of Pigs!"

Corey laughed even harder. Eventually he got his breath back again, "Which raises an interesting question. Why would you name a bay the 'Bay of Pigs'?"

Jerry answered, between laughs, "That's easy.... the pig fishing must be really good there!"

"Enough!" said Corey after he got his breath back yet again, "this is getting too weird now, plus I'm gonna piss my pants if I don't get to the bathroom real soon."

"By all means, get your ass downstairs," said Jerry as Corey stood and headed for the stairs, "The last thing I wanna do is sleep in a bedroom that smells like a latrine."

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Corey's mother seemed to have calmed down a lot by Friday morning. She did stick around long enough to make sure that Corey was able to eat his breakfast before leaving. She informed the boys that she had saved them the last two slices of blueberry pie since they had missed it at dinner the previous evening. Becky had talked their mom into taking her and a couple of her girlfriends shopping down in Allentown. As a parting shot before leaving with the girls, Mom announced that Corey was forbidden from visiting the swimming pool that day, "just as a precaution".

Corey's protests fell on deaf ears, and to add insult to injury the boys could hear Becky regaling her friends with the tale of how her brother and Jerry had "destroyed Mrs. Bauer's garden and been caned for it" as the shoppers walked out the front door and then down the front steps to the sidewalk, where Mom's car was parked at the curb.

"I'm just glad Mom has her own car now," said Corey as they climbed the stairs back to their bedroom. "So she can take Becky as far away from me as possible as often as possible."

Jerry chuckled. "I was kind of surprised to find out that your Dad has a new car, that seems a bit out of character for him."

"Why?" said Corey, "Because he's cheap?"

"I wouldn't put that way," said Jerry, coughing uncomfortably. "More like thrifty, which is no bad thing."

"True," said Corey, "My Dad is thrifty, that's for sure. In fact he didn't buy his new car - it was leased for him by his company. They even cover the maintenace on it. I think he only has to pay for the gasoline he uses."

"Wow!" said Jerry. "His company leased him a 1965 Ford Galaxie 500 LTD 4-door hardtop, with the big V-8 engine?"

"Well, yeah," said Corey, as they crested the stairs in their bedroom. "My Dad is the District Manager for the Erie Insurance Group, which makes him some kind of executive. I guess they wanted him to have a bigger, fancier car than he was willing to buy on his own."

"It's a nice deal," said Jerry, "but I guess your Dad does a lot of driving for his job."

"He sure does," said Corey. "By the way, his LTD doesn't have the biggest available engine. I think they offer a 427 V-8, but his car has the 352 V-8. He actually likes that better since it burns less gas."

"And that leaves the old Falcon station wagon for your Mom to use."

"Yep," said Corey. "Her bosses at work are really happy about that. Now she doesn't have to borrow a car from one of the partners when she needs to go out and visit a client."

"That makes sense," said Jerry. "So, what do you want to do today since we're beached?"

Corey picked up his guitar and sat down at his desk. "I was planning to practice guitar for a while, then maybe we could go out for a bike ride... if you don't object?"

Jerry took a deep breath. "No, I don't mind. It's just a bicycle. It doesn't matter who used to own it. If the kid had died crashing the bike or something like that I might feel differently. But that bike didn't cause Joey to drown."

"I'm so glad to hear you say that," said Corey as he tuned his guitar. "Because it looks like cycling is the only free outdoor activity we have left to us today."

"More or less," said Jerry as he walked down to his own end of the bedroom... apparently to find something to occupy himself with until Corey finished with guitar practice.

Corey wasn't sure what Jerry meant by that, but he shook it off and began practicing one of the songs he was learning, "Today" by Randy Sparks of the New Christy Minstrels.

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"So, where to first?" said Jerry as they coasted their bikes down the 9th Street hill. "Do you want to swing by the pool so I can run in and tell Walt and the others why we can't swim today?"

"Nah," said Corey, after a few seconds of thought. "If they really want to know they can stop by our house later and visit. Besides, if any of Becky's friends or classmates tell her they saw us within a half mile of the pool today, the little creep will try to get me in trouble with Mom."

"I see your point," said Jerry. "So we should just head up town?"

"Yeah, let's see what's playing at the Roxy Theater. Yes, I know," said Corey as Jerry began to object. "Our cash has been cut off until the Mrs. Bauer thing is resolved. But at least we should know what will be playing in case we do get our allowance back this summer."

Jerry simply shrugged in response and kept pedalling.

When they got uptown, the Roxy Theater marquee was advertising Major Dundee starring Charlton Heston and Richard Harris.

"I guess I'd be willing to see that one," said Jerry, "provided we have the money."

"Yeah, I'd be willing, too," said Corey. "Though the one I really want to see is the next 'Coming Soon' film, In Harm's Way starring John Wayne and Kirk Douglas.

"Wait," said Jerry, "didn't you tell me you'd already seen In Harm's Way?"

"I sure did," said Corey. "Dad took me to see it when it first came out in March. It is a navy film, after all. But that movie is so good I'd go see it again every day it was playing at the Roxy this summer... if I could afford it."

"Wow! It's really that good?" said Jerry as they pedalled up Main Street away from the Roxy.

"Even better than that," said Corey. The two friends fell silent as they passed the M&N Luncheonette, yet another local business they had no money to patronize.

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"What's wrong?" asked Jerry as they cruised down 21st Street towards the Lehigh River. "Corey!"

"Huh, what?" said Corey, who was looking around, trying to locate the source of a sound he started hearing several minutes earlier.

"You've been acting really weird for the past 15 minutes or so," said Jerry, "apart from that brief stint of normality at the Roxy. What's wrong?"

"I'm just looking around, trying to figure out where that sound is coming from."

"What sound?" said Jerry, looking at Corey very closely.

"Umm," said Corey. "I'm not really sure... it's probably nothing."

"Nothing, eh," said Jerry, a strangely bemused look on his face. "Nothing as in a 12-year-old boy laughing?"

Corey swerved and nearly fell off his bike as he skidded to a stop. He looked at Jerry, who had smoothly brought the Black Phantom to a halt. "So, you heard it too?"

"Oh yes."

"Where is it coming from?" said Corey, starting to become a bit impatient with the smuggly bemused look on his friend's face.

"As near as I can tell, it's coming from here," said Jerry as he placed his hand on the Black Phantom.

"What?" said Corey. "That thing has some kind of speaker on it?"

"No," said Jerry. "I don't think the person laughing needs a speaker to be heard... at least not anymore."

"Oh, come on, Jerry!" said Corey once he worked out what his friend was implying. "There has to be a reasonable explanation that doesn't involve ghosts."

"Really?" said Jerry. "Go ahead then, I'm all ears."

Corey heard the laughing boy again at that point, and from Jerry's expression, he had clearly hear him too. Corey began looking around again. "Could he be driving on a parallel street, or hiding behind the buildings?"

"All over Northampton?" said Jerry, "Including the alley behind your house. And across two summers?"

"Across two summers?" said Corey. "How long have you been hearing this laughter?"

"I've been hearing it off an on since I started riding this bike last summer," said Jerry. "But only when riding the Black Phantom. Are you saying you didn't hear it last year?"

"Last year?" said Corey. "I first heard it today... within the last 30 minutes."

"Interesting."

"Wait!" said Corey. "If you've been hearing a disembodied boy laughing when riding that thing since last summer, why didn't you say anything before today?"

"I just thought I was hearing things, since apparently you and Walt didn't hear it," said Jerry. "I wasn't all that concerned really until Tom Shoemaker told us who used to own this thing."

Corey rubbed his temple, "So, let me get this straight. You've been hearing a disembodied voice and you weren't all that concerned about it?"

Jerry shrugged. "It's not like I was hearing it all the time... at home, at school, or at camp. I only heard it when I was here visiting you and riding this bike. Like you, I thought some kid might be playing a prank on me... until Tom told us about Joey owning this bike. Since then I realized who it was who is laughing."

Almost as if to punctuate Jerry's point, the laughing boy was heard again by both friends.

"Okay," said Corey hesitantly, "let's assume for a minute that the Black Phantom really is haunted. That doesn't worry you at all? You're still riding it."

Jerry shrugged again. "I haven't felt threatened by the voice, which is always laughing. I've come to the conclusion that he is a happy, friendly spirit."

"Like Casper?" said Corey.

This time the laughter was almost a giggle.

Jerry grinned, "Yes, I'd say exactly like Casper."

Corey got back on his bike and started pedalling. "At this point I'm hoping that I'm still asleep in my bed on Thursday night and this is all a weird dream caused by a temporary lack of oxygen to my brain."

Jerry and Joey both responded with laughter. Corey rolled his eyes but held his tongue.

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"Did you ever have an imaginary friend before?" said Corey as they rode south on Canal Street along the canal.

Jerry groaned. "He's not imaginary if you can hear him, too."

"I guess you have a point," said Corey. He noticed the impatient look Jerry was giving him. "Sorry my friend, but this is all new territory for me."

Jerry laughed, "It's not exactly familiar territory for me, either."

"What should we do about this?"

Jerry laughed again, "Why do we need to do anything? As long as Joey is being friendly, we just need to get used to having his company when we're out bike riding."

"Sweet Jesus," said Corey, shaking his head. "I can't believe we're actually having this conversation. But I suppose you're right."

Joey's laughter was heard once again.

"Okay," said Corey, looking at the Black Phantom. "I get the point."

"You just talked to a ghost!" said Jerry, in an obviously tongue in cheek taunt.

"I know," said Corey, shaking his head as if to clear it. "I really do hope this is all a dream."

As they cycled further south on Canal Street, they approached the point where the road curved gently away from the canal and the river. The extra space between the road and canal was filled with clusters of trees. Eventually they started hearing several young boys laughing. They slowed their bikes and looked at each other, then they looked down at the Black Phantom. But this was different. When they heard Joey's laughter it sounded like it came from their immediate vicinity - from the Black Phantom itself, or from within a few feet of it. As they slowly moved along it became clear that the group laughter was coming from beyond the trees, from the area around the canal or the river.

This new mystery was finally solved when they passed a gap between clusters of trees where they could see a gaggle of younger boys playing and swimming in the Lehigh Canal, which ran parallel to the Lehigh River.

About 100 or so feet further south Jerry said, "Hold up a sec." Both boys braked to a stop next to a largish cluster of trees.

Corey looked at Jerry expectantly. Jerry said, "It's a beautiful day and we're not allowed to swim in the pool."

"Yes...."

"Why don't we go for a dip in the river?" said Jerry, as if this was the most natural suggestion in the world.

"I don't know," said Corey, who was beginning to feel like he was stuck in some very bizarre movie with a really bad script. "Where do I start? Oh, I know! If we get caught swimming in the river my Mom will skin us both alive, or have Dad do it for her. Sunday is July 4th, so we will likely be grounded over Independence Day weekend. There is a bunch of noisy younger kids just a few yards north of here who are likely to draw a lot of unwanted adult attention to this area. Finally, you are riding a bicycle that belonged to, and may well be haunted by, the last kid to drown in the river here in Northampton. Does any of this discourage you at all?"

Jerry simply smiled, shrugged, and said, "Semper Fi!"

"Semper Fi?" said Corey. Just when he thought this script couldn't get any worse. "Yes, Jerry, you are 'Always Faithful'. I do trust you completely, and you will make a great Marine Corps officer some day. But what the hell does that have to do with our current situation? Do you seriously believe that my parents will accept that as an excuse why were caught swimming in the river?"

"Why do you always assume we're gonna get caught?" said Jerry. This question was punctuated by more disembodied laughter.

Corey pointed at a non-specific spot in the air where the laughter seemed to come from and said, "You stay out of this, Joey." Then he looked at Jerry, who seemed ready to burst into laughter. "How many times have we broken a serious rule and not got caught?"

"Sometimes you just have to take some chances," said Jerry. "You need to be bolder if you expect to command a Navy fighter squadron or warship someday."

Corey briefly considered the irony of receiving a pep talk from Jerry, who had needed a pep talk of his own the previous summer from Jeff Paulsen, their camp counselor. Then he realized, to his considerable alarm, that Jerry's arguments were beginning to make sense to him. Corey shook his head, mostly in disbelief, then said, "What the hell, let's at least have a look."

Corey studiously ignored the burst of laughter from Joey that seemed to answer his declaration, dismounted and proceeded to hide his bike in the nearby cluster of trees. Jerry followed suit, and then began disrobing. "Whoa!" said Corey. "Wait just a minute. When I said 'let's have a look' I meant the river and canal, not you."

"Very funny," said Jerry. "So you're not going in swimming?"

"Not until we've scouted the area," said Corey, "with our clothes on. Maybe I do need to learn to take a few more chances, but I sure don't need to learn to take insanely stupid chances."

Jerry looked a bit irritated, but he said, "Great, have it your way." He pulled his shorts back up and redid his zipper and belt.

They emerged from the western edge of the tree cluster and were rewarded with a panoramic view of the remains of the long-defunct Lehigh Canal, with the Newport Lock and Pumphouse located nearly 200 feet to the south. Beyond the canal was the Lehigh River, which was running at what Corey judged to be just slightly less than average depth and speed for that waterway in mid-Summer.

"Well," said Corey, "at least the river doesn't look to be running too high or fast. But there should be plenty of water depth to swim in."

"That's the spirit!" said Jerry, slapping Corey on the back.

"Owwch!" yelped Corey, "Watch the back, please. It's still a bit tender where Dad slapped me to stop the choking."

"Oh, sorry," said Jerry.

"That's okay," said Corey. He thought for a few seconds. "Hey, I haven't heard the laughter since we left the bikes. How close to the Black Phantom do you have to be to hear him laughing?"

"I actually have to be riding the bike for the laughter to start. Once it's started I just have to be touching the bike for it to continue."

"Weird." said Corey. "But we're still getting plenty of laughter and giggling from that bunch." He indicated the party of younger boys who were playing in the canal about 100 feet to the north. It looked like there were 9 or 10 of the little guys who were skinny dipping.

"Yeah," said Jerry, who was suddenly looking at bit somber and distracted.

"What's wrong?"

"Oh, nothing," said Jerry. He was quiet for a few seconds. "Actually, I was wondering if I'm trying to push you too hard to go swimming in the river today. Your Mom could be right. You did have a near-death experience last night. How do you really feel right now?"

"That's not a problem," said Corey, with a dismissive wave of his hand. "I can easily handle swimming in the river from a physical standpoint. It's the getting caught part I'm worried about."

"Okay," said Jerry. He walked a few feet north and stood there watching the younger kids frolicking in the canal. "What do you think the chances are of those kids drawing adult attention to this area?"

As Corey moved north to join Jerry three adults (a man and two women) actually appeared from the trees about fifty feet north and began moving directly towards the canal and the frolicking youngsters. Corey said, "I'd say the chances are 100 percent."

Both friends shared a quiet laugh at the timing. Then they moved silently towards the nearest gap in the trees. They found a position where they could watch the drama play out a few feet to the north while remaining largely hidden from sight themselves.

Drama was about to hit the merry, unsuspecting band of boys like a ton of bricks. Three of them scattered when the adults made their presence known. Corey couldn't imagine where the little guys, who looked to be in the 8-10 year old range, were expecting to go without their clothes. Of course he had no idea where their clothes were hidden, so maybe they'd be okay if they hadn't been recognized by any of the adults.

The other seven boys were well and truly caught by members of their families. One lady grabbed her 11-yr-old grandson by the ear and marched him back into the nearby trees. The other lady grabbed an ear of each of her sons, who looked to be about 8 and 10 years old, and led them back into the trees while lecturing them about safety and cleanliness.

This left the large, grey-haired man facing down his four young grandsons. He ordered them out of the canal and made them stand in line at attention. The boys were naked and appeared very dark-skinned considering they lived in a town with an African-American population of zero.

"Wow," whispered Jerry, "those kids look like they rolled around in fireplace ashes."

Corey chuckled quietly and whispered, "I told you about the coal dust. That's why I would never go swimming in the canal again."

"I don't blame you," whispered Jerry. They watched the man march up and down, bawling out his grandsons for their selfishness and thoughtlessness. "Who is that guy?"

"Mr. Kerekes," whispered Corey. "He used to own the Sinclair service station at 17th and Main. His sons run it now."

After Mr. Kerekes was done lecturing his grandsons, he took off his belt. This action caused the four nervous boys to get nearly frantic looks on their faces.

The youngest lad, who appeared to be about 8-years-old, began crying even before he was obliged to turn around and bend over to receive a hearty collection of whacks from the big man's leather belt. The bawling youngster was unable to maintain the required position and ended up being held against his grandfather's hip while the flailing belt continued to redden his writhing bottom as he howled and kicked.

The next lad, who looked to be approximately 10-years-old, actually tried to dodge his grandfather when his turn arrived. But the old man was deceptively quick and soon had the rebelious lad tight up against his left hip while his strong right arm slashed the leather belt into his grandson's naughty, squirming bottom.

Once the 10-year-old was released he rubbed his bottom delicately for a while, then he took the arm of his still-squalling little brother and led him back into the trees. Presumably they were headed for their clothes.

The next grandson, who was about 11-years-old, bravely bent over and presented his bottom to the big man and his belt. As the slashing leather did its punitive work the boy tried to maintain the proper position, but eventually he was unable to do so and his punishment ended with the lad held against his grandfather's hip while his wriggling bottom was turned a dangerous shade of red and the boy was reduced to a howling fountain of tears.

After his thrashing the third boy stood nearby sobbing and methodically rubbing his aching bottom while his 12-year-old brother took his place on the firing line. The oldest boy was able to maintain position throughout his thrashing although by the end he was screaming in pain after every slashing lick of the heavy leather to his tender pubescent backside.

During the last two thrashings Corey noticed how bright red the boyish bottoms were turned even though they had been nearly black from coal dust stuck to the skin before the punishments began. He wondered if the leather belt actually knocked the coal dust off their bottoms, or if the skin was just so bright red by the end of the thrashing that it shone right through the dust.

Eventually the punishments were over and the two sobbing older boys limped back into the trees rubbing their inflamed bottoms. They were escorted by their angry grandfather.

----------------------------------------------

After the Kerekes family disappeared into the trees Corey scanned the canal and river to both the north and south. It appeared that the coast was clear, at least for the moment. He turned to Jerry, "So, are you discouraged yet?"

Jerry chuckled, "Why should I be discouraged? Those kids were making so much racket that anyone passing on Canal Street could hear them. We certainly did. If we're in the river not making much noise it's unlikely anyone will hear us... or catch us."

Corey was forced to admit to himself that Jerry had a point. "Okay. we should at least take a quick dip in the river to cool off." He began moving back into the trees towards where they had hidden their bicycles.

Jerry followed along behind. He said, "Where do we want to leave our clothes?"

"We should hang them on our bikes," said Corey. "The last thing we need is to have two different places where we have to find our stuff, just in case someone is trying to bust us."

"Okey doke," said Jerry. He took off his shirt and began disrobing again when they got to their bikes. Corey followed suit.

Jerry mounted the Black Phantom and backed it further into the trees. "There," he said when he was done. "It's less likely to be spotted from the street." Joey's laughter was heard in response to this statement.

"Hmm," said Corey, "I hope that means he agrees with you."

"Yeah," said Jerry as he started to dismount from the bike. "Joey, do us a favor, buddy. Keep an eye on our bikes while we're gone. We won't be long." A giggle was heard in response.

As they prepared to cross the canal on the way to the river, Jerry said, "How do we avoid getting coal dust on our feet and legs as we cross?"

"We don't. But most of it will wash off when we swim in the river."

"I see your point," said Jerry after they crossed the canal and climbed back out the far side. "It's not too bad. Only thing is, what do we do about any coal dust we pick up on the way back across?"

"Oh yeah," said Corey, as he dipped his toes in the cool river water, "I forgot about that. Worst case scenario, we could cross back over down there by the Newport Lock. Last time Walt and I swam in the river we walked back across the top of the lock gate. Hopefully it's still in good enough shape to support our weight."

Jerry looked down river, where the lock and pumphouse were located about 200 feet down river. "That's quite a distance to get back to the bikes."

"True," said Corey. "But we can move from cluster of trees to cluster of trees working our way back north while staying fairly well hidden."

As they began swimming in the river, Corey quickly realized that the river was flowing somewhat faster than he had estimated from shore. Since they were gonna be pulled downstream towards the lock in any event, Corey said, "If we try to swim upstream we're gonna eventually get exhausted and get in trouble."

"Good point," said Jerry. Suddenly he did a double-take and pointed to the north. He whispered, "Uh, oh, a cop."

"That's not a regular cop," whispered Corey as he observed the man walking south along the canal. "He's a Pennsylvania State Fish and Game Warden. He's probably just looking for people who are fishing without a license."

"Lucky we're not fishing," said Jerry.

"True," said Corey. "Chances are he won't report us to our parents since swimming in the river is not technically illegal."

"Are you sure about that?" said Jerry.

"Umm, not absolutely sure, no."

"Lets's stay ahead of him," said Jerry as he began to swim directly down river with the current. Corey followed him.

They pulled fairly far ahead of the warden, who was strolling south along the canal. "Let's hide behind this pipe," said Corey as they reached the ancient concrete pipe that used to allow the brick pumphouse to pump water out of the river - or pump it back in the river as needed.

They hid behind the pipe and watched the warden continue to approach. Corey was hoping that the guy didn't decide to cross over to the riverbank by the lock - because he would be likely to spot them at that point. In fact the warden walked down as far as the lock, then after doing a visual sweep of the area around the lock he turned around and began heading back north.

"Good," whispered Jerry. "We're gonna get away with it."

"I sure hope so," said Corey. "We don't know where he has his car."

Once the warden had moved a decent distance north, Corey led Jerry as they crossed the lock gate back across to the east bank of the canal. As they dashed into the nearest cluster of trees another Fish and Game Warden appeared on the canal bank just north of the first warden.

"Uh, oh!" said Jerry. I think the second guy spotted us as we entered the trees.

"Terrific!" said Corey. They peeked out from the trees and sure enough the two wardens had joined up and were walking south along the canal.

"Shit!" said Jerry, "They're on to us." They both moved back into the denser part of their tree cluster.

"How far do you think it is to where we left our bikes?" said Corey. He was wondering if they could avoid the wardens by moving through the tree clusters closer to the road.

Jerry suddenly had a stunned look on his face. "I'd say not very far." He pointed behind Corey.

Corey turned and was completely stunned. Their bikes were hidden in this cluster of trees, which was something like 200 feet south of where they had actually left them.

Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, Corey quickly headed for his bike, followed by Jerry. As they raced to put their clothes back on, Corey was trying to figure out if there was a logical explanation for this situation, but of course there was none. They pushed their bikes out of hiding and back on to Canal Street where they mounted up and took off south as fast as they could pedal.

Joey laughed as they got down to 14th Street and turned left to head across town away from the river. "Thanks for the help, Joey," said Jerry.

"Yeah, thanks Joey," said Corey. "We owe you one." There was a raucous round of disembodied laughter in response. Oddly it seemed to fade off into the distance towards the river, an effect Corey had not heard before. From the look on Jerry's face, he found it odd, too. They both shrugged and continued to pedal furiously.

Once they were headed south on Newport Avenue they slowed down. Even if the wardens showed up, it would be hard for them to prove that the two teens had been swimming in the river. In fact they made it back to the Lane garage on Plum Alley without any further incident. They put their bikes away and headed into the house.

Noone else was home, so they ate their blueberry pie, which was excellent, then went back up to their bedroom. "Should we tell anyone about Joey?" said Jerry once they were safely back in their lair.

"I don't see any reason to do that," said Corey. "We've established that he is a friendly, even helpful spirit. So it's really nobody else's business."

"Agreed," said Jerry. "But what happens if your Dad decides to actually ride the Black Phantom sometime when I'm not using it?"

"I dunno," said Corey. "Maybe Joey only communicates with other kids who are riding the bike?"

"I hope so," said Jerry.

"I'll tell you one thing, my friend," said Corey, "this has been the single weirdest day of my entire life. And that's saying something considering all the crazy stuff that has happened over the past few years."

"I hear ya, buddy," said Jerry. "The same goes for me."