I'd been having bad luck at the tables all day. Craps usually treated me better, but it was obvious
that this was not my day. I was also three-hundred dollars over what I'd allowed myself to lose.
That meant that there would be hell to pay when it came time to explain why I wouldn't be able to
repay my travel expense fund until my next payday. 

My boss had always been reasonable about my gambling. I thought that a bit odd, since I knew
that her ex-husband suffered from the addiction. I don't know if mine could really be called an
addiction though. Perhaps a bad case of ‘no self control' would be a better way of putting it.
Anyway, I called Helen and explained my situation.

I was pretty sure that Helen was joking when she told me that I was fired. I chuckled a bit and
then asked her if she was serious. As it turned out, she couldn't have been more serious. "Gary,
I'm afraid that Mr. Adams is making this decision." Her reply was direct, but there was a touch of
real sympathy in her voice. I asked, "You mean I seriously don't have a job anymore?" She
affirmed my question with, "Gary, Mr. Adams is signing your final check and it will be locked in
my desk until you get back." I stood dumbfounded at the lobby phone and listened as she
continued, "You know that he warned all of the employees that unauthorized advances would be
grounds for termination." 

I had to think quickly and asked, "So I'm losing my job because of a lousy hundred bucks? . . .
What if I can get the money before I come back? . . . Will I still be fired?" The phone was silent,
and then Helen answered, "What you do with your money is nobody's business but your own."
She paused again and this time I heard her putting her hand over the receiver. She was asking her
boss what to do. I clearly heard Mr. Adams say, "He's such a screw up . . . If I don't get him this
time, I'll just send him to Vegas again and I'll get him next time." Then Helen removed her hand
and said, "Have a nice flight home."

That was it. Don Adams was nothing more than a whining little wimp of a man. His uncle had
gotten him the job, and I wasn't afraid to tell him about his lack of knowledge. It was stupid of
me, but I just didn't do well with taking shit from little pencil necked dick yankers like Don. I
mean, he's what the kid who was always telling on other kids in school grows into being. He
doesn't have a mind of his own, so he has to make everyone else look bad in order to boost his
own image. The big problem was that he had a valid reason to fire me if I didn't get three hundred
dollars within the next four hours.

I withdrew the last of my credit line from the A.T.M. in the casino. That gave me a hundred and
eighty dollars to work with. I'd made up money before, but never when my luck was running this
badly. 

The Blackjack tables were brutal. In less than twenty minutes, I'd dropped a hundred and ten
dollars. Craps was my game, but it was the reason that was in the mess to begin with. With
Blackjack treating me as unfairly as Craps, I decided to try my hand at the Poker machines. That
was the ticket that I needed. In less than an hour, I was back up to over four-hundred-dollars in
the black. Little Mr. Prissy-Boy was going to have to wait to fire my ass!

I still had a couple of hours to kill, but I didn't want to take any chances with my job. I went to
the bank and wired the money, more than enough to cover my expenses, directly to the
Company's account. There would be no way that Don could say a thing to me about an
‘unauthorized advance'.

My luck had improved enough that I started getting friendly with the Keno girl. She was a cute
little shit. Her pink mini left little to my imagination, but what it did leave was quite nice. She was
charming, and I was up almost eight hundred, so I did something that I almost never do. I tried to
impress her by throwing away money. I blew a hundred bucks on just one bet. It was a pick
twenty ticket. Dumb!

The little pink outfit went around the corner, and I sat with a stupid look on my face. Sure, I was
still at nearly the break-even point, but I had been much closer with that hundred included. All
that I could do was to continue to play the machine. Lady luck was starting to play my tune.
Three full houses in as many hands.

My little pink Keno girl returned shortly and handed me the tickets. I hadn't played it in so long
that I'd forgotten that it would be a stack of tickets. At least she'd banded them together for me. I
tucked the tickets in my shirt pocket and gave her a ten-dollar tip. If I'd been smart, I would have
just given her the tip and forgotten about the Keno bet. She smiled and thanked me for the tip.
Then then she went off in search of another victim.

Bells, whistles, and flashing lights! Royal Flush, thank you very much! I'd hit the progressive
jackpot. I knew what it meant. Everyone knows what it means. I was going to be twenty-seven-thousand-dollars and change richer! 

The crowd that was forming was more than what I'd expected. The attendant came with the
photographer and congratulated me. I'd won a few large pots before, but this was the largest up
until then. It felt good to get all of the attention for a change. Only a few hours before, I'd been
worried about losing my job. What I'd just won was more than a half-year's salary!

My little Keno girl returned and said, "My God, you won it!" I smiled casually and said, "Thanks
hun, I guess that you brought me the luck." She shook her head and insisted, "No, I mean you
won it! . . . All twenty of your numbers came in! . . . I just checked! . . . You just won over
sixteen-million dollars!"

Things got a bit fuzzy after that. I don't know if it was the rush of the excitement, or if it was the
serious look on the girl's face, but I believed her. It was less than a minute later when the manager
of the casino came to shake my hand. Things got crazy pretty quickly after that.

I know that it sounds strange, but I really can't remember much of that night. I know that they
took my picture many times, and that everyone wanted to shake my hand, but that's about it. The
only other thing that I can remember was meeting a man who said that he could get me more
money.

My next real memory was of waking up the following morning. I was in a very nice suite and
there were flowers all over in the room. There must have been twenty dozen roses in vases and
boxes all throughout the room.

I got up and walked into the shower, but not before calling down to order breakfast. I
remembered fragments of the night before, but the full weight of it didn't hit me until I'd been
standing in the shower for a few minutes. Then it hit me like a ton of bricks! I had to dry off and
sit down, no lie down! 

The man who I'd been talking with was Shelly's, my Keno girs's, father. He was a tax attorney
and he'd set everything up for me so that the Government only got twenty-seven percent of my
winnings. It would have been forty-one percent if Shelly hadn't talked me into speaking with her
father. That meant that I would be leaving the casino with over twelve-million-dollars and change!

My newfound friend and attorney only charged me fifty ‘K' for the whole thing. I thought it was a
hell of a deal. If I hadn't talked with Shelly before cashing in my tickets, the Feds would have
taken over six and three-quarters million of my money. As it was, they got under four and a half
million. That left me with plenty for Shelly's tip. I'd matched the amount that I'd given her father
for his fees. You should have seen the look on that kid's face when I handed her a cashier's check
for fifty-thousand-dollars! She couldn't have been much older than twenty-one, and she giggled
like she was sixteen when I handed it to her. All in all, it had been a pretty amazing evening.

I lay on the bed and came to my senses after a few minutes. I was still shaken, but I knew that it
was real. I knew that I had more money than I'd ever imagined, and that I could do pretty much
what I wanted to do for the rest of my life. Oh yes! This was going to be a wonderful day!

The boys arrived with my breakfast. The cart was laden with everything that a man could want.
There were bowls of fresh fruit, toast, juice, eggs, bacon, hash-browns, and a steak that was large
enough for three people. The juice was freshly squeezed, and the coffee smelled glorious.
"Compliments of the management," the taller of the two boys said. I thanked them both and dug
through my coat pocket for a tip. "A fifty?. . . What the hell, you can afford it now!," I thought.
The boys thanked me and left.

I spent the next few hours basking in my newfound confidence. I also spent it plotting. I'd come
up with a little idea that would put little Donny the wanker to the shame that he deserved. It
would also spank Helen just a bit for being his stooge.

I arrived in front of the office building at about two in the afternoon. I stepped out of the Yellow
Cab and made my way into the building. "Hello Helen, is Mr. Adams here yet?," I queried
confidently. Helen Sat with a puzzled look on her face and replied, "He's here, but he's in a
meeting with Mr. Adams Senior right now." A broad smile crossed my lips and I asked her where
they were. She told me, but then insisted that I stay out. "That's a private meeting, Gary! . . . You
can't go in there!," she shouted. As I pushed the door to the meeting room open, I turned, smiled,
and said, "Fuck you, Helen!" 

Carl Adams was a briliant man. He'd worked his way up to president of the company in less than
ten years. He knew what he was doing, and it showed. "Hello Gary," Carl said quietly. Don
bristled and said, "You're fired ass-hole! . . . I fired you this morning when you didn't show up on
time! . . . Get out of here!" My smile broadened even more just before I spoke. 

"Don, you're an incompetent little fuck-up, and you just tripped on your own dick . . . I am the
reason that this meeting was called in the first place." Don ignored my statement and told Helen
to call the police. "See what I mean, Carl?," I asked. He just nodded and said, "I'm sorry, Gary . .
. Now I understand what you were talking about." 

I'd called Carl before I left the casino. I told him about Don's comment to Helen about sending
me to Las Vegas so that he could fire me. I also told him that I'd spoken to an attorney and that
the attorney felt that I should sue. Carl agreed to a meeting and I offered him a deal. The deal was
that he not tell Don anything. If Don slipped up in front of Carl, I wouldn't sue as long as Carl
fired him on the spot. That's what happened.

Carl's deep voice was very calm and direct. He looked at Don and said, "Don, we can't have
people like you working here . . . Since you can't seem to keep your personal differences from
affecting your work, I'm afraid that I've got no choice but to let you go . . . I'm sorry, Don." The
little worm's face blanched to a greenish-white. It was wonderful! Don pleaded for a few minutes,
but it was to no avail. He even tried the ‘Uncle Carl' ploy, but that just seemed to make Carl more
angry.

The police arrived just as Don thought of a new tactic. He took a swing at me and started
shouting obscenities. The timing couldn't have been any better! Of course I told the police that I
wanted to press charges. Don left the building in handcuffs. Then Carl told Helen to come in.

Again, he spoke softly and directly. He said, "Helen, I'm not going to let you go at this time . . .
Your actions were wrong, but Don was your boss, so I can understand the position that you were
in . . . However, I do think that I should let you know that you're as far up in this company as
you're ever going to get . . . We'll be hiring from outside of the company to fill Don's position." 

Oh what a glorious day! I felt like I was twenty again! Forty-three years old, a multi-millionaire,
and I'd just done away with the ass-hole who'd made my life so difficult! I was in the best mood
that I can ever remember being in. It was great!

The next few weeks were spent researching investments. One of which was a run down resort
camp on a lake in the Colorado mountains. I'd always wanted to own a piece of a lake, and this
one was only a little over three-hundred-thousand. I asked my broker, Dave, and he said that it
was well worth the money, so I bought it. I also bought three houses in Lakewood and some
acreage in Brazil. 

For the first time in my life, I could do whatever I wanted. That included women. I found that
most women were more than willing to put out if they thought that they had a chance at a
millionairre. Needless to say, I took full advantage of this. I got fucked and sucked by more
women than any man has a right to.

After a while, even the women became more bother than they were worth. I mean, there's only so
much ass that a guy can get until it starts getting repetative. It actually got to the point where I
was enjoying my flying lessons more than I was enjoying doing my flying instructor, and she was a
twenty-three-year-old fireball. She had the body, the face, and more than enough energy to satisfy
most men. The problem was that she was just like all the rest. She was just in it for the money.
There was no challenge to it. I got my fixed-wing license and eventually moved up to a helicopter.
That's all that I'd really wanted to learn anyway. I was only getting my fixed-wing because it was
required to move on. 

It had been nearly four months since I'd come into my fortune, and life was getting to be really
bland. There was no place that I ever really had to be at any given time. It was the latter part of
April and I was looking for something to do. That's when I decided to go and visit my camp in
Colorado. I'd been to the houses in Lakewood, but it was too snowy to visit my camp when I'd
been there for that. 

Landing a helicopter can be a real bitch sometimes. This was one of those times. I was actually
quite glad that I still had about twenty hours left before I could get my license. It meant that Dan,
my new instructor, was there to help me to land the damned thing. 

Everything was overgrown. There was still a bit of snow on the ground, and it was obvious that
no work had been done there for several years. The main road in was open, but there was snow
piled across the entry gate to the camp. We got out of the helicopter and I walked around to see
what I'd gotten myself in to. 

The main cabin looked like it was in pretty good shape, so I walked up the steps and fumbled
through the mass of keys that my broker had given me. It was quite nice when I walked in. The
door stuck a bit, but it was obviously a serious bit of architecture.

The main room was over a hundred feet wide, and at least half of that deep. The walls looked to
be varnished logs, and there was an anormous fureplace in the middle of the back wall. From there
I walked back through what could best be described as a serving bar. It was quite a bit lower than
a standard bar, but the open area behind it was obviously meant to be a kitchen. From the inside,
it looked as though the kitchen area had been an afterthought. The room was large, but not as
large as the main room.

There were still large shiny steel vents in place, but all of the other fixtures had been removed.
The white linoleum was stained with dark grease and dirt in the outlines of the missing fixtures.
There were also several large openings that I guessed were walk-in freezers and refrigerators at
one time. All in all, the place looked sound but empty. From the main building, I decided to go
and check out a few of the cabins. There was still a map of the camp by the front door as I walked
out. The glass covering it was dirty, but surpirsingly enough, it wasn't cracked.

The first cabin that I visited was not at all what I'd expected it to be. It was basically a long
rectangle with four glass windows and a door. The inside wasn't much better. Polished log
bunkbeds along the walls and bench-style tables running the length of the room were not what I
had in mind when I'd been told that it was a resort camp. This was almost the same type of a
setup as I'd seen at a camp that I'd attended when I was in grade school. Thankfully, there were
eleven more sleeping cabins to choose from.

As I checked the remaining cabins for liveability, I found that the camp was not at all what I'd
expected. They were all dormitory style living quarters. The camp had obviously been designed
for children. It was not a resort at all. It was a place where rich parents might send their kids to
keep them occupied so that Mom and Dad can enjoy the Summer.

My last ray of hope was a rather large cabin that was tucked in behind the main building. The
building next to it was obviously a bathroom and showers, but the larger cabin looked promising.
It was shaped differently from the others and appeared to be more in the style that I had expected
the rest of the cabins to be like.

As I walked in the door, a staircase to an upper level greeted me. This was more like it. It was
basically a townhouse arrangement with a loft and a large fireplace in the livingroom. The
livingroom, if that's what you'd call it, was off to the left and it had a small kitchen tucked in
behind and around a corner. There was also a bathroom and large storage room that was accessed
from  under the stairs. The upstairs had another fireplace, directly above the one on the lower
level, and two rather large bedrooms. If all of the cabins had been like this one, I would have been
well pleased with my purchase. As it was, I was going to have to spend some major money to turn
a bunch of dormitories into suitable cabins.

I left the cabin and walked down to the docks. They were sturdy aluminum docks that had been
pulled up in sections so that they wouldn't be crushed when the lake froze. The sections covered
quite a large area even though they were stacked four high. I began to wonder what the camp had
looked like when it was operating. There was a large storage shed, at least that's what I hoped it
was, up the bank from the dock segments. I decided to check it out to see if it was really what it
appeared to be. 

To my surprise, the storage shed was just that. It was almost completely filled with canoes, oars,
and life vests. The canoes were all standing on end and had bright red numbers painted near the
front ends of their green bodies. There were racks of oars hanging on the other side of the shed.
Above the oars, hung dozens and dozens of small life-vests. The sight brought back memories of
my own youth and made me wonder if I should convert the camp to an adult resort or not. I'd
forgotten how much fun a camp like this could be for a kid.

With everything locked up securely, Dan and I flew back to Stapleton. It was about an hour-long
flight and I really wasn't paying much attention as I flew. I was remembering the fun that I'd had
at Camp Ticonderoga when I was a kid. I even closed my eyes a couple of times so that I could
visualize the hot days spent tying knots and playing in the water.

I spent a week or so researching the property that I had bought. Dave had given me boxes of
information about it before I bought the camp, but I'd never taken the time to read about it. I
suppose that my expectations would have been different if I'd read about it before I'd spent the
money. I probably wouldn't have bought it if I'd read up on it though. I was glad that I hadn't.

What I found was that the camp was originally called Camp Dixon. It had gone bankrupt when
several children's parents sued and won large settlements because of negligence. The documents
maintained that the owner had been at fault when several children were killed in a bus accident.
He had evidently been trying to save money by cutting maintenance expenses on the busses. The
brakes went out on the way down the canyon and three children were killed. The details of a
partnership were a bit sketchy, but it was implied that a silent partner had been involved.
Unfortunately, there were no records of a partnership anywhere to be found. That explained why
the canoes and docks hadn't been sold off during the bankruptcy. The partner still owned them,
but didn't want to come forward to claim them.

The camp was my main area of interest in the coming months. I planned to have it open and
operating by mid-July. Dave told me to be careful not to invest too much in something like a
camp for kids, but I didn't really pay much attention. I shipped in all of the kitchen equipment,
new bedding, new shingles, the latest safety equipment, and just about anything else that a top-of-the-line kids' camp would need. I even had ramps installed for kids in wheelchairs. I was into it
well over a million dollars by the time that all was said and done

On June third, I flew up to see how things were going. (I'd gotten my license by then.) The sight
that greeted me warmed my heart. It was better than I'd hoped for. All of the cabins had new
rooves. There was a new cabin next to the large one behind the main building. It was a mirror-image of the one that I'd liked so well. All of the paths were graveled. The docs were floating,
and it just looked like a postcard from the air! The new clearing for the helipad was cut into a
stand of pines. It was almost a quarter of a mile from the camp, but that's where I'd told them to
put it. So far, everything was exactly as I'd told the foreman to make it.

When I got to the camp, I was greeted by Martin, ‘Marty', the job foreman. He showed me
through all of the buildings. He'd done a remarbible job. I don't know how he did it, but he'd
turned the dormitory cabins into liveable quarters. The only obvious change was the addition of a
wood-burning fireplace to the back of each cabin. "Now these are them heat-pump units, so no
little ‘uns ull get burned if they'll just keep them doors closed," he explained. 

Marty led me to the kitchen. It was a work of art. There were stoves, grills, and ovens
everywhere. The large spaces had been filled with two walk-in freezers and a walk-in refrigerator.
A whole row of sinks and pot storage would have made any cook proud. I'd known that
everything would have to be sturdy to stand up to the wear and tear of kids. After all, I'd spent
my fair share of time on pots and pans duty when I was at camp. This place would be able to
handle an army of kids and still survive!

Marty was excited when he showed me the new adults' cabin. It was a bit different than the old
one in that it had seven small bedrooms upstairs and a smaller living room on the main floor. It
still had a small kitchen, but it also had three more small bedrooms the main level. There was also
a little cubicle of a room with several monitors on a desk. Marty said, "That's for them cameras
and fire alarms."

I'd known about the fire alarms, but the cameras came as a complete surprise to me. "Cameras?,"
I asked. Marty led me out to the first dormitory cabin and pointed to a small black dot over the
door. "There's one of these here on each cabin," Marty explained. He continued, "I had ‘em put
the same kind on the inside, but that attorney fella' of yours said ya cain't do that . . . He says that
them little‘uns cain't be watched like that . . . If ya ask me, ya gotta watch little'uns ever minute
or they gunna get in trouble!" I laughed and replied, "I know I sure did when I was little." With
that, Marty leaned closer and whispered, "They're still in all them cabins and I'll hook ‘em up if'n
ya want me to." He led me inside of the cabin and pointed to a dot above the fireplace and
another one right above the door.

I didn't know what to say. Marty had done such a wonderful job that I didn't want to hurt his
feelings by telling him no. I said, "Marty, that's a great idea, but some of the kids who will be
helping to run the camp might take advantage of it." He nodded knowingly and said, "Yeah, I
unnerstand . . . I'll take care of it for ya, Gary." I thanked him and we continued my tour.

The docks formed an enormous letter ‘H'. The two legs of the dock that touched the beach
enclosed an area in the middle that would be perfect for swimming. Even the kids who were afraid
of the water could feel comfortable wading in there. I asked Marty to enclose the area with heavy
nylon netting and he told me that he'd see what he could do.

That was everything but the building that I called my cabin. It had been carpeted on the second
level and furnished with pickled pine overstuffed furniture on the lower level. It was about the
only place that turned out exactly as I'd expected. All of the other buildings had been primarily of
Marty's design. I almost wished that he'd done my cabin too.

The flight home left me feeling rewarded and content. Although I didn't intend to spend much
time at the camp, I knew that it would be nice for the kids. I also knew that I was really making a
difference. It certainly wasn't going to add to my wealth, but it was going to add to my peace of
mind.

I'd rented a rather small office soon after I'd quit working for Helen. It was mainly a way for me
to keep my secretary. She'd been with me for almost four years, and I didn't want to leave her to
the vultures at Pennbroke. It worked out quite nicely for both of us. Michelle was a wonderful
typist, and she had ways of organizing things that I could never fully understand. She kept my
schedule reasonable, but always flexible.

I was sitting in the office while talking with Michelle. She was excited for me. I knew that she had
three kids of her own, so I told her that she was welcome to send them to the camp whenever she
wanted. She thanked me politely and then told me that her husband had a bad experience at a
camp when he was younger, so she didn't think that he would approve.

Topics quickly changed and we were soon going over the deatils of upcoming trip to Brazil. It
was something that I was looking forward to. I'd always wanted to visit Brazil, but it was a reality
now. There was no reason for me to stay here and just think about it. Michelle made all of the
arrangements and reservations. There was nothing left out.

I spent the next few days getting ready. I even tried to brush up on my Portuguese and Spanish.
From what I understood, the language down there was a mixture of the two. I didn't really need
to know how to speak the language, but it was something to do.

The flight was long and boring, but the customs officials in Brazil made up for that boredom.
They went through everything in each of my bags, while I stood by a large white counter. When
they were satisfied that I wasn't bringing in any illegal articles, a rather large Brazilian man said,
"We are sorry for any inconvenience that this may have caused you Mr. Porter . . . It is for your
own safety that we are forced to do this." His accent was thick and his speech rehearsed. I knew
that I was no longer in a place where the rules were familiar. Michelle had warned me that bribes
were not only accepted in Brazil, but that they were also expected. 

I smiled at the man and asked, "Is it permitted for me to give you a gift for your considerate
treatment of my belongings?" His English might have been broken, but his understanding of it was
quite good. The man nodded, held out his hand, and replied, "That is quite acceptable Mr. Porter .
. . Thank you." I handed the man a crisp twenty-dollar bill and thanked him again. (Michelle had
also told me that U.S. money was the best medium for bribing and tipping.) With that, the man
put white tags on the handles of my baggage and nodded to another man who was standing near a
doorway.

My taxi driver was a very nice man who spoke much better English than the customs official. I
would have been more comfortable if he had paid less attention to our conversation and more
attention to the roads, but we arrived in one piece anyway. Then he unloaded my cases and
thanked me for the tip. Not ten seconds later, a gang of children emerged from the hotel doorway
and hurriedly carried my baggage inside.

Ten sets of blinking eyes stared at me as I registered. It seemed that each bag required two
children to carry it. They looked like they ranged in age from about seven to about twelve or
thirteen. The clerk smiled at me, handed me my room key, and then gave me directions to the
elevator. I looked over my shoulder and watched as the little vultures struggled to follow behind
me. 

Once to the room door, the children looked up at me knowingly. I must have had sucker stamped
on my forehead or something. I reached into my pocket and gave them each a dollar. Their quiet
demeanor became whoops and hollars as they bounded toward the stairway. I thought it odd that
they would not use the elevator, but found out later that the hotel allowed them to use the
elevator only when they were carrying baggage.

Once inside of my room, I noticed that a bright eyed girl still remained in the hallway. She looked
to be ten or eleven and wore a smile that would melt butter. "Did I forget to give you a dollar,
honey?," I asked. I could see by the greenback in her hand and knew that I hadn't. "No mister . . .
You want lovin'?," she replied. She couldn't have meant what it sounded like so I asked, "What
do you mean, honey?" Her smile remained and her eyes continued to dance. She asked, "You're
American?" I answered, "Yes." "Americans like smooth ones?," the girl queried.

I knew that the little girl was talking about something else, but I had no idea what it was, so again
I asked, "What are you talking about, Honey?" The girl looked carefully down the hallway then
pulled her underwear to her knees and said,  "See? . . . I got smooth one . . . No hair . . . Just for
you." What the fuck?!! I knew that things were different in Brazil, but I'd never expected
anything like this! "I'm come in, ok?," the girl asked. I wanted her out of the hallway no matter
what, so I quickly pulled her in my room and closed the door. 

I told the girl to pull her panties up, but she did just the opposite. They were on the floor and she
ran and flopped on my bed. "Honey, how old are you?," I asked. "Ten," she replied as she
plunged two fingers into herself. All that I could do was gulp and stand dumbfounded at the little
girl's actions. "See? . . . You fit good I bet," the little girl announced. Her eyes still twinkled and
her smile never left.

I sat on the edge of the bed and asked, "Do lots of men make you do this?" She shook her head
and said, "I do it good for you . . . I suck if you want." I just sat there and wondered what kind of
a culture I'd walked into. Then I said, "Honey, you don't have to do this . . . I'll give you money,
but please put your clothes on, ok?" Her smile faded and tears replaced the twinkle in her eyes.
She said, "You not like how I am . . . You think me ugly!" The girl quickly closed her legs and
covered herself with her tiny hands.

I had no idea what to do, so I shook my head and said, "That's not it, honey . . . You're beautiful!
. . . You're just not old enough to do things like this." She turned away and pouted. With that, I
reached under her shoulders and pulled her to me in a hug. Her eyes burned through my own in
search of the truth. "You no think me ugly?," she asked. I smiled broadly and slowly shook my
head. "You at least touch me and see?," she asked. There was great doubt in her voice. I shook
my head slowly and said, "You're too young." The girl was not going to accept that as a valid
answer. She took my free hand and slapped it against her little mound. Her eyes never left mine.
"Honey, you're too young," I insisted. "You feel it!," she insisted right back. "You feel it inside!,"
she continued. 

There was no way that I was going to put ANYTHING inside of that little girls's twat! I stared
back at her as intently as she was staring at me and said, "No!" I felt pain in the back of my hand
and then I felt my finger slip into her. "No!," I again exclaimed loudly. The kid continued to pinch
my hand and hold it in place. "Plenty old . . . Plenty good! . . . You think me ugly or you want!,"
she shouted. 

I knew that I had to regain control of the situation. There was no way that a ten-year-old girl,
who couldn't have weighed more than eighty pounds, was going to make me do what I didn't
want to do. I pulled hard and removed my finger from her little cunt. Then I said, "Honey, I mean
it! . . . I think you're very pretty, but you're too damned young!" Her reply caught me off guard.
She said, "You got hard one . . . You think me ugly or you want do it!" It was time to change
tactics. I was getting angry and I wasn't about to give in!

I stood and pulled my pants down. Then I shouted, "You want this in there?," as I pointed
between the little girl's legs. I was going to show her that things could be painful for little girls
who thought that they were big girls! I pulled her legs, spread them, and then rammed my cock
into her on the edge of the bed. She didn't scream. She just sighed and smiled up at me. That just
made me all the more angry.

Thrust after thrust got no adverse reaction. Hell, she was enjoying herself! It took a moment for
me to regain my composure and then I realized what I was doing. I was having sex with a ten-year-old girl. What's worse, her hips kept coming up to meet my every thrust. I watched her bite
her lip and then I felt her tiny velveteen cunny dump hot liquid on my cock. She had just cum on
me! With that, I felt the warm sensations forming in my balls. My face began to flush and then I
dumped my load inside of her. I came hard.

The mixture of anger, fear, and being completely out of control made me cum in that little girl like
I'd never cum before. She honest to God giggled when she felt me cum. She smiled, looked up at
me, and then giggled. What she said next made me feel ashamed. I was feeling the guilt beginning
almost the moment after I stopped cumming. When she said, "I suck it all out now," I the guilt
really hit hard. 

Without warning, this little girl maneuvered herself around on the bed and took my dick in her
mouth. Her tiny hands massaged my balls as she diligently sucked until she was convinced that I
was empty. I just stood there and let it all happen. After that, she stood on the bed with her legs
spread and said, "Watch." I stood in awe as she wiggled and contorted her little body until gobs
of my own white cum began to spurt out into her tiny cupped hand. 

It was then that the nausea hit me. I had no idea what to do, so I grabbed the garbage can and
puked my guts out. The little girl just watched me throw up while she continued to contort her
body until nothing more was coming out of herself. Then she asked, "You eat bad food?" All that
I could do was to shake my head while the dry heaves racked my body.

The pain and nausea finally subsided and I wanted to sleep. What I really wanted was a shower
but I didn't have the strength to crawl to the bathroom. "My name Natalia," the girl volunteered. I
started dry heaving again as soon as she said it. Then she said, "Mister, you got be in banyo." I
knew what she meant and nodded. With that, this little ten-year-old named Natalia helped me to
make my way to the bathroom. 

How someone her age could know exactly what to do was completely beyond me, but she did.
She turned on the water in the shower so that it was slightly cooler than room temperature. Then
she helped me into the tub. It felt wonderful. When I started to feel better, she adjusted the water
so that it was warmer. Then, when I closed my eyes to relax, she took off her top and climbed in
to lay down with me.

Natalia's back was bruised and scarred from what appeared to be a belt. Someone had been
repeatedly whipping this little girl. Everything else left my mind when I saw that. All that I
wanted, needed, to do was to hold her and comfort her. I asked, "Who did this to you, honey?"
My eyes were welling up with tears. Natalia's angelic little face didn't change. She smiled and
answered, "My police man do this if I not make enough money."

While laying in the tub with Natalia, I learned that she was an orphan who was working as a
prostitute for one of the local police. She'd only been doing it a few days, but her uncle had first
raped her when she was only four. It was shortly after her father found out about his brother when
Natalia was thrown out to live in the streets. That was when she was seven. She told me many
things about Brazil. She explained that girls who would not work for the police were usually
killed by them. She had been lucky to live to be so old without having to work for one. She told
me of her many friends who were sick. The symptoms resembled AIDS from what she described.
I probably should have been worried about that for myself, but I didn't think of that until several
months later. By then, I knew that I was safe.

Natalia didn't leave my side for the next few days. I took her everywhere with me. I also stopped
at several of the nicest shops and got her clothing and several suitcases. It would take a bit of
work, but I figured that I would be able to get her into the States if I bribed the right people. 

I know that it might sound heartless, but of the forty-one girls who I managed to get to Mexico,
only seven tested negative for AIDS. I paid a storekeeper quite well to keep them well taken care
of, but I didn't have them brought across the border. The seven who did test negative, I had sent
across. By the time that they got to Colorado, I had naturalization papers for all of them as well.
Brazil isn't the only place where bribes can make a difference.

It didn't take much to find a Hispanic couple in Denver who were willing to take care of one of
my houses, along with seven little girls. Getting them registered for school would prove to be
much more difficult. The school year had just ended, and none of the girls had any formal
education. They had learned all that they knew in the streets of Rio. I soon found that tutors were
the only answer. 

It took the better part of a month for the girls to really feel comfortable in their new surroundings.
I'd explained the importance of ‘behaving herself' to Natalia, and she in turn explained it to the
rest of the girls. Tsi Tsi, who was only seven had almost blown the whole thing when she offered
sex to Mr. Menendez. Fortunately, one of the other girls caught her in time and convinced him
that she was just having a hard time understanding English.

It was the July fourth weekend, and I had to go to my camp and formally open it. I proudly
announced, "Camp Moose Porter is officially opened!," as the scissors cut through the ribbon.
There were cheers and shouts from everyone who was there. There were four Greyhound busses
in the lot, and plenty of other cars. We even managed to pull some news coverage from channels
two and six in Denver. It looked as if things were really going to work out.

I'd decided early on that young married couples would make the best camp councellors. I figured
that they would be much less likely, to try to get into a high-school student's pants, than single
people of the same age would. There were ten rooms in the councellors' cabin and I'd made sure
that there were twenty councellors. That meant two councellors for every cabin. That meant one
councellor for every eight kids. It all worked out about right as far as I could figure it. It left two
of the cabins open for special groups or functions too.

Dinner the first night was fantastic. There was fried chicken, roast beef, french fries, mashed
potatoes, corn on the cob, broccoli, green beans, and just about everything else that a kid could
want. Hell, it was as much as any adult could want! 

Marty was the man of the day. I'd insisted on that. He was reluctant when I'd asked him to be
there for the opening. He gave me some excuse about not feeling comfortable in crowds, but
changed his tune when I said that something might go wrong. Being there to fix a problem was
different. He agreed when I told him that. All that I wanted was for him to be there to receive the
praise that he deserved. 

It felt good to raise my glass in honor of Marty. I said, "To Marty, who's diligent work and
wonderful carpentry skills made all of this possible!" There were cheers in the main room.
Everyone was eating and enjoying themselves. Marty blushed at first, but then I think that he
started to enjoy all of the attention. 

I'd limited the first group of campers to kids who were between sixteen and eighteen years old.
I'd figured that they would be certain to find any problems, but mature enough to tell someone
about them when they did. Strangely enough, there were no real problems the first night. I'd
expected at least a stopped up toilet in the bathrooms, but that didn't even happen.

I guess that it was nearly ten o'clock when Marty stopped by to say goodnight. I offered him a
room in my cabin, but he said that he should be going. He said, "Gary, I took care of that camera
thing . . . It's all squared away in yur closet . . . Just press 333 and away she goes." I had no idea
what he was talking about, but I thanked him anyway. Then I gave him a bonus check for twenty-thousand-dollars and he left.

Tired, I was indeed tired. I hadn't been that tired in months! I made one last pass through the
camp, thanked all of the counsellors, and then returned to my cabin to go to sleep. Before I did, I
looked in the closet to see just what Marty had been talking about. There was a keypad, but I had
no idea what it did.

"Did he say 333?," I thought. I tried it and the back panel opened up. I was looking at a twenty-seven inch monitor. I removed a remote and turned the unit on. Yep, It was the view inside of
cabin number one alright! The up-arrow brought me the second view of the same cabin. I
continued to press the button until I'd gone through every cabin. Not only did I have a clear color
picture, but I also had sound! It would have been a voyeur's dream if it were anyone other than
kids! 

I was still having trouble accepting what I'd done to or with Natalia. Yeah, I knew that she was
better off because of it, but I still couldn't accept the fact that I'd actually cum inside of a little
girl. I mean, it's not natural for a grown man to get off on little girls. At least, that's what I'd
always been told. That's how all of the laws were written. It had to be something wrong, or the
laws would have been written differently, right?

I managed to figure out that pressing 333 on the keypad again would close the console. It was
kind of fun to have, but I didn't think that it would ever come in handy unless there was a real
emergency. I chuckled a bit and then headed off to bed.

Oh that fucking bugle! How had I let Simmons talk me into letting him blast that fucking thing at
seven o'clock in the morning? My eyes felt like they'd been pasted shut with mud. It must have
been the same mud that had been put in my mouth while I was asleep, or at least that's what it
tasted like. I took my time getting dressed and then headed to the main building for a cup of
coffee.
 
There was a clatter of dishes and silver as the kids walked down the chow line for their morning
feeding. The hum of happy conversations and laughter was a welcome sound. It meant that things
had gone well. I was greeted with a chorus of, "Good morning Mr. Porter," as I walked through
to the kitchen. I returned the gesture and waved on my way through. 

Tom and Betty Mason were two of the counsellors who I'd picked for their cooking skills.
They'd been up since five so that breakfast would be ready at seven. I said, "Outstanding work,"
as I filled a cup with the rich Columbian mud. The couple beamed and thanked me. Tom said,
"Looks like your camp's a success." I nodded and said, "I hope so . . . I remember how much fun
I had at a camp like this when I was a kid." Betty turned and said, "Me too, but there were no
heated restrooms when I went to camp as a girl!" We all laughed a bit and I replied, "You think
that's a bit much, eh?" Betty shook her head and said, "If you only knew how nice that is for us
girls!" Betty had every right to call herself a girl. She was all of twenty-two, and could have
passed for seventeen if she'd wanted to.

Tom, Betty, and I talked for a while and then I headed out to see what was scheduled for the kids.
I looked on the board and saw that Archery and Canoeing were the two big events for the day.
There were always to be two distinctly different activities on any given day. They could not both
be water events either. I didn't want some kid who was afraid of the water to miss out because he
or she didn't like to swim.

With a fresh cup of coffee in me, and another in my hand, I walked back to my cabin to pack. I
hadn't really planned on staying the first night, but did because the activities went on longer than
I'd expected. The little suitcase that I kept in my trunk for such occasions had come in handy
more than once.

I pressed 333 on the keypad in my closet and the image of cabin number one came into clear
view. It evidently worked automatically once I removed the remote from the holder. Scanning the
channels proved boring at first. Then, when I was looking from the fireplace view in cabin number
seven, I saw something interesting. One of the boys was going down on one of the girls in a big
way. He had her bent over the bottom bunk and was doing her furiously from behind. 

This deserved a bit of sound, so I increased the volume. The boy kept repeating, "I love you
Tammy, I really do," as he rammed himself into her. I don't think that either of the two had
noticed that another girl was quietly watching them from her top bunk. I certainly did though.
Watching the couple go at it did nothing for me compared to the nimble fingers of the little
brunette who was watching them. She had part of a pillow in her mouth and I watched her cum
several times before the couple finally stopped. The brunette bit the pillow hard every time that
she came. It was a complete turn on for me. I knew that it shouldn't have been, but it was.

The couple got dressed and the girl in the top bunk lay silent until they left. Then, the girl also got
dressed and left. I scanned the channels frantically in search of some similar activity, but there was
none to be found. I had to leave anyway. I was to be at the Menendez' place at one o'clock to
help Arturo with the girls. They had been demanding to see me for over a week, and I knew that I
couldn't get out of it.

The flight back was uneventful and the drive to the Menendez' was a lazy one. I was looking
forward to seeing Natalia and ‘my' other kids. The image of Natalia's scarred back was a familiar
one to me. I just couldn't imagine anyone treating children, or even animals, that way. It made me
want to go back to Brazil and kick some ass. Better judgement told me that a dream was all that
idea would ever be.

Natalia was the first to greet me. The door opened. "Mister Gary!," she exclaimed and she
jumped into my arms. I hugged her and set her back on her feet. I asked, "How is everyone?"
Arturo walked around the corner, smiled, and said, "Everyone is good, Mr. Porter." His wife,
Maria, poked her head over the balcony and said, "Hello Mr. Porter." I waved to her and said
hello back. Then the girls slowly emerged from all throughout the house.

Marta, who was the oldest at thirteen, walked down the stairs and said hello. She told me that
there was something that she really wanted to talk with me about. I promised her that I would talk
with her before I left. Julia, who was the shy one at nine years old, emerged next. She came out
from the kitchen, said hello, and then disappeared back to where she'd come from. Anita and Tsi
Tsi came out together. They'd been watching television in the den. Anita was eight and Tsi Tsi
was still only seven. Morena, who had just turned ten when Natalia first introduced her to me, had
the most gorgeous blue eyes that I'd ever seen before. Natalia's were pretty, but Morena's were
striking. She sauntered down the stairs and said hello along with the rest. Last, but certainly not
least, was Della. Della was the true cuddler of the bunch. She was stretching as she walked slowly
down the stairs. Although, at twelve years old, she had quite possibly been the most abused of all
of the girls, she was certainly the most loving.

Della lazily pushed her way through the other girls and wrapped her arms around my waist. She
didn't say anything, but the look on her smiling face when she tipped her head back and looked at
me said more than enough. Then she pressed her head firmly to my chest and sighed a deep and
contented sigh that made me feel wonderful.

From there we headed to the pool. There were plenty of lounge chairs and every girl seemed to
have her own spot. Arturo and Maria told me how smoothly everything had been going. They
even had praise for the girls' new tutors. Maria went on and on about how nice it was to have so
many children in the house. She wasn't able to have children of her own, so this was evidently the
next best thing.

Marta didn't seem to be able to stop figeting. I finally asked, "Marta, would you like to talk
now?" She replied, "It is personal Mister Porter . . . can we talk in my room?" The other girls
taunted her a bit, but Arturo raised his finger and they stopped. I smiled at him and said, "Looks
like you know what you're doing, Arturo." He smiled broadly and said, "You have to when you
have nine sisters!" His heavy accent made it all the more funny. Maria and I laughed, and then she
gave him a peck on his cheek.

I followed Marta to her room and sat on the edge of her bed. She closed the door quietly and sat
beside me. I asked, "What is it that you need to talk about, Marta? . . . Is everything ok here?"
Marta nodded and said, "Everything here is wonderful." Her English was almost as good as my
own, and was much better than Arturo's. I asked, "Well what is it then, Honey?" It was a
question that I regretted asking almost as soon as I'd asked it.

She asked, "Mr. Porter, you know what I did every day when I lived in Rio, is this correct?" I
nodded and answered, "Yes, but you will never have to do that again, Honey." Marta shook her
head and said, "That is the problem that I wanted to talk with you about . . . I miss doing it
sometimes." I'd kind of prepared myself for the possibility that one of the girls might say
something like that. I said, "Do you have a boyfriend in the neighborhood, Marta?" She shook her
head and said, "I tried it with one of the boys here, but it is different . . . I need a real man . . . Will
you do it with me just once Mr. Porter? . . . I will never ask for another thing if you will just do it
with me only one time!"

Oh no, not this shit again! I was very calm and replied, "Marta, you are like a daughter to me
now, and I would never do anything that might hurt you like that." She puzzled on my reply and
then asked, "Will you look at my naked body and tell me If I am desireable to you?" I already
knew that I found her desireable. Hell, I thought that all of my girls were desireable. That was the
problem! I waited and then replied, "Marta, I would very much like to make love with you . . . I
don't need to see you naked to know that, but in this country it is illegal for a man to make love
with a girl your age." Marta had that one covered. She said, "I know that Mr. Porter . . . I am
sorry and I would never want you to be in trouble because of me . . . I just know that I want to
feel you, a real man, inside of me."

We could have gone on like that for hours. I had my reasons and Marta had hers. She made one
last statement before I left her room. She said, "Mr. Porter, I will never make you do it, but I
want it very much . . . Do you know what I mean?" I nodded, stood up, and said, "I want it too,
Marta, and that's the problem." 

When I returned to the pool, Maria had gone back inside of the house. Arturo was still in his
chair. His chest was puffed out like a proud rooster. "Well Mr. Gary, did you solve Marta's
problem?," he asked. I replied, "No, but I think I can in a few minutes." Even though Marta's
English was outstanding, she was basically illiterate. She couldn't understand a simple sentance on
paper. I told Arturo that I needed about an hour with Marta alone so that I could teach her how
to understand words. He nodded and said that he knew that Marta was very self conscious about
not being able to read or write. Then he offered to take all of the children and his wife to a movie
so that Marta and I could have the house to ourselves. I insisted that it be my treat, and off they
went. Marta hadn't moved from the edge of the bed where I'd left her. She slowly raised her eyes
and looked at me. I barely nodded. With that, Marta ran across the room, threw her arms around
me, and said, "Thank you Mr. Porter! . . . Thank you! . . . Thank you!"

We waited a few minutes and checked the house to make sure that everyone was gone. Then I
extracted a promise that Marta would truly work with her tutors and admit that she couldn't read
or write. She was reluctant, but did eventually give in. I gave in as well and began to undress in
her bedroom.

Marta wasted no time and stripped down to nothing before I had even taken my pants off. Her
juvenile body looked ripe and enticing. Seeing her small breasts and pouting little nipples gave me
an immediate erection. The whispy thin matt of fine peach fuzz in her loins was also incredible. I
hurriedly removed the remainder of my clothing. Then I lay on my back and waited to see what
she would do. 

Marta sprang into action and tried to position herself directly over my swollen cock. I told her no
and rolled her onto her back. Then I lowered my lips to her breast and began to gently suckle.
Marta squeaked and moaned as I kissed my way from one breast to the other. I dragged my
tongue along her firm and tender skin until my lips surrounded the puckered flesh of her immature
nipple. Her reaction was automatic. She arched her back and moaned loudly. I felt her nipple
forming under my tongue as I slowly lapped and kissed it. It became firm and full in my mouth.
Marta was absorbed in the sensations that my mouth was giving her.

A musky scent soon filled the room, and I felt compelled to massage het tiny mons. My fingers
glided through her soft pubic hair until I felt the moisture between her legs. With her back still
arched from the attention to her breasts, her hips began to move and sway at the touch of my
hand. My fingers traced a path through her swollen crease. Her eyes were tightly closed, as she
began to lick her bottom lip. The small pink and wet tip ran from one corner to the other. It was
more than I could take. I had to taste it. I had to feel it in my own mouth.

My hand was exploring the womanhood of this child, and I replaced my mouth on her swolen
nipple with a gently pinching thumb and forefinger. It seemed to have the same effect. Marta's
back arched and her shoulders swayed. Her hips rhythmically pushed to meet my every touch. Her
eyes flew open as I ran my own tongue along her upper lip. Her arms flew around my leaning
shoulders and she pulled against me tightly. Our tongues were instantly intertwined. The soft
tissues of the young girl's mouth were warm and inviting. She wanted me there. The feelings that
I was giving her were new and loving. Her eyes slowly closed and we continued to kiss.

Marta's hips began to grind violently against the touch of my fingers. She released her grasp of
my shoulders and frantically tried to push my fingers inside of her. I didn't relent. I kept
massaging her engorged clitoris and swolen labia. Then, after several violent hard bucking
motions agianst my fingers, Marta relaxed and melted under my touch. Her eyes opened slowly
and I felt her lips become a smile under my own. I knew that she was ready. I knew what was to
follow. 

Marta didn't speak until I got up amd positioned myself above her. Then she said, "Thank you,"
in the sweetest and most angelic voice imaginable. She took my cock in her hands and gently
guided me into herself. She knew what she was doing. She made several passes with the head of
my cock through her crease. And then Marta and I became one. 

Sinking into a heavenly cloud is the finest description that I can compare to what Matra felt like.
Her immature cunny was like a warm and slippery velvet that seemed to pull me ever deeper into
her. Her eyes were open and she watched me intently as I slowly inserted and withdrew myself
form her firm young body. I didn't want to spoil the feeling by cumming. I wanted to savor every
sensation and learn every nuance of this girl's warm and tender opening. I watched as she did the
same. I watched Marta hold herself back and bite her lower lip so that she could feel the head of
my dick slowly travelling the contours of her most intimate places.

Marta held out several times, but finally couldn't keep from cumming. She struggled not to push
hard against me, and I continued a very slow and steady rhythm. Her scream started out as a low
and broken gasp, but became a loud and violent shriek. Her fingers dug deeply into my shoulders
and then I was awash with the wonderful feelings of Marta's body. Her scream continued for
several seconds, and then she relaxed. It was a familiar theme that I hoped would continue.

Marta had cum several times before I could hold back no longer. The slow and deliberate strokes
into and out of such a soft and wonderful place had taken their toll. I told Marta that I was about
to cum, and she pumped at me furiously to catch up with my orgasm. I watched her face strain,
and then relax as her orgasm came to meet mine. I held back no longer and allowed wave after
wave of pleasure to wash over me. We both jerked and shook violently for the next few moments.
I felt the last traces of Marta's juices trickle over me as I shot streams of my own cum deeply into
her. I tried to continue the action after I was done, but Marta pulled down firmly on my shoulders
and shook her head.

I lay on top of the little girl and toyed with her ears for a while. Marta's soft voice broke the
warm silence. She said, "I never had it be like this before." She was curling my chest hairs around
two of her fingers. The smile on Marta's face matched my own as I quietly said, "I've never felt a
woman as wonderful as you are, Marta." With my flaccid cock still inside of her wonderful body,
Marta said, "You help me with my homework like this very often Mister Gary?" I couldn't help
but laugh. What I'd just done was a terrible thing, but it felt anything but terrible at the time. I
slowly nodded my whole upper body and said, "We'll see, Marta . . . We'll see."

By the time that Arturo and Maria returned with the rest of the girls, Marta and I were really
working on her writing skills. I had opened the window in her room and turned the fan on to blow
out the smells from our sex. Arturo and Maria seemed oblivious to anything, but the rest of the
girls all seemed to sense something. Della just glared at Marta as if to say, "You bitch!" I think
that Natalia knew what had happened also, but she just grinned and smiled at me.

The rest of the day went fairly well. Maria made wonderful dish for dinner with shredded beef and
cheese. I don't know what it was called, but we all ate more than we should have. Arturo sat
proudly at the head of the table and watched the antics of ‘his' children. By the end of the night,
each and every one of the girls told me that she wanted me to help her with her homework just
like I'd helped Marta. Even shy little Julia and tiny Tsi Tsi asked me to help them. I'd expected it
from Natalia more than the others, but she was one of the last to ask.

I spent the next few days reading up on Pedophilia. It was a bit more difficult than usual, since I
couldn't really ask Michelle to get me the books on it. What I found amazed me. I found that it
was quite common for men and girls, often very young girls, to be intimate. The major change
seemed to take place in in the United States right after women were given the vote. Whether to
sucure positions for themselves, or to protect the interests of their children was unclear. What was
clear was that voting women didn't want men poking around in little girls anymore. What had
been considered normal and acceptable behavior for thousands of years became a criminal act
overnight. Maybe what I'd done wasn't such a bad thing. Maybe those thousands of years of
genetic programming were still in me. Hell, I wasn't such a monster after all!

With my newfound confidence and understanding of my behavior, I decided that I was going to
agree to the girls' wishes. As long as it didn't hurt her, I even planned on helping little Tsi Tsi
with her homework! What that meant was that I was going to need to figure out a way to get the
girls on my own. It meant that they were going to come with me to the camp in between groups.
I'd set up the group schedule so that there was always a week between them for preparation and
maintenance. Two weeks away would be just such a week.

::

Arturo was reluctant at first, but when I told him that I really wanted he and Maria to have a
week's vacation in Mexico, he finally came around. I knew that they both had family there and the
airline tickets proved to be just the extra incentive that he needed. Although they were both
naturalized U.S. citizens, they still wanted to visit friends and family. It was settled. The next step
was to make sure that the camp would be completely empty for several days. Michelle took care
of that one for me.

I didn't really enjoy having to drive to the camp, but I wasn't certified for a heavy enough
helicopter to carry myself and the seven girls. With all of their luggage, it would have had to have
been a cargo ship anyway! Nonetheless we all made it. I even learned a few Brazilian songs along
the way. The girls all seemed more interested in the bathroom than anything else when we first
arrived.


