Date: Sat, 28 Jan 2006 02:27:29 EST
From: Jetjt@aol.com
Subject: Super Jeff, Chapter 6

The following story is a work of gay fiction. If the subject matter is
offensive to you or you are too young, please exit now. This work is the
property of the author and may not be reproduced without permission.  John
Tucker, JETjt@aol.com

				SUPER JEFF

				Chapter Six

CHRIS' POV

The day went as Jeff had planned. After our tiring run we dug into the rest
of Jeff's schedule. Honestly, he had far more to do than I. Besides golf
and the dreaded workout, Jeff also had his piano practice and lesson as
well as his English lesson. Part of the break time for me was spent
resting, recouping from Jeff's athletic schedule. The rest was spent
reading Nifty stories. I took my last golf lesson and afterward we
practiced hitting the ball, as well as taking some time learning how to get
out of sand traps. By the late afternoon I was tired.  Our last planned
activity had been our workout. By the time we'd finished and rinsed off in
the shower, immersing myself into the hot tub sure felt good to my aching
body. The hot dip was followed by another cooling off shower, then into the
sauna for another heat-up. A quick plunge in the cold pool brought me back
to full alert before we dashed into the shower a final time, covering our
bodies with warm spray and then building up a good coating of suds before
rinsing off. My skin had never felt so squeaky clean. All of this was done
naked which was almost overload seeing Jeff nude and would have caused an
obvious problem had it not been for my physical exhaustion.

Returning to the house we got dressed for dinner. Jeff's folks had come
home during our time in the gym building and by the time we descended the
stairs, they were preparing themselves a cocktail.

"Would you guys like anything?" Dr. Jeff asked.

"What do you have that's good for muscle pain?" I answered with another
question.

"I have just the thing if you're not going out this evening," he promised
as he chuckled.

"We're staying home," announced Jeff. "Fix me whatever you have in mind for
Chris."

"Two rum-and-cokes coming up," Jeff's dad responded as he moved to the back
of the bar and started making the drinks. When he was finished he handed
them to us.

"Mmmm!  Hey this is pretty good," I complimented the bartender.

"I thought you'd like it," Dr. Jeff replied. "It's a good starter drink."

We chatted with the `rents about our day as we sipped our drinks. It was
not long before I felt a warm calmness seep through my body. Soon afterward
I started giggling at things that were being said, even though I'm sure
they weren't that funny.

"It's nice to know we have a cheap drunk in the family," Jeff kidded.

The words struck me hard as I thought of my dad. The smile went from my
face and I placed the empty glass back on the bar, vowing to never drink
again. Jeff noticed my abrupt change in attitude and immediately knew what
was wrong. "I'm sorry Chris," he said apologetically, "Guess I hit a
nerve."

"It's not your fault," I responded, "what you said just reminded me of my
dad."

"All the more reason to be sorry," Jeff declared, not letting himself off
the hook.

"I'm just going to have to get used to it," I said. "I can't let that SOB
ruin my life."

"That's the spirit Honey," Dr. Mel chimed in.

"Yes," Jeff's dad added, "You're ours now. My lawyer filed the irrevocable
guardianship papers today. You never have to see your Dad, Mom or siblings
again unless you want to."

"Really?"

"Yup," Dr. Mel said with assurance. "It's all done."

"Congratulations Bro," Jeff said smiling as he gave me a more than
brotherly hug. I'm glad that Dr. Jeff offered me his hand in
congratulations next. A hug at that stage would have revealed my reaction
to Jeff's full body press. Getting myself quickly under control, the hug
from Dr. Mel was without incident.

"Since the formalities are out of the way, I guess you could call me Dad
now," Dr. Jeff offered.

"Uh... If you don't mind sir, I'd rather call you Pop. That way I won't be
reminded of my sperm donor."

"I'd like that," my new `Pop' replied.

"I suppose that you calling me `Mom' is out of the question too," Dr. Mel
surmised.

"No Ma'am," I responded. "I called the lady that gave me birth `Mother'
more than I did `Mom.' I used the term `Mom' only when I was talking about
her with other kids, never to her face. I'd like to call you `Mom."

"I'm glad," she said. "I never liked the term `Mama' which was just about
the only other choice. It`s a child's term and is okay for the very young,
but not for a practically grown man."

I smiled at the thought when Jeff asked, changing the subject, "When do you
leave for Europe?"

"Tomorrow at noon," Pop replied.

"Do you need a ride to the airport?" Jeff queried.

"No, I'm having a limo service pick us up at 9 AM. I wasn't sure what your
schedule was and I'd hate to ask you to change your plans," the older Jeff
answered. "I presume you have plans?"

"Yes Sir," SJ said, "But we'd have gladly changed them. Tomorrow is Chris'
first round of golf."

"That's more important than playing taxi for us," Mom declared. "You boys
have a good time. Just make sure that you let Frank know if you're not
going to be around for meals."

"I'll remember, even if Jeff forgets," I kidded.

"Hey bro!" Jeff responded with a light punch to my shoulder. "That's your
big brother you're maligning!"

"What's a brother for if not for a little misalignment?" I asked with a
happy wink, knowing that I'd slaughtered my response.

Pop and Mom laughed at our antics as Frank appeared.

"Dinner is served," he announced. "I took the liberty of preparing a nice
going away dinner. I wanted you to remember what you'll be missing in
Europe."

"I'm sure it will be great," Mom assured Frank as we moved into the dining
room.

"I was startled by the table! It was beautiful! The best china, sterling
and crystal gleamed on the stark-white linen tablecloth. Black napkins were
arranged in peaks at each white plate which was encircled with a black band
and gold border. Matching white and black accessories, such as two
candelabra, white and black coasters and white and black butter dishes were
place around the table. In the center of the table was a white and black
bud holder from which sprang a half-dozen red roses. It took my breath
away."

On each plate was a small menu card written in script:

				First Course
   Micado Soup en Croute

			         Second Course
	              Seafood Terrine with Sauce American

			         Third Course
	                            Champagne Sorbet

			        Fourth Course
	           Filet Mignon and Mesquite Grilled Prawn
		with Asparagus and Julienne of Carrots
		   Tomato filled with Northern Beans
			   Galette Potatoes

			      Fifth Course
			        Trio of
  	         Chocolate, Vanilla, and Raspberry Mousse
		       Served with Sauce Famboise

"What is all this stuff?" I asked Jeff in a half-whisper once we were
seated.

"I'm not sure about it all," Jeff admitted, but most of it is just pretty
food. I know that the soup is a soup with oriental vegetables in a chicken
stock with the top of the bowl covered with pastry, then baked. It's pretty
good."

"The second course is a seafood salad of some type," he continued. "The
sorbet is a tiny formed dab of solid frozen slurpee. It's supposed to
`cleanse the palate' from the dressing on the salad, getting your mouth
ready for the main course.  Filet Mignon is, of course, steak, and the
prawns are just big shrimp. The rest are just vegetables and are there to
round out the main course.

"The dessert is a flavored mousse which is a foamy concoction.  I'm sure it
will be pretty because Frank loves screwing around to make dessert as
pretty as possible.

Jeff had it down pat. It was all wonderful! Each course was served
separately and was accompanied by wine for those that wanted it. I just
asked for grape juice when it was offered. I'd had enough liquor
earlier. The dessert was as pretty as it was tasty. It was served on a
plate. In the middle of the plate was a small cylindrical `tower' of
chocolate just a bit larger than a small frozen orange juice can. The front
of the cylinder had been carved out so that you could see inside the
cylinder. Inside was another cylinder of freestanding mousse in layers of
chocolate, vanilla and strawberry. Around the plate surrounding the
chocolate centerpiece was an artist's dream. Squirted on the plate were
brown `vines' of what looked like liquid chocolate with some of the vines
encrusted in leaves of green hard sugar, and the others ending in raspberry
halves. It was almost too pretty to eat, but once I tasted it, I couldn't
put down my spoon.

Frank reappeared after we had eaten the last course, asking us if we'd like
coffee. We all thought that it would be nice, especially me, because at my
old home I was never offered any. Mom and Pop ordered regular coffee, but
suggested decaf for Jeff and me to prevent it from keeping us awake. That
was fine with me, but I can tell you that after today's workout, I felt I
could sleep on a brick!

Frank brought in the coffee and was greeted with a round of applause by the
diners.

"Great meal!" Pop complimented the chef.  "I'm sure that we'll miss your
cooking while we're in Europe."

"It was wonderful," Mom added.

"I liked the dessert the best," I blurted out.

Everyone laughed, but I could tell that Frank was pleased.

		* * *

JEFF'S POV

The dinner was filling even though the portions were not large. I mean,
three asparagus is not exactly `vegging out', so to speak. After coffee,
the `rents excused themselves saying that they still had packing to do. I
don't know how that could be true since Frank had spent a good part of the
morning making sure they had all the proper clothing ready. I guess it
doesn't matter, because it was good to be alone again with Chris when we
weren't busy doing something.

"I'm really impressed with your swing," I commented, thinking about our
golf outing planned for in the morning.

"I didn't think it was noticeable," Chris responded with a grin.

"Oh I like that swing too," I retorted. "I was talking about your golf
swing."

"Oh, that's disappointing. I thought you were gonna start talking dirty! I
was getting all ready."

"Hey, if I'm gonna talk dirty to you, it sure as hell is not gonna be at
the dining room table. I have a room much better equipped for the hoped-for
result," I challenged. "It does remind me of a joke though.

"I didn't know you were a jokester amongst all your other talents," Chris
responded. "Tell me."

"Well," I began. "There was a guy who really wanted a Harley cycle. He'd
wished for one all his life, but he didn't have enough money for a new one,
so he checked the ads in the paper. He wanted one that was perfect in every
way though, so it took a while before he found the perfect bike. The black
paint and chrome glistened and no oil, road tar or other foreign substances
marred the gleaming surfaces. He bought the bike, but was so impressed with
the bike's condition that he asked the former owner how he kept it so
spotless. The guy took a tube of Vaseline out of his pocket and said, `I
keep this Vaseline and a rag with me at all times. If I go out and see that
my bike has been rained on, I immediately take out the Vaseline and polish
it up. Since you have my bike now, I won't need the Vaseline so I'm giving
it to you.'"

"The buyer thanked the seller and pocketed the Vaseline, announcing that he
was taking his new bike over to his girl friend's house to give her a
ride. When he arrived there, she rushed out to see his bike and said, `I'm
so glad you came just now. We've been invited to my parents' for dinner. I
know you've never met them.' `We can kill two birds with one stone,' the
guy said. `I was going to give you a ride, so we can use my bike to go to
your parents' house'."

"On the way over, the girl said to her boyfriend, `Oh there's one thing I
need to tell you. My parents are a bit strange. Whoever talks at dinner has
to do the dishes, so don't talk whatever you do'."

"The guy thought that it was weird, but didn't say anything. He understood
though when he walked into the house. There were dirty dishes everywhere!
The living room had dishes, dishes were stacked in the corners of the
dining room, the kitchen was awash with dirty dishes."

"The dinner was nice, but strange since no one talked. It bugged the guy so
much that he decided to put it to a test once they had finished dessert. He
grabbed his girlfriend, threw her on the table and had his way with her,
right in front of her parents."

"No one said a thing."

"It bugged him even more so he grabbed his girlfriend's mother and threw
her on the table and ravished her as well."

"No one said a thing."

"When he had finished with the mother, he looked out the window and saw
that it had been raining on his bike. He pulled the tube of Vaseline out of
his pocket.

"His girlfriend's father took one look and shouted, `Okay, I'll do the
damned dishes'!"

Chris cracked up laughing. I was so pleased to see his cute smile. Maybe he
was getting over the trauma of being rejected by his parents.

"What do you want to do tonight?" I asked.

"I don't know I'm so tired and sore," Chris answered. "I feel that every
time I move something hurts."

"Maybe we could just chill out and watch a movie or something," I
suggested. "We're also invited out later to the beach at Huntington with a
bunch of my friends if you want to go."

"I'm not sure about meeting your friends yet," Chris said. "I vote for the
movies.

"It's still early so we have time to do both if we want," I informed my new
brother. "I've got probably 200 movies. Some are VHS and the newer ones are
on CD's."

"I probably haven't seen many of them," Chris responded. "If it wasn't on
TV, I doubt if I've seen it as my parents never had the money for a movie
theater."

"You've never gone to a movie theater?" I asked in shock.

"No," Chris replied looking downcast.

"Let's go to the movies tonight then," I suggested.

"Are you asking me for a date?" Chris asked with a sly grin.

"Well... yes, I guess," I stammered.

"I accept," Chris replied. "How will we know what's playing?"

"We'll go to one of the multi-screen theaters," most of them are playing
everything that's new. The only problem is what time the feature
starts. You can only go in at the beginning. It seems weird but my parents
told me that when they were little and they had theaters with only one
screen, you went whenever you wanted. You might get there in the middle of
a picture, so you watched the ending, then afterward watched the
beginning."

"That's really strange," Chris agreed. "I guess it worked though."

"We can go whenever you like," I offered. "We'll buzz by the theater, and
if the movie we want to watch is not starting for a while, we'll go over to
Cart World and race in some gocarts until it's time for the movie."

"That would be so cool," Chris said enthusiastically. "I've never done that
either."

"It's time for your education then," I said. "Grab a sweater in case it
gets cool, and we'll go."

			* * *

Chris' POV

The movie was great! We had about 45 minutes before it began so after we
paid for the tickets we went to the gocart place. What a blast!  Even
though I had a driver's license, I had rarely driven as we only had one car
and my dad had it most of the time. The only time I got to drive it was
when he wanted to stay home and mother wanted or needed something from the
grocery or drug store. It was fun to drive something that went fast and you
didn't have to worry about it breaking down.

Returning to the chosen movie we went inside and after loading up with
popcorn, drinks and candy, sat together in the back. I couldn't believe how
much we spent at the refreshment stand. It was more than the movie tickets!
Jeff must have been showing off for me, buying all that food, or something
because I still felt pretty full from dinner.

Sitting away from others we settled back, digging into our snacks, waiting
for the movie to begin. I was stuffed by the time the lights dimmed and the
previews came on. I couldn't believe how huge the picture screen appeared
and how great the sound-system was. I knew that we had a theater room at
`home' that was a smaller version of the movie theater we were in, but I
never imagined that a real theater would be so great. I'd only watched
movies on the 21-inch TV my parents had.

Halfway through the movie I felt Jeff's hand on mine. I turned my hand over
and Jeff enveloped it with his own. For the first time I felt connected
with my handsome friend.  I still couldn't believe that Jeff was attracted
to me, but there it was; my hand in his. I looked at Jeff's face and he was
wearing a shit-eating grin as he stared straight ahead. I had completely
lost track of the movie and sat there enjoying the closeness I was feeling.

When the lights finally came up, Jeff released my hand and we filed out of
the theater.

"Wanna try the beach?" he asked.

"I'd rather not," I replied. "I'm really kind of tired and if we're playing
golf in the morning we probably shouldn't stay up too late."

"I guess you're right," he conceded. "I'll call my friend and tell him
we'll get together another time."

"You're welcome to go by yourself," I offered. "You'd probably have more
fun without me."

"Not on your life Chrissie," Jeff said smiling. "I don't know if I've told
you, but I savor every minute I spend with you. I've never felt this way
with any other guy."

"I haven't either," I confessed. "I sure never thought I'd ever find
someone as wonderful as you."

"Now who's trying to get into whose knickers?" Jeff asked with a soft
laugh.

"Can't fault a guy for tryin'," I philosophized.

"Be careful what you wish for," Jeff warned. "I've never wanted anyone like
I want you. I'm almost afraid to start something because I know I won't
want to stop."

"I know," I agreed. "I feel the same way and it scares me."

By this time we were nearly home. Jeff reached up to the visor of his car
and pressed a button. I could see down the street that the large iron gates
were swinging open for our entry. Jeff pulled up the drive and drove around
to the garage, pressing another button, causing the garage door to roll
up. We parked and entered the house, hand in hand. Even though it was only
11:00 the house was quiet and dark with only the night-lights lit. Jeff
didn't turn on the lights but crossed the dimly lit spaces to the large
stairway going to our rooms. When we reached the doorway to mine, Jeff
pulled me close and kissed me softly on the lips.

Separating after the long kiss, Jeff said smiling, "I'm glad you kiss on
the first date."

"I hope you'll respect me in the morning," I kidded back.

Jeff laughed then turned serious.

"Chris, tonight was the best time I've had in a long time. Thank you."

"It was more than a treat for me," I replied." I got to experience a bunch
of things I'd never done before, but the best part was being with you. I
feel like I'm in a dream."

"If it's a dream, then I don't want to wake up," he replied. "You don't
know how much I want to spend the night with you, but for now I guess we'd
better just kiss and say good night. We've only known each other a few
days, and I don't want to scare you off."

"I'm sorry I'm such a coward," I said. "Every fiber of my being wants to
sleep with you, but my mind is still in turmoil. Thank you for being
patient."

"I'll wait as long as I have to," Jeff promised. "I just want you to know
that for me, this is not just lust, though there is plenty of that. I think
I'm falling in love with you."

"I feel the same way too. I just can't believe it's real yet," I explained
my reluctance. "These past few days have been like a dream. I just want to
be sure that I'm not going to wake up and find you gone."

"I'll give you time, Chris. What I'm feeling is not going to go
away. Goodnight Babe. Sleep tight. The next voice you'll here will be me
waking you up for golf."

"I can hardly wait," I said looking up and the ceiling.

"I can tell," Jeff laughed. "Goodnight again."

With that, Jeff moved in and laid a killer kiss on my lips. At that moment
I was ready to do whatever he wanted. Instead he pulled away, gave my hand
a final squeeze and walked reluctantly toward his door.

		* * * We arose early the next morning, and slipped
downstairs after dressing to grab a bite before heading to the Club. Mom
and Pop joined us before we were finished, and we wished them a fun time on
their European trip. They gave us hugs and told us to have fun while they
were gone before pushing us out the door.

8:00 AM found us standing on the first tee at the club. Jeff had bought me
shoes, a golf glove, and had borrowed his dad's clubs for our outing. I was
equipped with golf tees, golf balls, a digger to fix divots, and sported a
new golf hat. The early morning fog was lifting and we were the fourth
group to tee off, but the only one as a twosome.  We had arrived 45 minutes
earlier and had spent the time warming up at the driving range and had
putted a little on one of the practice greens.

"After you," Jeff offered when it was time to hit.

I stepped up to the tee box, planted a tee with a ball on top, and stepped
back to address the ball. I took a practice swing as Jeff had shown me,
then stepped up to the ball. On my first swing I missed the ball
completely. I was completely embarrassed.

"If you don't hit the ball, it doesn't count," Jeff assured
me. "Relax. Don't try to kill the ball. The object is to hit the ball in
the middle of the club. Remember all your practice."

I looked down the fairway. It looked so far down to the green. I gulped,
addressed the ball and took another swing. This time I hit the middle of
the ball with the edge of the club, and it squirted down that fairway about
30 yards.

"You could play that," Jeff observed, "but I think it's time for a
mulligan."

"What's a mulligan?"

"It's a free shot. When you're not playing serious, the players agree on
having one or two mulligans a round.  Hit again."

 I put another ball on a tee and swung again. This time the ball flew. It
traveled maybe 160 yards, barely landing on the short fairway grass."

"Not bad," Jeff observed as he took my place on the tee box. He placed his
ball, addressed it with his pre-driving routine, then swung. The club
whistled through the air, striking the ball in the center of the club and
driving it into the center of the `short grass'. The ball looked like it
was going into orbit! It took off in a slow swoop, then kept climbing,
finally dropping almost from sight as it landed 300 yards down the fairway.

"Not bad," I kidded back in awe.

"I've been practicing," Jeff commented with a wink.

We returned to the cart and headed off for our round. By the time we were
through, I was thoroughly humbled. I had shot 105 and Jeff had scored a
74. In spite of my feeble showing, I had had a great time. Jeff was
constantly encouraging and coaching me without being critical, even when I
had a bad shot. As we drove the cart to the drop off area, he looked at me
with a huge smile.

"I can't believe how well you played," he complimented.

"Yeah I scared a lot of ground squirrels," I retorted.

"Hey. Don't put yourself down. I've played with guys who have had years of
experience but shot no better than you did on your first time out. Sure we
have some work to do, but I'm really encouraged by how well you're
doing. I've known guys that have taken several months to break 100. Look
how close you came on the first time. If your putting had been just a bit
better, you would have broken 100 easily."

"I'm glad you think I did well Jeff, but I felt awkward the whole round."

"That will change. Believe me," Jeff countered. "I'm sure I didn't break
100 any of the first few times I played. Of course I started off at a
younger age."

"How long have you been playing?" I asked.

"Since I was seven," Jeff replied.

"Yikes!  You've been playing over 10 years?"

"Yep," he responded. "Though I predict that you'll break 90 before the
summer's out, and maybe score better than that."

"I guess that means more practice on the driving range, huh?"

"Every day, Babe. Every day."

I thought I would faint.

JEFF'S POV

That Chris is something else!  Not only is he cute, he's talented. I don't
mean just in writing either. I sense a latent athletic talent that I must
see realized. I hope I don't wear him out pushing him.

The previous night was phenomenal!  I wasn't joking when I told him how
much I enjoyed it. What happened to my heart was unexpected though. I mean,
I thought he was cute from the beginning, and he turned me on, yet last
night was the first time that our hearts really spoke. I knew that falling
for him would complicate my life, but my heart didn't listen to the
reasoning of my head. I just knew that he had captured my heart and I vowed
somehow to get him to feel the same way about me. He seemed to be falling
for me too, yet had a fear or reluctance to get more involved. It had me a
bit baffled.

His performance on the golf course was more than I had hoped for. A 105 on
a pretty demanding course is not bad for a casual golfer but is almost
unbelievable for a first timer. I think watching me hit was a bit
intimidating for him, but I assured him that he was playing much better
than I had ever expected. It was true too.

I could see that by the time we were done, he was tired. He had complained
before we teed off that his muscles were still sore, but I was not
surprised that they would be after the regimen that I had set up. I knew it
would take a while. Athletic skills have to be built on a lot of
practice. I was sure that being a skilled lover took practice too. I
couldn't wait to start finding out!

Returning home I suggested that we should shower, then Chris could rest or
do whatever he wanted while I practiced the piano. When I finished, I
looked into his room. He was dead to the world. I let him sleep, waking him
only when it was time for dinner.  During the evening we watched a movie in
our theater room and went to bed early after repeating the hand holding and
kissing from the preceding night. Sunday is a day of rest and we took
advantage of it by sleeping in until almost 10 `clock. We went out for
brunch, then took a ride up the coast before returning home to just
hang-out for the rest of the day. That night I asked Chris to spend the
night in my bed. He paused and thought about it, then declined. I was
disappointed, but not heartbroken. I'd only known Chris a week, I
reasoned. I shouldn't expect too much, too soon.

The next week started off as planned and the schedule I had set up was
adhered to without fail. Chris made rapid progress in his athletic
development. We even took some time to shoot some baskets and throw a
baseball around a bit. He wasn't very good at first but picked up the
techniques with minimal instructions. I was surprised and pleased, and told
him so.  He seemed to be eating it up so I stepped up the pace. `This boy
is gonna be an athlete,' I promised myself.

On Wednesday afternoon while I was practicing the piano the phone
rang. Frank answered the call, then announced that it was Mr. Jepperson,
the Principal from our school.

"Hello, Mr. Jepperson," I said into the receiver. "I'm surprised to hear
from you. What can I help you with?"

"I'm glad I caught you," he responded. "I was afraid you might be away on
vacation."

"We hope to get away before school starts," I replied, "But as of now,
we're just home, working out and practicing golf." "I'm sure your
leadership on the golf team will bring honor to our school as well as your
leadership in our student government," he said. "Now for the reason for my
call. As you might know, I work during the summer at the Boys' and Girls'
Club camp at Big Bear. It just starts this week. One of our counselors
broke his leg this morning and is `out of pocket' for at least three
weeks. His friend who is also a counselor took him home and won't return
until his friend is well enough to come back too. It's put us into a real
bind. I called you, hoping that you might know one or two students from our
school who could fill in for three weeks."

"Wow! That's too bad about the accident." I responded. "Let me check
around. Give me your number and I'll call you back before noon
tomorrow. I'll do my best."

After reciting the number, Jepperson added, "The pay is not too good. It's
$100 travel money, and $80 a week for three weeks."

"I'm sure that the biggest advantage is the good experience," I countered,
"not the money."

"That's what we promote when we hire counselors," he responded. "I'll wait
anxiously for your call."

"Thank you sir. I'll try not to let you down."  I hung up the phone and
pondered his request, racking my brain to think of someone who might be
interested.

"Who was that?" Chris asked entering the room after descending the
stairs. He'd been reading in his room while I practiced.

"It was Mr. Jepperson from our school."

"The Principal?  What could he want at the beginning of the summer?" Chris
asked.

"He runs a Boys' and Girls' Club camp at Big Bear. One of the counselors
broke his leg and his friend, who was also a counselor, took him home.
Mr. Jepperson is short two counselors and called to see if I knew anyone
who might fill in for three weeks."

"Did you tell him that we'd do it?' Chris asked.

		* * * * *