Tickle-Monster Raisin-Man

The back porch door slammed shut against it's frame as the children waited at the breakfast table to see who had come to visit. They had a pretty good idea of who it might be. The milk house vacuum pump had shut off for the second time a few minutes earlier. That usually meant that Uncle Clyde had just finished running the cleaning cycle in the milk house which was almost immediately followed by his visit to the farmhouse. The six panel yellow pine door swung into the kitchen and revealed the large yet slightly stooped-over broad-shouldered frame of their great Uncle Clyde. He wore a loose fitting pair of worn blue jeans and an unbuttoned flannel shirt over a light green tee shirt. He topped off his ensemble with an over-sized floppy hat. The hat was black with a golden design and a smaller than average bill. 

The children erupted in exuberant cheers upon the appearance of their favorite great uncle. Clyde Henning was their grandpa Henning's older brother. He had flown B-17 airplanes in World War II and, despite his advanced age, still had a muscled frame that boasted of decades of hard work.

“Ohhh ho ho,” he laughed as he sauntered into the kitchen and sat down on an oak chair. “I've got mail for everybody!”

He proceeded to hand a piece of junk mail to every one of the five children at the table before handing the important mail to Christa. Christa chuckled at the excitement of her children at the worthless pieces of papers they had just received. Every piece was addressed to the current resident, not to each specific child, but they were too young to notice or too excited to care. As the children finished their breakfast, they jumped down from their respective seats and ran over to Uncle Clyde.

“Raisins! Raisins! Raisins!” they exclaimed in turn. 

Uncle Clyde fished a well worn plastic baggy out of his shirt pocket and gingerly picked out one yellow raisin. He held the small piece of dried fruit in his gigantic palm for one of the children to pick up. Just as the small fingers of the child were about to grasp the raisin, the mischievous old man rolled the small treat to his fingers and allowed it to drop through to his hand underneath. 

“Wup, you missed it, there it is!” he exclaimed as he moved his bottom hand above his top hand.

The child cried out in mock anguish as Uncle Clyde dropped the raisin through his fingers again and again until the child was finally able to get a hold of it and shove the small yellow snack into his mouth. Uncle Clyde went through this routine with every one of the five children, making sure that each child had just as difficult of a time as the child before. 

Christa handed Uncle Clyde a cup of milk. She had offered him coffee once but was informed that coffee was not to the older man's liking. Apparently, he had tried it once when he was in the Air Force and had declared that he had never tried anything before that had smelled so good, yet tasted so horrible. He took a sip of the unpasteurized unfiltered farm-fresh whole milk and let out a sigh of satisfaction. The children threw themselves into his lap one at a time, only to be tickled until they squirmed from their perch. This went on until Uncle Clyde's milk was gone. 

When he stood up to leave, the children protested with excessive conviction by blocking his path. He simply picked them up in turn, held them upside down by their legs, and tickled them until they cried uncle...Uncle Clyde that is. Eventually, Uncle Clyde found himself on the other side of the kid barricade. He opened the back porch door and backed out of the kitchen, pushing the children back into the kitchen while simultaneously closing the door behind him. Once the door clicked shut, he pulled another well-worn baggy from his pocket and pinched a clump of comfrey leaves in his large fingertips and placed the leaves in his mouth. He walked out the back porch door leaving a room full of hyper children and one slightly frustrated mother of those recently hyperized children.

“He always does that,” Christa chuckled wryly. “Gets the kids all worked up and leaves me to deal with them. I might be frustrated if we didn't love his so much.”

Accidental Pyromaniac

The sun was just shining through the windows over the sink as Scott dried the last few of the family's lunchtime Corelle Ware dishes. The green clock numbers on the stove read 1:09. Thirteen-year-old Kerry took note of the time as she made her way towards the back porch. She was on her way to the summer house for some of her off season school supplies. (The family was home schooling at this point, though they were on summer vacation. They completed a large amount of their schooling task in the summer house.) She had an “art” project on her personal agenda for the afternoon and found the household supplies lacking. 

As she walked through the back porch, a large scented candle on the top of a cabinet caught her eye. She paused mid-stride to watch the flickering flame for a moment. That moment turned into another moment because she saw a container of rubber cement on the other side of their sink.

“Hmm,” she mused to herself as she pushed her better judgment from her consciousness. “I've never tried that contraption before. (She meant concoction.)”

She picked up the rubber cement and unscrewed the lid. She pulled the brush from the container, watching the stream of glue slowly flow back into the container. She carried the bottle over to the cabinet that held the candle. Without taking a single micro-second to consider the consequences, she held the rubber cement wand above the candle. The small flame of the candle flared considerably as the adhesive met with it's flickering point. Kerry watched in awe, completely thrilled with the results of her experiment. 

Her excitement turned to mild concern as the flame of the candle seemed to climb up the glue towards her fingers. Her fingers twitched slightly as she struggled with the decision of what she should do with her growing wand of flame. She picked up the bottle of glue just as the rising fire reached the bristles of the brush and made a hurried attempt to shove the brush back in the bottle. The remaining glue within the bottle flamed to life almost immediately. She dropped the bottle on the top of the cabinet as the heat of her hand-held fire grew to an intensity beyond her ability to bare. Finally, with the severity of the situation having grown beyond her ability to control, she called for help.

“Fire! Help there's a fire!” she cried out, not knowing who would respond.

Scott appeared in the doorway of the back porch almost immediately. He had an open bag of all-purpose flower in his right hand and a look of considerable concern on his face. He rushed over to the cabinet as his mother filled the doorway in his absence. He grabbed the candle and the flaming rubber cement bottle in turn and dropped them into the sink. As soon the burning containers hit the flat bottom of the sink, the seventeen-year-old dusted the burning masses with a considerable layer of flour. 

“That was so stupid! I don't know why I did that! That was so stupid!” Kerry exclaimed as the flames died down.

“Yeah Kerry,” her older brother replied. “It really was.”

Scott sprinkled the contents of the sink with a little more flour for good measure as Christa stood in the doorway with her hands over her mouth and her eyes wide in unadulterated surprise. The last remaining flicker of flame struggled for air and fuel as it dwindled out of existence. The smell of smoke, rubber cement, and artificial vanilla hung thick in the air as the dramatic tension faded. All three participants in the pyro-event slowly surveyed the damage. The smoldering contents of the sink became an clumpy slimy mixture of adhesive, flour, and candle wax. The ceiling above the cabinet and sink was stained from the smoke. Christa opened the back porch door to allow the room to air out as Scott walked towards the kitchen.

“Welp,” Scott commented as he walked through the doorway. “Looks like you have a mess to clean up, Lizzy.”

Easter Sunday

“Honey,” Christa gently addressed her sleeping eight-year-old. “It's time to get up.”

“Mmm,” Scott replied with his eyes still closed. “I'm still sleepy. I don't want to get up.”

Christa shrugged her shoulders in mock indifference as she replied, “Okay, I guess I'll just let your brothers and sisters divi-up your Easter candy then.”

“Easter candy?” Scott replied as his eyes shot open. “It's Easter today?”

“Yes dear, it is,” Christa smiled. “But Easter baskets are only for children who are awake and fully dressed. Everyone else is downstairs waiting for you because Daddy won't let them have their baskets until everyone is up.”

Scott launched himself out of bed, somehow managing to do so without knocking his dome off of the bottom side of the top bunk. He ran over to the closet to grab some clothes.

“No, honey,” his mother interrupted. “I already have your clothes picked out.”

Scott turned towards his mother. His heart sank when he saw the outfit that hung on the hanger in her hands. A pastel pink button up dress shirt hung on a hanger over a pair of dark blue slacks. His mother held a clip on tie and a pair of penny loafers in her other hand.

“Mommy,” Scott began with a sigh of vexation. “That is pink. Pink is for girls.”

“Not on Easter,” Christa countered. “Pink is for everyone on Easter. Come on, you can dress downstairs.” 

Scott sighed as he followed his mother downstairs. As he turned the corner into the living room, he realized that he would not be the only on sentenced to a morning in pink. Both of his sisters were dressed in pink and white dresses with lacy sleeve cuffs. They didn't mind of course. They were both twirling back and forth, watching their dresses flare out as they turned. Their delight was made evident by their constant giggles. His brothers were not so pleased. They wore the same outfit that waited for Scott. Judging by their demeanor, they were just as pleased with the situation as Scott was. Scott glanced at his father and was greeted by a knowing smile. It was immediately evident that he would get no sympathy from the head of the household.

Laid out on the couch were five wicker baskets filled to the brim with plastic eggs and small toys all nestled together in a bed of artificial grass. Scott kept his eyes on the prize as he pulled his slacks up around his waist and buttoned up his shirt. When he got to the bottom button, he found that he didn't have a hole in which to place the final button.

“Mommy,” he said as he tried to hide his jubilation. “I can't wear this shirt because it's missing a button hole. I will just go get another shirt.”

“Now wait just a minute, young man,” Christa replied, stopping him in his tracks. “You've just buttoned your shirt crooked. Come here so I can fix it.”

Scott exhaled in disappointment and walked over to his mother. She had him unbuttoned and re-buttoned in no time. She tenderly tucked in his shirt and fastened his belt before bringing the whole ensemble together with a navy blue clip-on tie. 

“Well don't you look hansom,” she exclaimed with pride.

“I guess if you think so,” Scott sighed. “Can we at least have our candy now?”

“Yes you MAY,” Dale responded with a chuckle. (Had his son not been so disappointed by his wardrobe situation, Dale's response might have been “I don't know. Can you?” However, given Scott's disposition, he simply settled for the over-enunciated may.)

The children took off towards their baskets and dug in. They pulled their items out of their respective baskets with considerable haste, laying them out on the floor so they could take stock of their Easter haul. The older children gave their parents knowing looks of thanks as the younger two discussed how nice the Easter Bunny was this year. Dale and Christa gave their children a few minutes before instructing them to stow their Easter treats and reassemble in the kitchen for breakfast.

With breakfast out of the way, the family piled into their blue Astro van and headed off to church. They made their way into the sanctuary just as the worship leader was instructing everyone to stand for the first hymn. Dale picked up three-year-old Kerry and perched her on the back of the pew in front of them. He held her with one hand and held a hymnal in the other as the whole sanctuary sang Up From the Grave He Arose. Scott watched his father sing and noticed that he wasn't singing the same tune as everyone else. It was different but it sounded really good. He turned back to the hymnal he was sharing with his older brother. He would have preferred to hold the hymnal himself, but the family pecking order dictated that Caleb be the keeper of the hymnal if he wanted to be... and he wanted. 

After the song, the congregation sat down for the scripture reading from John chapter twenty. Scott liked it when the scripture was a story. The story of Jesus' resurrection was particularly engaging, even when Pastor Matthews read it in his slightly monotone manner. He never understood how nobody recognized Jesus. Not Mary Magdalene or the men on the road to Emmaus. Thomas didn't believe Jesus rose from the dead until he stuck his fingers in Jesus' hands and his hand in Jesus' side. Eww. He said he was going to rise from the dead. How could they all forget something so important?

Special music that day was the church's male quartet. Dale was the tenor. The boys watched as their father sang with the other men. Caleb leaned over to whisper something into his bother's ear.

“Isn't it funny how dad is the biggest man up there but he has the highest singing voice?”

Scott looked towards the stage and nodded. The song ended and Dale returned to his seat. The sermon was a little shorter than usual. (Dale later said it was because everyone had a ham in the oven at home.) The congregation sang a couple more hymns and the service ended at eleven o'clock sharp. The Henning family made their way to towards the back door of the sanctuary. The childre filed past the pastor, taking turns shaking his hand. They stood out front waiting as their parents chit-chatted with the pastor. 

“Boy, I hope they finish talking before we starve to death,” Scott and his stomach commented with some sarcasm.

“Trust me,” Caleb replied. “You are not going to starve to death. If anyone does, it'll be Lukey because he's so skinny.”

“I'm not even hungry right now,” Luke interjected. 

“And that's why you're so skinny,” Kelsey declared.

The children laughed as their parents finally walked through the door. Christa picked up her youngest daughter and instructed the remaining children to hold hands as the crossed the street together. They boarded the family van and headed home. The family only lived a few mile from the church. Christa always joked that they lived that close so they could leave late and still get to church on time. It was pretty difficult for the family of seven to get anywhere on time. It seemed that just when she got all the kids ready, on of them managed to not be ready to go anymore.

When the family got home, Christa sent her children to their rooms to change, giving them special instructions to replace their Easter clothes on their hangers and not to eat too much candy so as to spoil their appetites for lunch. The boys were eager to ditch their pink shirts, but the girls wanted to keep their pretty dresses on and voiced their opinions quite emphatically.

“Okay, girls,” their mother relented. “You can keep your dresses on but you'll have to wear a bib at lunch. I don't want you to stain your pretty dresses.”

Caleb, Scott, and Luke ran upstairs to change their clothes and returned wearing jeans and t-shirts. All three boys had stuffed their cheeks with chocolate and were making every effort not to be overly obvious about it. Luke gave them away, however, when he asked his mother to help him button his pants.

“Are you eating chocolate?” Christa asked. (The question was rhetorical. She knew very well that he was.) 

Luke's gaze dropped for a moment before he replied.

“Well,” he began with some hesitation. “Caleb and Scott are eating candy too.”

“Don't be a tattletale,” Christa chuckled. “No more candy until after lunch. Say deal.”

“Deal,” Luke dutifully replied before running back to his brothers.

It wasn't long before dinner was ready. Dale called the children to the table. At the head of the table was a large ham on a pfalzgraff platter. The green beans, corn, bread, and potatoes were overlooked completely as the children oohed and ahhed over the hunk of meat at the end of the table. The boys sat on one side of the table while the girls took their place on the other side. They all held hands and bowed their head as their father prayed over their meal.

“Dear Lord, we thank you for the food that you have provided for us today and we thank you so much for your sacrifice on the cross. Without your sacrifice we would be lost. We thank you for rising from the dead so that we could worship you for your sacrifice. We pray this all in your precious name, amen.”

Kid-Chain Fence-Shocking

“Hey guys,” five-year-old Kerry greeted her older siblings. “What are you gonna do today?”

The older four sat around the breakfast table trying to finish their corn flakes before it got soggy. The sun was shining in through the windows above the sink and stove which provided enough motivation for the children to finish their breakfast in an efficient manner. There hadn't been an over abundance of beautiful spring days at that point in the season and the Henning five didn't want to miss out on an opportunity to enjoy it on that particular Saturday.

“I'm not sure,” Caleb replied with a mouth full of cereal. “I'm sure we'll figure something out.”

The children finished their cereal and drank the left over milk from their bowls. Caleb and Scott pipe. There were three swings and a pare of parallel bars that ran from the swing set to the summer house.

The three swings were occupied immediately by the younger three children. Caleb swung back and forth across the parallel bars while Scott ran the gauntlet through the moving swings. Sometimes he was able to get all the way through the improvised obstacle course in one shot but usually he had to stop in between swings and suck his gut in so as to avoid an unusual weight loss technique. Every once in a while, one of his sibling clipped his shoulders sending the swing into an erratic and twisted trajectory. This was the cause of an occasional grunt on Scott's part and peals of laughter on the part of the colliding sibling.

After a while, the children got bored and found themselves congregating by the south barrier of the barnyard in front of the big red bank barn. Occasionally, the children would hang around there in an attempt to get some of the members of the family's dairy heard to take grass from their hands. The animals were elsewhere on this particular day and were unavailable for feeding. Caleb walked up to the fence and absentmindedly reached out and grabbed the wire between two barbs. Scott reached out and gave his older brother a good natured shove just as the pulsing fencer sent a charge through the wire. (The fencer was the box that regulated the charge that was sent through the fence to discourage the cows from pushing through the fence. The fencer sent a charge through the fence every second. The charge pulsed to prevent any danger to the animals or in this case, the children.)

“Ow!” both boys exclaimed as they jumped away from the barnyard.

“That hurt,” Caleb continued. “Wait, why did you yell?”

“Because I got shocked to,” Scott replied, eyes wide with surprise. “Why did I get shocked? I wasn't touching the wire.”

The boys looked at each other, both equally eager to figure out the answer to this very important question. They looked at their younger three siblings who had been watching intently and then back at each other with a nod of agreement. Scott reached out and took Kelsey's hand in his left an Caleb's hand in his right. Caleb breathed deeply, psyching himself up for what he was about to do. He reached out and grabbed the fence again. The three children waited for a second before jumping simultaneously away from the fence shaking the shock out of their hands.

“Ow!” Kelsey exclaimed. “Why did you shock me, Scott? That was mean.”

“You got shocked too?” Scott asked his whimpering sister.

“Yeah,” she replied with a pouty face. “That hurt.”

“Hmm,” Caleb mused. “I guess the shock goes all the way through. I wonder how far it will go...” he finished as he glanced at his youngest brother and sister. 

He looked at Kelsey and nodded at his youngest brother, Luke. 

“Kelsey,” he began. “Hold Luke's hand, will ya? And Luke, hold Kerry's hand.”

“I don't know if I want to do this,” Kelsey muttered as she reached for Luke's hand.

“Oh, don't be such a baby,” Scott teased as he grabbed her hand. “It's just a little shock.”

“Lukey,” Kerry began. “Why comes you holdin' my hand?”

“I don't know,” Luke muttered. “Cause Caleb told me to, I guess.”

Caleb, having come to the conclusion that there was continuity across the sibling chain, reached out and took the electric fence firmly in his grasp. The resulting shock was nearly immediate. All five children yelled and screamed in unison as the electricity passed through them. They jumped back, causing the younger two children to land on their rumps in the grassy strip between the barnyard and the drive.

“Owie,” Kerry wined. “That hurted my hand.”

“You felt that, Lizzy?” Caleb prodded in true scientific fashion.

“Yes I did,” she responded. “And I didn't like it.”(Kerry answered to both her real name and the nickname Lizzy. Her middle name was Elizabeth. Her nickname was assigned to her to alleviate the confusion that was caused by the question “Who's going to carry Kerry?”)

The older four Hennings laughed at their sisters response to the experiment. Kerry maintained her pout as long as she could, but eventually joined in with the rest of her siblings. Once the good humor had fully returned to the group, Caleb set about to verify their findings with a duplicate experiment. He didn't say what he was doing when he held out his hand to Scott, but everyone but Lizzy was well aware of the plans. Once the sibling chain was reestablished, Caleb grabbed the fence one more time. The results were exactly the same as before. The shock pulsed through the children causing the five of them to exclaim and jump back from the fence. Four out of five of them laughed while the fifth just got up, crossed her arms, and turned towards the house.

“Wait, wait, wait!” Scott called after his baby sister. “Where are you going?

“I am done. Period,” she replied forcefully. “You guys tricked me again. You knowed I didn't want to get shocked again but you shockded me any ways.”

Scott looked as his brothers and sister and shrugged his shoulders. 

“I guess she's done,” he commented nonchalantly. 

“We'd better go with her so she doesn't get us in trouble,” Caleb chuckled.

“You think we're gonna get in trouble?” Kelsey asked with some concern in her eyes.

“Only if we can't make her happy before she gets to the house,” Scott replied as the four of them took off after their little sister.

Swinging on the Vines

Scott, Luke, Samuel, and Benjamin stood on a steep hill in the woods on the northeastern corner of the Henning family farm. The hill they were on was quite steep. The three boys steadied themselves against a couple of trees as they looked out and absorbed the sight before them. 

The ground before and below them was covered in a thick layer of leaves that had accumulated unhindered for years. As they kicked at the ground underneath their feet, the leaves got smaller and damper until they reached the layer of peat and dirt underneath. It was early spring and the air was cool. The shaded area around them would be much more shaded in a few weeks when the trees above them were covered in bright green leaves. He air was clear and crisp but smelled a little heavy because of the moisture in the air around them and the damp leaves under their feet. The damp leaves added a unique quality to the smell of their environment. It was almost musty, but not quite. There was a sweetness to the odor that was hard to describe. 

The sounds of the woods were equally mesmerizing. The branches of the trees rustled and creaked as they were teased by the winds that buffeted the hills of the farm. The birds chirped and whistled in the trees. Squirrels scampered across the ground and up the trees where they ran across tree branches that the boys were certain were way to small to support the weight of the small animals. The puffy tails of the small rodents jerked from side to side in an effective attempt to maintain balance until the small creatures reached the ends of their branches where they leaped with apparent reckless abandon to other branches belonging to a different trees. Lager animals made fleeting appearances as well. A few white tailed deer wandered about on the opposite side of the wooded valley while evidence of other smaller animals was unmistakable in the cover of the forest floor.

Luke finally broke the silence.

“Well,” he began. “How about this one” 

He reached out and grabbed a thick scaly vine and looked to his older brother for confirmation of the wisdom of his choice. Scott walked forward, being careful to maintain his balance on the steep terrain, and firmly grasped the vine before him. He gave it a series of sharp tugs until he was reassured of the structural integrity of the wild grape vine.

“Yeah,” he nodded as he reached into his pocket for his hand-me-down Leatherman pocket knife. “I think this one will do nicely.”

He got down on his knees and began sawing away at the base of the vine with the saw blade of his multi-tool. It took him nearly a full minute to get through the two and a half inch thick vine. Finally, the vine broke free of it's own root. Benjamin caught the vine as Scott folded his knife up and returned it to it's rightful place in his pocket.

“Okay,” Samuel smile. “Who wants to give this thing a try first?”

“I think Scott should go first,” Luke stated confidently. “He's definitely the heaviest person here. If it holds him, it'll hold everyone.”

Scott looked at his prominent paunch with some embarrassment. In most cases, he might rush to defend himself against what he may have considered a 'fat joke.' However, in this case his weight had provided him with some advantage in that he got be the first one to swing on the vine. Of course, being the family vine tester definitely had it's risks. For instance, the vine they had chosen was about half way up a steep embankment. The projected path of the vine would swing the rider over the ravine in front of the boys so that, should the vine fail, the fall would be well over twenty feet and there was no telling how far down the embankment one would slide before coming to a stop. The stop was the most dangerous part of such a ride as it would most likely be the stout trunk of a tree that would provide the stopping power. 

“Welp,” Scott shrugged. “We didn't come all the way out here just for the scenery.”

He took the vine from his youngest cousin's hands and walked up the steep hill as far as the vine would allow. He firmly grasped the vine at chest level and inhaled deeply. He jumped from his spot on the hill and held on tightly as the ground dropped quickly out from underneath him. He looked down with wide eyes at the ground far below and gripped the vine tighter as the ride seemed to pause for a split second before swinging back to the hill. He dropped to the ground and slid to a stop with the vine still in hand.

“Wow!” he exclaimed to his companions. “That was cool! And a little scary...”

“But you made it!” Benjamin exclaimed. “And the vine held up just fine. Luke, you're next.”

“Wait, what?” Luke asked as he surveyed the valley below. “I mean, absolutely I'm next.”

He grabbed the vine and followed his older brother's example with equal success. His assessment of the experience was identical to that of his brother's: way cool and kinda scary. Samuel, the oldest of the Jonathan cousins went next.

“Okay, Ben,” He prompted. “It's your turn. Just hold on tight and don't look down.”

“But keep your eyes open 'cause you need to see to land,” Scott added.

“Right,” Benjamin nodded as he grabbed the vine with some apprehension. “I think I'm just going to start from here.”

He walked the vine about half as high up the hill as his older companions. He pulled himself up on the vine and swung away fro the hill. The vine returned him safely with a smooth landing.

“That wasn't so bad,” he nodded with relief. “Here you go, Scott. It's your turn.”

“Nah,” Scott responded. “You should go again. That was just half a ride.”

The four boys laughed as Benjamin accepted his cousin's offer to take another ride. This time he went a little farther up the hill and enjoyed a slightly more exhilarating ride. The boys took turns on the vine for almost an hour. They laughed at the excitement of swinging out over the deep ravine. 

Finally, they had enough and began the slow descent to the bottom of the ravine. The trip down was somewhat laborious. The trip up was easy. The boys just pushed from one tree to another, from one rock to the next, using both their arms and their legs to make their ascent. They had to be extremely careful of their footing because one misstep would send them sliding to the bottom leaving them with very little control over their direction of travel. To avoid this problem, the boys would pick a tree to aim towards and walk briskly until they more or less slammed against the trunk. They would stop for a moment to pick the next barrier to their descent and start again. This was the cycle, one tree to the next until Scott got tired of the slowness of their journey. 

He looked below him and saw that he had a clear path all the way to the bottom of the ravine. He sat on his rear, bit his fellow travelers adieu, and pushed of with both hands. He slid with increasing speed all the way to the bottom of the steep incline. He used his arms to balance himself as he slid until his rubber booted feet stuck in the mud at the bottom of the hill bringing his quick journey to a sudden stop. He pulled his feet out of the mud, taking a certain amount of joy in the sucking sound caused by the mud's hold on his boots. He stood to his feet and hopped across the small creek that ran along the bottom of the valley to a small sandbar of sorts. He turned back towards his brother and his cousins and proceeded to yell his assessment of the experience.

 

“Well, that was much faster,” he stated with excessive volume.

“It may have been faster but I'm not sure mom will appreciate what you just did to your pants,” Luke responded as he pointed at his older brother.

Scott instinctively felt the back of his pants and was surprised to feel his fingertips brush against the bare skin of the back of his thigh. He strained as he twisted his torso to get a good look at his pants and was dismayed to find a seven inch gash in his gray uniform pants.

“Oh well,” he said with as much confidence as he could project. “Good thing I wore work clothes. I still think it was worth it.”

The three boys on the hill shrugged their shoulders and followed their leader's example. They took turns sliding down the hill and found the experience to be quite enjoyable. Each boy checked his pants in turn to see if he had avoided Scott's fate. Though their mother's would most likely be frustrated by the dirt and leaf particles on their respective seats, Scott was indeed the only one to have experienced that particular wardrobe malfunction.

Scott shrugged his shoulders and turned towards the west incline of the ravine. He walked over to a small pool that was fed by a steady stream of water that flowed from a small hole in the side of the hill. The pool was actually a large cast iron pot that had been set into the ground by one of the previous Henning generations. Using both hands, Scott began to scoop the leaves and sediment out of the pot until the pot was completely empty except for water. The boys watched as the fresh water from the spring flowed into the pot. The water slowly went from dirty brown to crystal clear as the fresh water pushed the dirty water out. After a few minutes, Scott declared the water to be clean enough to drink. He placed one hand on either side of the pot and bent forward until his lips touched the cool clear surface of the water. He drank deeply of the fresh spring water until he had quenched his considerable thirst. He stood up and stepped aside so that his comrades could follow suit. 

“Well,” Scott declared after everyone had partaken of the spring water. “I suppose it's time to go back to the house. It's only a matter of time before we get a whistle.”

The other boys nodded and began the walked out of the woods. They followed the creek until they reached the edge of the woods. The spring sunshine greeted them as they left the woods behind.

“I'm glad we got to come up here for spring break,” Benjamin commented with contentment as the boys walked.

“Yeah,” Samuel agreed. “I miss the woods.” He looked at his older cousin and smiled. “Now we just gotta figure out what to do about those pants.”