Boys Life

supper I broached the subject. Bit the bullet. Took the bull by the horns. Jumped in headfirst.
    “Can I go campin’ overnight with the guys?” was the question that brought silence to the table.
    Mom looked at Dad. Dad looked at Mom. Neither of them looked at me. “You said I could if I went to Granddaddy Jaybird’s for a week,” I reminded them.
    Dad cleared his throat and swirled his fork in his mashed potatoes. “Well,” he said, “I don’t see why not. Sure. You guys can pitch a tent in the back and make a campfire.”
    “That’s not what I mean. I mean campin’ out. Like out in the woods.”
    “There are woods behind the house,” he said. “That’s woods enough.”
    “No sir,” I said, and my heart was beating harder because for me this was really being daring. “I mean way out in the woods. Out where you can’t see Zephyr or any lights. Like real campin’.”
    “Oh, my,” Mom fretted.
    Dad grunted and put his fork down. He folded his fingers together, and the thought lines deepened into grooves between his eyes. All this was, I knew from past experience, the first signs of the word “no” being born. “Way out in the woods,” he repeated. “Like how far out?”
    “I don’t know. I thought we could hike somewhere, spend the night, and then come back in the mornin’. We’d take a compass, and sandwiches, and Kool-Aid, and we’d take knapsacks and stuff.”
    “And what would happen if one of you boys broke an ankle?” Mom asked. “Or got bitten by a rattlesnake? Or fell down in poison ivy, and Lord knows that’s everywhere this summer.” I hung on; she was working up to full speed. “What would happen if you got attacked by a bobcat? Lord, a hundred things could happen to you in the woods, and none of them good!”
    “We’d be all right, Mom,” I said. “We’re not little kids anymore.”
    “You’re not grown up enough to go wanderin’ around out in the woods by yourselves, either! What if you got out there at night two miles from home and a storm blew up? What if it started lightnin’ and thunderin’? What if you or one of the others got sick to your stomach? You know, you can’t just find a phone and call home out there. Tell him it’s a bad idea, Tom.”
    He made a face; the dirty jobs always fell to the father.
    “Go on,” Mom urged. “Tell him he can wait until he’s thirteen.”
    “You said last year I could wait until I was twelve,” I reminded her.
    “Don’t talk smart, now! Tom, tell him.”
    I awaited the firm, resolute “no.” It came as a real surprise, then, when my dad asked, “Where would you get the compass?”
    Mom looked at him in horror. I felt a spark of hope leap within me. “From Davy Ray’s dad,” I said. “He uses it when he goes huntin’.”
    “Compasses can break!” Mom insisted. “Can’t they?” she asked Dad.
    My father kept his attention on me, his expression solid and serious. “Goin’ out on an overnight hike isn’t any game for children. I know plenty of men who’ve gotten lost in the woods, and they’ll tell you right off what it feels like to be without a bed or a bathroom, have to sleep on wet leaves and scratch skeeter bites all night. That sound like fun to you?”
    “I’d like to go,” I said.
    “You talk to the other guys about this?”
    “Yes sir. They all said they’d like to go, too, if their folks’ll let ’em.”
    “Tom, he’s too young!” Mom said. “Maybe next year!”
    “No,” my father answered, “he’s not too young.” My mother wore a stricken look; she started to speak again, but Dad put a finger to her lips. “I made a deal with him,” he told her. “In this house, a man stands on his word.” His gaze swung back to me again. “Call ’em. If their parents say all right, it’s all right with us, too. But we’ll talk about how far you can go, and when we expect you back, and if you’re not back by the time we agree on, you’ll have a tough time sittin’ down for a week. Okay?”
    “Okay!” I said, and I started to go for the phone but Dad said, “Hold on. Finish your supper first.”
    After this, events gained momentum. Ben’s parents gave their approval. Davy Ray’s folks said okay. Johnny, however, could not go with us, though he pleaded for my dad to talk to his. Dad did what he could, but the judgment was already passed. Because of Johnny’s dizzy spells, his parents were afraid for him to be out in the woods overnight. Once again the Branlins had