"Why don't the boys have to cook?" asked Darla Jean.

Mrs. Jim Bob chewed on this for a moment. "Because a woman's place is in the kitchen, but if you'd prefer to hose down the garbage cans, it can be arranged."

"I'm sure she would," I said, winning Darla Jean's dedicated animosity for the next seven days, and possibly until she moved away from Maggody to get a job eviscerating chickens in Starley City.

"Well, then," said Mrs. Jim Bob, "I shall expect all of you at the lodge shortly. We need to unload supplies. Brother Verber will be in charge."

Heather snickered. "You and Brother Verber are staying there by yourselves, right? Arly's going to keep track of us, and Mr. Lambertino will be watching the boys, but what's to stop you and Brother Verber from…?"

Mrs. Jim Bob's lips tightened. "From what, Heather? Feel free to finish your sentence."

"It's just that everybody knows, or they think they do, that you and he…"

"Go on," she said coldly.

"Well, ever since you all were caught up at the cave by Raz's still, you know, the both of you wearing lacy lingerie-"

"There is an explanation, Heather. Perhaps you would care to come to the lodge and scrub the kitchen floor on your hands and knees while I share it with you?"

Heather did what I would have done, which was to start mumbling like crazy as she backed into the bathroom at the far end of the cabin. Mrs. Jim Bob shot her a final beady look, then reminded us that we were due at the lodge in ten minutes and drove away in the blue bus.

I clapped my hands until I had their attention. "Okay, ladies, you agreed to this. No one was hogtied and tossed onto the bus. You will have the chance to sunbathe, roast marshmallows, and sing camp songs, but you will not-and I repeat, will not-go wandering down the road to meet with someone of the opposite sex. One week consists of a mere seven days. We'll get up at six-thirty and be in our bunks at ten o'clock. We will stay in our respective bunks for the rest of the night. Questions?"

"Did you notice that Mr. Lambertino has a dimple?" drawled a Dahlton twin.

"And a cute butt?" said the other.

Darla Jean fell back on a bunk. "Give me a break! Next thing you're gonna say is the dimple's on his butt."

It may have taken ten minutes for the giggles and increasingly ribald remarks to subside, but eventually I calmed them down and escorted them to the lodge. Mr. Dimpled Butt was supervising the boys as they carried boxes into the lodge, Brother Verber seemingly having excused himself.

The main room of the lodge was dominated by a stone fireplace and broad windows with a view of the lake. Had it been crowded with leather sofas and easy chairs, it might have been charming. A dozen or so corroded folding chairs failed to provide the ambiance. The dining room resembled a mess hall, appropriately enough, and the kitchen had been scoured into shape by the Unitarians or the Baptists.

"Are you planning to feed these kids any time soon?" I asked Mrs. Jim Bob, who was waving her arms and issuing orders as if she fancied herself to be the director of a movie set.

"Did you not hear what I said earlier? Lunch will be provided at noon."

"They might be getting hungry."

"Or they might be filled with the glory that comes with doing the Almighty's work. As soon as we're unloaded, Larry Joe will take half of them to the softball field to start work on the bleachers. The rest, under your supervision, will get busy on the dock. Their rewards will not come from self-indulgence, but in knowing they are humble servants of the Lord. I hope you'll share that, too, Arly. I shudder every time I envision you in Satan's claws for all eternity. Look at this as your opportunity to-"

"That wasn't part of the deal," I interrupted. "I approve of what the kids have volunteered to do, and applaud them. On the other hand, I did not agree to be bombarded with pieties for a week. Don't think for a second that I can't walk back to the highway and hitch a ride home. Try for a lower bunk near the bathroom and keep an eye out for bats. The rafters may be a prime habitat for the Almighty's nocturnal rodents."

"Your attitude does not surprise me."

"What's more," I said, really heating up, "I am not going to head a work crew. My idea of a tool is a nail file. Larry Joe's in charge."

We were eyeballing each other when Brother Verber appeared, his demeanor a bit wobbly, his grin suspiciously genial. "The Unitarians did a right dandy job cleaning up the lodge," he announced. "The bedrooms upstairs ain't as nice as motel rooms, but they're clean. There's toilet paper in the bathrooms, jars with dried flowers, and crayon drawings taped on some of the walls. It made me think of when Jesus said, 'Let those li'l children come unto me.'" He pulled out a handkerchief and blew his nose. "It wrenched my heart, just imagining them with their disfigured limbs and withered lungs. I reckon a lot of them was orphans, locked away all year except for the one week they were allowed to frolic in the sunshine and-"

"What an appropriate topic for your evening homily," said Mrs. Jim Bob, grabbing Jarvis as he attempted to sidle behind her with a package of cookies half-hidden under his shirt. "I'm sure this young man would be honored to participate with a personal interpretation of one of the Ten Commandments." She tightened her grip on his wrist. "You may go to your cabin and contemplate the meaning of 'Thou shalt not steal.' If this concept confuses you, we can discuss it further."

"It's been a long while since breakfast," he said sullenly.

"There is no justification for breaking a commandment," she countered. "I do believe you need to spend the remainder of the day reading your Bible and praying for forgiveness. Should you and the Lord reach an accord, you may come to supper."

Although he was bulky enough to be drafted by an NFL team, he hung his head. "Yes, ma'am."

I felt the need to intervene. "That's unreasonable, Mrs. Jim Bob, and what's more, we need his help with the bleachers. Why don't you allow him to apologize and let it go?"

Brother Verber fell to his knees and clasped his hands together. "Lord, I sense we have a sinner about to repent his wicked ways and come back into the fold. Listen to the words of this prodigal son, then throw open Your arms and absolve him. It's gonna happen, Lord, and then we can all exalt in Thy mercy. Say it, boy! Let it ring out so that every squirrel and songbird can hear it!"

Jarvis handed Mrs. Jim Bob the package of cookies, then took a deep breath and said, "I'm real sorry and I'll never steal anything again as long as I live."

"Hallelujah!" boomed Brother Verber. "Let us all kneel and give thanks for this miracle on our very first day at Camp Pearly Gates!"

Mrs. Jim Bob remained standing. "Or at least an admission of guilt. All right, Jarvis, you may help with the bleachers this morning and have lunch with the others. I do hope we won't have any other problems with you this week. Your parents will not be pleased if I have to call them to fetch you. I understand your father's been laid off and your mother's cancer has come back. It would only add to their troubles if they found out you were nothing but a common thief and they had to drive all this way. You wouldn't want that, would you?"

"No ma'am."

"And that is exactly what I'll do if I catch any of you behaving in an ungodly fashion," she added to the kids hovering nearby. "You are here on a mission, not to paint your toenails and put ribbons in your hair."

Brother Verber staggered to his feet and clung to the back of a folding chair as if it were his pulpit. "'Vanity of vanities; all is vanity. What profit hath a man of all his labor which he taketh under the sun? One generation passeth away, and another generation cometh, but the earth abideth for ever.'"