After that dream, Jean seemed all the more special to me, yet scarier. I always wondered if I was doing the right thing by walking her home. The element of frustration was I felt that we should have been closer, yet I was very happy to walk home with her.

There was a new development in my life, in May I entered into Boy Scouts. It was Troop 112 and Tim, my older friend from down my street, was in the troop. I joined up with his patrol and was busy getting the things I needed for summer camp ready.

This day had to finally arrive and even before I made it into school, I was already heartbroken. It was the last day of school, and I knew: I wouldn't be walking home with Jean after today. Everyone else was happy, but I was sad and it didn't help matters that Jean was giving me glimpses.

Most of the day was having our autograph books signed, and I went around the class. When I made it to Jean and asked her to sign mine, she looked at me and went, "Hmmm ..." And put the book down.

I said, "Come on Jean. Please." She smiled and picked it up and wrote, "It was nice having you in my class."

On the next line, she wrote, "Your friend, Jean."

She then handed hers to me, and I wrote exactly what she had written: "It was nice having you in my class." I stopped and looked at her until she got impatient and then wrote, "Your friend, Mike." At this, she made these subtle mouse-like noises that touched my heart. I looked at her and said, "Jean... I really mean it! I really mean it!" Jean started to look around and I knew that was my cue to leave her desk.


When the last bell rang, both Jean and I got into our positions for the walk home. We walked very slowly, and after each few steps, we looked at the other. I was made very sad by this and there were times that we wouldn't look at one another. For me, it was because I was crying. There was no let up to the heaviness of this.

We finally made it to the turn off point and I said, "Jean; is it ok for me to walk up to you?" She nodded and I started to walk up to her and she stopped me at four feet. Damn it! I wanted two.

"Jean, I wanted to thank you for being in the class and letting me walk you home, it made the year very special for me and hopefully we can be together next year as well." She made a choking sound when I said, "I would like to get together over the summer if that is possible, but if there's anything you need, you can always come to my house and let me know."

Jean choked up a bit and said I made her class special too and that she will miss me also. We said our goodbyes and started walking away from each other. I felt that I didn't do it justice and muttered to myself, "God, I didn't do a good job at telling Jean how I feel, please give me some words."

I turned around and got Jean's attention and told her in a loud voice, "Jean; one day when we are much older, there will be a right time to be together and make love. When that time comes, I want it to be with you."

She immediately turned and started walking away. Then about fifteen feet away, she suddenly turned around and yelled, "Mike! Me too!" and busted out crying, producing streams of tears down her eyes. I was overwhelmed at this, since I didn't expect it.

Halfway through the rest of the walk home, I felt like a total idiot. What moron would tell a girl he loves, he wants to see her, but doesn't give her an address or phone number?

That summer like the summer before was wrapped in prayer, thanking God for Jean and also praying that she would be in my seventh grade class. Yet, being an active summer with scouts and being with friends, it was somewhat muted and less fervent.


Summer camp was a big deal, and I learned many valuable lessons. I was a good swimmer classified, as advanced by the Red Cross and figured, I would ace the swimming test. I made it three quarters of the way through and said, "Help!" and went under. It took most of the week before I would pass it.

I did find an unconventional friend, an Assistant Scoutmaster named Dave Berry. I was upset and tried to figure out why I didn't pass it. Dave spent some time with me and came to the conclusion, it was the currents that did me in and I simply needed to gain the strength to swim upstream. Our swimming hole was a very picturesque portion of Sidling Hill Creek.

My most stark memory was sitting out watching the scouts working on the Life Saving merit badge. They had to rescue Dave. Oh, he was about six feet and two hundred pounds of solid muscle. They had to rescue him, and one by one, I watched him drown my friends. He put them under the water and wouldn't let go until he saw air bubbles and made sure that they swallowed water. He ended up rescuing them and putting each on the beach. All of my friends were shaken.

Then it was Kendal's turn, everybody figured that since he is a competing swimmer, he would ace it and rescue Dave. Just as with the other boys, Dave grabbed hold of him and put him under. Suddenly Dave's laughing turned into a bear like scream and he went under. Kendal did bring Dave, the mountain man to shore, he was still holding his crotch.

Dave said, "Maybe I am wrong in doing this, but I wanted everyone to know what it is like to drown. If you notice, each summer there are, plenty of double drowning in the news. This is because a person half you size will have enough adrenaline in him to have my strength. If you don't control the situation from the start, they will drown you."

"Kendal? Why did you plaster my balls?" We couldn't believe that despite being the swimmer that Kendal was, he was terrified of drowning and did what he could think of to avoid it. "Believe it or not, Kendal did the right thing and is the only one, now signed off for the merit badge."

To me and most of the other scouts, Dave was ultra cool. He was also guide, taught survival school and if he thought you were special, he spent time with you, in a way that you always retained the knowledge. I still remember the tricks he taught me about finding wood for fires. If it can't be found on trees, like at most State Parks, look up into the scrub canopy. That is where it not only collects from fallen trees, but is also preserved and dry.

While the boys liked Dave, many of the other adults didn't care for him. Especially when we held a campfire at our water hole and he came running in with a Banshee scream, jumping over everyone's head and fired his black powder rifle which was loaded with a hot blank charge. He told us a story about Big Foot that even had our mom's scared. The other thing that made him cool was he invited the older boys and their parents on his adventurous camping trips and also brought women along. It was sort of a perceived coming of age ceremony.

I was one never to be homesick, but found I would succumb to it. It was a rough and tumble troop with the older boys picking on you. We didn't mind it, as it was good natured, which meant they liked you. However, it spilled into my patrol and the patrol leader. Tim took to it also, and it wasn't so good natured. About halfway through the week, it got to be too much, and I asked to go home.

The scoutmaster made sure that this was fixed; the senior patrol said they would watch the patrol to make sure it won't happen, because they are the only ones that can beat me up. They proceeded to mockingly beat me up.

I also learned about volunteering for scout chores. I was the first to offer getting water, which turned out to be a half a day affair with the filled water jugs weighing forty pounds and had to be carried back from camp a mile away.


Throughout the summer, I did have both Greg and David from the class over and we stayed over each other's house a couple of times. Then I couldn't find the picture of Jean with her mom and sister. Several times a day, I took to rummaging through the house looking for it. It baffled me how it could disappear as I took so much care of it.

After a couple of weeks of this, the amusement wore off on my mother and she asked me what I am looking for and I said, "The picture of Jean, her sister and mother." Mom wasn't very happy appearing.

"Mike, I'll look for it, but I am afraid that one of your friends stole it." I asked her how she came to that conclusion and she replied, "Mike, I don't think you keep track of your allowance money. Most of that has been missing and you haven't been going anywhere to spend it."

I asked Dad if he had been in the room, and he replied, "I don't go into your room, because it pisses me off so much. While I don't think it is a good idea for you to have such a photograph at your age, I didn't take it. This is a good lesson for you about friends. If you have one person that you can call a friend, then you have done well in life. Most people that act as a friend, doesn't turn out that well in the end."

Mom told me to give her the negative, and she will have another print made. When we looked for it, we discovered that the negative strip was missing as well. I would spend one more time with each and privately questioned both. We were walking at Parkville Middle School, when Dave told me, "I don't know why you would want to do anything with Jean."

He then pointed to another girl's house, who was from our sixth grade class and said, "She'll at least, let you put your arm around her and maybe give you a kiss if she is in the mood."

I spent more time with Greg, and we fired off rockets and I enjoyed his mom taking us to Beaver Damn, which was a swim club located in an abandoned quarry. But then the waning trust told me to stick with the new friends that I made in scouts. Though older, they were nicer and didn't seem to mind me being around.