This story is fictitious, and any similarity within its six chapters to other persons living or dead is incidental. 

One exceptionally fine spring day in 1952, two adventurous cousins, Ezekiel (Zeke) and Zachary (Zach) Dodge, ages 14 and 13, respectively, were contemplating a decision. They were being raised near a Missouri village on one of the many arms of the Lake of the Ozarks, and on this particular day the boys jointly decided to start their summer vacation a day early; that is, the pair’s final adventure of the school year would end by skipping the last day of school.

Had they been asked what they were going to do with that time, the answer would have been accompanied by big smiles and a disclaimer: “That isn’t the point. We simply aren’t going to school today!” The reality was that they would ride their bicycles to a nearby nine-hole golf course in order to play two rounds.

When they got home later that day, they confessed that they had “honored” the school’s “traditional skip day” (even though it was intended for seniors). Zeke’s father, Smiggs (nick-named by his father for a comic strip character), gave an amused look at his younger brother, Seef, (so named because whenever the eight children in his own family chose sides for a game of some kind, he always wanted to be on his two-year older brother’s side. And when he wasn’t chosen by Smiggs, he would say, “See if I can”).

“Boys,” Zeke’s father commented, “If the rest of your summer adventures are also going to require confessions after the fact, we are hopefully expecting you to be equally straight-forward.”

Three years earlier the boys’ fathers had together bought a modest fishing resort with the name of Little Dunes. The two families each lived in one of the two end units of a row of ten lake front cabins. Thus, the fathers, Smiggs and Seef, were not only brothers, but business partners. Recreationally, both of the fathers liked to fish, play golf, and pitch horseshoes. All of when they weren’t otherwise occupied with running the small family fishing resort. Fortunately, the boys’ mothers, plus several older siblings in each family, did a good share of the work of the little resort’s bookkeeping, property and habitat maintenance for the eight two-and-three bedroom rental cabins.

The rental business, however, was only good for six months of the year. Much of the other half of each year for the fathers was devoted to independently travelling the state of Missouri and much of Iowa in selling advertising calendars and farm-related promotional items such as feed scoops and rain gauges.

The two boys of this story, however, were much more interested in adventures than family history, and this is about them and some of their experiences. It is informative that their innate fondness for adventure was further piqued by their English teacher. In spite of the one-year difference in ages, the two boys were in the same school grade. This was due to the older boy’s sorry adventure seven years earlier when Zeke took Zach’s innocent dare to jump over a lawn leaf fire as they were playing cowboys and Indians.

Predictably, the broad-jump effort in a pair of cotton blue jeans came up short, the result being several months of hospitalization for Zeke’s third-degree burns over much of his lower right leg. Full recovery was accomplished, but at the expense of the boy’s first attempt at third-grade.

Back in real time and to the English’s teacher’s quote by no less a scientific icon than Albert Einstein: “The acquisition of knowledge is less important than imagination!” The two boys’ not only considered that statement profound, but a synonym for adventure.

Thus, on this self-appointed first day of the year’s summer adventures, the boys had found themselves at the Little Dunes Golf Course. Neither of them owned golf clubs, but the rented ones served their purpose. And because they occasionally did fairway tractor-mowing work for the quirky proprietor, the nominal fees for club rental and play were waived. The course’s flat, nine-hole layout had two distinctive features: One was an infrequently used small-plane dirt runway down the middle of the course. The second, even more remarkable feature was the course’s greens, i.e., they weren’t grass at all, but sand.

How had that come to be? One of the fathers explained the situation: “About five years ago, Dr. Wallace Wheeler, the golf course’s owner and retired geology professor and former part-time college golf coach at the state university, bought the sandy-bottomed acreage on a shoe-string. We don’t know what he had in mind at the time, but then, sadly, after losing his wife to a long illness, he decided to build something that both the locals and tourists might find interesting for their families—a low-maintenance nine-hole golf course which featured sand greens.”

The boys had naturally wanted a broader explanation as to the incongruity of the two words, sand greens. In fact, they both laughed at the phrase. Again, one of the fathers explained: “Other than the much less cost of sand relative to grass seed, fertilizer and greens mowers, there was the undeniable matter of sand being a plentiful local mineral resource.”

Or, as more properly stated by Professor Wheeler: “In fact, this golf course’s built-in sandy acres are the result of a once-upon-a-time meandering, floodplain stream cut-off.”

After the boys’ first round of play a year ago with their fathers, the mechanically-interested Zach’s comment was this: “Aside from the challenge of the game, this is what I like: When a ball is hit onto a sand ‘green,’ a two-foot wide, heavy iron roller is pulled by each player on a straight line in flattening the sand between where the player’s golf ball lies and the hole. The ball is then replaced and the putt taken.” And that exactly describes how things worked on this little par-35 golf course.

As to how the boy’s golf game fared on “skip day,” they each managed to score in the high forties for each of their two nine-hole rounds. They were happy with that, compared to their first ever round a year earlier when the first nine-hole scores for each of them were in the mid-fifties.

Chapter Two: Going Forward with the Boys’ Adventures

Although the boys were temporarily relieved of the burden of school classes, their church did not celebrate the public school’s summer vacation. Their evangelical church’s boys’ middle school class was about to take a two-day camping trip to one of the many small islands on their arm of the lake. The two Dodge boys’ fathers were the leaders of the class’s eight boys in their charge. The primary church lesson would be a focus on the baptism of Jesus.

Once the camp was set up, Smiggs and Seef took turns in dealing with the introduction of John the Baptist’s time of baptizing on the east side of the Jordan River. Seef was animatedly speaking as he said, “Suddenly, John the Baptist looked up and saw Jesus coming toward Him. He then cried out, ‘Behold, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world!’” With that, Seef turned to Smiggs and said, “Tell us what was happening at that point.”

The elder of the two brothers responded in saying, “God had revealed to the Baptist that the Messiah was coming and that when He came, the Spirit would descend upon Him and remain.” To that, he added, “Here is the bottom line for you young men of the Church: We believers are indwelt by God’s Spirit the moment we are saved, but to be filled with the Spirit we must study the Word, spend time in meditation and prayer, and live in obedience to the LORD. Contrary to what some believe, God is not interested in our being happy, but in being obedient. Out of obedience you will find happiness.”

If the two young cousins had picked up on anything of the trip’s lessons relative to their thirst for almighty adventure, it wasn’t yet apparent. At the end of the two-day trip, Zeke said to the fathers/leaders, “Zach and I want to stay here another day on our own. If you leave one of the tents and some of the food and cooking gear for us, we’ll bring everything back tomorrow on one of the two motor boats.” After some discussion the fathers decided this would be okay. After all, the two boys were not only familiar with the lake and the area, but also with the outdoor experience.

What the boys shared with each other only a few hours later, however, spoke to their greater interest in adventure: The younger of the two said, “You know, I don’t really understand the ‘obedience’ thing. I mean, I get not cursing, stealing or killing, but …” he trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.

Zeke, too, had been thinking about the lesson, but with an even different perspective. He responded with, “I know, Zach, but I really think those things are meant more for adults than for kids.” So, sadly, the two had obviously not yet gained an understanding that obedience had to do with being faithful in their walk with the LORD, imitating Christ, and serving others.

Further, Zeke said, “I have an idea: Why don’t we pack up all the gear and then motor over to our little personal island across the way, where we still have our little hut and hammocks. We might even catch a few fish for supper, instead of these wieners and beans. One of our fishing renters told me the other day that the crappie are biting.”

To that, Zach’s eyes lit up as he said, “Yeah! I was thinking the same thing. There should be a couple of poles and a hand net in the hut. I bet we might even be able to catch a few minnows-for-bait in the stream’s shallows.” They arrived without a hitch. But as they were beaching their boat after having shut down the little 25-horsepower outboard motor, they could see that there were two men standing around the campsite, which the boys considered theirs. “What do we do?” said an obviously concerned Zach.

Zeke’s frown betrayed his own concerns, but he brushed them off, saying, “What has our English teacher told us about imagination? We are to use it! Don’t be afraid; Just go along with me on this.”

With that, they walked up to the two adult men, and Zeke said, “Hi, there! My cousin and I are camped with our father—the game warden—on the sister island you can see from here. He sent us over to pick up the two hammocks we keep over here for family use. Are you men here to fish?”

The two men were surprised to see anyone since their arrival the previous night, much less these two young boys. One of them disinterestedly replied, “Nah! We’re just poking around. Why don’t you get what you came for and beat it?” It wasn’t really a question.

Zach didn’t know what to say or do, but he noticed their fancy boat with the much larger outboard motor and water skis. “Are you skiers?” he asked. “You need to get out a ways from these two islands for a clearer stretch of water.”

The other of the two men glowered and made fun of the boy. “Thanks for the advice, ‘warden,’ but we may just hang around here and catch something for supper.” To that he added dismissively, “Do you want to see our fishing licenses?”

With that, Zeke gave Zach’s arm a tug and said, “We’ll be going now. Have a good day.”

The two boys turned to go, but the seeming leader of the two strangers said, “What about the hammocks you said you came to get? Change your mind, warden’s son?”

“No,” Zeke said, “we’ll get them another time.”

That brought a second retort from the other of the two heavily-tattooed men in their forties: “Yeah, sure. Suppose you two puppies paddle back to your mommies and get some fresh milk.”

Back on the island from which the two boys had earlier departed, Zeke admitted to Zach, “Well, that didn’t go very well. I don’t know what those two rummies were up to, but I saw an empty bottle of liquor on the ground.

They spent an uneasy night in their tent. The next morning, after noticing that the intruders had left the other island, they were glad to return home. They did claim to have double- checked on the hammocks on the close-by island, and that a couple of fishermen had apparently visited the island but hadn’t disturbed anything before leaving. End of report.

Chapter Three: Farm Visit

During the previous winter the two families had been invited to visit the fathers’ uncle’s farm just outside the nearby town’s city limits. The couple had recently retired and begun renting out their pasture land to a neighbor for grazing cattle. All three families had a great time at the backyard BBQ and the visit which followed. Their son was a divorced, former WWII Marine Corps veteran, but also quite a community figure for certain eccentricities. He now lived on the farm with his parents.

The two adventure-driven boys took an immediate a shine to their older generation cousin and asked if they might visit again. Cousin Steve invited them to come back in the spring when he would further show them around the acreage and also how to milk a cow.

When mid-June rolled around, the cousin picked up Zeke and Zach for an overnight stay and proceeded to show them his otherwise well-appointed two-room “suite” in the barn. “Cousin Steve,” Zeke gushed, “how lucky you are to be able live like this!”

Right outside the barn-room’s door was a stall for the family milk cow. Steve said, “You guys are the lucky ones, because you don’t have to “sing for your supper.” But you will have to milk Rosy.” With that, he ushered the boys outside and pointed Zach to a stool and a bucket, saying, “It’s your turn to tap the faucet.”

After some fun practice with spilled-milk, they both managed to get the hang of hitting the bucket with milk from Rosy’s teats. After that, Steve said, “Now do you want to see my military Jeep and maybe go for a ride with my new girl-friend?”

“What?” Zeke said, surprised.

Zach’s mind was on the Jeep. “Yeah, let’s go for a ride.”

Steve knew he had a couple of interested boys to entertain, so first he decided to sit them down for a little talk. “Well, boys, you see, I wasn’t blessed to have a wonderful marriage like your fathers and mothers have.” He decided to test them. “Are you boys obedient to your parents?”

They both simultaneously answered in the positive, but as Steve observed, it was a little too quickly. “Anyway,” the elder cousin continued, “after a few years, my former wife and I didn’t get along well. I know it was mostly my fault, but sadly, we divorced. That is, our marriage broke up, and we split up. You’ve met her several times, I think, and you know she’s a wonderful lady.”

Zeke bowed his head slightly and said, “Yes, sir, we have, and we like her very much. But what’s with your new girl-friend?”

“Yeah,” Zach softly echoed, then added, “but what about the Jeep?”

“Follow me!” their cousin said as he led them around and behind the barn. To the boys’ delight, there sat potential adventure! And sitting on the front passenger’s side was seated a strange-looking female manikin. She had long, blond curls topped with a witch’s cone-shaped hat. “Meet Betsy!” Steve said as he laughed.

Zeke laughed even louder and said, “What kind of girl-friend is this?”

“Well, for one thing,” Steve said with a sly smile, “she doesn’t argue with me. In fact, I often take her to town with me. She usually rides in the front passenger seat of my pick-up truck. People shout, hoot and honk whenever they see her.” With that, he laughed again.

It was close to the supper hour. After having eaten, and with some conversational time together with the older aunt and uncle, the boys were shown to their bed room for the night. Cousin Steve said, “Tomorrow morning I’ll drive you around the farm and show you the cattle.”

Sure enough, early the next morning, no sooner had they finished a big farm breakfast but what Cousin Steve drove them out and around most of the pasture lands, including once having to thread their way in the vehicle through about twenty Black Angus cows which had gathered together along the trail.

After that, he gave each of them a lesson behind the wheel of the Jeep. It was quite different than the golf course tractor which the boys had driven a number of times. Zach was ecstatic with the opportunity, although he found the gear box different than that of the tractor. “I want to drive this cool machine again!” he said plaintively.

Zeke, too, was up for that, and after a moment’s thought, Cousin Steve said, “I’ll tell you what, boys: This afternoon, Betsy and I have to take the pick-up into town for some groceries for mother. While I’m gone, you guys can take the Jeep out on the pastures. Enjoy it, take your time, and be careful, but above all, do not drive anywhere except where I took you this morning.”

That afternoon the two student-drivers each took several slow, looping turns around the pastures, although they still hadn’t fully mastered the WWII Jeep’s manual drive clutch. That meant, of course, that they were still experiencing a few stuttered starts. Zeke was driving at the time when they came to a gated pasture which didn’t look familiar. Characteristically ignoring instructions to the contrary, he justified it by saying, “Let’s drive through and just a short way up the hill, and then turn around to come back.”

Zach unlatched the gate and the first part of the plan was accomplished. But then after cresting the hill, he said to the driver, “Oh, look, Zeke, there’s a lone cow standing over there by a tree.” The animal raised his head at the sight of them and seemed to intently watch the vehicle and its passengers.

Zeke returned the animal’s apparent interest, but his senses failed to alert him. A moment later, however, he said, “Zach, I think that’s a bull! Let me turn this thing around and get the heck out of here!”

As the older boy jerkily managed to turn the Jeep, the bull pawed the ground and began its charge. The near-panic stricken boy pressed the accelerator to the floor and picked up speed. In attempting to steer straight down off the modest hill, however, he was going too fast to stop before running into the closed gate. It was at the same time that the bull arrived upon the scene.

Fortunately, the boys managed to scramble out of the Jeep and onto the other side of the fence without being gored. They should certainly have been upset with the situation, but instead nervously laughed at the excitement of it all. Zeke turned to Zach and tried a little humor, saying, “I guess we ‘zigged’ when we should have ‘zagged.’”

Embarrassed, the pair walked back to the house. At nearly the same moment, Cousin Steve was driving up the long driveway from the main road. The aunt and uncle apparently heard the pick-up’s loud engine and had come out to greet him. We don’t need to go into all the details of the next few minutes, but suffice it to say that things were calmer there than when the two later arrived back at the homestead. Cousin Steve tried to take the blame, but everyone knew that the two adventurers had willfully struck once again, but this time they would have to pay a bigger price for their reckless decision.

That price would be set after each boy had been talked to by his father. Once it was established that both boys had totally disregarded their cousin’s admonition not to enter any pasture they had not traversed the day before, Smiggs and Seef shared with their sons that for the next month the only time the two boys would be spending together would be working, either on the families’ fishing property or mowing grass on the golf course.

The boys were spared any personal expense for minor repairs to both the vehicle and the fence, but now they had used up two ‘outs” of their summer’s turn at bat. The third was just around the corner.

Chapter Four: Spelunking

Nearly four weeks later, after their daily extra-chores penance had been duly served except for a very few remaining days, Zach came breathlessly running into the house with a post card held in one hand. To Zeke he confidentially said, “Horse Cave is being re-opened in another week with the announcement of a newly-discovered passage, although the passage is just being developed. Let’s see if can get our dads to take the two of us, if not everyone. It says right here on this post card that just came in the mail: ‘Come to Horse Cave for a New Experience!’ That’s us! And after all, you and I will be off of the ‘chain gang’ by then.”

“Ah, Zach,” Zeke rebuffed his cousin, “have you forgotten that my mom hates caves? Don’t you remember I told you about our family visit to Mammoth Cave in Kentucky two years ago? While the rest of us toured the cave, she stayed in the gift shop and knitted a sweater for one of the girls. She hasn’t yet forgiven dad for dragging us a thousand miles round-trip to see the country’s biggest cave. She’s not about to go along with a visit to a local cave. This idea is D.O.A.”

Zach was not dissuaded. “Heck, it’s only a short run across the lake. By then we can go by ourselves.”

“I doubt it,” Zeke said as he shook his head. “On account of our run-in with Cousin Steve’s Jeep and that doggoned bull, our dads aren’t cutting us any adventure slack, even if we will be off of the work farm by then.” A second later, however, another thought forced its way into his head. “But I have an idea. Listen! You and I are scheduled next Monday for our first job- release together to motor to the marina in bringing back enough gas for five of our boats to cover the needs of the new renters coming in that week.”

At that, Zach perked up. “What do you have in mind?”

“If we leave early, we can get the gas run finished in time to make a little side trip to the cave. We can still get back home in a timely fashion. Our restriction from working together will have been finished by then anyway.”

Zach was looking for confirmation. “Do you think we should first get an okay?”

“Well,” Zeke began his selling argument, “if it’s only fifty-fifty that our dads will grant us a pass, how excited are you about seeing the cave? We haven’t seen it since we first moved here five years ago, and you were still in short pants at the time! Besides, ‘Zach-the-Spelunker,’ we might even be able to get a peek at part of that new passage.”

It was a long week for the two boys in planning their upcoming adventure. They didn’t give the deceptive second half of the plan so much as a second thought, thinking only of the excitement.

“Sorry, young man,” said the cave’s ticket agent to the young boy at the window. “Where are your parents? We don’t allow unaccompanied children.”

Zeke had suspected that might be the case, and for that reason he had hung back when Zach went to the ticket counter. “Don’t worry,” he told his younger cousin. “I know how we can get around this.” He had already spotted a car in the parking lot, unloading a family. “Come with me,” he said.

They approached the father, and Zeke said, with a broad smile, “Hi, folks. I wonder if you could help my cousin and me. Yesterday, our two fathers’ purchased some cave tour tickets for the rest of our families. That was for today, but now we need two more tickets. They’ll be bringing our boat over with the rest of our families in another fifteen minutes or so. My dad sent us on over in our other boat to get two more tickets for the group because he knew there will be a crowd for the next tour.”

The visiting-cave family’s father nodded his head and said, “Sounds like a great day for everyone, but what’s the problem?”

Zeke explained: “We tried to buy the extra tickets but they wouldn’t sell them to unaccompanied children. He then moved to close the deal by handing the father the exact change for the tickets. “Would you be kind enough to purchase two extra tickets for us? In the meantime we’ll keep an eye open for our family and as soon as they arrive we’ll dash up the hill to collect our tickets from you.”

The father was surprised by the request and hesitantly looked around. His wife, however, said, “Of course, young man. We’ll be glad to.”

Some minutes later, and with tickets in hand from the helpful parents, the boys waited until the reluctant host family’s father disappeared just inside the entrance. They then proceeded to enter only a minute or so after the family, saying to the attendant as Zeke handed him the two tickets, “Sorry, sir, we’re with the rest of our family who just came through.”

Still needing to hang back from the slightly concerned parents so that they wouldn’t wonder about the curious lot of the two young boys’ own family, they stayed just away from the sound of that group’s movement with the tour guide. As they wandered along the interesting path, Zeke pointed out some things to Zach, the result of his having shared with Professor Wheeler their sometime-soon intention to visit the cave. The thing he most remembered from that conversation was not to be gullible about what was called “silly references to mineral formations such as a ‘frog sitting on a horse.’”

Zeke was a quick study and he further shared with Zach that the professor had then given him an interesting tip about mineral formations. “Get this: He said that minerals from water dripping down from the cave’s ceiling forms something called stalactites. And mineral formations growing up from the floor of the cave through dripping water are called stalagmites. Do you get the built-in clues? Formations hanging down are ‘tight,’ while formations growing up are ‘mighty.’”

Zach got it, but he was more interested in simply looking around at the wonder of it all. This was only the second time he had been in this cave and as Zeke had already noted, they were both a number of years younger for that visit.

After about another thirty minutes or so of awe at the cave’s amazing formations, and halfway through the tour, Zeke said, “Hey, look at this! Here’s the sign you were hoping to see. But it reads, “Danger! Passage under Construction! Do not enter!”

“Aw,” a disappointed Zach said, before adding, “but the cave floor doesn’t look any rougher or wetter than what we’ve been walking on.”

Zeke nodded and said, “What the heck, let’s just follow it a little ways and see what’s different.”

They did, but after about fifty feet of several turns along a more sparsely-lit walkway and quite a bit of heavy equipment sitting to one side, Zeke, who was leading and had just peeked ahead at the next stretch of path, made a startling comment: “Wow! You won’t believe this, Zach! There’s a small underground lake just ahead, and sitting in it is what I call a personal invitation for us to visit. It’s a small two-person boat!”

“Oh, wow!” Zach exclaimed excitedly. “I see it, but it’s pretty dark in here. Hey, do I also see a couple of paddles in the boat?”

What followed was the eternal response to challenge for the impetuous: Zach accepted the invitation for both of them: “Let’s give it a try!”

A surprisingly cautious Zeke made a feeble attempt to wave themselves off, but he just as quickly bailed: “I don’t know, Zach, but okay, let’s get in and just push off for a short distance. Fortunately, I brought a flashlight.”

Only a few yards had been traversed before Zeke pointed his flashlight over one side of the boat and at the water, enthusiastically noting, “Hey, there are fish in this lake. And do you know something else? I’ll bet they’re blind!”

Zach objected to such apparent knowledge by his peer, and said, “Why do you say that?”

“Think about it.” Zeke was eager to enlighten his younger cousin, and did so. “What would be the point to fish having vision in an absolutely dark environment?”

Before Zach could return serve, however, Zeke had cupped his ear in automatic response to a possibly more critical concern: “Wait a minute! Do you hear the faint sound of falling water?”

“Yes,” said Zach, his eyebrows suddenly raised. “You don’t suppose there’s a waterfall ahead, do you? I’m scared!”

“Nah! But let’s take a little closer look.”

They slowly paddled another ten yards or so along the edge of the little lake before the sound of falling water did became appreciatively louder, along with a discernible current, which Zeke did not think might be telling.

Zach, however, had had enough. “This is where I get off the boat! I can see the path alongside the water’s edge. Help me paddle to shore.” To that, he added a smart-aleck comment: “You go ahead. I’ll back you up . . . from way back here.”

Zeke, too, by now had also had enough, and was not prepared to go it alone. “Okay,” he said, “let’s reverse course!”

Back they trod, both of them also glad to have Zeke’s flashlight. Once they had re-traced their path back to where had they left the leading group, Zach said, “You know, if we’re lucky we might run into the next group behind us. We could join them!”

Zeke had been thinking about that very thing, and said, ominously, “I don’t think there’s a group behind us. I’ve never yet heard a sound coming from behind.”

A very few minutes later, the cavern lights double-blinked, along with the sound of a public address’s cheerful announcement: “Good afternoon folks. Our final tour group has just exited the main cavern. If you still happen to be in the underground cavern, which should not be the case, please exit at this time. Thank you for visiting us and come again. The gift shop will be open for another thirty minutes.”

When the two exited in another twenty minutes, not only was their tardy arrival without parents, not well received, but they were politely marched into the manager’s office. A phone call to one of the boys’ homes by the manager led to his being delighted to carefully repeat instructions for the boy-adventurers: “Zeke and Zach, you are to get into your boat and instantly come home. Your fathers’ will be waiting. By God’s grace, you may be spared a drubbing, but the words will surely sting!”

As the two boys were wending their way back to Little Dunes, Zach said, “What’s a ‘drubbing’?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Zeke affirmed. “We’ve already been told there would be no ‘drubbing.’’”

Zach wasn’t convinced. “Okay, that might apply to one of us, but what about the other? In any event, what’s the next lesser punishment?”

Zeke gave that some thought. “Well, from what I’ve read of Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn, it might be a ‘thumping.’”

That didn’t sound good either, so he persevered: “The worst I’ve ever gotten is a threat with the belt. What about you?”

“My dad doesn’t believe in mere threats. His lead-in to action has always been three words: ‘Assume the position!’ But I have to say that I’ve never taken a lick I didn’t deserve.”

As the pair rode the balance of the way back across their neck of the lake’s arm in contemplated silence, it also occurred to each of them that a mention of the side trip to the little lake would probably not be a good idea, even if they had earlier bargained to be straight forward about their adventures.

Even as the boys were boating home, the two fathers and mothers were discussing the situation. “You know, Seef,” Smiggs opined, “even if we should be able to correct some of their behavior with verbal or even physical punishment, that isn’t going to cure them.”

The younger father nodded and said, “I believe that’s a fair statement, brother, but what would be a good alternative, other than say, restriction of privilege?”

The older brother stroked his chin and said, “Well, why don’t we first consider the underlying cause for their repetitively-adventurist behavior?”

Seef reacted to a radical idea from his barely older brother in a typical fashion: “Have we suddenly become psychological analysts? My former military pay grade only got me what one stripe offered. Did you move any further up the line than that?”

“Okay,” Smiggs retorted, “but answer for me why you think these two active youngsters go from one less-than-well-thought-out adventure to another, regardless of consequences?”

“Here’s a guess: They obviously have something more than a simple want to do these sorts of things. Maybe it’s more of an ill-perceived need.”

“That’s even worse. That would mean that these two boys are intense about pursuing anything that piques their interest. I’m afraid we’re getting nowhere.”

At that, the wives jumped into the discussion: One of them said, “Hey, haven’t you guys forgotten something fundamental? We need to be praying about this!”

“Right you are!” Smiggs said. He took the lead: “Almighty and gracious Holy Spirit, we ask you to intervene with prayer to the Father about our desperate need to reach two of our boys about their reckless lack of self-control. Amen.”

Now the other wife took up the cause: “Look, all four of us love each of our children, but when it comes to Zeke and Zach and their un-redemptive escapades, we need a plan which would be helpful to them rather than merely painful, either physically or emotionally.”

That caused a pause among the four of them before Smiggs again responded. “Thanks, ladies. Seef, give us your thoughts.”

Having focused a little more on the problem, Seef was specific. “Suppose we get them to consider the downside of impetuousness and the lack of self-control.”

“Ah,” Smiggs said in jumping back into the fray, “I like that. How about holding a series of four weekly lessons—call them classes—not just for those two, but for all eight of our charges. Each parent could conduct one lesson, focusing on Seef’s point of self-control.”

The younger brother had more on the subject: “Okay, each offspring could come to class prepared to share one significant mistake he or she has made over the recent past, or further back if he or she would like, along with the positive lesson either learned—or could be learned—from the experience. The other children should also sit in; not to critically engage, but to offer encouragement.”

The wives glanced at each other before verbally reacting, almost in unison. “And we wives will be happy to kick off the program with an example of a biblical lesson before leading into the children’s participation, say involving two of our kids per session.” All four parents were totally in agreement with the plan.

Chapter Five: Home-bound

How did the next month go with the Dodge Family Plan? The most interesting thing about it was the surprisingly forthright participation by every child, not to mention the fact that the other three parents not only sat in for every session, but also kept low profiles as each parental lesson leader worked through the eight children’s ranks according to age. Again, each lesson was introduced by a parent’s biblical example before each of two youngsters took his or her turn.

The four biblical examples were 1) the faithful self-control of the widow at Zarapheth who, amidst a severe famine, encountered Elijah, who asked her for water and bread. Even though the widow had only enough flour and oil to make one last meal for herself and her son before they starved to death.

2) Lydia’s example in becoming one of the first converts in Phillipi by exercising self-control and a willingness to learn without letting preconceived notions control her; 3) and in the face of Joseph’s tests for his brothers who had recklessly persecuted him, the brothers faced their past misdeeds in demonstrating genuine remorse and self-control; 4) and lastly, King Nehemiah’s self-control in prioritizing the welfare of the people over personal gain.

Each of the children had previously professed their faith in Jesus Christ, followed by believer’s baptism, but now it was hoped by the parents that in particular, both of the two young adventurers would confess (if in their own way) to wanting to possess conscious faithfulness and agree to be more thoughtful and considerate when it comes to choices.

As the final session broke up with all parents and children of both families in attendance, two exceptional things also occurred: First, Zeke made an announcement: “As for the two former no self-control adventurers—but more so me, as the older—we here and now declare and promise that we are on the path to restraint and redemption.” With that, he turned to Zach and said, “That’s what I wrote down isn’t it, adventure-partner?”

That brought an Amen from Zach, followed by a chorus of family “Amens!”

The short, but surprising second announcement was by one of the two wives/mothers: “Listen up, everyone! One of our new rentals is a rare two-week booking for a large family of six from northwestern Iowa. The father and mother have an older girl, a ten-year old boy, and . . .” she paused for a moment before concluding . . . “two girls in their early teens!”

Zeke and Zach were heard to jointly shout once again, “Amen!”

Chapter Six: An Adventure of a Different Kind

The little resort’s boat dock was reached by a long pier constructed with interconnected, floating, wooden pallets, but the parallel swimming dock had to be reached by wading or swimming out to it. This dock, too, floated atop a dozen or so 55-gallon barrels. What was different from the fishing dock, however, was a low wooden rail along each of the four sides, with an opening on two of its sides for laddered entrances and exits to the water. There was also a short tower on the dock for diving, along with a modest, two-curved slide designed to dump a slider into the water.

A special feature of the dock was the fact that since it floated on the aforementioned barrels, there were ten inches or so of airspace between the water and the underside of the dock. This meant that a person could swim under the dock and between some of the barrels, or even walk on the sandy bottom with one’s head easily above the water but under the dock, yet still being able to walk between various barrels.

The Dodge children all knew about and played under the dock, especially enjoying it when it was raining, at least as long as there was no lightening present. One thing they especially liked about the dock’s underwater feature was playing the game of ‘tag.’

The second day of the new family’s stay, Zeke and Zach made a special effort to show the two visiting mid-teen girls around the underwater feature . . . and then suggest they try a special version of tag that the boys had designed. They called it ‘kissing tag.’ The boy or girl ‘tagged’ by the opposite gender was thus entitled to a little peck of a kiss.

The first weekend of the Iowa family’s visit included a Little Dunes BBQ-and-dance to the recreation hall’s jukebox and its 1940’s-to-early-1950’s jitterbug tunes. Not long after supper that night, the four mid-teens left the hall to go swimming.

Smiggs said to Seef, “You know, I don’t remember any of our kids ever going swimming so early after supper. What’s that all about?”

“Well, old man,” Seef responded, grin-faced, “do you not recall your first interest when you were a young boy—that is, other than to pitch horseshoes—when similar-aged girls were around?”

Smiggs waved his hand in mild protest and said, “So, then, young man, tell me, after all of our work with the two adventurers and their hopefully-improved thinking and commitments about restraint and self-control when presented with interesting new situations . . . have we just dealt them a fresh hand? Now what is the answer?”

Seef answered with three words: “Help us, Jesus!”

*****

Terry Dodd is a senior citizen living in Georgia with Helga, his wife of fifteen years. For forty years he earned his living in promotional product sales. For the past twenty-seven years he has found writing to be both hobby and therapy. Having been formally educated in the geologic and biologic sciences, he—with time and the leading of the LORD —managed to overcome the false evolutionary aspect of his teaching in favor of creationism. As a result, the fourteen Christian-centric books he has written over the past quarter-century+ have all (every one) been self-published, including six novels and eight inspirational narratives. His website is terrygdoddbooks.com. Dodd’s other eclectic hobbies include horseshoe pitching and juggling.                                                                                       

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