The Troop

“You guys’re being babies,” Kent said, drawing the last word out: baaaaay-bies. “My dad says the most obvious conclusion is usually the right one. Ninety-nine-point-nine-nine percent of the time.”

“So what’s the most obvious conclusion?” Shelley asked, his vapid face oriented on Kent. “His skin looked like it was melting.”

The boys fell silent.

“I just think the guy is sick, is all,” Max said after a while. “And I’ve been thinking about it.”

“So have I,” said Ephraim.

“And me,” Newt said.

Kent snorted. “Tim’s a doctor, isn’t he? That’s his job, isn’t it? By the time we get back, he’d better have everything sorted out.”

He kicked the fire apart, scattering bits of flaming driftwood.

Before departing, Newton gathered the still-glowing sticks and doused them in the ocean. Scout’s Law number four: Honor and protect Nature in all her abundance.

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