Camouflage by Gloria Miklowitz

maybe his dad and the others were all talk. But
they weren’t all talk;
he knew it. You don’t keep acquiring more and bigger weapons without finding a reason to use them. Probably every weapon ever built got used.
    He’d better keep alert. But even if he did learn of some planned action, what would he do about it? He crossed his arms over his chest, drew a deep breath, and tried to get his mind on something else. Verity. He’d think about her again.
    â€œGun club’s meeting here tonight,” his father announced as soon as they drove off the main road toward the house. Prince barked an excited welcome, tail wagging his whole body, as the truck rolled to a stop.
    Kyle opened the door and jumped down.
Great!
Maybe he’d get to use some of the different pistols and rifles he’d seen at the fair. Maybe he could try his skill against the experienced men. “Can I help?” he asked eagerly, skipping in front of his father and Marie as they reached the house.
    â€œSure. Set up chairs. Outdoors. You’ll find them stacked against the wall in the barn. We’ll be meeting first.”
    â€œWhy outdoors? There’ll be hordes of mosquitoes.”
    â€œJust do what I said.” His father dropped his cigarette to the ground and stomped it out with the toe of his boot. “Maybe you’ll be a lawyer. You sure ask lots of questions.”
    When they entered the house, Marie went off to the kitchen to fix supper and his father checked the blinking message machine. Kyle hung back, peeling a banana.
    â€œEd, it’s Thad. Be a little late but I’ll be there.”
    â€œRoger here. Okay if I bring a guest tonight?”
    â€œHell, no!” his father roared, though the man on the answering machine couldn’t hear. “He oughta know we got to check the guy out first!”
    â€œEasy, Ed,” Marie called from the kitchen. “You know he wouldn’t bring someone he couldn’t trust.”
    A woman’s voice. “Kyle, honey? It’s Sunday afternoon. Everything all right? How about a phone call?”
    â€œI just talked to her yesterday!” Kyle complained.
    Another female voice, low and enticing. “Mr. Klinger? Do you take girls in your gun club? I’m a real good shot. Honest.” A sexy giggle.
    Kyle’s eyes darted from his father to Marie.
    â€œDoesn’t give up easy, does she?” his father asked, frowning.
    â€œThat poor child!” Marie smiled.
    And then Kyle heard the deep, resonant voice of Mr. Johnson. “Ed? Earl here. Call me soon as you can. I got trouble, bad trouble!”
    â€œDidn’t I ask you to set out the chairs?” his father said, picking up the receiver. “Go on! Skedaddle.” He held the phone, eyes on Kyle, waiting.
    Kyle turned away reluctantly. His father didn’t want him hearing whatever he had to say to Mr. Johnson. Come to think of it, his dad used the phone very little and said very little when he did. Mostly “yes,” “no,” and “what?” Did he think the phones were bugged? Did he think the
house
was bugged? Maybe that’s why he wanted the meeting outdoors. Kyle shook his head. Now who was acting paranoid?

    Crickets clicked loudly and the resident owl hooted, though it was still light when Kyle finished setting out the chairs. Cars and trucks began pulling in, churning up mud from the wet ground, and parking near the barn.
    Kyle recognized some of the men from the night at the Hoot Owl, but most he’d never seen before, and there were no women. The men carried rifles and wore combat boots and camouflage jumpsuits.
    His dad had changed into a fresh uniform with stars on the shoulders. “General!” Men came up to him and saluted. For the moment Kyle put aside his misgivings about the militia and basked just in being his father’s son. He grinned until his face hurt. Brian and his mom should see all the respect and