Camp X by Eric Walters Page B

the floor and kicked them around with his foot.
    â€œWe have to make it look lived in,” he said. “We’ll just turn out the lights and . . . Supper—we didn’t clean up after supper! The kitchen is still a mess! We have to clean it or Mom will kill us!”
    We rushed to the kitchen. There were dishes everywhere. We’d figured we’d have plenty of time to clean up sometime between getting home and getting to bed. We hadn’t figured on not getting home until two in the morning.
    Jack filled up the sink and rubbed the cloth against a small piece of dish soap. I frantically started scraping the plates off and tossing them into the water.
    â€œI’ll wash, you dry and put things away,” Jack ordered. “Wipe down the counter and the table.”
    I grabbed a cloth from the sink and started to follow his directions, beginning with the table. I wiped part and then moved dishes to the sink, returning to wipe down another section. Soon both the counter and table were clean, so I took a tea towel and started to dry part of the growing dish pile. We’d never cleaned up so fast. Jack finished scrubbing out thecasserole dish—Mom had made us a casserole for supper and all we’d had to do was heat it up. He then took a broom and began to sweep the floor.
    â€œWe don’t usually sweep up,” I said.
    He looked at me, then the broom, and shrugged. “You’re right. I’ll help you finish that up, and then we gotta be in bed before Mom comes through that door or we’re dead. She’ll have old lady Henderson sitting us starting tomorrow.”
    Jack hadn’t meant that as a threat but it certainly made me move just a little bit faster. Jack had gotten another tea towel and pitched in. Within a minute I was drying the last of the cutlery and dropping it into the drawer.
    â€œGreat, now let’s get upstairs and—”
    The door burst open. “Boys, I’m home!” Mom called out.
    We were dead.
    Mom rushed over and to my complete shock threw one arm around me and the other around Jack, pulling us close to her. My eyes caught Jack’s. He looked as surprised as me.
    â€œI’m so sorry, boys! It wasn’t my fault I’m so late. You must be worried sick!”
    â€œWe knew there was trouble with the bus,” I said.
    â€œYou did? How did you know that?”
    â€œUm . . . I . . .” Of course there was no possible way I could have known.
    â€œWe figured it must be trouble with the bus,” Jack said, jumping in to rescue me. “You know how you’re always saying how broken down it is?”
    â€œYes . . . I guess I have mentioned that a couple of times . . .”
    â€œSo is that what happened?” Jack asked.
    â€œYes, but—”
    â€œI told George that was all that happened. He didn’t believe me, but I told him not to worry, that you’d be home soon.”
    â€œI thought you’d both be frantic,” she said.
    â€œCome on, Mom, I’m fourteen and in charge. There was nothing to worry about,” Jack reassured her. “I tried to send him to bed, but he was too worried, so that’s why we’re still up. That’s okay, isn’t it?”
    â€œThat’s all right,” Mom said. She gave me a little kiss on the cheek and then did the same to Jack. “I thought you’d be worried, especially after I wasn’t able to call you on my break like I always do.”
    â€œWe were so busy cleaning up the kitchen that we didn’t even notice you didn’t call until later,” Jack said. “You know there’s nothing to worry about as long as I’m in charge.”
    â€œYou really are the man of the house,” she said, giving him another kiss. “Now, I think it’s time that all of us got to bed.”
    We said our goodnights and then headed for our bedroom. I snuggled down into the sheets while Jack turned off the