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Show 27, "Where we fishing tomorrow, John?" he'd call through the Anderson's screen door on a Saturday night. His dad would get up to let him in, looking pleased but sounding mad. "Hell, Magleby, you're getting to be a regular pest. Can't you find anyone else to fish with? Jeezus Christ in a wheelbarrow!" With everyone laughing then, Garth would march right into the kitchen, pour himself a mug of coffee, and they'd begin to plan. The three of them would be out on the stream by six o'clock the next morning. It was always a strain to call his fishing buddy "Mr. Magleby" Monday mornings at school, but JD hadn't slipped yet. Now, striding across the browned lawn to the little frame house where Garth lived alone, JD turned scared. He hoped he wouldn't make an ass of himself. How was he going to tell Garth, anyway? "Hey, look who's here," Garth met him at the door wearing blue jeans and a sheepskin vest. Garth's close-trimmed red beard surrounded the friendliest smile JD had seen all weekend. "Come on in, JD!" he threw open the door. "What's it going to do, rain or snow?" JD felt better already. "Both," he said. "Here, take off your coat. You got an elk report for me?" "We saw three. And some deer from a distance. Mostly it was quiet." Quiet I The word made faces at him. "That doesn't sound so good. Maybe we'll have to hunt up in the timber." Garth pulled out a chair for JD. "You better sit a spell." "The snow might bring 'em down," JD stalled, thinking maybe he wouldn't say anything to Garth after all about the UFO. It was comfortable enough just sitting there at the dining room table where they always talked. Actually he'd never seen the table in its entirety. Tonight, as usual, it was covered with papers - aptitude tests, merit test folders, pamphlets, fish and game bulletins, paperback books on geology and crosscountry skiing and fly-tying. "Can I get you a coke?" Garth offered. "You want one of Kay Eagleton's cinnamon rolls? She thinks I'm losing weight," he chuckled. "If I look haggard enough when I'm over there she bakes me something." "No. No, thanks," JD said. There was a long silence, then Garth leaned forward and studied JD's face at close range. "No coke? You're sick," he announced. |