"Jimmy Fish, you get your bicycle and get over here, Mrs. Smith needs this order for dinner."  Mrs. Fish had that mother tone that said get over here right now or else.
     And so it went, Friday afternoon in the middle of town.  As dusk fell, so too did the group get smaller and smaller until the only ones left now resorted to playing catch was Henry and Fred.  Their dad had gone on ahead because he had the weekly pay and their mom would be looking for it.  A typical afternoon. As the last of the day's light was disappearing the door of the pickle factory opened and Mr. Pepperson, in his black pinstripe suit with the shiny black shoes, came out, turned locked the door, checked his pocket watch against the big round lighted clock on the corner of Town Hall, clock, snapped his watch shut and proceeded down the wooden steps.
     There in the corner of the building stood Jr. and Mildred.  Jr had put his jacket back on, a bit dusty now from having been thrown on the ground.  Mildred looked as pretty as she had that morning.  She never seemed to have spot of dirt on her. No loose hair ever dangled in her face. Black patton leather shoes were neither scuffed nor lacked shine.  Her lips were now pursed into a frown.
   "Father?" her tiny voice questioned, " Will we be going to Aunt Dorothy's tomorrow?"
    Looking straight ahead as he took her hand, Jr in the rear, they began their walk home to the house on the hill.  He did not answer her.  So she asked again, "Father, ARE we going to Aunt Dorothy's tomorrow? You promised you know.  When Mother asked you last night at the dinner table you told her she could go see that old sister of hers whenever she wanted."
     Maxwell looked down at Mildred, looked straight ahead again and 'ahemed'.
     She looked up at him, expecting an answer, receiving nothing, she looked at the ground as they walked on.  Her father never seemed to quite answer any question.  He was forever 'aheming' and 'hmmming'.
     
     While they sat in the large dinning room slurping soup, Mrs. Pepperson brought up the question of Aunt Dorothy's.  She neither looked at her husband, nor either of her children.  She more or less talked into the soup.
     Maxwell 'ahemed' and then murmured, "got inventory."  He had a nasal sounding voice.  He sniffed and took a sip of soup.
     Mrs. Pepperson sighed and spoke into the soup again. "I suppose I will take little Mildred and go on by myself.  You may as well keep Jr with you.  He is old enough now."
     Mr. Pepperson looked up from his soup.  This was something new.  Jr stay here?  With him?  Why that was unheard of.  He had important work to do.  He didn't need the child hanging around underfoot.
    "No."
     Mrs. Pepperson looked up from her soup. "No?"
    "Yes.  I said no."
     Mrs. Pepperson's cheeks turned the slightest shade of pink.  She didn't often question her husband's judgement.  But she had been thinking about this for awhile now.  Jr was nine years old.  That was plenty old enough to 'help' his father.  And truth be known, the child needed a bit more of a fatherly influence.
     There was no further discussion at the table, and as the dishes were being cleared, Jr wondered if he was going to Aunt Dorothy's or staying home and getting the rare chance to go to the factory.

     Chapter 3

When morning dawned that Saturday morning, Jr still wasn't sure how his day would turn out, but his mother had come in, opened the shade and told him to get dressed in his jeans and sneakers and come down for breakfast.  That was the usual Saturday attire, so there was no clue there.  Having done a quick comb over of his very straight, very black hair, Jr tramped down the stairs nosily, jumping the last step to the floor.
     Mr. Pepperson was seated at the kitchen table with his head behind a newspaper.
   "JR." He said loudly. "Must you be so loud?"
     Jr, not having said a word, took his place at the table.  It looked like cold cereal today.  That was odd. Usually, Saturdays and Sundays were reserved for eggs or pancakes or french toast.  He looked around.  For the first time he noticed that his mother was no where to be found.  Neither was Mildred.  The table was set for just himself and his father.  It dawned on him that he must be going with his father to work.  He smiled and poured cereal into his bowl.
     There was no sound from behind the newspaper, except for the occasionally hand reaching around for the cup of coffee on the table.
    Jr ate in silence for a while. "Father, " he finally said, "what time will we be going to the factory? Do you have very much to do?  What will I do?"
   "Ahem."
     Jr shrugged and continued chewing his cereal.  When he was done, he put his bowl in the sink and stood in front of the counter, waiting.
     After several minutes, his father slowly put down the newspaper. " Ahem, well then Jr, you may go out and play."    And that was that.
     Deflated, Jr's face fell.  He supposed he should have expected this.  His father never took him to work.  Little beknownst to him, his mother had taken Mildred as soon as she had come into Jr's room, and had gone on ahead to Dorothy's.  She had never done that before.  But then, he had never been home alone with his father before either.  He wasn't sure what to do.  He stood in front of the counter as he watched his father rise and disappear into the other room.
     "I won't be going to the factory today."  Came a voice from the study.  Now Jr was confused.  If he wasn't going to the factory?  What was he going to do?
     Jr finally took his gray jacket off the coat tree by the back door and quietly let himself out of the house.  It was early.  The air was still crisp although it would undoubtedly warm up as the sun grew higher in the sky.  He shuffled down the back path, passing his brand new Schwinn bicycle, passed the unraveled hose he was suppose to roll up last night and had forgotten.  He got to the driveway and stopped.  He wondered if it was too early for the guys to be out yet.  Never having been given any sort of freedom before, he was quite uncertain about what the guys even did on the weekends.  He was usually at Aunt Dorothy's or in the city shopping with his mother.Pausing at the bottom of the driveway, looking both ways, he decided to head downtown.  He could have gone down the hill and headed over one of the side streets to see if any of the guys were out, but he figured he would have more success if he went to where they usually hung around.
  As he shuffled his feet in the leaves, he suddenly stopped.  Was someone following him?  He thought he heard some crunching leaves.  When he stopped, the crunching stopped.  He walked a little and the crunching started again.  He stopped.  Several times he repeated this.  He wasn't exactly afraid.  it was probably just one of the guys trying to scare him.
     "Hey, who's doing that?  I'm not afraid you know."  His voice sounded loud in the early morning quiet.  Of course there was no response.  He walked some more.  More crunching.
     "Stop it!" He said loudly.  He walked a little faster.  More crunching.  "I said stop it.  Come on out !!"  He walk had quickened to a jog.  He was approaching the center of town.  He spotted Fred and Sam.  His heart pounding a little harder than usual, he slowed his pace and joined up with the two, casually as if no one had been chasing him.
     "Mornin'" he mumbled.  Fred and Sam both looked at Jr as if he were a ghost.
      "Hey," they both said at once. "What're you doing here?"
      Jr. shrugged and answered, " My dad let me out."  Well, that didn't come out just right.  " I mean, my father let me come and play."
     Sam sniggered.  Let him out was more like it.  They had never seen Jr or Mildred for that matter.  He sure would like to know what went on in that big old house on the hill.  Those Peppersons were weird.

     Standing around for a few minutes, Jr's heart rate returned to normal, though he kept looking around waiting for someone to jump out at him.
      "What do you guys do on Saturdays?'  he finally asked.  The two looked at him as if he had sprouted a horn or something.
     Fred smiled finally and said, "Stuff."  Jr shrugged and stood there with the two of them.  As the minutes passed, George and Henry arrived as did Sally.  She was a tomb boy who wore jeans and was always with the guys.
     Finally when no one else showed up Henry said, "So, what's it to be today boys?"  Some looks passed among the boys.
    " We could go bike over to the farm and see if there are any pumpkins." someone offered, which was met with "nah, no".
    "How about seeing if there are any fish in the creek?'  Again, no.
    Finally, George's face lit up, "Hey, I have a great idea.  Lets go to the factory."
     Faces looked up at him. This was a new idea. Then they all looked at Jr.  He must have a key.
     "Oh, no, no, no..." he backed up, " we can't do that.  My father would kill me.  Besides I don't know how to get in."  Although he knew he shouldn't even consider the possibility, but then again.
      "Aw, we could get in the broken window in the back," George said, "besides, I can say who goes in there too you know."  The others nodded and after a quick vote, they all headed around to the back of the building.