Read How Best to Avoid Dying for Free Online Page B

“forget” to strap in on the ropes course on day ten of session six, but Kent had to go and slip out of the waterslide and fall off a cliff.
    The kids I counsel are all somber as we walk back to the cabin.
    â€œHe must have been going damn fast to fly out like that,” one of the kids says.
    â€œI heard he shaved his legs to make him slicker,” another says.
    â€œMan, he was brave.”
    I pray for these kids a lot. Every morning I wake up before Morning Bell and pray God will crack their hearts open like walnuts. I love them. How can you not love someone you’re planning to die for? I used to imagine them all crying after I died on the ropes course, sorry they hadn’t listened or gotten to know me. I pictured them standing up on that last day and telling everyone they love Jesus and then coming back to Mountain Peak years later with their kids or grandkids and pointing out the spot I died at and holding hands with their grandkids and everybody praying and thanking God for me.
    I tell them to head back to the cabin and I’ll be there in a minute. I don’t have to worry about them sneaking out. Nobody sneaks out after a death.
    I go walking toward the ropes course.
    The stars are amazing up here. The camp is dark. They turn off a bunch of lights when things are sad so the kids can see the stars, especially the shooting stars. So many stars, and Jesus made them all. He knows them all by heart. He knows every single hair on my head. He knows I’m walking now, he is right here with me. But I can’t think of anything to say, cause I’m kind of mad. God knew about that low panel. He knew about the baby oil. He knew it was my turn, but he let Kent put on those Speedos and shave his legs and fall out.
    At the Buenas Vista View I stop and look out over the valley. It’s windy, a little chilly, but I don’t care. It was at this spot I opened up my heart to Jesus five years ago. I didn’t need a dead counselor. I just heard all about the Father’s love and my sin and how they whipped Jesus with this nasty whip with glass in it and then Rich said that if we wanted to have some timealone we could go off and I walked out here and I prayed for a sign and God sent a shooting star right over Camp Mountain Peak. It was wild. Like God ripping the sky just for me. It turns out that you can see like three or four shooting stars every five minutes, but still. I’ve come back every summer since then. I was a camper twice and a junior counselor twice, then last year Rich made me a full counselor. This place is more home than home. It’s my favorite place in the universe.
    I walk on to the ropes course. It’s spooky at night, all the trees and ropes making shadows. It’s real dark too. Smells like pine needles and bark. I think I’m alone but then I see Pricilla sitting on the observation deck, dangling her legs. I go and sit by her and for a while neither of us says anything. Finally she says, real quiet, “So I guess you won’t be dying then, huh?”
    â€œI guess not,” I say. Her hand kind of touches mine, just the fingers. A wind comes by and a few leaves float down.
    â€œSo, you want to pray?” she asks.
    â€œSure,” I say. We bow our heads and our faces kind of get close, real close, touching and…I don’t know. We just start making out. Like totally making out, tongues going all over the place and hands under clothes and yeah, Jesus sees, but I’m like, yeah, look at this Jesus, this is a tit, Jesus, and my hand is on it. And she’s touching my hair and my arms and my legs and between my legs and it’s like praying but faster and more heat and she’s touching my zipper and I’m touching her zipper and there might be a billion shooting stars but I don’t care. Then Rich shows up with his flashlight and catches us. Pricilla starts buttoning up real fast and I’m trying to hide the bulge in my