"You know it means a rough initiation," Larry told him.

"That's OK by me."

"You know what our name means?" Leffler asked.

"Not exactly."

"The Samplers sample life. A taste of everthing. All kinds of experiences," Greg answered. "You still interested?"

"Why not," Tom tried to say casually, sensing the excitement of the forbidden. "Initiation will be in the back room at Angie's Place on Thursday night. Nine o'clock," Larry said.

"I'll be there," Tom promised.

Tom knew that the initiation wouldn't be easy, but he was sure he could take whatever they might think up for him.

They were playing the pinball machine at Angie's when he went in. Each took his cap off and put it on backwards. Tom said, "Hi," but no one answered. He saw Larry go over to Angie and whisper something. Angie nodded his head. Larry started for the back room motioning for the others to follow.

"Handley, you be the first look-out," Larry ordered and Handley silently took his station at the door.

Tom had the eerie feeling of being trapped as all eyes stared at him.

"Take them off," Greg ordered.

"What for?"

"Don't ask questions. Do as you're told," Larry snapped.

Tom unfastened his belt and stepped out of his denims. He held his breath as they moved towards him. He tried to choke back his rising feelings. "You guys are nuts," he managed to say.

"We warned you about a stiff initiation," Greg said.

"Come on, Jenkins, play it through," Leffler said.

Later, they patted him on the back, gave him a shot of whiskey and told him he was a Sampler. Tom tried to match their joviality but couldn't rise above the sickness within him.

Instead of going home he went to the river, sat along the bank and stared into the liquid darkness. It was only when he became cold that he looked at his watch and saw it was nearly two o'clock.

His parents were waiting. "Please don't bawl me out," he pleaded. "I know it's late."

"You deliberately stay out till two o'clock and we're not supposed to bawl you out," his father snapped.

"Tommie, where on earth were you? What were you doing?" his mother asked. "I was initiated into a club."

"What club?" his father asked.

"A club that Larry Mardis and Greg Brogen have."

His father chuckled good naturedly. "Well, why didn't you say so. Something like that is kind of special."

"You should have told us," his mother said.

"I couldn't. Not before initiation."

"Well, get on to bed," his father said. "I'm glad you're in with young Mardis and Brogen. You never know when you might need a favor. Their fathers have some influence in this county."

Tom went upstairs and undressed in the dark. God damn them, he thought. God damn all of them.

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