“Hell, no. I say we go for it,” Boomer said.

“Good idea, Pete,” Cady said.

“Super, super idea. I wish I had thought of it,” Andy said.

“Let’s do it. I’ve heard so much about how much fun you guys had when you were kids, I want to be part of it,” Jill said.

“Wait, there’s more,” Pete said. “I went to Wal-Mart when it opened this morning and bought five bikes, the same kind we had when we were kids. I dropped them in the bushes before I came out here. We need the bikes to tear around in.”

“Let’s go,” Boomer said.

Thirty minutes later, Cady said, “How many tickets are we going to get for this?”

“A fistful.” Boomer grinned.

“It’ll be worth it.” Pete shed his jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his white shirt. He yanked at his tie and tossed it into the bushes. Boomer and Andy did the same thing.

Cady and Jill kicked off their heels, then their suit jackets.

Pete pulled the bikes out of the bushes. “We can drop them off at the YMCA later, and they’ll find some kids to give them to,” he said. “Pink for you, Cady, lavender for Jill. Boomer gets the blue one, Andy gets the green, and I get the red one. Last one to the bottom goes first on the zip line. Remember the bump at the bottom, then you do the wheelie. On the count of three we go.”

They were children again as they lined up their bikes, their heads low over the handlebars, waiting for Pete’s count of three.

“One, two, three!”

They whooped and hollered, whistled and screamed as they careened down the embankment, popping their wheelies, then skidding to a stop in a half circle. They were breathless as they waited for Pete to announce the winner and the loser.

“I came in first!” Pete chortled. “Jill came in last. She takes the zip first. Last one up the tree is a monkey’s uncle. Out to the branch, then jump to the ground, on your bike, and up to the Judas tree. On the count of three!”

Breathless, they lined up again, perspiration dripping down their faces. Cady hiked her skirt up as far as it would go, so did Jill.

“Three!”

They were like a bunch of agile monkeys as they shinnied up the tree, then leaped to the ground and pedaled to the top of the embankment and over to the Judas tree. Boomer took it hands down while Pete came in last.

Exhausted, their chests heaving, wide grins on their faces, they fell to the ground beneath the Judas tree, which, at last in full bloom, no longer seemed spooky, but only protective of this place of their childhood.

“I think we’re too old for this,” Andy gasped.

“Speak for yourself,” Boomer groaned.

“How are we going to feel in the morning?” Jill panted.

“Like a bunch of fools.” Pete laughed. The others joined him.