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Camp Pepin, Deer Island, Pepin, Wisconsin
Keith stared into the flames of the campfire, watching to make sure he didn’t cremate his marshmallow like the last time. “Whose idea was it to become camp counselors?” The kids sat all around the fire, mostly in silence except for the screams now and then when head counselor Lloyd got to a scary part in his tale. Above them the sky was inky black, stars twinkling like diamonds on velvet.
Beside him, Michael laughed quietly. “You’ve sure got a selective memory. It was yours.” He glanced at Keith. “What’s wrong? You were expecting sunshine, swimming, archery, and crafts, weren’t you?” The firelight sparkled in his eyes.
“Yeah, but I didn’t realize how little time I’d get with you.” Three weeks so far, and one more to go. There were six activity periods each day, and they each got one of them off, though not necessarily the same one. Keith blamed that on Christopher, the group leader. He figured Chris had worked out how the land lay between Keith and Michael, and was determined to keep them apart, the asshole. What was the use in having a full day off if Keith didn’t get to leave the camp, or spend it with Michael? And although their cabins were next door to each other, they might as well have been miles apart. As for sex? They’d managed two blow jobs so far, and those had been risky as hell.
Keith couldn’t wait to get home.
“Be honest. It has had its moments, hasn’t it?”
Keith gestured to his sore nose. “Oh, you mean like getting hit in the face when Dale spiked the ball during this morning’s game? Yeah, that was a fun moment. Of course, I couldn’t see it that way while I was waiting for the swelling to go down.” He touched it tentatively and winced. “You sure it’s not broken?”
Michael sighed. “Cathy said not. And stop touching it.” His lips twitched. “What about the hike on Sunday?”
Keith chuckled. “Okay, yeah, that was funny.” The walk through the woods that bordered Lake Pepin had provided an unexpected laugh, even if the three boys involved hadn’t found it amusing at the time. They’d been walking in front of Keith and Michael, and at first Keith had thought they’d stepped on a long stick lying across the path. Except the stick had turned out to be a snake—not a rattler or copperhead, and certainly nothing venomous—and the boys had managed to step on its head, middle, and tail before they turned and ran screaming to Keith and Michael, who assessed the situation and realized their charges were unbitten but shaken.
When they were alone, Keith admitted keeping a straight face had been the hardest thing he’d had to do since their arrival.
More screams shattered the quiet, and Keith shook his head. Lloyd seemed to have an unending supply of scary stories, but he didn’t have to deal with the kids in Keith’s cabin when everyone went to bed. The campers couldn’t sleep, chatting about the story until Keith had been forced to tell them that the next person to talk would be spending the night out in the forest with the wolves and the bears.
That had soon shut them up.
The night air was filled with the aroma of toasted marshmallows, and he wondered how many bags they usually got through during the four weeks of camp.
“I love how they’re all gooey on the inside,” he murmured, removing his marshmallow from the end of his stick, trying not to burn his fingers on its melted innards. “I love the smell too.”
Michael choked out a gasp. “I don’t think you’re the only one,” he whispered, pointing over Keith’s shoulder. “Lloyd. Lloyd!” he shouted urgently.
Keith turned to look—and froze at the sight of a huge black bear lumbering leisurely toward the circle of campers. “Oh shit.” He sprang to his feet.
By then, some of the kids had seen it too, and the screams started again.
“Freeze, everyone!” Michael yelled. His voice carried and most of them complied.
Lloyd stood. “Okay, kids, let’s stay nice and calm, all right?” He grabbed three bags of marshmallows, tore them open, and threw the contents in the bear’s direction. “We’re going to walk calmly to the dining hall. We’ll be fine in there. It has shutters and wooden doors.”
“Don’t you have anti-bear spray or something?” Keith demanded. “Have you had any training in how to deal with bears?”
Lloyd glared at him. “Can we talk about this inside the dining hall? Because, you know... bear.”
All the counsellors helped shoo the kids away from the approaching bear, ushering them to the dining hall. Once inside, Keith, Michael, and the other counselors did their best to calm the frightened kids, assuring them the bear couldn’t get into the hall, while Lloyd went to the phone to call the local game warden.
Michael and Chris made hot chocolate for everyone, and Cathy got the kids singing. Lloyd kept watch through a crack in the door.
“How often do bears get close to the camp?” Keith asked him while the kids went through yet another rendition of “B-I-N-G-O.”
Lloyd huffed. “Let’s just say they’re not very common, but they’re not rare either. And all the training I’ve had amounts to doing exactly what I did—calling the game warden.” He went back to his watch.
The kids launched into a loud rendition of “Five Little Speckled Frogs”, followed by “I’m Being Swallowed By A Boa Constrictor”, which resulted in a lot of laughter. Bags of chips appeared, and the kids crunched happily. Keith groaned when they started on “The Green Grass Grew All Around.”
“That one lasts forever,” he complained.
From the door, Lloyd called for attention, and the dining hall fell silent. “It’s okay, everyone. The game warden has tranquilized the bear and it’s been taken away.” He glanced at his watch. “And it’s too late to go back to the fire. Time for bed.”
That earned him a chorus of groans and a couple of boos.
He flung the door open, and the kids headed out, although several of them searched for sticks that they carried on the way back to their cabins.
