Saturday, June 20
The road back to camp from the Umatilla threads its way between the many lakes that dot the area like windows to the sky that have accidentally fallen to earth. The setting sun burned the road with brilliance as I drove farther west. Over time, the extreme heat causes the asphalt to crack, but the country highway is so remote the can only patch the fissures with tar. From above, the road takes a creased and cracked serpentine path through the woods. I take the turns like I’m on a closed course. Cutting the inside close and skimming to the outside as I pull her through. The local cops usually post a man outside the camp, but they’d expect to see cars speeding away from camp, not back toward it.
Lauren came up to visit after the children left, both of which were welcome. (Though I know that the rest of the staff were ready to strangle some of their kids by comparison) During her visit, we logged more miles than I had the week before, and I also managed to spend most of last week’s paycheck to boot. Words cannot describe the joy I felt in my time with her. She filled me with such a desire to see the rest of the home folk; I believe I will return next weekend for a short visit. It was not a day of extraordinary proportions, but it was made so, because of her. Any man would be blessed for the love of such a girl.
Called home on the way back to camp. Got to talk to both Mom and Dad. I was glad to hear from them. It had been awhile. I used the opportunity to wish Dad a happy Father’s Day Eve, and also to warn them that I would come crashing home next weekend, and expected to find a grand feast awaiting me. They took the news well.
I had planned to spend my evening in rest, relaxation, and recuperation, but there was a game of manhunt in the works. I hastily stumbled my way back to the cabin, arms laden down with packages. I redressed faster than a whirlwind into black clothing and my skullcap, shortened my laces and headed back into the gym. I didn’t have my warpaint on, but I wouldn’t need that or my tomahawk that night. We were playing against the girls.
Our team fanned out on the All-Purpose Field as the game began. And by “fanning out,” I mean to say, “clumped up by a bunch of trees giggling and whispering as the enemy approached. The APF is stretched out before you get to the baseball diamonds and the break room. With the lights in the break room on, the field is difficult to hide in. It’s completely flat, and only has a few trees along the edge. I knew that if I stuck with these slaphappy stooges, there was little doubt I’d be caught. So I struck out for the bushes along the tennis courts, then hopscotched my way to a retention pond by the maintenance barn, and crawled to the large oak tree on the south side, where I ran smack into the guys I had left on the other side of the field. Then, as we’re sitting in a ditch figuring out what to do next, Nikki wanders onto the field with a cursed floodlight and gives away the other three. While they scarpered, I sat behind a tree and watched them get chased halfway across the field. Next thing I know, I saw a golf cart coming onto the field from the boy’s cabin area. That’s not even right, I thought.
What I failed to realize was that our game of manhunt was in the process of being gate-crashed by the chaperones, who took a dim view of the situation. They suggested we beat it, fast, in different directions. The party trooped glumly back to the gym.
At first, I didn’t understand why we were sent back in, but after we had sat around the gym for a while, I came to realize that sneaking out in the dark seems to be a bit of a tradition among the camp staff. Many of the guys claim to have made it to the girl’s cabins and back. One told me his tale that night. Nighttime operations like a daring incursion to the female area, he explained, take a proper amount of planning and precautions, if you want to dodge the guards. He and a friend suited up all in black, waited for the chaperones to make a circuit, and darted out into the night. Upon arriving at the forbidden area, they waited again for the chaperones to pass. They had completed their business and were on the return when they were very nearly caught. The chaperones were switching sides when one of the boys suddenly snapped a branch under his foot. Instantly, the golf carts swung round, lights blazing, and the race was on. They ran fast, faster than they ever thought they could, dodging trees and obstacles in the dark. The daring duo made it back in the nick of time, and sat inside the cabin gasping for air and peeking out the windows to see if they’d been caught. For them, it was their great escape.
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