This is a small adaption of my life at sleep away camp. Not all of this happened to me, but I love the place and thought I'd make it into an interesting story.
Danger in the Dark
Getting There
For the record, none of this was my idea, or fault. It wasn’t my idea to go to Camp Shankitunk in God knows where Upstate New York, and it wasn’t my fault that I got into so much trouble. It was Silver’s. But I’m getting ahead of myself. First I need to tell you how it began, and pay attention, because I don’t like repeating myself. So here you go, a story from the very beginning.
BEEP! I grabbed my seat as Mom swerved around yet another curve.
“Man these road.” She exclaimed, “It’s like they want you to crash.”
If she had read the map in the first place, there wouldn’t have been any sharp turns or fifty foot drops, or pine trees to crash into, just a nice solid road. But nooooo, she didn’t want to take my way, she said she knew exactly where she was going, and that’s how I ended up an hour late.
“How far are we?” She asked, and I pulled out my emergency atlas.
About twenty minutes into the labyrinth of twists and turns, Mom had crumbled and asked for the map. However, we were way past any means of retracing our tracks, and were forced to keep on driving.
I consulted the chart, “It’s down this road, up on the left.” The forest was thick and I could barely see anything on the other side. Soon the branches became fewer and fewer until I could see small wooden buildings on the other side.
“Oh here it is!” Mom cried out and pointed to a little sign. Inscribed on it in shiny green lettering were the words: Welcome to 4-H Camp Shankitunk. I leaned out the window and took in the giant pines and loose stone driveway, which soon gave way to fresh grass.
“Oh how quaint.” Said Mom, but I stayed silent, “Look Farren, they have a pool!”
A pool was not going to change that fact that I was being dumped in the middle of nowhere for two weeks. By my parents.
Dad hadn’t come to drop me off because he had business. He always had business. Except for two weeks, the two weeks I was going to camp, the two weeks my parents had taken off for a cruise. That’s right, my parents were going on a Honeymoon cruise while I was stuck in the last place I wanted to be.
The car pulled onto the field and parked in one of the designated camper spaces.
Getting out of the car, Mom said, “Well here we are, let’s go sign you in.”
She looked around for a minute until I said, “The Mess Hall is this way.” I pointed to a large important looking building and began walking towards it. I stopped in front and examined a gold plaque on the wall. “Dedicated to Jimmy Rice.” I read from the plaque. Below that was the building name, Rice Hall. Had a nice ring to it.
“Come on Farren.” My Mom called to me from the door, and I followed her in. Inside was as rustic as out; a stone floored foyer, with bathrooms to the left and offices to the right. There were pictures of past staff members and counselors hanging by the offices and most had captions. I looked at one with a guy wearing a black cape and mask while running across a field. The caption read: Kevin dressed as Batman for killer colors. Week one.
I walked into the large eating area that would soon be my destination for breakfast, lunch and dinner. The long wooden benches looked splintery and cold, and the tables were plastic and stained. I saw that the room even had concrete floors, and was instantly overwhelmed by joy, and sarcasm.
We stood in a long line of parents and other campers. After about thirty minutes we were finally called to one of the nurses tables.
“And what is your name?” She asked.
“Farren Walker.” I muttered, but the woman kept her smile. She had kind brown eyes that tried to give me hope, but inevitably failed. I grinned back slightly and she began to talk health with my Mother.
“Does she have all her shots?”
“Yes.”
“Ever had any cases of lice?”
“No.”
“Any allergies.”
“No.”
My Mom handed her my files and the nurse, Mrs. Murphy according to her nametag, pointed us to another table. We sat again and yet another person examined my files.
“And what classes did you have sweetheart?” I could from her tone that she probably used sweetheart on every kid that walked through that door, but I kept it to myself and jogged my memory for my classes.
“Umm, I took, Backpacking Two, Team Challenge, and Archery.” My memory served me well, and soon the day schedule was in my hands.
“Use this to get to all your classes.” Instructed the woman, “You’re in cabin five.”
“Thanks.” I mumbled, not knowing if I really meant it. From the looks of the map, the camp was medium sized. My cabin was right next to the Rec Hall, whatever that was. The camp was actually well prepared, and had an abundance of classes for every interest. There was swimming, backyard cookery, photography, drama, woodworking and shooting sports, just to name a few.
I was glancing around the room, and looking at various pictures on the walls, when I spotted another camper standing at another table. He looked about my age give or take a year, and he was about an inch shorter than me. He had pretty green eyes, and strait brown hair. Aren’t guys with brunette hair so iconic?
I was still staring at him, when we met eyes, his shiny greens to my icy blues. Quickly I broke the connection, not wanting someone I’d never even met to think I was creepy, but honestly, I longed to look back.
“And here you are.” The woman handed my Mom the files back and pointed to my map. “You can go to your cabin now if you like, I’m sure your counselor will be glad to meet you.”
I nodded enthusiastically, keeping the sarcastic comments to myself. My Mom took me by the arm to lead me out, and I looked to see if that boy with green eyes was still there, but he had already gone.
Mom clicked the keys and the trunk door opened, revealing my yellow suitcase and backpack.
“I’m going to go look around if that’s okay with you.” Mom said as I lugged the baggage out of our trunk.
“Groovy.” I said in my completely sarcastic tone, but my Mother barley noticed as she walked off. The bag refused to roll across the uneven ground, and I was forced to carry it around with my backpack. Thankfully cabin five wasn’t far, and it took only a minute to get to.
Every cabin had a saying or picture painted on the door. One said the Bat Cave, on had a painting of the Earth, but mine had a saying. One I now remember quite well.
“If you can talk you can sing, if you can walk you can dance.” I read off the door before entering. The inside of the cabin was small, with just enough room for sleeping and storing clothes. Five bunk beds stood on the cold stone floor, and each had a bare mattress sitting on it.
Charming, I thought as I pushed my suitcase under a bed and climbed to the second bunk and began dressing the mattress. The window above me was nothing but screen, and if it rained, I would get soaked. Looking around, I realized that the cabin really was nothing but wood and screen. There were no electrical outlets, no running water, nothing but a concrete floor and wooden walls.
With a sigh, I climbed up to my bunk, and took a breath of the fresh air, one of the only good things I could think of at the time. I lay my head down on the pillow, and for a minute it was so dang peaceful.
Then the door banged open and another girl walked in, carrying about six bags, two of which, had to be entirely filled with makeup.
“Finally,” She sighed, “I had to lug these bags all the way from cabin twelve.” I rolled my eyes, cabin twelve was just across the camp, and if she really wanted to complain she should make a better case.
I wanted to sit up and ask her what her name was, even if she was a jerk, but I never got the chance, because the minute I even brought my head off the pillow, a sleeping bag landed on my face.
“Mphm!” I sat up angrily, “Excuse me?”
She jumped, “Hey!” She yelled, “What are you doing up there?”
“Trying to get the sleeping bag imprint off my face.” I jumped down from the bunk, “What are you doing down here?”
She scoffed, “I am trying to set up my bunk thank you very much.”
I pointed at the bunk bed, “You mean my bunk?”
“No.” She said, “My bunk. This is always my bunk. I’m a staff kid.”
“So you’re infected with staff?” I asked, “Why are you at camp?”
“Not that staff moron, staff as in employees.” She jerked a finger at the art shed, “My Mom’s art director.” Did she just say moron?
“What are you going to do?” I asked, “Use your mixed martial arts and crafts skills on me?” Stella stepped forward, eyes blazing.
“Get on my bad side,” She hissed like a viper, “And I will make your life here hell. Now just give me that bunk and we’re even.”
I looked from the bunk to her and back again, “I’m thinking no.” I walked towards the door; her ego was taking up all the space.
“You don’t want to start this.” She warned me, “I always get what I want.”
Walking out the door I called back, “Well there’s a first time for everything.” And left her fuming inside.
