Camp Lore - 7. Chapter 7

Our bunk was separated from the other buildings. It was behind the Mess Hall and in back of a small, outdoor basketball court.

“That one’s ours,” Nate explained. “If we want to play other guys, we can bring them over. But no one can use it without us.”

“Why?’

“Waiters’ privileges. We’ve got one or two.”

“You play a lot of basketball?”

“Oh, yeah – more than anything. Swimming, tennis, soccer, touch football – they’re great. But it’s always easy to start a pick-up game.”

He looked at me. I was a few inches taller.

“Wrestling,’ I said, and he got it immediately – that wrestling was my winter sport.

“But you play?” he asked.

“Not as well as I do other things.” I shrugged. “Though I don’t do other things as well as other guys, either. I kinda play back-up.”

“‘Long as you can hold even.”

He seemed happy.

Just ahead of us, the slowest of the five waiters was bumping a trunk up a couple of concrete steps and into our bunk. Two more trunks sat on the grass, one of them mine.

“I‘ll help with yours, if you help with mine,” Nate said.

“Sure.”

We carried mine first – going past the screen door into a room that looked halfway between a good motel and a slick dorm. Four beds. Four closets. Bureaus next to the beds. A round table and four folding chairs in the middle. Linoleum floor. Dropped ceiling. Recessed lights. Windows on three sides. And a mini-fridge.

“There’s air conditioning when we really need it,” Nate said. “But that’s almost never – it gets cool here at night. And there are only a couple of hot ones, in July and August.”

He grinned at the four guys, all busy unpacking their trunks, then nodded me towards a doorway that divided their closets. Just past the opening were the bathrooms. Two stalls and two sinks on one side and two showers on the other. We went through a matching doorway at the other end of the short hall and found a duplicate room.

The fifth waiter was fumbling with his lock, as if trying to remember the combination. One of the beds was already made up, and Nate asked which of the two empties I wanted. I nodded towards the neat side, and Nate laughed.

“Good choice. He’s probably clean, and we have inspection.”

“You’re joking? Like the Army?”

I knew that from movies, too.

“Not that bad. They just want to make sure nothing’s growing under our beds. And that the bathrooms don’t look gross.”

We set down my trunk at the foot of my new bed, and I turned to go back.

“Nah. Let’s go this way.”

And Nate led me out the far screen door.

“It’s easier than cutting through.”

Outside, we turned toward the basketball court, and – as we passed – Nate did a quick run-up and dunked an imaginary ball.

“Perfect – every time. At least without a ball.”

“You looked pretty good.”

“A lot of practice – though I keep hoping I’ll get taller. Doesn’t seem likely now.”

“You’re not short.”

“Nearly five-eleven. But I keep hoping for six.”

A moment later, we picked up his trunk and carried it through the same door we’d left. When we came back the room, the other guys were there.

“You’re not that fast,” Nate joked.

“We’re just taking a break. Steve figured we should introduce ourselves.”

Steve – I guessed – smiled and raised his hand slightly, and the others said, “Jim.” “Paul.” “Dan.” The guy who’d already been on our side added “Greg.”

“I knew you guys would room together,” Nate kidded.

“Coulda bet on that,” Jim said, laughing.

“They’ve been together since third grade.”

“Most of us second,” Dan put in. “Jim didn’t come till fourth. “And you two.”

“I was nine,” Greg said.

“Coulda been third. Coulda been fourth.”

“I think you were here before me,” Nate told Greg.

“Maybe. I just remember nine.”

“Cause his birthday’s in July. It’s great to have a birthday in camp. They do all kinds of neat things.”

“Trying to make up for anything you think you’re missing.”

“And your parents bring presents.”

“Or send them.”

“Like we don’t get enough.”

“CANDY!”

“Which everyone shares.”

“Almost.”

“You still haven’t told us your name,” Jim pointed out.

“Oh. Sorry. Rob. I was trying to remember yours.”

Which I really couldn’t. There were only five, but they’d come at me too fast.

“Don’t worry. We’ll be all over each other for the next eight weeks. You won’t hate us, but you’ll be happy to go home.”

“I’m never happy to go home,” I think Paul said.

“Because school starts.

“School.”

He screwed up his face.

“But this is our last year!”

“Senioritis!”

“Senior slump!”

“Senior drinking!”

“More fake IDs.”

“Long as you get into college, Dan.”

“No problem there. I’m not that dumb.”

“Slacker Dan” one of his friends joked.

“We gotta unpack,” Steve told his friends. “Gotta work in an hour – less.”

“Is it really that late?” Nate asked.

“You’ll be fine. “We have plenty of time. And it’s not like we didn’t do this last summer.”

“He hasn’t,” Nate said, pointing at me.

“And that guy,” Steve said, pointing at the made-up bed.

“Wonder who he is?”

“We’ll find out soon enough.”

“Yeah.”

“Let’s go,” Steve told his friends.

And they vanished.

Nate looked at Greg, and Greg looked back. And they both cracked up.

“Nothing ever changes with them,” Nate said.

“Probably nothing changes with us, either,” Greg admitted.

“Still acting?”

“Why else would I be here?”

Nate laughed. Then Greg asked, “Still horny?”

“Why else would I be here?”