Camp Lore - 28. Chapter 28

After the handcuffs, the guys kept looking for a trick they could play – one that wouldn’t get the attention of Linden or any parents. They grew up on camp stories and would prime themselves with them whenever they were goofing off – between working, swimming, basketball, cards, and seeing the girls.

“What the best thing we’ve ever pulled at camp?” Jim asked.

“What’s the best thing anyone has?” Paul extended.

“While we were here?”

“Anything you can remember.”

And the four of them would trot out their favorites – partly trying to top each other but also looking for new ideas.

Brian and I just listened. Nate looked bored, like he’d heard them all before, and he probably had so had nothing to add. I knew the other guys had heard them over and over, too, but they obviously didn’t mind.

“Yep,” confirmed Greg. “It’s all familiar territory. Every once in a while, one of them will even turn up in a skit, acted out like some holy Norse legend.”

“At both camps?”

“Yep – ‘cause they often involve both.”

“But the guys’ stories are better,” Dan inserted.

“‘Cause they’re meaner.”

“Funny mean.”

“Funny nasty.”

“Or they take more risks.”

“Or they’re dumber.”

“The girls pranks are always fairly mild.”

“To us.”

“They’re probably rude to them.”

“But they involve shaming – which we never do.”

“Never?”

“Not in that way – guys don’t go that deep.”

“It’s dangerous.”

“We just want other guys to laugh. And then it’s over.”

“On to the next prank.”

“Maybe a better one.”

“Which’ll make a better joke.”

“I know one we’ve missed...”

Then they’d dig up another story, and laugh, and drink beers, if there were any.

“Don’t they ever get tired of it?” I asked Nate.

“Nah – the stories get funnier whenever we hear them. And things get added – things that should’ve happened but no one thought of at the time.”

“And you don’t mind getting embarrassed?”

Because the guys didn’t just tell stories they’d heard. There were at least five or six about each of them, Dan on the basketball court being the latest.

“It’s kind of fun being remembered,” Nate had to admit. “It’s like something you said or did making it into Saturday Night Camp.”

Some of the funniest stories were about things that were once camp traditions – like jockstrap football.

“You’ve got to explain that one,” Brian told the guys at one point.

It was raining, so we couldn’t even play basketball, and it was too early for cards.

“It’s just what it sounds like,” Paul explained. “Guys playing football in jocks.”

“Why?”

“‘Cause it was raining – like now – and there was nothing else to do.”

“This was before everyone carried their own games.”

“But every guy had jock.”

“There isn’t a girl camp equivalent.”

“Bra and panties badminton?”

“That’d be fun to watch.”

“I think we’re losing Jim.”

“Nah – I just need to use the john.”

“Anyway,” Steve picked up, “all the guys had jocks – even the youngest ones.”

“They were on the required inventory.”

“With name tags.”

“Now they’re compression underwear.”

“But compression underwear football doesn’t cut it.”

“And you wouldn’t be almost naked – which was half the fun.”

“This was years ago – when no one was ever naked.”

“Explain how you were born then.”

“Divine intervention.”

And we all laughed.

“Anyway, you can tell why Linden no longer allows it – considering that one mother.”

“They’d probably play skin football if it weren’t dangerous.”

“Ow!”

“Jim’s back.

“I was gone for fifteen seconds.”

“You always were quick.”

“Jerk!”

“Halfway there.”

“And the best stories,” Steve refocused, “came from the mud.”

“When it had been raining for a week.”

“And all the kids were crazy.”

“And the quad was a swamp.”

“And they’d run out of movies.”

“And everything else.”

“And it all built to a bunch of guys...”

“...in jocks...”

“...in the mud...”

“...playing tackle football.”

“Of course, the point was never to win.”

“That hardly mattered.”

“The point was to roll your best friends in the mud.”

“Cover them with it.”

“Completely.”

“And sometimes yank down their jocks.”

“Or yank them off.”

“And play keep away.”

“And this wasn’t just the kids.”

“Not even just the older ones.”

“It was the counselors.”

“And the staff.”

“And Linden’s father even played.”

“Once.”

“So Linden said.”

“He was trying to be one of the guys.”

“But that was a joke.”

“‘Cause he turned himself into the biggest target.”

“Who want to play football...”

“When you could cover the camp owner with mud?”

“It’s like ‘Dunk the Teacher.’”

“And once they did that, you know what they went after.”

“No one cared about football.”

“So you know why Linden never risked it.”

“Think how that would make the mothers scream.”

“Talk about lawsuits.”

“They weren’t playing when he owned the camp anyway.”

“So the best jockstrap football stories go back fifty or sixty years.”

“And the guys are grandfathers now.”

“Or older.”

“Or dead.”

“That’s depressing.”

“Leave it to Dan to mess up the best stories.”

“I was just saying...”

“But Linden can still pick out their pictures on the Mess Hall walls.”

“That’s the great thing about camp.”

“No one really dies.”

“Kids’ll be talking about Dan and the handcuffs long after he’s worms.”

“That’s not funny,” Dan insisted. “And either was pulling down my shorts.”

The guys just looked at him.

“Okay, it was,” he admitted.

And he laughed.

“You better believe it,” Paul threatened. “Or we’ll do it again.”

“Handcuffs are stored away – all locked up.”

“We’ll get your keys.”

“It’s a combination lock.”

“We have our ways.” And Paul wiggled his index finger at Dan.

For a moment, I didn’t understand that. Then I realized Dan was trying very hard not to laugh – giggle really. Because soon all three of his friends, plus Nate and Greg, were wiggling their index fingers at him, and he was just giggling and giggling.

“Does this work for anyone?” Brian asked. And he wiggled his finger at Dan – who just giggled some more.

“Okay, enough,” Steve finally said. “We don’t want to have another accident.”

“Never gonna happen again,” Dan declared. “I know to get out of here first.”

“Not if we hold you down.”

“You wouldn’t for one thing. We’ve gotten too old – it’s too personal. Plus, I’m faster.”

He’d already moved near the door.

“He used to hate being touched,” Steve explained.

“When I was a kid,” Dan allowed. “It just bugged me.”

“And somehow everyone found out.”

“The first summer?”

Dan nodded.

“So some counselor invented The Magic Finger.”

“Magic Index Finger. And his name was Gordon the creep.”

“But a good counselor.”

“Because any time Dan did something wrong...”

“Or wouldn’t listen...”

“Gordon would wiggle his finger.”

“As if warning what would happen next.”

“And Dan would start giggling.”

“Some summer, I’m gonna show up, and it’s not gonna work anymore,” Dan insisted. “I’m almost past it now.”

“But not completely.”

And Jim wiggled his finger.

And Dan giggled.

Just like that.

I tried.

And Dan giggled some more.

“No fair! You don’t even know me.”

“Sorry,” I said.

“Never apologize,” Paul warned.

“It’ll break the curse.”

“The Curse of the Index Finger,”

“Magic Index Finger,” they chorused in their deepest voices.

While Dan giggled.

It was another camp story.