Camp Lore - 49. Chapter 49

The last week of camp was busy. There was the joint camp musical, performed in the larger girls’ Rec Hall, Tuesday through Thursday nights, Camper Recognition Night on Friday, again for both camps in the girls’ Rec Hall, and finally, the last Saturday Night Camp also performed for both camps, because Sunday night, when the show was usually performed at the girls’ camp, most of us would be home.

Usually, Greg said, the last Saturday Night was a recap of the best skits of the summer, followed by a gentle roast of Linden and his wife, Marie, not just by the troupe, but also by campers, counselors, and staff.

“So you’re basically doing repeats?” I joked.

“It’s tradition.”

But this year, the final Saturday Night Camp was different. When the curtain opened and the lights came up, the six comedy troupe members were sitting around a table, drinking fake beer and playing cards. There was no attempt to make them all be guys, and no attempt to identify them as the boys’ camp waiters. But as soon as they started telling old camp stories, the boys camp waiters – including Brian and me – cracked up because we knew where this was going.

And sure enough, once the actors worked their way through some of the familiar camp stories, cleaned up if necessary for the younger kids, and got the usual, expected laughs, they moved on to a story almost no one had heard.

The waiters had actually been fairly quiet about what had happened, mostly for not wanting to embarrass Laura. They wouldn’t have cared about further embarrassing Brian, and he didn’t seem to mind it himself. They kept making jokes among our group, either in the bunk or where it wouldn’t make sense to anyone overhearing. But they kept it private.

This story needed to be cleaned up a bit, too, but only a little. Brian still ended up without his clothes, handcuffed to a tree, out on the scary island in the middle of the night, and when the campers heard this they laughed and clapped, both the girls and boys. They also looked around at the boys’ camp counselors, wondering which one of them it might be. The story hadn’t identified the victim, so all adults were suspect, and the campers first thought of the ones they knew best. Still, with the waiters laughing ourselves silly at the back of the Rec Hall, attention soon focused on us.

And it was clear Brian was the chief suspect, because all the other waiters were looking at him. When the boys picked this up, they started yelling, “Brian! Brian!” and stomping their feet, and the girls soon joined in. So finally, Brian ended up going onto the stage and taking a bow.

The kids whistled and hollered some more, so Brian pulled his T-shirt up just a little, teasing his side. When that got more clapping, he eventually eased it up to mid-chest, and then, finally, he yanked it off, as the music counselor softly began playing strip music. Maybe hearing that, Brian started to dance, some of his usual moves, but at some point he held his arms above him, his wrists together, so there was no mistake he was the center of the story. Even Linden and his wife – who might have worried because there were parents in the Rec Hall who’d come to see their kids in the musical and stayed for Recognition Night – were laughing themselves stupid. And when Brian picked up his shirt, which he’d dropped to the floor, and teased with it – tugging it back and forth behind his head, holding it in front of his chest, tugging it again, behind his rear – and then threw it out to the campers, there were grabs for it, and laughing, and a little scuffle. Linden had to leap on the stage, beside Brian, and blow his whistle to calm everyone down.

That done, Linden insisted that Brian’s shirt be returned, but when it was passed back, it was so stretched out of shape and partly ripped, that Brian couldn’t really wear it again. Still, at Linden’s nod, he put it back on, then modeled the stretched neck and torn seams, getting even more laughs. Finally, Linden pointed him off the stage, and as Brian jumped down and rejoined the waiters, everyone chanted his name again and clapped. Linden had to blow his whistle again and again, to get quiet and continue the show, but after that, the gentle roasting of Linden and his wife seemed pretty lame.

“I didn’t know you could show off like that,” I told Brian, when we were all walking back from the girls’ camp to the Canteen – stopping only so Brian could get another shirt from our bunk.

“Either did I,” he said, grinning. “It’s kind of fun – like dancing, but not just for one person. It’s completely letting go.”

“And without consequences – seeing this is the small world.”

“I don’t know... Wait till one of those kids turns into a CEO I’m trying to get a job from, and they say ‘Hey, aren’t you the guy who...’”

“Still, you took it well.”

“What else was I gonna do?”

“You’re their new rock star,” Nate put in.

“Then I’m glad we’re going home in the morning.”

“We still have breakfast,” Jim reminded us. “They’ll probably want your autograph.”

Brian laughed.

“They should take it as a warning.”

At that point, Laura came up and lightly kissed him. We all stopped walking, and she started to say something. But they both just cracked up, looking at each other. Then they linked arms and walked on ahead.

“I’m glad she also didn’t take it seriously,” Greg said, slipping besides me where Brian had been.

“You never mentioned her.”

“The joke was never about her.”

“But you think people knew?”

“Maybe some. And we really didn’t want her hurt.”

Brian and Laura had seen each other on Monday night. “We kind of each apologized,” he’d told me, “for what we let happen. But I never told her the rest.”

“From when you went for a walk?”

“Yep.”

“She knows now.”

“Most of it – not all the drinking. Only you know about that.” He suddenly laughed. “And there was no make up sex, either, like with Julie. I’d be a darned fool.”

Instead, we all just danced in the Canteen. And because it was the last week of camp, and all the folding chairs and benches had been taken to the girls’ camp, the boys Rec Hall was empty, and the barn doors between it and the Canteen were open. When you added the counselors, waiters, seniors, juniors, and staff from both camps, we needed more space. The drama tech had aimed some colored spotlights into the dark hall, and one of the counselors was acting as DJ, as he had on the night Brian and Laura ended up behind the barn. Except instead of our using our box of old CDs as a mock jukebox, he was mixing new songs. And we just had fun.

Any of us probably could have danced with anyone else, but that was especially true for Brian that night. He danced with a mix of girls but kept coming back to Laura. Maybe out of loyalty. Maybe because – as he kept saying all along – they liked each other – a lot.

“But not enough to be cuffed a tree,” he admitted.