"CAMP REDWOOD"
AKA; CAMP REDWOOD PT. 3

"You guys, I think we were supposed to turn back there." Chet stated, trying his best to smooth out the map he'd retrieved from the glovebox.

I didn't know why, considering Xavier hadn't followed a single direction- It felt like we'd be lucky if we ever made it to camp.

"Nah, that was a side road. Leads to the same place. This way is much faster." Xavier reassured, a gentle smirk quirking his face as he gave us all a wave of his hand.

"You've never been here before, how do you know?" Montana inquired, her face scrunched in annoyance at the boy's inabilities to follow directions.

He only adjusted his sunglasses, "Instincts, baby."

I rolled my eyes, as I watched the two boys in the front seats try to light their bong.

Slouching in my seat and playing with one of my overall straps absentmindedly, I said, "We should've asked at the last stop. That attendant seemed to know we were headed at least."

Brooke exhaled at the memory and I averted my attention to her, "Why was that guy saying all of that creepy st... Look out!" She interrupted herself, pointing out the front window.

My head whipped in the direction she pointed, seeing a man in the road for a split second before the truck seemed to send him flying. My eyes widened, and my body leaned forward harshly as a result of Xavier hitting the breaks. The tires screeched against the pavement, and the van eventually came to a complete stop, the group briskly stumbling out of the van the second it was shifted into park.

"Did we hit him?" Brooke questioned frantically, being the first to reach the unknown man lying on the side of the road.

"No. I-I don't think so." The blonde stuttered, his lips pressing into a line.

I crouched down next to his head, putting one of my hands on the man's shoulder and sharing a quick glance with Chet and Ray, "You okay?" I attempted to ask, but he appeared unresponsive.

"Just keep your head back and relax." Ray tried, still receiving no response. I felt relieved we at least had a little bit of Ray's training to help, "We need to keep him warm." The dark skinned boy informed.

Brooke sprung up and bobbed her head a mile a minute, "I'll go get a blanket!" She shouted, running towards the van.

When I looked back down, I noticed the man's eyes had opened, and he was somewhat alert, "What's your name?" Montana asked.

"I can't remember I-" He replied before trying to sit up from his position, screaming in pain.

Panicked, we all readjusted him so he was laying back on the ground. "No, no, no, no! Don't move!" Chet told him, looking to Brooke as she arrived with the blanket.

I helped her drape the charcoal fabric over his legs and bit my lip with worry.

Xavier squatted next to Brooke, picking up the man's arm and turning it over in inspection, "No -look at his cuts. The dried blood. He didn't just get those injuries, he's been out here a long time." He told us, albeit it sounded more like he was saying it to himself.

My nose crinkled, "That's what you care about?"

"Look it doesn't matter. We're in the middle of nowhere. We can't just leave him here." Chet stated, and the rest of us except Xavier nodded our heads in aggreance.

"We'll take him back to the camp with us- but let's get our stories straight. We didn't hit him." He reminded us, and at that point we just agreed. It was probably better we didn't get busted for hitting a man anyway, especially when half of us were high.

Ray pushed his hand under the man's shoulder and lifted, "Let's just get him up, huh?"

Joining in with Ray, we tried to navigate the best way to lift the man off the concrete, but we didn't make it far before he clutched my wrist. I flinched, wincing as his grip tightened so much that his knuckles began to turn white.

"You got to believe me-" He cried, not letting up, "I tried.."

"Okay. It's okay." I breathed, meeting his gaze. He took a deep breath and finally released my arm.

I retracted immediately and clutched it to my chest, a little shaken from the interaction. He seemed pretty terrified. I felt a hand lie on my shoulder, thumb rubbing little circles on my bare skin, not surprised to see Chet trying to assure I was okay. I just nodded.

The summer wasn't off to the best start.

✗✗✗

Brooke and I sat in the back seat, attending to the man with Ray's directions. I glanced out the window to see we had finally reached the camp we'd been driving all day to, and felt a little weight relieve from my shoulders- Once we got the guy to the infirmary, we were free to have our summer back.

The car stopped, and I followed my friends out, leaving Brooke behind with the man. When I stepped on the gravel of the pathway, I took note of a woman chopping wood, most likely awaiting our arrival.

She smiled when she was us, and put down her axe to greet, "Welcome to Camp Redwood. I'm Margaret Booth. I'm the owner." She informed.

"Boss lady chopping her own wood. Choice." Montana smirked, and I bobbed my head in agreement; Margaret seemed pretty cool so far.

"Well, we'll all have to wear multiple hats. We are short-staffed, and the kids arrive in the morning." Margaret said.

"Wait, are we the only counselors?" I inquired, a little concerned at the idea. There were only six of us, and who knew how many kids were on their way.

I'd never been good with kids, and had honestly planned to slack the whole summer. Having to be responsible for so many children? The thought was overwhelming.

"Well," The blonde woman began, "The Olympics create thousands of temporary jobs, and my pool of potential employees was limited." She sighed.

Brooke poked her head out of the open door, "Is there a medic or a nurse here? We have a situation!" She reminded us.

Margaret's eyes widened, and she padded over to the van to see the man lying in the back. "What happened to him?" She expressed, concern lacing her words effortlessly.

Xavier's brows furrowed, "Uh, he was by the side of the road. He was already messed up."

She looked at him funny, and glanced between the rest of us before refocusing on the man in the back, "Okay, well, let's get him to the infirmary."

✗✗✗

"You say you found him in the middle of the road?" Nurse Rita questioned once we hauled the man into the medical cabin.

"He was by the side of the road." Xavier corrected. I think the rest of us had all silently agreed to let him do the talking, "He's been pretty out of it, saying weird things, not making much sense."

"He's severely dehydrated." The brunette woman said, checking vitals, or at least that's what I assumed she was doing. "Probably went for a hike and got lost. Couldn't find his way back. Panicked. People don't realize just how deep these woods are. Hikers get lost in them every year. End up dead of hypothermia or falling into a ravine or just disappearing altogether. He's lucky you found him." She rambled, though I zoned out at some point- I didn't have the best attention span.

"Is he gonna die?" Brooke worried. I felt for her. The last twenty four hours had just been event after event and I was sure she was getting tired of it.

Rita smiled at her reassuringly, "Not on my watch. Don't worry, I work in the E.R. at Hawthorne Hospital the rest of the year."

I took a deep breath, the best of the pressure in my chest dissolving. The hiker was in good hands as far as we knew and it's not there was much we could do now.

"Why don't we give our nurse a little space." Margaret suggested, leading us out of the aid cabin and gesturing towards a path, "Come on. I can show you all a tour of the camp."

She led us down the gravel, a clearing in the trees revealing a lake. I stared around the blue water, smiling at the idea of going swimming at some point.

"We have canoes and rowboats." She started, explaining the ins and outs of Camp Redwood. I looked over to see the boats she was referring to. "All children must have a buddy to go into the water. The lake is allegedly bottomless, and drowning is the number one cause of death for U.S. campers." She warned, and my body shuttered a little at the idea.

"What's second?" Xavier inquired playfully, though Margaret was unamused, and chose to ignore him.

Next she took us to the mess hall, where a truck was parked, men carrying boxes out of the back. A plump woman leaned against the side, a cigarette tucked between her lips and eyes lighting as she noticed us nearing.

"And this is Chef Bertie, a Camp Redwood veteran." Margaret introduced.

"Dibs." I heard the blond boy mutter, eliciting an eye-roll from almost all of us.

"You wouldn't know what to do with it if you got it, handsome." Bertie retaliated. I giggled, knowing I wasn't the only one laughing.

Xavier's face dropped, clearly taken aback by the quip, and partially annoyed by how much the rest of us enjoyed it.

Chet looked towards me, nudging my shoulder a bit with his, "Sorry Baby Banks, I don't think she cooks gourmet." He teased.

Rolling my eyes, I grinned a bit and grabbed a crate from the back of truck, "Whatever."

"Put those scrawny arms to work and help a lady fill her pantry. All of you, grab a crate! This heat is a killer." The chef sighed, exhaling some of the smoke out of her mouth.

I handed my box off to Ray, as he and Chet headed towards the cafeteria kitchen to drop off the crates.

"Chef Bertie worked here when I was a counselor. We are so blessed to have her with us." Margaret explained, beaming at the older woman. I smiled too, a little warmed at the idea.

"I have many good memories of this place. It's magic up here in the fresh air. I'm sorry that one bad apple ruined it for everyone." Bertie started, eliciting a frown from me- bad apple?- "The minute I heard Margaret was reopening this place, I was first to volunteer."

Next was the counsellors area to finish off Margaret's grand tour of Camp. She showed us through the showers. I cringed at the sight, used to the white tiled, triple knob plumbing back at my apartment- Maybe I deserved all the teasing about growing up rich.

"Girls shower in the a.m., boys in the p.m. Same goes for counselors, too." The woman informed, leading us to the cabins next. "This is the girls' cabin." She said, walking us through the wood room before heading down a shorter path to another building, "And this is the boys' cabin. Girls are red. Boys are blue. Don't even try to make purple." She finished her tour, stopping on the porch of the boys' cabin and turning to face us.

I felt Chet's finger run a line down the back of my arm, as he stood behind me. "You expect us to be celibate all summer?" He quirked.

I scrunched my nose and pulled away my arm so I could use it to smack his shoulder playfully, "Stop it!" I hissed, shoving him forward to stand next to Brooke instead.

Clearly annoyed, and not oblivious to my reaction, Margaret continued, "Well, I'm not banning self-abuse. Although every stroke soils your soul- But, how could I ever enforce it?"

"It's 1984, Margaret." Xavier started as I leaned against the wood of the cabin behind me, crossing my arms, "They're building co-ed showers in the West Hollywood gym. You ever hear of the sexual revolution? sex won." He told her.

As much as I didn't want to piss off our new boss, I knew Xavier was right. I myself had indulged in the next standards, and the memories of my old job came back into my mind.

"I am aware of the decadence of our era. Women's underwear that shows the buttocks." She glanced at me, and I was a little offended. Though I didn't detest the underwear, I personally wasn't a fan, "Pornography in your own home. Van Halen." She looked to Montana this time, and I was a little relieved not to have the heat on me.

"I have been fighting the Lord's fight against filth around the world for years. Charles Keating is a dear friend, and I was right by his side in Cincinnati during that Larry Flynt trial. And that is why, while still grieving my sweet husband Walter's untimely death, I took a small portion of the large fortune he left to me to buy this camp. I want to create a safe, pure, godly and decent place for the children of this country to escape for the summer. It is a dream come true. Now, there aren't many rules, but I expect every one of you to follow them without exception." She finalized, finishing her stern speech and stepping away from us, down another trail.

Chet turned backward, looking to me
for help, "Who's Charles Keating?"

an
i don't normally write in first person, but i think i'm doing well! it's definitely different but i want the practice.