Camp Shoni
by
Pamela
"Camp Dah-nes-tsa, where boys are turned into men," Lorin read the camp motto on the first page of the brochure his mother had handed to him when he came home from school that day. It was January, cold and some snow was in the grass and hedges outside the house where he lived with his mom, dad and older sister Jenny.
The cover of the brochure said "Confederated Camps of Lake Navajo" and underneath:
Camp Dah-nes-tsa, for boys ages 8 - 16
Camp Na-as-tso-si, for overweight girls and boys aged 12 - 16
Camp Ne-Zhoni Ah-tad, for girls aged 8 - 16
In small letters at the bottom of the brochure it said, "The confederated camps of Lake Navajo are owned by Lake Navajo Camps, Inc."
Lorin had been going to camp Dah-nes-tsa, or "Camp Dan" as it was affectionately called by the campers, every year since he was 8. It was a very nice camp. Well, it was the only camp he had known, but he had had fun every summer and he had made some good friends there. Since he had just turned 13 this year he was finally going to be ready for the "upper camp." This was the camp for the older boys. They got to do many more exciting activities than the younger kids including a weekly Saturday evening dance with the girls of camp Ne-Zhoni Ah-tad.
Lorin had many times heard the older boys discuss the different girls at camp "Shoni," as everyone called camp Ne-Zhoni Ah-tad. Camp Shoni had always seemed mysterious to Lorin. The thought of a parallel universe on the opposite shore of lake Navajo filled with girls seemed fantastical. Oftentimes he could see the girls at a distance swimming and boating in the lake. Once he and his canoe mates had paddled to the center of lake Navajo and had encountered several canoes filled with girls. He could never forget how pretty they had seemed to him. Anyway, this year he would finally get to meet them at the dances. It gave him butterflies to even contemplate it. It would take a lot of courage to ask a girl to dance. He hoped there would be some ladies choices and a nice girl would ask him to dance.
Lorin was an attractive boy. His parents allowed him to keep his straight sandy blonde hair long since they were former hippies. There are many pictures in the family album of his dad with long hair in a ponytail, even though he now kept his hair short. Lorin's face was round, his sideburns wispy and he was still quite a ways off from needing to shave. He had a somewhat light bone structure which came with a kind of minimal musculature so that he had never been an outstanding athlete. His good looks pretty much stopped anyone from teasing him about his lack of athletic skill. In any case, he was not a terrible athlete and his social standing among the guys was pretty nice all things considered.
There was one secret Lorin kept from everyone in the world. The truth was he kept his hair long because he liked having that in common with girls. In school or wherever he saw girls he would think, "we've both got long hair, so I guess I'm sort of an honorary girl." He often day dreamed about getting his ears pierced. Long silver earrings would look good when framed by his blonde hair. The fact of the matter was that Lorin absolutely loved girls and everything about them. He secretly watched all that they did at school. How they talked and held their heads. How they walked and laughed. How they took care of their nails and make up. Their hair styles. What kinds of skirts or jeans they wore. How and what kind of barrettes they put in their hair. Their shoes and stockings. The different tops they wore. He most enjoyed the hints of their underwear that he occasionally got a peek at. He was fascinated by the bulging outline of bra straps across the back of a blouse. Penny sitting in front of him in English class was his favorite. She often wore white tops and when she did Lorin could hardly peel his eyes off the delicate outline of her bra running across her back and up to her shoulders. He had studied bras enough to identify the outline of the strap buckles that presumably allowed girls to adjust the length of the shoulder straps. Why this was sometimes in the back and sometimes in the front was a bit of a mystery.
Lorin turned the page of the camp brochure and saw a collection of photos of boys engaged in the various activities of Camp Dan: boating, swimming, playing ball games. He recognized some of the boys including his friend Owen. A hand coming into the picture next to Owen he thought might be his own. Text accompanying the pictures listed the sports and activities. There was even taxidermy, but only one boy had ever taken that all the years Lorin had been attending the camp. It was a boy named Peter who the guys thought was a bit batty. Somewhat ironically, Peter had ended up accidentally killing a bat and then stuffing it. Lorin especially liked reading the affirmation that "boys in the upper camp (Ages 14 - 16) can participate in a Saturday night dance with the girls of Camp Ne-Zhoni Ah-tad."
Lorin froze. There must be a typo he said to himself. Ages 14 - 16? It was always ages 13 - 16. He ran downstairs to his mom and said, "did you see this mom. There must be an error. It says the upper camp is from ages 14 - 16!"
"I'm sorry Lorin," his mom said looking at him sympathetically. "There was a cover letter with the brochure saying they had decided to limit the upper camp to 14 - 16 starting this summer. Its because they had some problems last year with the younger boys at the dances. They were horsing around and the girls camp decided that enough was enough or something like that."
"But mom that's ridiculous!"
"I know that you're very mature but there is nothing that we can do about it. It won't be as bad as you think. You always have so much fun."
Choking up with grief, Lorin turned and walked slowly back to his room. He sat down on his bed in abject depression. This really, really sucks, he thought to himself. A whole other year and a half practically he'd have to wait. Fighting the urge to cry, he picked up the brochure and continued reading. On the next page there was a description of the weight watching camp. The kids in these pictures were invariably smiling. There was an extensive description of the diet and exercise regimes in a "supportive environment." It was foreign territory for Lorin. He figured that at least being overweight gave one the advantage of going to a co-ed camp. Its probably why everyone was smiling.
Turning to the description of camp Shoni, Lorin skipped the further description of camp Na-as-tso-si, that his friends called Camp Nasty. The first page for camp Ne-Zhoni Ah-tad had a slogan like that for the boys camp: "where girls learn to become women." The list of activities included many of the same sports as in camp Dan, but there was also many more crafts such as basket weaving, embroidery, dress making, cooking and "salon skills." There were pictures of the girls swimming, playing volley ball and hiking through a forest holding hands and smiling. Most of the girls were pretty. Some looked very athletic. The girls were mostly wearing T shirts loosely framing their figures. Some of the girls looked to be busty but it was not particularly evident.
It was so incredibly unfair to keep him in the lower camp. All last summer he had been giddy with the idea that finally, next summer, he was going to be going to the dances. He had spent many a night imagining his first visit to the girls camp. To be able to dance a slow dance with one of the girls would be heavenly. To smell her perfume, to feel her hair on his cheek and to be touching her pretty dress. Feeling the urge to cry again, he turned the page and let out a small gasp of astonishment. There was a picture of the entire upper girls camp "dressed for the camp ending cotillion," on the last Saturday night of the summer. There was almost a 100 girls in the color photo, some seated in front, others standing behind them wearing the most beautiful assortment of dresses Lorin had ever seen. Many puffed out from the hips held out by crinolines and petticoats. The girls looked like they had been to the beauty parlor. They had the prettiest hairstyles and the most tasteful makeup. The palpable aura of massed femininity was so intense that Lorin felt a deep stab of envy. He wanted to be a part of the picture in the worst way. To be one of the girls standing there arm in arm in a pretty dress, wearing a little locket around his neck like so many of the girls in the picture. It was too much to bear. He felt a raw pain in his chest. Not only did he have no chance of being one of the girls, he would not even be able to dance with them this summer.
He thought of praying to God to make it happen somehow. He starred closely at the picture and looked into the eyes of each of the girls, one by one. He noticed that for two of the seated girls he could see a hint of lacy crinoline peeking out from their skirts. He looked at the entire row of pretty stockinged legs and admired them. At least God, could you at least make it so that somehow I get to see the the girls on the night of the cotillion? Could I just even be able to see them? That is not asking too much is it? He imagined what it would be like to dance with one of the girls. The swish of her dress against him as he held her and she held him. Maybe that was OK, but if by some miracle God could let me be one of the girls, he would never ask God for anything else again.
Lorin was taken out of his reverie by the sound of his mom. "Are you done looking at the camp brochure?"
"Yes mom," he said ruefully.
"I need you to complete the application. It asks you to check off your five favorite activities and to write a sentence or two about what your interests are. We've got to get it in the mail in the next day or two to make sure you get in. If you don't it could give us a big headache with our trip." Lorin's mom, dad and sister were traveling to Japan and China for the summer while his dad conducted some business. Lorin had wanted to go also, but his dad nixed the idea. "You're a picky eater and we'd have a hard time feeding you!" Lorin's dad was big time into Sushi. The thought of finally being in the upper camp had quelled any regret that Lorin had had at being excluded from the family trip.
"OK, mom. But are you sure I can't go to Japan and China with you and dad? I promise I'll eat everything you place in front of me."
His mom laughed. "Sorry honey. You'll have so much more fun at camp Dan than you'll have traipsing around with us."
"Not in the lower camp!"
"Please honey. You know there is nothing we can do about it, and I'm just as disappointed as you."
"OK mom. I'll fill out the form for camp disappointment!"
"Very funny. I've left an envelope on the dining room table with the deposit check. When you're done with the application put it in the envelope and put it in the mail box on your way to school tomorrow morning."
"OK, mom," Lorin said.
"Don't forget!"
"I won't."
That night before going to sleep Lorin took out the brochure and turned to the picture of the girls dressed for the cotillion. The dresses were in every color including white, ivory, peach, pale blue, pale pink and with every kind of lace decoration imaginable. He studied the two girls whose petticoats he could see. Their stocking legs were surrounded by the delicate lace netting that puffed up over their laps.
"Why can't that be me God?" Lorin prayed. "If you just made me a girl for the summer I'd be so grateful!"
He felt misty eyed and then scolded himself for being self-piteous. "I'm such a moron. Its just a dress." He lay awake for an hour pretending he was in camp Shoni. It was the week before the big cotillion. The girls were excited about getting their dresses ready. He had his dress hanging on a hook next to his bunk. It smelled faintly of perfume, like the way Penny sometimes smelled. He fell asleep.
Awakening in the morning Lorin pantomimed putting on a dress and crinoline. Half way through, he stopped to start all over again, this time first putting on an imaginary bra, panty and stockings. He had never worn a bra or even touched one but he had thought about them and studied them enough, mainly from the "One Hanes Place" catalog that came every month or two for his mom. Probably a hundred different bras were displayed in every issue, and he enjoyed studying them, usually during the afternoons when he was the first one home and had gotten the mail. Often he knew he had an hour or two until his sister or mom came home, and in that time he could sit in the living room and admire the pictures of the ladies. He loved the fact they were always smiling. There must be something about wearing a bra that makes girls smile, he thought. A favorite game of his was to imagine what would have been going on in the minute or two before the pictures were shot. Part of this was thinking about how the model would be putting on her bra, and from this Lorin felt that if the opportunity ever arose, he would know what to do. The fantasy intensified when he imagined that he had breasts that awaited the bra. How big should they be he wondered. He broke out into a sweat and he felt his heart racing. I must be going straight to hell he told himself.
As he often did in moments of frustration he recalled the glance he had once gotten up the short sleeve of Penny's white blouse. Her bra had been remarkably white against her skin and he had not thought such white was possible. If he ever wore a bra he'd have to check that out. How white would it look against his skin?
He got dressed and went to the breakfast table. His mom was just leaving for work. "Did you fill out the application like I asked?"
"Yes mom," he lied.
"I know you're lying. Don't dawdle with it!"
"I fell asleep last night. I did start it. Don't worry I'll get it in the mail today."
"This morning."
"This morning."
She left for work. Lorin had a half hour before he would have to leave for school. He sat down at the dining room table with the application in front of him. In the upper right-hand corner there was a box listing the three camps and his mom had checked the box next to camp Dah-nes-tsa. After this was the usual information, his name printed carefully "LORIN BAXTER", his address and the family phone number. His mom had checked a box saying "returning camper" and underneath this she had written "5" in a space for the number of previous years. She had written in the name and phone number of their family doctor and the name of the school he attended. He found the deposit check. It was made out to "Lake Navajo Camps, Inc." Next on the application was a space in which his mom had written in his birthday. She had also checked a box saying "lower camp". In small print in parenthesis it said "8 - 12 for the girls in camp Ne-Zhoni Ah-tad and 8 - 13 for the boys in camp Dah-nes-tsa." Rats! he said to himself. He put down the application and once again flipped open the brochure to the picture of the girls in their pretty dresses. "God, can't you make me a girl so I can wear a dress like that and have these girls as my friends?" Lorin waited and nothing happened. Miracles never happen. Thats for sure. He remembered after his grandpa died how much he prayed he would come back and he never did. "How about it God if you just let me go to Camp Shoni?" He laughed at the thought of being the only boy at the camp. It was getting late and he would have to go to school. Suddenly he tensed up and a jolt of electricity went through his stomach and into his heart. Why can't I go to Camp Shoni, he thought? I'd just have to pretend to be a girl. I could be one if I wanted to. A thousand thoughts darted through his mind. Its such a great idea. Its so easy. No one would ever find out. He got a clear vision of himself pretending to be one of the girls in camp Shoni. What a joy it would be!
Then suddenly he groaned with the realization that the idea was fundamentally flawed. How dumb can I be! What about parents day when the camps are opened for parental visits? Mom and Dad come every year and what a shock it will be if they find out that I'm not at camp Dan. But just as fast he broke into a smile. Mom and dad will be in Japan! They can't come to visit!
Excitedly he looked at the application form again. With a sense of mounting tension he noted that his mother had used a pencil to check off the camp he was to go to. He got up and found a pencil and sat down again in front of the application. The eraser was new and clean. With trembling hands and racing heart he rubbed out the check mark next to Camp Dah-nes-tsa, turned the pencil around and checked the box next to Camp Ne-Zhoni Ah-tad. He went to where his name was printed. It was in ink! Damn! His mom must have switched to a pen after checking the first box, which was the only thing written in pencil. He starred at his name "LORIN". He was named after the great conductor Lorin Maazel whom his parents had heard conduct the Cleveland Orchestra in Stravinsky's Rite of Spring. They were fond of telling the story of how the evening had been a revelation for them as to how wonderful music could be. And when Lorin was born a short time afterward they felt that naming him Lorin was the least they could do to honor the beauty that Maazel brought to the earth.
Lorin got up and found a pen with black ink. He noticed that there was a slight gap between the "O" and "N" in "LORIN". He carefully added a stroke turning the "O" into a large lower case "a" and then placed a thin "U" between the "a" and the "N". He also turned the "I" into a capitol "E". The result was "LaUREN BAXTER." This spelling of Lauren as in Lauren Bacall had long been the name he had given to himself in his fantasies. He considered it providential that the sound of his name was appropriate to both girls and boys. It was just one more thing that made him feel like he was close to the opposite sex. He had even once kept a secret diary in which he signed the entrees as "Lauren" but had been so scared that his parents or someone else might find it that he had ripped it up and thrown it away.
The only thing left to fix on the application was the information about being a returning camper. This will be hard to correct. It was getting late. He did not have time to think of something. He scribbled on top of the "5" so it was illegible and then put a large "X in the box for new camper and scribbled lightly over the "x" his mother had written in the box indicating a returning camper. He looked at the result. It looked pretty weird, like how could someone make a mistake about whether they were a returning camper or not? It would have to suffice however.
Quickly he turned to the part of the application his mom wanted him to fill out. Under activities was a list of items, such as swimming, archery and so forth and the instructions were to check ones favorite five. He checked "arts and crafts", "dress making", and "theater" and then decided he had better put down a couple of more athletic activities, so he also checked "swimming" and "dance". In years past he had always put down "riflery" but it didn't seem like something that Lauren would like. The last thing was to write a few lines about himself. He could not think of anything. In years past he had said that he liked doing things like white water rafting, but that had never been an activity for the lower camp. Only the boys in the upper camp took an overnight canoing trip each year. I've got to just stick something there. He wrote in a swirly handwriting that was like Penny's: "I've alway liked fashion and I can't wait to see the pretty dresses at the Cotillion this year. I'm looking forward to making new friends with some nice girls." He read it back to himself and groaned. God does that sound stupid! He glanced up at the wall clock. I'm outta here! He put the application and check in the envelope his mom had left and sealed it. He ran around collecting his books and lunch and raced out of the house locking the door behind him.
Clutching the camp letter in his gloved hand, Lorin walked quickly down the block toward school. He knew there was a mail box on his route, two blocks away, and when he got to it he stopped in front of it. His misgivings about what he was doing had grown with each step he had taken. The more he thought about what he was about to do, the more guilty he felt about his deceitfulness. He hesitated in front of the box not knowing what to do. It was way too risky. It was crazy even. His parents would find out and how could he ever explain what he had done? They'll send me to a psychiatrist. He trembled at the thought of his dad knowing he wanted to pretend to be a girl. I can just rip open the envelope and change the application back to being correct. It would be messy, but it would still be OK. He resumed walking toward school. He had gotten just a few steps when he remembered the picture of the girls at the Cotillion and he stopped. I can't miss that, I want it so bad! What is really not fair is that Camp Dan won't let me be in the upper camp. I can just say that I had to go to camp Shoni because it was not fair otherwise!
Lorin took a step back toward the mail box and then stopped again. God, help me. I just want to go to the Cotillion. Is that bad? Trapped in indecision, it finally occurred to him that if he did not mail the letter, he would have to face the agony of regretting that he had given up this opportunity to be Lauren. However much guilt he would feel for having done this, it would not be as bad as the pain he would feel for not having tried to be her. He ran back to the mail box, opened the lid and let the letter slip from his fingers. The moment it fell in he felt a wave of fear at the enormity of what he had done. He walked away in a state of shock. What in the world have I done? How can I get so obsessed? What happens if Camp Shoni is full? Being a new camper I will be put behind returning campers. I could end up not having a camp to go to. It would ruin my parents' trip to Asia, besides the fact that they would find out that I had tried to sneak myself into a girls camp. What an idiot I am, he thought. The anxiety he felt was close to becoming unmanageable. Maybe I should just confess what I've done. There is still time to get a new application for camp Dan. He could send it to the camp with a note explaining that the other application was a joke. He could say that a friend of his had done it as a practical joke. He'd also have to tell his parents about the same lie. It would be impossible to convince them of that. He heard his name being called and looked up. It was his best friend Kenny coming toward him. This was going to be the fist secret he had ever kept from Kenny except for his big secret, of course. Uneasily, he decided to just try and forget what he had done. He would deal with it later. The die had been cast. He would have to wait and see if he got accepted at Camp Shoni. If he did, who knows, he might just end up at the cotillion wearing a pretty dress.
End of Chapter 1
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