The following story is fictional, any resemblance to events or persons is unintentional.
© 2001 by Rei McCall, All rights reserved.

 

One Summer in Heaven or Hell                 by : Rei McCall

 

PART THREE: DEN OF WOLVES

I really wished someone had bothered to put up signs, pointing out WHERE exactly the damn cabins were. Like an idiot, I thought that the buildings closest to the lodge (the ones I could actually see from the so-called parking lot) would be the obvious choice for the cabins, but after nearly half an hour of lugging my bags around, between, and through everything within sight, I realized that it was obviously stupid to put the cabins in plain sight and hide the art building, the woodshop building, the sports storage room, the rec room, the counselor’s lounge, the band room, the boathouse, and three locked buildings.

I sat on my suitcase and took a short break on the far edge of the camp. That was a hell of a walk, especially when you were going around every single building, and carrying luggage.

On the other side of the collected buildings, guys were starting to emerge out of paths leading into the woods. I suppose, had I been as smart as I thought I was, I could’ve just followed everyone else to the cabins, or just asked for directions. At the very least, you’d think I’d be tipped off by the fact that no one else was hanging around the network of buildings I’d been wandering through.

Great way to start the summer: First I get shipped off to some psycho camp by my parents to have a real man made out of me, and now I feel like a complete moron for not just stopping to ask for directions… Erk! The camp was already starting to work!

After a few more calming breaths, I stood up, threw on my backpack, and hefted my suitcase AGAIN. It was about three now, so if I started walking, I could probably find my own bed before nightfall.

Admittedly, I found the cabin before nightfall. Before dinner, even. Whatever sadistic bastard had decided to half-hide the lodge partially in the woods had obviously just been using that design as a prototype for the whole cabin scheme. They almost looked liked bunkers, but they were made from wood, with screened windows set high on the walls. Each one had been stuffed back into the woods, along a dizzy little network of well-worn dirt trails, and nestled on small rises or in little nooks between mounds and boulders. I found it just a little odd that a place that housed questionably violent young men would hide their rooms away like this, or arrange it so that you couldn’t see any of the other cabins if you were standing in the doorway of one. They were spaced out fairly well… lots of room to explore or wander in the light, New England woods. I’d even bet that if you screamed for help inside one cabin, nobody else would ever hear you.

Maybe I should head back to the highway and start walking now. How far could the nearest town really be?

A thought dawned on me and I grabbed the camper handbook out of my backpack after setting my suitcase on the concrete front step of Cabin Four (with a fairly nice wood-cut of a black bear hanging under the sign). Right inside the cover was a little map of the camp, showing exactly where the cabins were, as well as how to navigate this rat’s maze of nature trails the book lovingly referred to as ‘The Upstairs Hall’. "Well, don’t I seem the idiot?"

I scanned through the first few pages of the handbook until something finally caught my eye. The nearest city was Parkins, about 25 miles away. Average foot speed for a person is four miles per hour, though my suitcase would probably slow me down to three… so a little over eight hours on the road. If I left now, I could get to Parkins just in time to be picked up by the local sheriff for loitering or breaking curfew. Lovely. The handbook didn’t even bother to give a map or mention whether Parkins was north or south along the highway, so picking the wrong direction would mean an even longer walk before re-emerging into what passed for civilization.

I was going to have to remember to send Dad a very special Father’s Day present this year. I pondered for a moment if the camp would have everything I’d need for a letter bomb.

I finally growled a little, hefted my suitcase one last time, and opened the weather-beaten screen door wide. Inside looked like… well, it looked like a camp cabin. It was just like what you saw on every T.V. show or movie about summer camp. Wooden floors, wooden walls, wooden beams instead of a ceiling, with the bottom of the roof about eight feet above me. The walls had a few band and movie posters… Men in Black, Indiana Jones, Lion King, Cassablanca, Duck Soup, Metallica, Cherry Poppin’ Daddies, Rolling Stones, and something called NERV (probably another band, I finally decided). The only real furniture were five bunk beds, all of which sat bare with their pillows and bedding folded neatly in the center and, in most cases, with someone’s suitcase, gym bag, or backpack tossed carelessly on top. Apparently I was the last one to get here. Each bed also had a large dresser next to it. The entire place was eerily quiet, save for the faint sound of wind filtering through the screens on the door and windows, and had the impossible scent of fresh air and old wood mingling with disinfectant and the lightest hint of sweat. Actually, it was kind of a nice smell, when I thought about it.

I took a few steps towards the center of the room, floorboards squeaking a little beneath me, and set my suitcase down. There was a door on the opposite end of the cabin from the entrance, and half-hidden in the middle of one wall was a small, stone fireplace. I poked my head through the side door and saw two urinals, a toilet stall, a shower stall, and a counter with three sinks.

I sighed a little in relief as I realized I wouldn’t have to take public showers with four or eight jerks, male or otherwise.

I came back out and surveyed the area. Seven of the ten total beds had apparently been claimed. The best of what was left was a top bunk, hidden off in the far corner of the cabin (or as hidden as a corner could get in this kind of setup). Correction, the top bunk in the far corner, with the mattress from a lower bunk next to the door. The original mattress had an unidentifiable stain and a smell that, for some reason, brought to mind images of raccoons getting kinky with whips and chains. I got the bunk finally set up to the best of my liking and began making the bed.

Ideally, I wouldn’t be cornered like a rat while I slept. Common sense and experience both told me that. Still, being on top and off to the side meant being less noticeable most of the time. Plus, half the bed being butted against walls meant only half as many people could surround me in my sleep. Finally, if worse came to worse, the rafters were only three feet above the top bunk; I could crawl onto those and make a dash for the door. Besides, sleeping on the bottom bunk next to the door just seemed like too obvious a setup, and the springs on the remaining bunk were warped and uncomfortable. It was this or nothing, really, unless I wanted to challenge one of seven alpha-males for their territory… The idea was actually amusing, for all of half a second.

It suddenly dawned on me, as I broke open my suitcase, that I hadn’t brought nearly enough clothing. My parents had told me to pack for a short trip, so I was expecting no more than a week. If I really stretched it out between washings (probably not something I’d want to do in a place where I’d be outside and sweating every day) I might be able to go nine or ten days before I needed to wash everything. Then one of those wonderful, panic-inducing thoughts I had far too often entered my head: My pills! My androgen blockers were prescription, so my parents would probably mail me a refill at the end of the month, but they didn’t know about the birth control pills. All I had was the half a pack buried in my suitcase; the next three months’ worth were hidden back home, taped to the inside of my computer housing.

"Shit!" I began a steady pace of banging my head against the wooden bedframe. If I couldn’t figure something out, then in a little over two weeks, my development would be completely paused for the rest of the summer.

"Don’t like the decor?" I snapped up and twisted my head almost a full 180 degrees… Oooo, I was gonna be feeling that in about twenty seconds. Standing about four feet behind me was the boy I’d talked with about the food earlier.

"Oh…. Um," I just kind of stammered and stared for a moment. It’s not like I could tell him why exactly I was hammering my head against a hard surface, and not being able to remember his name just made me feel more awkward.

He just pushed his glasses up and smiled. "Chris, right?" I just nodded dumbly, or at least, I nodded as best I could when my neck was twisted farther than humanly possible. He flashed that stupidly huge kind of grin that only geeks could manage (or appreciate) and continued, "Angus was shitting himself when you never showed up. He thought you were already on the highway, walking for town. So, did you need some time alone to think, or did you just get lost."

"Um… both," I lied. I’d actually been too preoccupied with being lost to think about anything, but I’m sure it would’ve occurred to me to panic over my situation otherwise… like now. "Sorry."

"Hey, you don’t need to apologize to me. I’m just a fellow underling." He seemed amazingly friendly and talkative for a geek. "You might want to let Angus know you’re here, though, before he gives birth to another litter of bricks."

I blushed. God, right now the last thing I wanted to do was talk with what was quite possibly the hottest guy to ever actually speak to me without using the words ‘geek’, ‘sissy’, or ‘beat’. "So… um, what’s going on?" Sure, it was pathetic, but at least it was an attempt at conversation. That would make me seem likeable and friendly, right?

"Not much. We just finished the standard ‘get to know your bunkmates’ spiel." He actually sounded like a radio announcer when he got to the title. "You really missed out on some fun there. Oh yeah. Seriously." Gee, I didn’t hear any sarcasm. "Anyway, right now we’re supposed to be back in the lodge, getting a lecture on what we’re going to be doing for the summer. Since I had to sit through it last year, Angus was merciful and let me come back here to chill."

I had hopped up on my new bed… hehe, weird to actually think of this little cot as ‘my’ home for the next two months. Anyway, the boy could talk, so I figured it would be better to get comfortable.

"When they’re done, everyone gets sent back to their cabins to unpack and rest until dinner. I suppose, if you wanted, you could run up to the Lodge and find Angus and everyone…" he sort of trailed of and looked at me expectantly.

"Er, that’s alright." I wasn’t entirely sure I could navigate through that mind-fuck loosely veiled as a nature trail. "They’ll all be coming back here soon, right?" I shuddered slightly at the thought.

I guess he caught it, because the next thing out of his mouth was, "Hey, don’t worry too much. Sure, you might not want to be here, and believe me I understand that, but it’s not so bad once you get used to it. And don’t worry about the other guys; Sure most of them start out either really rough or really withdrawn, but nothing will happen to you. Angus is like a brown belt, same with a bunch of the counselors and some of the senior campers. They look out for us."

I strained to at least get my eyelids and brows back down to a level that just seemed unholy, after their little trek up my forehead. Brown belt meant it would just be a lot easier for them to beat the living crap out of me.

"Lemme guess: You’re used to being prey, and you’re terrified that some of these guys are going to kill and eat you within two weeks’ time, right?" He was gooooooooood, and yes, I mean with that many ‘o’s. "I was the same way. Major little introvert. I wouldn’t talk to people, and got beaten up constantly at school, or ended up getting dumped in a trash can or the toilet." I nodded along. Those things had all happened to me, up until I’d gotten fast enough to outrun everyone and sharp enough to not let them sneak up behind me. "That’s why my parents sent me here last summer. They had sent me to a therapist, but that didn’t help much because I wasn’t depressed or crazy or anything, so they sent me here as sort of a last resort."

My morbid curiosity was peeked. "What happened?" It was the same urge that made you stare at a dead cat or a train wreck, even though you wanted to look away.

"This!" He went into a few mock-poses, showing off how incredibly un-studly he was as I broke down laughing. After a few minutes, I was at the point where I either had to calm down, or choke to death on my own uvula. I finally calmed down to a reasonable level, wiped some tears out of my eyes, and sat back up. I never understood why it was so much easier to laugh yourself sick when you were on the edge, but at the moment, I was kind of thankful. "Anyway," he continued, trying to look irritated and failing miserably. "I was scared of my own shadow for a while, and yeah, I did get picked on some by some jerks, but Angus, he was a senior camper back then, not a counselor, he and a few other guys kept an eye on me and most of the other geeks, and one night, they had this ‘talk’," he said it in a tone that implied that talking hadn’t been the central part of it, "with one of the worst guys, Allen, who’d been threatening a few kids and had actually beaten one guy up."

I guess I looked kind of incredulous, because he just nodded sharply and said, "It’s true! After that, I started actually looking around, and I realized that most of the guys here were pretty cool, and the jerks that had been pushing me around were a real minority, and even they were starting to get better."

"Wow," was the best I could managed.

"Yeah. After that, I wasn’t so afraid anymore, and I started getting involved with things and talking to some of the other guys, especially Angus. I didn’t have to worry so much about everyone thinking I was a geek or a nerd, or that they’d hate me because I was different, and I just started to loosen up and eventually went down to the medical cabin to get that stick yanked out of my ass. When I went back to school last year, everyone was going nuts about how much ‘cooler’ I was, even though I had the same dumb glasses and haircut I had the year before. It was kind of cool because people really treated me a lot differently, especially the ladies." His voice dropped four octaves for those last three words as his eyebrows arched and his hands made a ‘smooth’ gesture.

I couldn’t help it, I had to burst out laughing again. Actually, I had kind of controlled it this time, so it just came out as a giggling fit. I guess I could kind of see that: Sure, he was a geek, anyone could see that, but he really had a personality you could love, and he was really non-threatening. Hell, I don’t think I’d really mind-

SHIT! I was doing it again! And I’d been giggling! I was getting way to comfortable around this guy and loosening up too much. Maybe they wouldn’t think a geek was worth beating up, but even a geek could make fun of a boy who acted like a girl.

Besides, I already had apparently developed a crush on my counselor, I sure as hell didn’t need to start rating my bunkmates.

Only two months. I sighed to myself and fell over onto *cough* my bed.

"Hey, uh… you okay?" He sounded genuinely concerned as he came a little closer and peered at me with one eye open a little wider. I just pulled the pillow over my face and debated smothering myself to death with it.

"Alright, none of that stuff!" He yanked the pillow out of my hands, thereby removing my one immediately available shot at escape. Ratbastard.

"I just don’t think I can do this," I admitted before I even really realized it. One of these days, I was going to learn when to keep my damn mouth shut.

"Hey, don’t worry so much. Everything seems overwhelming the first day." He was right; I remember the first day I got my period a month and a half ago, or at least what passed for a period in my screwed up little medicated body. "Besides, you’ve got me to keep an eye on you!" And then he switched to a bad Mafioso accent, "An’ if anybody gives you trouble, you jus’ tell me. I’ll take care of it." He switched back to what passed for a normal voice. "Besides, Angus seems to like you."

My heart fluttered for half a second before I realized that, at best, he liked me in a big brother/little brother sort of way. Probably less, when you considered the fact that we’d only met each other for thirteen seconds. Stupid teenage crushes.

"Well, one way or another, you’d probably better start unpacking, because when everyone else gets here, it’ll get hectic." He was probably right. Besides, there were things in my suitcase that I didn’t really need anybody seeing. I wasn’t in love with the idea of wearing a bra, especially when I was supposed to be a boy, but now that they were (technically) growing, my poor little girls hurt so much at times just from pacing that it was either that or walk around all day with my arms firmly wrapped around my chest. To that end, I’d packed two very simple, white, cotton training bras, just in case it got bad while I was on my ‘short trip’. Those were just the top of the list of things that I didn’t want any of my male bunkmates to see. At least I’d had the common sense to only pack boy underwear.

I quickly went about unpacking, being careful to slip my bras inside some of the white briefs just in case anyone went rifling through my drawers to, say, run my underwear up the flagpole. I might’ve been told that people here were alright, but that didn’t mean I could afford to take stupid chances. Once that much was safely hidden away, I added my jeans, four pairs of shorts, and six T-shirts to the drawer, then carefully stuffed my birth control pills into the pocket of my dress pants and stuffed them as far back in the drawer as I could. I decided to leave my toiletry bag in the nearly-empty suitcase as I hoisted it onto the bunk, then slid it up on top of the rafters, creating a make-shift shelf for myself. I decided to leave my backpack alone right now; I didn’t need my discman or any of the books I’d brought along, and if someone saw my journal or sketchbook, they might be inclined to ask about it.

"Nice setup," a voice commented from behind me.

"You know, this is going to sounds stupid," I began as I turned around. "But, I forgot your name." I normally would’ve just waited for someone else to say it, but we were the only two people around at the moment.

"Brian," he said happily, almost making me feel like I wasn’t an idiot. "So, you all finished?" He nodded his head towards my suitcase high above.

"Um, yeah… My parents didn’t tell me where we were going, so I didn’t pack very much. I guess I’m going to be washing laundry a lot."

"Don’t worry about it too much. I’m sure your parents will send you some extra clothes."

"Great, just what I don’t need: My parents rifling through my room." I flopped backwards so that I was lying down on my bed; It was surprisingly comfortable. "Actually, what I think I need is a little nap," I finally said as I pulled one of the sheets over my head and closed my eyes.

"Fair enough," I heard through the darkness. "Just ring room service if you need anything, sir."

Room service? For a moment I was enticed, but then my addled brain realized he was trying to be funny. I pushed my squelched dreams of champagne and a hot-fudge sundae being delivered to my bunk out of my mind and tried to relax. It wasn’t hard. Maybe it was the long plane ride and car trip, or maybe all the stress I’d been through today, or it might’ve just been the peace and tranquility inspired by the rustic surroundings and the gentle caress of the breeze, but I found my tension sleeping away almost immediately after closing my eyes and taking a few deep breathes.

I had nearly succeeded in drifting off the sleep, when the ominous sound of grunting shocked me into full attention. I yanked the sheet of my head.

The screen door cracked like a thunderclap as it was thrown wide, and a BIG guy walked in… followed by a scrawny guy, then a little guy, and another scrawny guy, then another big guy, then an evil-looking guy, and the a big, dirty-blonde guy who I soon recognized as Charlie’s brother Darren, and finally Angus.

I held my breath and silently scolded myself for spending so much time studying art and literature and not nearly enough honing the fine skills of turning invisible and teleporting.

After a few moments, the rush of sheer terror had finally passed, leaving simply annoyance at having the peaceful calm of the forest desecrated by these jabbering monkeys. I groaned and yanked the covers back over my head as I realized that it would probably be like this all summer. Maybe I could learn to hibernate.

Then the earthquake struck! The entire bunk rocked and I heard the sound of to wooden legs grinding against the planks making up the floor as it slid. Not being an idiot, I dove off the top bunk and huddled on the floor with my arms over my head. I hadn’t heard about earthquakes in Pennsylvania, but anything was possible.

The ground wasn’t moving, I realized after my impromptu dive for safety. I cautiously uncovered my head and looked up. A Big guy was looking back down at me, then he stood up, and up… and up. I felt like a cat about to be hit by a tractor trailer. Then he smiled and moved in towards me on the floor. I had been in this kind of situation before.

Had I not already spent my daily reserve of adrenaline, I probably would’ve gotten away, but he just barely managed to wrap a tree-limb around me - no wait, that was his arm – and then brought me along for the ride as he straightened up. I dangled in the air and tried my best to not scream like a six-year-old… and failed miserably.

Finally, much to my surprise, I was gently set down on the floor, standing up, as a low rumble from behind me said, "Sorry, little guy, I didn’t know anyone was up there. I hope I didn’t scare you."

The best response I could manage was to stand there and not wet my pants as several of the newcomers broke down laughing and pointing. Even the obvious geeks were chuckling a little at the whole affair, including Brian. Then I finally caught sight of Angus: If he was biting any more of his lip, he’d be sucking chin. It was more stress than I could take in one day, my stomach finally announced, and I made a lunging dash towards the bathroom I’d seen earlier and voided what little I’d eaten earlier into the cabin’s only toilet.

After an uncomfortable thirty seconds, I was down to nothing but dry-heaves and sobs. I really hated my body. Every other girl on the planet just passed out when things got too overwhelming. Me? I puked up my own stomach lining.

I wiped my mouth with a little toilet paper once the heaves had slowed down and finally rested my forehead against the toilet seat and started crying as quietly as I could manage. How the hell could my parents do this to me? Surely they weren’t stupid enough to honestly think that sending me to a camp like this would ‘cure’ me of being a girl. Did they hate me because of this? Was this some kind of punishment for not being a perfect son? For not being a son at all? Did they want me to die out here, all alone? Maybe that’s exactly what they were trying to do: Make me so upset that I’d take care of the problem myself. But then, why did they care about stopping me before? Because I was their son then, not some half-and-half freak. "What am I gonna do," I squeezed out under my breath between sobs.

I felt something soft and gentle touch my shoulder. I slowly looked up and tried to turn my head. Someone said "Here," from out of sight and produced a glass of water. I was too fucked-up to care that it didn’t make much sense, so I just carefully wrapped the glass with my trembling fingers and took as large a gulp as I could manage without choking, and then another. I took a few deep breaths before rinsing my mouth out with what was left in the glass and spitting it into the toilet. It helped a little, but nothing was going to get rid of that taste, except for time.

I just leaned my head back down and sniffled and coughed and shook while he rubbed my back. It was a gentle touch, but so deliberates and controlled that it had to be connected to some real strength. It felt like an hour or longer that I sat there, listening to my own pathetic noises bouncing off the cheap, mildew-stained tile, with a disembodied hand tenderly rubbing my back. Reality finally began to congeal around me as I calmed down more and more. The attention had helped, but I suddenly realized I had no idea who or where it was coming from.

My neck was to sore after the day’s events to move much on it’s own, so sat up and carefully turned my entire upper body around.

Angus sat back a little and smiled tenderly at me. God, he was gorgeous. I wasn’t sure how exactly to react.

"You gonna be alright?" He looked so concerned. I suppose after the scare I’d given him earlier, he had every right to be. "Hey, everyone gets off on a bad foot every now and then, don’t let it get to you. They didn’t mean anything out there, and Vin really didn’t mean to scare you. Actually, he’s terrified that he might’ve hurt you… Um, he didn’t, did he?" The leap from the bed had been a little hard on my hands and arms when I’d landed, but it wasn’t serious, so I just shook my head a little. "If it makes you feel better, I’ll have him toss around everyone else out there for you. Believe me, he’d do it if he thought it’d make you feel better."

Granted, it was a bad joke, but it technically shouldn’t have made me start crying again, yet there I was, leaning against Angus’ chest and shaking as he once again began rubbing my back again, a little deeper this time. "God, you’re a little ball of tension, aren’t you," he observed. I just nodded dumbly against his chest and tried to get myself under control. "That’s probably half the problem, here." In one motion, he spun me around and pulled me back so I was on my butt instead of my knees.

"Gack!" It hurt at first, having his large fingers digging into my knotted neck and back flesh, but not a bad kind of hurt. He moved slowly and deliberately, pressing gently but firmly against iron-plated balls of muscle and rubbing them gently into a liquid state. I had to bite my lip to keep myself from moaning, but that still didn’t stop me from enjoying it a lot more than I should’ve been allowed to, at least until I was 18.

He stopped far too soon, in my opinion. "Better," he asked, clapping me on the shoulder. Not thinking, I nodded. "Good."

I was gently pulled onto my feet and helped over to the sinks, where I quickly proceeded to wash the taste of dried bile from my mouth.

"You know, you gave me a hell of a scare earlier," he started as I swished another mouthful of water around. "I was afraid you’d taken off, and you know I’d loose my bonus if I lost a kid my first day on the job." He was trying to lighten the mood a little; It was sweet, but annoying, too. I think the look I shot him conveyed that general message.

"Anyway, I really feel bad about that back there," he pointed his thumb back over a shoulder towards the closed door and the cabin (and campers) beyond. "It’s a horrible way for you to start your summer, and I want you to know that I’m ready to do whatever it takes to help you feel better." Water almost came out my nose as I snorted; I don’t think he quite realized what a good deal of me WANTED him to do to make me feel better… Not that kiss was a lot to ask for, but asking him or one of the guys to stop beating the crap out of me for being a ‘fag’ certainly would be.

I just continued to wash my face and mouth with cold water.

There was a knock on the door as a large head poked in. "Hey, is he okay," it rumbled. Angus just nodded lightly. I assumed that was Vin, the same man-mountain who’d lifted me like a ragdoll before. He stepped inside the bathroom, closing the door behind him and hanging his head in shame. "I’m really sorry about that. I didn’t mean to knock you off the bed, and I guess I was a little too eager helping you up." He smiled hopefully at me… almost…

Almost begging. I stared up at him, completely dumbfounded as cold water dripped off my face. Here was a guy who looked like he could be a football team (not be ON a foot ball team, but BE a football team) and he was apologizing and looking almost like he’d cry if I didn’t forgive him.

"Um… I… er, uh," It wasn’t intelligible, but it was a great deal more than I thought I’d be able to manage.

"I’ll give you my desserts for the rest of the week to make it up to you." His face had a huge, hopeful smile plastered across it. It wasn’t the kind of grin somebody had when they were trying to play a prank on me; the difference was subtle, but after fourteen years, I’d learned to notice it. He was either sincere, or an incredible actor.

The thought of food in general made me a little ill at the moment, so his offer wasn’t exactly enticing. Still, I thought it better to not make him desperate. Speaking was still not really a possibility, so I just nodded gently and tried to smile… It probably came out more like a nervous grimace, given how I was feeling at the moment.

He actually looked like he got Bigger as his face lit up. "Cool. Thanks a lot," he said as he shook my hand with zeal. "I’m Vin," he added as a secondary thought.

"Um…" I tried to think of something to say that would keep him in a good mood without making him any happier. If he became any more enthusiastic, he’d probably break my arm. "Chris?" It sounded like the right name, at least.

"C’mon," Angus said as he put his hand on my neck. "I’ll introduce you to the other guys at dinner."

My stomach decided that would be the perfect moment to show off it’s impression of a salmon with a hook in it’s mouth. What a shame I was the only one who could appreciate it. "Lovely."

 

 

© 2001
The above work is copyrighted material. Anyone wishing to copy, archive, or re-post this story must contact the author for permission.