Adirondack Audacity Page 8

  “Nothing, it was Kat’s idea.”

  “Oh, that makes it sane.”

  Ben moans in his sleep and his noisy snores cover our whispered conversation.

  “Come on.” He slides out from under the bed, pulling me to my feet. My legs cramped from lying in the same position give out as I try to put weight on them.

  “Oww,”A small cry escapes as pins and needles of pain shoot through my numb limbs; luckily his arms catch me before I crash to the floor, causing certain disaster. Hidden by his body, we creep past his sleeping bunkmates as he half carries me across the room. The door swings open and he sets me on my feet, giving me enough space to place both hands on his chest and shove him backwards into the cabin where he trips, falling in a pile of laundry. “Hey!” He hisses at my back. “You owe me a kiss!”

  “Kiss yourself.” I taunt through the screen. And turning, I run down the steps onto the path leading through the woods, pumping my fist full of underwear in triumph over my head………mission accomplished.

  I hear Ben yelling from inside the cabin. “Vic, what the hell are you doing? Close the door, you’re letting the bugs in!”

  Running through the underbrush, I hear Vic’s voice echo through the trees. “I was letting a bug out, a pesky bug, who owes me an explanation in the morning.” …

  By the time I reach our cabin, I’m so mad; I fly up the steps in a rage.

  “Where were you!” I yell switching on the overhead light, pulling sleeping bags off my former friends, who henceforth shall be called traitors.

  “I thought you were going to watch out for me! General Patton and his fifth army could have swooped down on the three of you in broad daylight and you’d miss them coming.”

  “What happened?” Tee asks. Her voice carries a note of horrified thrill.

  “What do you think happened? I was this close to getting caught.” I hold my fingers out measuring a barely discernible distance under her nose. “I almost froze to death lying underneath Vic’s bed. Thank God, he was the only one who saw me hiding there.” I throw the underwear on the floor, and kick it for good measure. “You didn’t even wait for me! You deserted me, leaving me behind enemy lines! What kind of friends are you?” I pull Kat in her sleeping bag across the bed, glaring at her. “You’re supposed to be so smart! You couldn’t come up with a plan to divert them? Yell free beer, naked women in the woods, Yankee tickets! Anything for God’s sake!

  “Well,” Emi Jo begins, “It got cold and we were trying to fix Tee’s zipper and next thing we know, they were walking up the steps. It was too late, what could we to do?” She makes a face. “We feel bad for leaving you.”

  “Look you’re fine, what’s the big deal.” Kat stretches and yawns, annoyed at the interruption to her beauty sleep. “Can’t you just go to bed?” She burrows down into the cozy warmth of her sleeping bag.

  “No!” I smack her over the head with a pillow. “Here is your stupid underwear, the three of you can figure out how to get them up the flag pole. I’m done. I had to lay on that cold damp floor listening to Mac brag about his sexual conquests. Ugh!” I shiver at the memory. “And just so you know, Emi Jo, Ben farts in his sleep.”

  “Oh, dirt, tell us more.” Tee says, sitting up in bed always eager for gossip.

  “Get your own dirt. Good night.” I say, flopping down onto my bunk, turning my back on the three of them. I can’t help but think…..maybe adventures aren’t so glamourous…..

  …

  As dawn begin its slow creep over camp, seven pairs of underwear fly from the flag pole rigging, gently billowing in the morning breeze. Assembled outside the dining hall for morning salute and meditation, the entire camp enjoys the spectacle of boxers and panties flying in place of old Glory. A great deal of laughter and pointing accompany the question of who put them up the flagpole.

  “Could someone explain why our underwear is up there with the guys?” I whisper in Emi Jo’s ear. Of course, my favorite ones are up there. I knew sleeping in while they finished the job was a bad idea.

  Flying from the pole interspersed with the boxers, hang Kate’s red lace panties more fitting for a lady of the evening than a camp counselor along with Emi Jo’s white briefs, Tee’s days of the week undies and my perfectly innocent pink panties. Tee wears days of the week underwear, what would you expect. And of course, being Wednesday, Wednesday’s panties fly from the pole.

  “Shh.” Emi Jo says, staring straight ahead with a look of innocence on her face. “Don’t let them see us talking. Act like this is just as much a surprise to us as the rest of the camp.” She raises her voice. “Wow, who could have done such a thing?” She’s a terrible actor. We need to shut her up or we’re busted.

  “We added our personal contribution to throw Erhart off,” Tee whispers smugly. “Pretty smart, huh?” Just brilliant.

  I can’t look in the direction of the Erharts. I fear guilt is written across my face in bold neon letters. She took them!

  Mr. Erhart is beyond furious and then some. He walks to the pole, tugging down the rigging, removing the contraband. He turns to the assembled group and in a tight voice fumes, “This type of immature behavior will not, I repeat, Will not be tolerated at Camp High Point.” He walks through the campers and counselors, his hands behind his back like a prison warden, looking intently for the slightest speck of guilt. “If these pranks continue I will start canceling activities. We can spend the rest of the summer cleaning or reading in our cabins.” This announcement is followed by a chorus of groans. “If another prank occurs, the activities of the day will be canceled. I will continue canceling activities as I see fit to protect the safety of the campers. Is this clear?” He glares at the group. “These pranks get out of control and people get hurt. Is there anyone who fails to understand me?” A chorus of “No, Mr. Morris” rises up on the morning air from the assembled group. “Now everyone go into breakfast and that will be the last of this nonsense.” With that pronouncement he stalks to the trash can and tosses the underwear into it. Damn, my favorite pair.

  “Look at the trio of fools standing over there, they’re furious.” Kat, the voice of wisdom suppresses a giggle, shoving her hands into the pouch of her hoodie sweatshirt.

  “Yeah, especially Mac, he recognizes his boxers.” Emi Jo says. “Ellen, you did a great job taking a variety of colors and sizes. Those are Ben’s, second ones down the line.”

  “Shh,” I look at her with shock. “How do you know which ones are his?”

  “It’s not what you think, gutter mind.” She starts to explain when three pissed off faces come stalking in our direction. “Oh, boy, here they come, play it cool.”

  “Good morning, my dear ladies.” Ben says. He looks at the four of us with feigned devotion etched on his face. “Lovely morning for a little flagpole activity, isn’t it? My, my, I wonder how those smelly boxers from our cabin got up there on that little bitty flagpole.”

  “I don’t know how you did it, but you’ll pay.” Mac takes a menacing step toward us.

  I look at Vic, he shakes his head ever so slightly, indicating our secret is safe.

  “Beats me, underwear just don’t fly up flagpoles.” Kat shrugs her shoulders.

  “I think it was the four of you,” Mac shoves his face close to Kat. “So watch your back.”

  “Fuck you.” She shoots him the bird. I’m going to faint. Flying hand gestures are not condoned at camp.

  “And the same goes for you, that looks like our underwear up there.” Tee gets in Mac’s face. “How do we know you didn’t do it and you’re just bluffing?” Apparently Tee has a taste for intrigue, she’s enjoying every second of this dialogue.

  With the fun over, everyone heads to the dining hall; tagging behind I prefer to be last in line. Until this incident blows over I intend to avoid social contact for….ever. And then I notice Vic standing behind me. He slips his hands on my hips and breathes these words softly into my ear, “Ella, Ella, my mia bella, the next time you see my underwear, darling,
they aren’t going to be flying from any flagpole. And just for the record, I don’t wear any.” And with that he gives the hollow space of my hips a sensual squeeze and walks away………

  Oh my God, what have I got myself into? I’m paralyzed with a titillating fear running up the back of my spine……fueled by the possibility of a delicious threat……and the implications of his whispered words….

  Chapter 10 A Little Illegal A few days after the “boxer incident” Vic s aunters across the dining hall, stopping to pour a glass of water from the pitcher on our table. He leans over whispering in my ear, “The Erharts are going out tonight. It’s a secret; no one is supposed to know. But after lights out, a bunch of us are going down to the beach for a moonlight swim. Why don’t I come by your cabin and we’ll walk down to the lake together.” Behind the cover of my hair, I feel his tongue lightly fleck over my ear. “I think you owe me something, and I’m ready to collect.”

  Jeepers creepers. Sneaking out after curfew…….against all the rules…….. into the dark……. lions and tigers and Vic…..oh my. Everyone else has been creeping around camp at night, except for yours truly and Tee. And Vic wants to collect……..the kiss. Something about him suggests…he has kissed more than a few girls and I’m suspicious he knows stuff. I feel anticipation titillated by fear, a flavor new to me, but rather yummy…..

  … Temperatures hovering in the eighties call for one thing, a clandestine moonlight swim. The night is cast in the light of a full moon, the lake bathed in the soft sepia shadows of black and white. With the Erharts off for the night and the campers snug in their bunks, it’s time for operation S.W.I.M. (Swim Without Informing Morris) Eight pairs of shorts and T-shirts litter the bushes lining the shore as we shuck down to bathing suits and dive into the inky black depths of the lake, surfacing amid suppressed squeals of laughter, giggling, and splashing. The water feels exhilarating against our hot skin. Only Mac eases into the lake carefully, holding a small baggy over his head; swimming a slow one handed crawl out to the raft. Kat climbs up the ladder jeering at him to “hurry up, slow poke”.

  To avoid detection we swam out from the west end of camp, making the distance to the raft a longer swim than if we had left directly from the beach. Emi Jo almost didn’t make it; but Vic swam along beside her and brought a life jacket along in case anyone needed help.

  The barrels under the raft make gurgling sounds as we take turns diving off, slicing though the midnight black water causing the raft to lift and fall in our wake. At last exhausted, we collapse onto the swaying raft forming a circle of heaving chests and spent muscles. We’re momentarily struck silent by the beauty and solitude of the lake on this sultry evening. An island afloat, cast in the light of the moon. We’re moon bathing, in beams of moonlight that throw cooling rays onto the rough tarmac of the raft.

  With my head cradled on Vic’s shoulder, my chest heaves with the exertion from the swim. I fume looking over at him…. he’s hardly breathing……..all that swim practice, he’s in such good shape…maybe I should have eaten fewer Twinkies over the winter…….. taken track practice more seriously…….learned tennis………well, let’s not get crazy here.

  On sudden impulse, I lean over and plant a quick kiss on his wet lips. “There we’re even, debt paid.” He smiles, shaking his head. “Later, caro.” My lips carry the faint taste of a recent cigarette. He brought two packs stashed in his duffle bag to last through the summer, only one a day……he can be very disciplined…. sometimes.

  At last cool, replete from the rigors of swimming and diving; everyone stretches out, watching the stars create a luminous moment in the sky overhead.

  “ Come on, Mac, what are you waiting for?” asks Patti, one of the resident counselors and Mac’s newest conquest. A voluptuous dark haired beauty, although older, she appears quite taken with him. There is no accounting for taste.

  “Let’s get lit,” she urges him.

  I exchange a look of trepidation with Vic, light up what, remembering the baggy held aloft as Mac swam out

  to the raft.

  “Yeah, sure, okay, who hasn’t had a joint before?”

  Mac asks looking around. No one wants to admit to

  being marijuana virgin. Everyone just shrugs their

  shoulders like “no big deal.” Personally I’m freaking out.

  Oh, boy…….what am I going to do? I’ve never smoked

  before, let alone pot!

  “I have three joints. That should be enough for

  everybody to get a little buzz going.” He holds the baggy

  over his head, shaking it as a long lost treasure reclaimed.

  Reaching in the bag he takes out matches, carefully laying

  the joints side by side on the top of the plastic bag.

  Suddenly all conversation on the raft stills, every eye

  focused on the dim outline of the joints.

  “Holy shit,” I mutter under my breath.….Dorothy,

  we’re not in Kansas anymore.

  “I have some vodka.” Kat rolls over, revealing a silver

  flask tucked into the back of her bathing suit. What is

  she? A Girl Scout of calamity and disaster? Her motto, be

  prepared to get her friends shit faced and into trouble. “Hey Mac, how about we smoke only two of the joints and Kat’s vodka.” Vic says, sitting up, alert to a potentially dangerous situation. “We have to swim back across the lake. Even if we take the short way, the water is still deep. I don’t want to play lifeguard tonight. Let’s

  take it easy and save the rest for another time.”

  “Aw,” Patti whines, looking like a disappointed child

  at the candy store who can only have one lollipop instead

  of the whole jar. “I was looking forward to getting high.”

  The reason for her attraction to Mac becoming clear as

  she greedily eyes the joints. How and where does one get

  pot, unheard of in my circle of friends….along with a

  number of other subjects……I think the only kids in

  school more lacking in worldly experiences than

  myself….was the chess club.

  “You’re probably right.” Mac puts one of the joints

  back in the bag, leaning down to kiss Patti full on the

  mouth promising, “We’ll finish the other one when we

  get back on shore, I have plenty more stashed away for

  safe keeping.”

  “Oh, my summer hero!” She gushes. Oh, please!

  Superman he’s not, Wiley Coyote, maybe…

  Mac strikes a match. The flare momentarily blinds

  our night sensitive eyes, turning the end of the joint into a

  glowing ember, enticing the taste of the forbidden. He

  holds the roll to his lips and pulls a deep draft into his

  lungs. I watched in fascination. Kat and Patti pass the

  joint between them, taking deep breaths with practiced

  ease. Closing their eyes, they lean their heads back to send

  the fumes deep into their lungs, then exhale, the smoke

  hanging like a curtain in the night air.

  “I’ll pass,” Tee says, waving her hands to fan away

  the sweet smelling smoke screen. “Just the smell makes

  me nauseous.” She hands it to me.

  Looking at the joint in my hand, I stall…I’m not sure

  what to do with it. Marijuana virgin, oh boy…

  Vic whispers in my ear, “I’m going pass, you try it.

  I’ve done it before and I want to stay alert so everyone

  gets back to shore safely.” He puts his arm around my

  waist, pulling me closer, “Just relax and take a slow long

  breath into your lungs. Don’t hurry, hold it there for a

  few seconds and exhale.”

  I crane my head back to look at him in astonishment.

  His list of accomplishments never ceases to
amaze me.

  I’m sure on that ranch in Mexico, he and the vaqueros

  probably grew marijuana, rolled their own joints and had

  nightly pot parties. Ho hum….another day on the

  ranch…….

  Leaning back against his chest, I pull the pungent

  smoke down into my lungs, trying not to cough or choke,

  hold for a few seconds and exhale. A few minutes later a

  sweet sense of euphoria begins to snake and curl through

  my limbs, relaxing and exhilarating at the same time. Emi Jo takes the joint, and inhales too quickly causing

  her to cough and choke.

  “Here, try again,” Ben says, holding the joint for her

  until she regains her composure. “This is good shit.” “I wouldn’t know.” Emi Jo says and tries again,

  inhaling without a problem. “I think I like cigars better.”

  Several minutes later, “ohh…….maybe not, this feels

  pretty good.”

  “Told you,” I say, as the silver flask comes around the

  circle, catching and reflecting the sparse light. I take only

  a small sip, not liking the bitter taste of vodka. “Mac,

  where do you get all this stuff?” I ask as the joints are

  passed back and forth. They say you don’t get stoned the

  first time but I feel the stars moving closer to the raft.

  Taking another hit off the joint, I pass it to Ben. “For me to know and you to never find out.” Mac

  takes the flask and salutes the sky.

  “Why did you come to camp?” Tee asks him,

  sampling the vodka after wiping the top of the flask with

  her shirt tail. “I thought this kid stuff would be boring for

  you. You seemed to live a pretty fast paced life back

  home.”

  “I don’t know,” he gives a careless shrug of his

  shoulders. “I want to go into professional coaching or

  teach phys-ed so coming up here gives me some

  experience. I like the woods, the money and …..a little

  bootie.” He pulls Patti into his arms, lowering her down

  on the raft, covering her body in a passionate embrace. The raft bobs in the water like a lazy cork, as we