Adirondack Audacity (9 page)

“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….

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
point out constellations, giggling, making up our own
names for the star clusters.
“Donkey’s butt”
“Three little pigs”
“Looks like a guy’s…anatomy?”
“Knock, knock,” Someone calls.
“Who’s there?”
“Star light, Star bright.”
“Star light, Star bright who?”
“Star light, Star bright, wish I may, wish I might,
aren’t you glad you got lit tonight.”
Finally Kat can’t take it anymore. “I’m freezing my
ass off. I’m going to swim back to shore, anybody else
ready?” She shakes her head in disgust or jealousy at the
moans coming out of Mac and Patti. “You’re disgusting,
get a room,” she admonishes them. Kat’s on again, off
again relationship with the boyfriend back home is
temporarily on hold, and the lack of male companionship
this summer is making her crazy…...causing those around
her to suffer….greatly.
Ben leads the exodus off the raft with a cannon ball,
soaking the passion entwined couple. The raft pitches and
rocks threatening to throw them off as we follow Ben
into the water.
“You bastards!” Mac yells over the lake.
Tripping and giggling, we stumble over the slippery
rocks lining the water’s edge and fumble in the dark to
retrieve the shorts, shirts and sneakers left behind.
Shivering, we share the few towels that only Tee thought
to bring along, but this does little to dispel the chill from
our wet bathing suits.
Vic and I lag behind, letting the others lead the way
down the darkened path to the cabins. “Here, take my
sweatshirt,” he says, noticing the goose bumps on my
arms. He pulls his swimming hoodie over my head. The
shark mascot on the front shines in the moonlight, the
word captain spelled down the left arm.
Damp tendrils of curls form as I shake my hair free
of the rubber band and wiggle into the warmth of his
oversized sweatshirt. Pushing up the cuffs, I help him
smooth his shirt down, running my hands over his torso.
Feeling mischievious, I stand on my tip toes, giving him a
quick kiss before sprinting away, daring him to chase me.
I have rather long legs and ran track this spring, but
barely cover ten feet when two strong arms grab and
scoop me up. The giddy feeling from the joint only
intensifies the maleness of his presence.
“Thought you’d get away, didn’t you?”
Truth be told, I didn’t try very hard…..a slow turtle
would have caught me. The same thought on our minds
as he pulls me in close. His heat contagious, warming my
skin, seeping into my chest, and slowly working its way
south. His lips slowly meet mine, soft and tentative at
first, seeking my response. As I lean in craving more, his
arms coil around me molding our bodies together. I tilt
my head back, loving the rough texture of his cheek and
jaw beneath my hand. I whisper, “I didn’t really want to
get away.”
“Too many Twinkies this winter?”
“What!” I squeal in righteous indignation. I can feel
him chuckling against my hair.
“Elle, I don’t care how many Twinkies you eat. I’ll
always catch you.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
He lets out a ragged breath touching his forehead to
mine. He pushes my hair to the side, kissing the tender
hollow of my neck, sending delicious tingles down my
spine. His mouth works it way up my jaw to my lips
which part under the demands of his mouth and our
tongues entwine. Trailing up my back, squeezing,
kneading, his hands sweetly caress my body. I groan and
tilt my hips against him.
Wow and double wow!
So much for
kissing the boy next door……..now this is a kiss.
“Hey, you two, break it up.” Kat hisses, appearing out
of the dark. I jump two feet in the air and smack my head
on the trunk of a tree.
“Ouch!
Kat! Sweet Jesus, just give me a heart attack,
why don’t you! What!”
“Morris is back and prowling the camp.” She pulls us
apart, dragging me down the path to our cabin. “Hurry
up before he catches us. What the hell were you doing
necking out in the open? How stupid can you be, at least
hide in the bushes.” She looks over her shoulder in the
direction of the raft silhouetted in the moonlight. “Sure
hope Mac and Patti are fast swimmers. It would be a
shame if they got caught…” She cackles in delight.
Sometimes she can be downright
scary.