What Is Quite Possibly The Worst Way To Spend Summer Vacation

The final road we had to go onto to get into Camp Sirène (seriously, that’s its name) was a dirt one. Obviously it wasn’t well-maintained, and I had to clutch onto the overhead handles so that I didn’t go tumbling. As I discovered when I looked into the back of the van, though, my things weren’t quite as fortunate.

“Dad, could you knock it off with the Speed Racer?” I asked as we flew over a pothole. By now the overhead handles had become the “OSHIT” handles (mostly because that’s what I yelled when I had to grab onto them), and my knuckles were becoming white from my death grip on them. The car came to a blissful, yet screeching, stop, and I saw that we had ended up in a line for check-in. I sighed and hunched back into my seat. I never liked lines. Or waiting in general.

A guy with black hair and an incredibly large sign taped to his chest started coming down the line, a clipboard in hand. He’d talk briefly with the person in the passenger seat of the vehicles he’d stop at, then check them off and signal them to keep going.

Upon further inspection, the paper sign said, in glaringly-pink highlighter “Counselor-in-Training”. Right.

“Can I get your name, please?” the guy asked. He had the clipboard and pen in one hand, and with the other, he pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. Charming. At least they weren’t huge geek glasses; they were small and wire-rimmed, and they would’ve made him look sophisticated if he weren’t wearing that hugely obvious sign on his chest.

“Matthew Bryant,” I muttered, sinking down in my seat when he looked in at me, curious. The CIT consulted his clipboard and nodded, making a mark. He made to point forward, but he had to push his glasses back up the bridge of his nose again. Would I have to deal with this guy all summer?

“Just park over there and there will be someone to bring you over to your cabin,” he said. “If you’re under eighteen and have medicine, you need to drop it off with the camp nurse. Any questions can be directed at a staff member or a CIT; we’re all wearing these signs today, so you can tell us apart. Have fun!” With that last sunny remark, he pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose one more time and moved out of the way so we could drive ahead.

“Dad, I’ll let you cut off my allowance if you just turn the car around right now,” I said. My father just looked at me in the rearview mirror, clearly amused.

“And just what is so wrong with this place?” he asked. We were driving along the lake towards the driveway now, and we could see a magnificent view when the pine trees parted. I just stared at it, and I knew that my father was smirking to himself. “Matt, you’ll have fun here. Besides, your mother will kill me if I just bring you back; she’s paying for this whole thing.”

I sunk down. My mother owned a bakery in the town that we lived in. It had gotten pretty successful lately, and since we had an excess of money, she had decided that it would be a better idea for me to spend my summer stuck in a cabin with five other guys and the most exciting thing being a game of Marco Polo within the floatie boundaries set on the lake.

As opposed to, like, working there in the bakery with her. She had been telling me over the year that now that I was fifteen I should be working to earn a living. Fucking hypocrite.

“What did you say, Matt?” Dad asked. My eyes widened, realizing that I had said that last part out loud. My father lost interest, though, as we entered the parking lot. There were some younger kids being lead towards the clusters of cabins by their parents. I was one year short of the age cap for this camp, which meant that in addition to the aforementioned fun times, I’d be spending my summer surrounded by mostly junior high and elementary school kids.

“Dad, I’m like the oldest kid here,” I said. My father had stopped the car now, and he just looked at me like I was crazy.

“What about that CIT that checked us in earlier?” he asked. I glanced back down the road. That guy was still there, and I winced as I saw him adjust his glasses as he talked with someone in the car at the front of the line.

“That wouldn’t end well,” I muttered. My father just gave me a look as he pressed the button on his remote for opening the van’s back door.

“Just come here and get your bags,” he said. I sighed but nodded. I knew I was stuck here, so there was no use fighting it.

XXX

My father had left as soon as we had found the cabin. I was left standing outside now, my father retreating down the path. There was a large ‘three’ painted on the side, barely visible because of all the trees surrounding it.

I probably could’ve just stood out there all day, finding more and more excuses to avoid going in. And then I heard the thunder.

“Shit!” I exclaimed, picking my duffle bag and suitcase back up from the ground and running in. The door was, unfortunately, pull from the outside. I had just put down one bag so I could tug at the door, but it came flying out at me. I cursed again as the wooden frame hit me on the nose.

“Whoops, sorry, dude,” said the person who had opened the door. I was vaguely aware of him picking up my dropped duffle bag as I nursed my poor nose. “You here in cabin three?”

“Yes,” I managed. The door opened some more, and I followed him inside.

“I’m Jarret, the counselor for this cabin,” he said. He suddenly held his arm out to stop me. “Watch out for that board; it’s rotted so much you’d probably fall through to the ground.” I nodded, slightly alarmed at how casually he pointed this out. “My bed’s out here on the porch, and you’ll share a bunk bed set with one other guy here in the main room.” I just stared around as we entered said main room. The cabin was large, with its own bathroom. Given, it didn’t have a shower, but still…

“What the hell is my mother paying for me to come here?” I asked. Jarret grinned as he dropped my duffle bag at my feet. A couple of beds had already been claimed, but it seemed that the people who had taken them had gone off to do something else. I smiled to myself, realizing that they had probably been caught in the rain. Shadenfreude at its best, wouldn’t you say?

“You pretty much have your pick right now,” Jarret said. “Dinner starts at six, and after that we’ll gather over by the lake for the summer opener. We’re all just moving in right now, so you can do whatever you want.” I nodded, and Jarret headed out into the rain, indifferent. It was really coming down by then, and I had my doubts about leaving this cabin any time soon.

Just as I tossed the bag with all my clothes out of the way, the door flew open. Two guys came racing in, and I fell over onto the bottom bunk I had claimed in my attempts to get out of the way. The two boys raced over to the claimed beds at the far end of the cabin, one vaulting onto the top and the other falling onto the bottom one.

“You told me it wasn’t supposed to rain today!” said the one who had climbed onto the top bunk.

“What do I look like, a meteorologist?” the other one asked.

“Oh, hey, someone else is here!” Top Bunk kid said. I blinked as I looked at the two. Either they were twins, or they were doing that on purpose.

“I’m Kyle, and that guy up there is my brother Miles,” said the guy on the bottom bunk. Miles rolled over onto his stomach. He had previously been looking at me upside down. Great.

“How old are you?” he asked.

“Fifteen,” I said. Miles rolled back onto his back and started clapping high up in the air.

“Sweet!” he said. “We’re thirteen! We’re apparently not responsible enough to go out in a canoe by ourselves, but Jarret said if there are any older guys we could get one of them to take us.”

“Uh, right,” I said. Kyle and Miles got off their beds at that, and they pulled at my arms, taking one each.

This was going to be a long summer.

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So, this story has been a while in the making. My sister actually requested it, giving most of the details I’d need to write it. I probably won’t remember some of them, but here ya go! I hope everyone is enjoying it so far.