Chapter 1

About two hours from home, I stretched in the leather seat. I could see that my wife was reading a book. In the back seat, my young daughter was watching her DVD—or maybe she was sleeping. Her head was down so I couldn't be sure. As I drove, I recognized the town names on the highway signs. Many years ago, during the summers while I attended college, I had worked in this area.

One old billboard caught my eye. It had been painted on wood and obviously needed touching up a long time ago. Most of the words were still visible, though. I hadn't thought about that place in years. I wondered if it was still there. Looking at the weathered sign, I made a decision. I pulled into the right hand lane and signaled to exit. My wife looked up from her book when she felt the van slowing down.

"What's the matter?" she asked.

"Nothing's wrong, dear. I just want to make a stop."

"Here? It's the middle of nowhere," she said, her tone confirming her words.

She looked around; I had to agree with her. The rice fields had given way to pine forests. There weren't even many towns.

"I used to work at a summer camp here back when I was in school," I started to explain. "We just passed the sign. I want to see if the old place is still there."

I was concentrating on remembering directions from the dim recesses of my brain so I didn't pay attention to the look on my wife's face.

"We have a long drive ahead of us," she complained.

"So it won't matter if we stop for a little while," I countered.

Whatever my wife came up with, I was committed. I was going to find the old place.

Unlike the interstate, we were now bumping along a two lane highway. It looked like the road to a summer camp. About the only things that broke the expanse of trees on either side of the road were cow pastures. We were in low rolling hills now, north of the delta that formed much of south Louisiana. I strained to remember the way. It was slowly coming back to me from more than twenty years in the past. Through the tiny town, across the bridge, and... I missed the turn. I saw the aged sign as I passed it. Hitting the brakes, I looked behind me. No traffic in either direction way out here so I just backed up the minivan at high speed. Then a left turn and over the bridge. More woods, over a few hills and it was just before the end of the road.

There wasn't even a sign anymore at the road. It must have been knocked down years ago. I recognized the clearing though, the old gravel parking lot. I remembered how dusty it would be on hot, dry Sunday afternoons.

There was a rusty bar chained across the road into the camp so I parked. I laughed to myself as I automatically parked neatly in what would have once been one of the spaces. It wasn't like there were going to be any cars parking next to me. By the look of things, there hadn't been cars parking here in years.

My daughter had put her DVD player down and was looking out the window. Wherever we were, it was a lot more interesting than the monotonous expanse along the interstate.

"Where are we, Daddy?" she asked excitedly.

"Camp Kisatchie," I said, the words almost catching in my throat. Camp Kisatchie, on the edge of the national forest.

My wife looked at me, uneasy now. I couldn't figure out why she wouldn't be interested to see a piece of my history.

"What do we do now?"

"We walk, Fran. It's not far."

"I think I'll stay here and read," she said in a noncommittal tone.

"Can I come with you, Daddy?" Laura asked from the backseat, a bundle of excited energy at the prospect of getting out for a little while.

"Sure, honey. Come see where Daddy used to work."

As I opened my door, I heard Fran sigh heavily. She put down her book and got out, sliding open the back door to help Laura get out.

I looked around. So much had changed. Things were overgrown, definitely not the carefully manicured grounds I remembered. Over the gate, a rusting arch still proclaimed the name. I walked around the gate and led the way.

At first, I didn't recognize things. It had been so long and everything looked so different now. Then, the road passed the old Quonset hut. The curved sheets of tin were no longer silver. Now they were more the color of rust, the window panes grimy with decades of filth.

"Is that where you slept?" Laura asked, her nose wrinkling as she spoke.

"No, dear. That is where the tractor slept," I explained. "It was a tool shed. Old Mr. Higgins kept his tools in there. He was the groundskeeper."

When I saw my daughter didn't understand the term, I explained, "He cut the grass."

Laura nodded in understanding.

"How far are we going to go?" Fran asked, trying to sound bored.

"Relax. Enjoy the outdoors," I said as we moved out from under the trees and into the opening. It took me a little while of looking around to get my bearings.

Then it hit me, like a cloth was lifted from my eyes. A wave of disjointed memories suddenly flooded my mind, making me dizzy as I tried to sort them out. The memories were of places, people, events—some happy and some sad. I wondered what had happened to people I had known... and loved.

That brick building was the dining hall. Farther to the right, through those trees, was the swimming pool. The health lodge would have been about halfway there. The flagpole was in the center of that clearing, where we assembled to recite the Pledge of Allegiance every morning. The bunkhouses must be—

"Daddy, where are the doors?"

Laura's question pulled me from my reminiscing. She was pointing to the dining hall. Well, the remains of the dining hall.

"They're gone now, dear. It was a long time ago that we ate there."

I took Laura by the hand and led her off to the dining hall, Fran bringing up the rear unhappily.

I walked towards the missing wall, feeling disoriented. The dining hall seemed smaller than I remembered. I felt a step up. Pushing leaves away with my foot, I could see the remains of an old tile floor. Of course! Part of the building had collapsed. What was still standing was just one end of the building.

I walked under the edge of the remaining roof, towards the fireplace and the engraved stone. I looked around, the strong memory giving me a feeling like vertigo for a moment. I was just about right here when I met her...

We filed into the dining hall, the warm summer air not yet feeling stuffy. It was time for the nine o'clock meeting and Bill was already at the front of the room. I looked around as I took my seat, recognizing old faces and nodding to them, looking at the new ones, noticing the new cute girls.

"Come on in and take a seat," Bill said with a smile, indicating empty benches to the obviously disoriented first year counselors. You could tell them by the slightly confused looks on their faces. This was all overwhelming the first time. Once everyone was seated, Bill began his usual speech.

"Welcome to Camp Kisatchie. We're looking forward to a great summer this year. We're booked up for the entire season again so we'll be busy into August." Pointing to Phil, he continued, "For those of you with us for the first time, see Phil later to get your assignments. Most of you will be assigned in groups of twos to a bunkhouse, except for the cook staff and the health lodge staff.

"We've already had a few mishaps. What's a summer at Camp Kisatchie without some disasters, right?" Laughter rippled through the room as the experienced counselors remembered past years. Bill always managed to pull things back together, though. His motto was always We'll be alright. "Alice, our staff nurse, will be a few days late. She was in an automobile accident on her way here." Murmurs arose. "She's okay, but it will take a day or two to get her car drivable. So nobody gets hurt until she gets here, agreed?"

"Two of our more experienced counselors won't be joining us. Helen is, uh..." Bill paused to consider the best way to phrase her condition.

"Knocked up!" one of the guys who knew Helen supplied.

Bill's face showed his shock at the outburst. Then, remembering there were no kids present, he smiled. "I was going to say, 'In the family way, ' but that about covers it. Also, Theresa called to say she's attending summer school this year. That means we have two new counselors who will have to handle a bunkhouse by themselves. Please, everyone, give them a hand," Bill said as he pointed to a blonde and a brunette sitting together at one end of the room. Then, to the two women, "I need to talk with you after the meeting."

He went on about how the camp was laid out and how it was run. He reminded us about being big brothers and sisters to the campers. He warned us about not smoking in front of the campers, not drinking while camp was in session, not forming romantic relationships with the campers, the usual warnings. He explained how the campers arrive on Sunday afternoon and leave on Friday. Our free time is Friday afternoon to Sunday afternoon. The usual stuff. I had heard it all two times before. My mind wandered as I looked over the new staff members. I paid enough attention to hear that nothing had changed which would affect me.

After two hours of talking, Bill was dismissing us to move into our accommodations and check out where we'd be working. I stood up and headed for a door as I noticed someone from the cook staff corralling him with a clipboard. They were having a heated discussion.

"Tim, wait a minute, please," Bill said, stopping my exit.

I looked to him, seeing him already exasperated. Not a good sign with summer camp only underway for two hours.

"I have a problem with the food deliveries that I have to attend to. Can you talk to the new female counselors? The standard lecture about the younger girls?"

I groaned. That was Alice's job, or his if she wasn't available, one no one wanted to deal with. I could tell from the look on his face that whatever he had to deal with was even less pleasant. Once again, I was in the wrong place at the wrong time, being one of the more experienced counselors. I really didn't want to do this, but I liked to help Bill when I could.

"Sure, Bill. I'll do it. Where are they?"

His job was the hardest—he managed the camp. He got paid more, but the headaches surely couldn't make the extra money worth it.

"Thanks. I'll owe you. They're at the far table," he said, pointing to the last table near the fireplace.

A fireplace here. How ridiculous. It dated back to the early days of the camp, when there was a winter camp as well. As I headed over to the table, I saw one bright spot. They were the cute blonde and brunette I had been admiring earlier, both looking about twenty. College students, like me, out to make a little extra money over the summer, probably.

"Hi, I'm Tim," I said with a smile as I sat down on the wooden bench next to the brunette.

The blonde laughed. Seeing my confused expression, she pointed to my shirt. "We already know your name. It's on your shirt. Counselor Tim."

"Oh, yeah. The nametags." I saw that the brunette's name was Patrice, the blonde's was Abby.

"Bill normally talks to the new counselors but he had to take care of a problem. He asked me to do it." I couldn't believe I was going to do this.

"I thought he already covered all that," Patrice said.

"There are a few other things he wants to explain, and they only concern you—or rather your campers. You're both assigned to bunkhouse 3G, right?"

They both nodded.

"You will be taking care of the twelve and thirteen year old girls. You're going to be their big sisters."

"It sounds like fun," Abby said, smiling.

"Yeah. Well, there's this, uh, there's one, one, uh, problem we have with this group every summer." I took a deep breath. I hated having to explain this. I felt really uncomfortable with it. One of the female counselors should be doing this, not me. "There are always a few, a few girls who have their first, uh," I was starting to sweat and it wasn't the heat, "uh, period, when they're here with us." There, I'd said it. Abby blushed furiously. Patrice was trying to not look as uncomfortable as she must have felt. "It never fails that one or two of them haven't had, you know, the talk with their mothers yet."

I looked at each of them, hoping recognition would dawn on their faces and spare me the rest of the lecture. No luck.

"What usually happens always seems to happen at night. There will be maybe, uhm, a blood curdling scream, uh, from the bathroom... during the night. It's your job to take her aside and, well, explain the facts of life to her."

"You have got to be kidding," Patrice said, expressionless.

"Sorry, I'm not. The poor dear will be scared half to death, thinking she's dying or something. What works best, I'm told, is to gather up a change of clothes for her and take her over to the health lodge. You can help her get cleaned up and Alice will help you explain what's happening to her. We keep extra, you know, supplies there."

Abby, still blushing, now opened her eyes wider. "You mean, show her how to use them?"

I nodded and wiped sweat from my brow. I didn't think I could say anything more at that moment. Patrice noticed.

"The only funny thing about this is how you look even more uncomfortable than we do."

"I think I am. It's not easy to talk about. Bill wants you to be prepared. You should get, uh, familiar with the way to the health lodge. You should be able to find your way there in the dark."

"Was that the worst of the news?" Abby asked.

"Yes, I'm happy to say," I replied as I took a deep cleansing breath. I felt more confident with that behind me. "Except for that, this is a great job. You'll make sure the girls get up in the morning, take them to their activities, get them to meals, and see that they shower and get to bed at night. You'll have some of the younger girls. They're still sweet and happy. It's the older ones who are so... difficult. You will also alternate weeks teaching an activity. One week, Abby will teach and Patrice will take the girls to their activities, the next week you'll switch."

They both nodded that they understood.

"We also do an overnight canoe trip each week for the older kids. Brian is in charge of that. You're expected to volunteer once or twice during the summer to chaperone. Everybody does it and it's really fun."

"What do we do on the weekends?" Patrice asked.

"We're free from Friday afternoon when the kids leave until the next group arrives on Sunday. Most of us stay here, but you can go home if you live nearby. Are either of you from around here?"

Abby shook her head. "I'm from out of state."

"That's a long way for a summer job," I observed. Most of our counselors were from the towns nearby.

"I'm an English Lit major at UT."

Patrice brightened up at that. "My cousin goes to U Texas."

Abby shook her head. "Not that UT. Knoxville."

"Knoxville, Texas? Never heard of it," I said.

"No, silly," she said, smiling pleasantly. "University of Tennessee."

"Oh. We get a few counselors from far away. I remember my first summer. There was this guy from some little bitty town in Indiana no one had ever heard of. Scipio, I think it was," I remembered.

"Scipio," Abby said with a chuckle, the unfamiliar name stumbling over her tongue. "What a funny name."

I looked to Patrice.

"I'm from Shreveport so I'll be staying here on the weekends, too," she said.

I nodded. "There are lots of things to do here. There's a picture show in the town, some of us go canoeing or swimming, or just relax. It's nice to not have to look after campers for a few days."

Standing and stepping over the bench, I offered, "I'll show you to Bunkhouse 3G."

"Thanks, Tim," Patrice said pleasantly.

I felt a pang in my heart when she said that. I was starting to like Patrice a lot already. Abby was pretty, too, but there was something about Patrice. I only hoped she felt something, too.

They followed me out the screen door and it closed with a squeak and a bang behind our backs. Turning right, I walked down the gravel road with a girl on either side of me and pointed out places along the way.

"It's all kind of overwhelming," Abby said.

"Don't worry. You'll get used to it soon. This place isn't as big as it first seems."

I showed them to their bunkhouse. It was like all the others. Bunk beds on each side of a large room. Next to the door was the private bedroom the two counselors would share, and the door leading to a bathroom at the other end of the big room. I turned on the big electric fans and we all started opening windows.

"A truck is going to come around with the mattresses. We'll help you move them in and put them on the beds. The kids will get their own linens from the supply room behind the dining hall and make their beds when they arrive each week, but you need to go pick up yours today. After you get your things moved in, I mean. It won't take long to get things setup. Lunch is at twelve in the dining hall. They blow a siren when it's time. We have another meeting after lunch to explain the activities you'll be working on."

"Thanks, Tim," Patrice said, shaking my hand.

Her touch was soft and very nice. I tried hard not to sigh at her touch.

"Yes, thanks," Abby added.

I hardly noticed Abby's comment.

"If you girls need anything, I'm in bunkhouse 4B, a little further down the road. Oh, yes, there's a map in your packets. See you at lunch," I told them as I left.

I walked out into the hot sun. Patrice was on my mind as I walked over to my bunkhouse, the crunch of the gravel underfoot marking my progress up the hill.

"This is hard work climbing all these hills, Daddy."

My daughter's words jerked me out of my reminiscing.

"We got used to them. We walked everywhere we went."

"That's a lot of walking," Laura observed.

"Over the summer, it sure was," I agreed with a smile.

"Where did you sleep?" she asked.

"This way," I pointed and started off, taking her by the hand. My wife followed along, looking bored. Well, maybe not bored, but uncomfortable.

"Uncomfortable," I thought, as I turned over again. The night was especially hot. Even though the fans were on and the windows were open, it just wasn't enough. I kept waking up from the heat.

It always happens at night. True to my word, it happened a few weeks into the summer. A distant scream pierced the night. I sat up, but then realized what it probably was. Why do these things always have to happen at night?

Jim was still sleeping. I knew the girls would have to find their way in the dark. I couldn't sleep so I decided I might as well go help them find their way.

I saw the light on in their bedroom as I approached from the road. As I got closer, I ran into Anne from the bunkhouse next door to 3G. She smiled when she saw me. We both knew what had happened. Inside, I could hear people moving around. I could hear Abby's voice trying to get some of the other girls to go back to sleep and I could also hear the girl sobbing. Poor thing.

Anne and I waited outside the door. In a moment, Patrice and Abby came out with the young girl between them. It was Francis and she looked frightened in the moonlight.

"I'll help you find your way to the health lodge," I offered.

The three of them looked surprised to see the two of us there at first.

Anne spoke up. "I'll stay here with your girls until you get back," she offered.

She didn't wait for their answer. She walked through the screen door at once.

"Thanks," Patrice said, greeting me with a smile. I was starting to feel like I'd climb a mountain for that smile.

Abby was carrying some clothes. I knew the routine. We didn't talk, more for the girl's sake. It wasn't a long walk and I walked ahead of the girls to give them their space, more for the benefit of Francis. When we got to the health lodge, the front porch light was on, as it always was at night. We went right in but I stayed just inside the door, enjoying the cool air.

The health lodge was one of the few places that was air conditioned. It was where the sick campers were taken. Minor illnesses were usually treated with an overnight stay in the air conditioned comfort of the few beds there, under the watchful eye of the camp nurse. Alice came out of her room, looking as sleepy as the rest of us. She made a special effort to smile when she recognized the situation.

"I'll stay with her," Abby offered.

I looked forward to the walk back alone with Patrice, but the girl shook her head.

"I want Patrice," she said and pointed to the girl who held my heart.

Patrice gave me a pained look and I nodded.

"Come on, Abby. I'll walk you back," I offered.

Abby put the clothes down on the exam table and headed out the door. Behind us, I could hear Alice and Patrice starting to explain things to their young patient.

I didn't feel nearly as comfortable being alone with Abby. We had gotten to know each other because we worked together, and because I was spending so much time with Patrice, but Abby wasn't as outgoing as Patrice. She was just starting to open up to me, but it was slow.

As we walked, I asked, "So how are you and Trip doing?"

"You know, it's hard being so far apart," Abby told me. "You and Patrice are so lucky, getting to spend the summer together."

"Yes, but at least you will be with Trip in the fall. We'll be at different schools."

Abby gave a pained smile.

"If Ricky is still giving you a hard time, I'll talk to him," I offered.

"No need," Abby said. "I'm okay with it."

I nodded.

"He sounds like a nice guy, Trip."

"Don't trip, dear," my wife said.

I blinked, looking around. We were outside the health lodge. We had taken the same walk I had just taken in my mind.

"This was your house?" Laura asked, sounding surprised.

"No, dear. This was the first aid station. It was where you went if you got sick," I explained. I realized that I had walked right past my bunkhouse. Turning around, I led the way back.

"I stayed over here every summer," I told her as I showed them around the old building.

The door was unlocked but the outside needed paint really badly. We entered the stuffy room, finding the place much as I remembered. I showed them where my room was and explained to my daughter how the kids' bunks had been arranged.

"Let's go see the pool next," I suggested.

"I like pools, Daddy. Remember how I swam across the pool this summer, for the first time?"

"It's not that I don't want to, Tim. It's just that it's my first time, you know?" Patrice said.

I could hear the crickets outside the window. It was late but I didn't have to worry. I had talked Jim into giving me the room for the whole night. He went on an overnight canoe trip with some of the other counselors.

I was anxious to have sex with Patrice. We had been seeing each other for a few weeks, though we only really got together for weekends. During the week, we had to keep our relationship chaste for the benefit of the campers. I had even borrowed a rubber from Jim, before I had a chance to go into town and get my own box. I was ready, but I really cared about Patrice. I didn't want to just get into her pants. With her, it was more. I didn't want to rush her. A girl's first time was special. She had to feel right about it. I just hoped she started feeling right soon.

"Can we just kiss for awhile?" Patrice asked.

"Sure, hon. That sounds nice."

I sat on my bed and she sat gingerly next to me. She put one hand on the sheet, smoothing it and feeling the texture. I reached out and touched my fingers to her chin, reveling in the softness of her face. I turned her face to mine. Her eyes closed but I could see the indecision in her expression. She wanted to yet she didn't. I leaned forward and pressed my lips to hers.

We both took a deep breath as we started to kiss. We had kissed before. We had even touched each other. We just hadn't done it before. The big it. Patrice said the time wasn't right and I had waited.

I put my arm around her waist. With the other, I supported us as I tried to move her into lying down. She broke the kiss.

"No, Tim. Not yet. I just want to kiss," she said as she shook her head.

"Okay. I was just going to kiss you."

"Look. It's different for a girl. I'll never be the same again. I just want to be sure this is right."

"It's right, Patrice. It's been right. We love each other."

I meant that, especially the last part.

"I know we do. I'm just not sure I'm ready to take the next step. Maybe it will be tonight. I just need a little time."

My heart was touched by her words. I wanted her, but I wanted her to want it, too. My body was demanding something but my heart needed her to lead. Yes, it meant a lot to be her first but she had to want me to be her first. It wouldn't be worthwhile if she regretted her decision in the morning.

I kissed her, being especially careful not to move her. Patrice pulled her lips from mine.

"You don't have to do that," she said.

My face must have shown how clueless I was. She smiled.

"I'm not ready to go all the way, but it's still alright to touch me."

When I didn't move, she sighed as she picked up my hand and placed it on her breast, right over the camp logo. I pressed my hand into her firm softness, feeling the t-shirt material. As I squeezed, I felt the plastic nametag with my fingertips. Then, my eyes widened.

"You're not wearing a bra!"

Patrice giggled.

"I told you I was thinking about it."

My heart beat faster. The room suddenly felt even warmer.

"What else are you not wearing?"

"I have everything else on," she assured me. "I thought you'd like discovering that, though. I can't believe it took you so long to figure it out."

I put my other hand on the other one. I could easily feel her nipples hardening under my touch. My dick, which had been semi-hard all night, stirred.

Breathing deeply, I suggested, "Let's take off our shirts."

"Tim," admonished Patrice.

"Tim, your daughter asked you a question," Fran was saying pointedly.

"I'm sorry, dear. I was thinking about something else. What did you want to know?"

"I asked why the pool is all green and yucky," Laura said in that tone young ones use when they realize you're not paying attention to them.

"Well, dear, it's winter and the pool isn't being used. The camp looks like it's not open anymore so they probably haven't taken care of the pool in a long time. This is what happens to a pool when you don't take care of it."

"... what happens to a pool when you don't take care of it," Harold was saying.

I nodded, trying to look interested. In reality, I was hoping to run into Patrice. I wanted another chance to talk to her before the campers started arriving. They were due right after lunch.

I kept looking around, hoping to catch sight of Patrice and Abby heading back towards their cabin. I kept looking back whenever I noticed Harold looking my way.

"What're you looking for, dude?"

"Just seeing who's around," I tried to lie.

Harold smiled. "The blonde, right? She's cute."

"No, not her. She's got a boyfriend. I'm more interested in her brunette friend."

Harold nodded. "I know the one. Pat or something, right?"

About that time, I heard, "Hi, Tim." I knew that voice. My pulse quickened at the sound but I was also relieved to have an excuse to leave.

"Hi, Patrice," I said, turning to the sound. "Oh, hi, Abby," I added. "I'm going to head back to the bunkhouses. See you around, Harold."

"Later, Tim. Hi, girls," Harold said.

I ran a few steps to catch up with the girls, falling into step beside Patrice.

"Ready for this?" I asked.

"You mean the campers?" Abby asked.

"Yes, they'll be here in a few hours."

"I think we have everything ready," Patrice said. "I hope I do alright."

"You'll both do fine," I assured them. "The kids will look up to you. It will be fun."

"It's a little scary," Abby confided.

"Abby, this is a lot easier than you're imagining. The kids think you're the greatest," I assured her.

In reality, I wasn't as cool as I was trying to appear. I really wanted to make a good impression on Patrice. I liked her and I wanted to get to know her better. I was looking forward to a summer spending a lot of time with her. I hoped she felt the same way about me. I couldn't really tell yet if she did. She was friendly towards me, but so was Abby (though a little more distant). I wanted there to be more than friendship between the two of us.

"Sit with me for lunch?" Patrice asked. "I mean, us," she corrected, casting a glance at Abby. Abby just smiled.