Camp Pleasant (7 page)

“Jesus Christ,” I heard Bob mutter slowly.

“Well …” I swallowed. “He’s got him. Right where he wants him.”

We stood in silence a moment.

“What’ll we do?” Bob asked then. “Go back to our—”

“No,” I broke in. “I want to see it. I want to remember.”

Without a word, Bob followed me along the shore and up toward the edge of the clearing where the cabin was that slept the craft shop counselors, the kitchen help and Merv.

As we approached the clearing edge, we saw the cabin light flare on and the loud complaints of the sleepy counselors. Complaints which were cut off instantly when they saw a lake-dripping Merv Loomis grabbing a towel from a coat hanger and Ed Nolan framed in the doorway.

“What’s up?” I heard Mick Curlerman ask in a thin voice.

Ed paid no attention. “Come on, get your clothes on, boy,” he ordered as Merv hastily dried himself.

“I have to—”

“Boy, you heard me,” Ed told him. “You better be out o’ here in time.”

Merv’s face was terrible in the bald cabin light. I’d never seen him without his glasses before; his eyes had that strange cast badly myopic eyes have in the absence of glasses. There was no color in his face except for purplish-looking lips. I thought he was sick for a moment until I realized that he’d been forced to walk naked and wet in the cold night air. I noticed for the first time how badly he shivered.

“Snap it up,” Ed ordered. Merv dressed quickly, his lips pressed together, his eyes looking fixedly at the floor.

“And what’s
that
, Loomis?” Ed Nolan demanded, pointing his flashlight toward Merv’s bunk.

Merv’s terrycloth bathrobe and Merv’s towel.

“You wore it down to the lake, hanh?” Ed sneered. “I always knew you were a damn
liar.”

Merv stared blankly at the bathrobe. “But—” His cheek twitched. “I swear to God I—”

“Never mind,” Ed snapped, “I’m not interested. Come on, come on, get dressed!”

“I tell you I wore that bathrobe down to the lake!”

“And I said get dressed!”

Merv shook badly as he finished putting on his clothes but no more than I did. It made my stomach turn to stand there looking at his confused expression as he dressed in jerky, erratic motions.

“Son-of-a-bitch” I heard Bob whisper, almost in a gasp.

Merv finished putting on a sweater and looked up dazedly at Ed.

“Awright, get your stuff together,” Ed told him.

“But how—”

“Loomis, I’m not here t’argue with ya. Either you get your stuff out o’ here or I will.”

The scene went on, endless in its horror, silent except for the creak of the floor boards as Merv moved around nervously, pulling clothes off hangers, folding them hastily, putting them into his trunk.

“Come on, come on,” Ed said impatiently, “I ain’t got all night.”

“I’m trying as—”

“Never mind the lip. Just
pack.”

Merv finished packing.

“Awright,” Ed said. “Pick it up and let’s go.”

Merv stared at him blankly. “But I can’t,” he said. “It’s too—”

“Ya want it tossed in the lake!” Ed snapped.

Merv bent over the trunk, his lips pressed together tightly. He tried to lift the big trunk but he couldn’t. He managed to get one corner up but even that slipped. He looked up in fright as Ed Nolan cursed loudly and lunged into the cabin. Then he backed off as Ed grabbed up the trunk as if it were a small, empty suitcase. Ed spun on sneakered soles and banged through the doorway, ordering over his shoulder, “Grab the rest of your things and come on!”

“What are you going to do with my trunk?” Merv asked in a panicky voice but Ed didn’t answer.

Sid went up the steps and into the cabin. “He’s just taking it up to the road, Loomis,” he said.

“But he said—”

“I know, I know,” Sid said quickly. “He won’t though. Come on, let’s go.”

I stood there numbly watching Sid help Merv gather up the rest of his things—a duffle bag of clothes, a small suitcase, a portable typewriter and some books. I saw how he avoided Merv’s eyes, I saw how his mouth was as tight and thin as Merv’s. Then they were out of the cabin and, as Merv started up the path, Sid turned in the doorway.

“Listen,” he told them in a quick, clipped voice, “I don’t want a word of this to get out, do you understand? Anyone who talks out of turn will have me on his tail the rest of the season. I’m not kidding.”

He snapped off the lights and went down the steps quickly, then around the cabin and up the path toward the road.

We didn’t say anything or plan anything but, as if it were prearranged, Bob and I moved off and started along the patch of woods that sides the path. Before we reached the road, I heard a loud, crunching sound and knew that it was Ed tossing down the trunk on the pavement.

“Awright,” we heard him say, “now get outta my camp and
stay
out.”

“What about my s-salary?” Merv asked.

“You’ll get your check when the time comes,” Ed said disgustedly. “Now clear out.” His voice became sickeningly cute. “Or maybe you want t’kiss your
boy
friends good-bye first.”

Merv’s long face turned to stone.

“You
muck-minded swine,”
he said slowly and clearly, the words dripping like acid. “Is there anything but utter filth in that mind of—”

He broke off nervously and backed away as Ed started forward.

“I’d take that back,” he said, “
queer.”

“Why
should
I?” Merv asked, his scorn weakened. “I don’t work for you any more, remember?”

“Ya gonna apologize?” The sound in Ed Nolan’s voice was terrifying.

“No, I’m not!” Merv backed off more.

It happened too quickly for Sid to prevent it. One second Merv was edging away from Ed, the next second Ed had him by the right arm and was driving a bunched fist into his face. A stunned gasp of pain burst from Merv as he went flailing back, fell over his trunk and landed on the pavement heavily. Ed moved at him again but Sid caught his arm.

“Ed, for God’s sake!”

“Let go my arm!” Ed cried in a mindless, croaking voice. “No goddam queer’s gonna talk t’me like that!”

“Ed, you’ll
kill
him!”

“I said—
let go!”
He flung off Sid and lunged forward again toward Merv who was trying to struggle to his feet.

“Ed!” Sid yelled.

But Ed was already dragging up Merv by the arm again. Merv cried out in fright, then the cry changed to a choking gasp as Ed drove a fist into his stomach. He doubled over with a retching gag but Ed jerked up his head by the hair.

“Apologize!” he said in a voice no longer human. “Apologize,
queer
, or I’ll break every bone in your damn body!”

I didn’t know what was holding me back until I felt Bob’s hand clutching at my shirt. The pounding in my ears fell enough for me to hear him whispering feverishly, “Don’t be a
fool!
You can’t do any good! He’ll just throw
you
out too!”

I think I would have torn loose except that Sid had Ed by the arm again now and was pulling him away from the slumped-over Merv. “Come on, Ed! For God’s sake!”

Ed, not even listening, was talking to Merv in a gutteral, animal-like voice, saying, “You stay away from my camp, ya hear me, ya goddam queer?” You come back here, I’ll kill ya. I’ll kill ya.” “Come on, Ed.” Sid tugging on his beefy arm. “Not gonna have any damn pervert in
my
camp. Not
my
camp. My job is to take care o’ my boys, that’s my
job.”

“All right, Ed, all right. He’s going. He’s going.” We stood there silently until the sound and sight of them had disappeared into the night. Then we moved out to where Merv was sitting on his trunk, bent over, gasping for air.

I remember how the moonlight came out just as we reached him. I remember how he looked up in terror at the sound of our footsteps, I remember the cold light bathing his contorted face, revealing the dark thread of blood dribbling down from his right nostril, the tense parting of his lips around gritted teeth, the almost deranged look in his eyes.

“It’s all right, Merv,” I said. “It’s just us.”

He stared at us a long moment, then, as I put my hand on his shoulder, a sob broke in his throat, a sob of wretched, broken will.

“Did you
see
it?” he asked, brokenly. “Did you see what he did to me? The
filthy swine!”

“Take it easy, Merv,” I said. “He’s insane.”

“Insane.” He muttered it after me. “He
is
insane. He should be p- put away.”

We helped him up and Bob handed him his glasses which were cracked on the right lens. “You should make him pay for this,” Bob said in a thin, strengthless voice.

“He’ll pay for it,” Merv said, but I don’t think he was talking about the glasses. He was still sucking in air fitfully, one hand pressed to his stomach.

“Take it easy, Merv.” I said again. “It’s all right.”

“The swine. The
swine
.” Another sob he couldn’t hold.

“Do you have any place to go, Merv?” I asked.

He stood on the moon-white road, his thin chest rising and falling jerkily, his dazed eyes staring at the camp.

“He should be put away,” he said in a hollow voice. “The
dirty, filthy-minded—”

He broke off with a liquid coughing, then closed his eyes and gasped as a spasm of pain struck his stomach. I caught his arm and braced him as he bent over, making pitiful little sounds of pain.

“It’s all right, Merv,” I said, “all right.”

Finally he straightened up, white-faced, breathing heavily.

“All right,” he said hoarsely, “I’m all right. Thank you. Thank you.”

“Merv, what about it?” I asked.
“Have
you any place to go?”

He stared at me, his lips still trembling. He sniffed to stop the bleeding from his nose.

Then he said, “I’ll be all right,” and turned away.

I started after him and caught his arm. “Merv, where are you
going?

“I’m quite all right, thank you. Leave me alone.” His voice was as even as he could make it. “I’ll be all right.”

“But where are you going?”

“I don’t know. Back to the city, I guess. I don’t know. I’ll be all right. Just leave me alone.”

“Merv, maybe Jackie will help you,” I heard myself blurting.

He stopped short and glanced over his shoulder. I sensed the questions in his mind. But he didn’t ask them. He turned away and started walking again.

“Merv, what about your things?”

He broke stride again, halted. “I’ll … well, will you … will you put them somewhere?” he asked. “I … anywhere, anywhere. I’ll have someone pick them up. I’ll—”

He broke off and started walking quickly up the road, drawing out a handkerchief and dabbing at his nose. Bob came up beside me and we stood there watching him go. I didn’t know whether to run after him or not. He sounded as if he knew what he were doing yet, moments before, he’d been sobbing. We watched his long, ungainly form dwindle down the road that ran like a silvered ribbon between the black woods on either side. The black woods of Camp Pleasant.

Breakfast babble sank to a chatter, a hum, then died out completely. I looked up from my scrambled eggs and saw Ed Nolan standing at his table, across his face the expression he wore on occasions of gravity.

“This won’t take long,” he began. “I’m just gettin’ up t’tell ya there’s not gonna be any more hikes for a while.”

A rumbling of disappointed complaints from the cabins whose hike days were coming up. Big Ed lifted beefy arms.

“Awright, aright,” he ordered. “Quiet down.” They quieted. “The reason is because the hiking leader quit on us last night.”

A surprised buzzing. Scrambled eggs turning to scrambled lead in my stomach. My slapped-down fork made a loud clinking noise in the momentary silence that followed Ed’s raised arms but no one seemed to notice it. I pushed my plate away and glanced over at Bob. His face was a mask of unrepressed disgust.

“Him quittin’ came as a surprise t’me,” claimed Ed Nolan. “But that’s the way it goes with jokers like that. Y’can’t never trust ‘em.”

I looked at Sid. His head was bent forward a little and he was staring at his plate.

Big Ed threw on the mantle of good-fellowship.

“Anyway—” he said as though pushing aside all uncharitable thoughts as unworthy of himself—”that’s not here or there. When ya run a camp, ya take the good with the bad. So I guessed wrong. Okay. I’m the first one to admit it when I make a mistake. But that’s not important. The important thing is I’m here t’look after you boys—” exorbitantly gestured finger—”and that’s just what I’m gonna do. Now. I’ve sent a wire t’the board asking them t’send up a new hike counselor
right away
. In the meantime, though, we’ll try t’find someone to take over the hikes soon
as we can. Is that fair enough?”
Magnamimous raising of voice and arms.

“Yeah, Ed.”
“Sure
, Ed!” Applause.

In three days, Mick Curlerman was to be assigned to hikes with Sammy Wrazalowsky taking over the Craft Shop. Then, following the Counselor Takeoffs, Sammy Wrazalowsky (fresh from his triumph as the belly-bulging Big Ed) was to be found wanting in managerial know- how and demoted to ring-making again with Bill Beuchre (wood crafts) taking over the shop. No wire was ever sent to the board requesting a new counselor. I learned it from Doc Rainey some time later.

Tony was sitting on the edge of his cot looking at a comic book.

“Howdy, lowlife,” I greeted him.

He looked up.
“Hi-
ya, Matt!” That wide, face-halving smile I like so much. “I been waitin’.”

“Wait no more,” I said. “Let’s go.”

He grabbed his bat from the cot and got up. “Oh, boy, am I gonna have a game o’ball
t’day
!
“

I placed the restraint of a weary hand on his shoulder. I removed the monstrous bat from his hand. “Now, look,” I said, “there is to be no ball playing, no lake ducking, no fishing, no hiking, no strenuous activity of any sort until your stitches heal.
You understand me?”

“Awww,
Matt.”