Marc returns to camp

After Anat’s successful bridal shower, Marc borrowed Alana’s car and went up to camp. Marc was very worried about some of the campsites. The clowns that run this place, who call themselves professionals really screwed up.

Marc had to make sure the property was safe. Plus, he needed time in his old leanto, the lake and dining hall. If only his favorite latrine still stood. He would go pray by the tip pan. That’s all that’s left of the social center of his youth.

Marc pulled into the parking lot. The gate leading into the camp was closed. That never stopped anyone. He parked and climbed over the small chain. He hiked past the dining hall and ballfield. It was grown in. They couldn’t play softball or their special version of Ultimate Frisbee on it. He made a note to have the grass cut next time he came. He figured he and Alana could do it with their powers.

He saw some deer by path near the ‘ole campsite that an almost famous musician used to run. He stopped for a moment and searched his vaulted aisles of memory. Marc looked at his phone and say a what’s up text from Alana. He replied all was well. He was hiking up to his campsite. He planned on spending the night in his leanto. He had some food in his backpack. He’d light a cooking fire when he got to his spot.

Marc went to his leanto and placed his belongings in it. He walked over to the lake and jumped in. The water was cooling down. He swam for about an hour. He exited the lake and walked to the site of the waterfront his leader used when he was a kid. The docks were gone. But Marc knew where it was. There was a special pipe where the docks used to be. Marc took a look at the pipe and smiled. He jumped into to that section of the lake. He got out and walked to his site.

He lit the fire and started cooking his steak. He planned to bake brownies. The remains of a Dutch over were still in the site. It has been there for over three decades. He remembers when a kid lost the Dutch oven bakeoff and cried for days. Oh well.

Marc was expecting to be alone for the weekend. He played U2, Depeche Mode and the Psychedelic Furs. He was enjoying his steak when he heard noises. He looked around. He saw nothing.

He went back to his steak and Genny Cream Ale. He felt good. All of a sudden, he heard the cry of the mighty buffalo. He didn’t think the Woodsman was going to pay him a visit this time. He figured it had to be him. He was honored. He was ready.

Silently he approached Marc. He picked up a Genny and started drinking. Marc rose in his honor. The Woodsman smiled. He looked at Marc and smiled. He began to speak. Marc’s ears were ready.

“Marc, you did well at the Boathouse. Jay must be stopped. He will confront you again. Alana will be by your side. I’ve been watching you since our last meeting. She will always be by your side and you by hers. Before you leave this site, you must clean the side of the hill. The bozos that run this place have made a mess. When you’re done you must drink a glass of milk. When you’re done go look for a red bucket. I think you know what it’s used for. You will find answers to your next struggle in it.”

Marc remembered the legend of the bucket. It was started by a dear friend, uncle and leader. He and Marc’s leader ruled the camp back in the day. He felt their presence as the Woodsman and his herd of buffalo disappeared in the woods.

Originally published at http://mitchellthoughtsblog.wordpress.com on September 19, 2021.