Into the Wilderness Part 6

Into the Wilderness
Part 6

July 8, 2006

Dear Mr. Maypenny,

I know that I spoke to you just last night, but there wasn’t time to say what I needed to say. We’ve had our campers for about a week. Jim and I are in charge of six of them, and looking at them, living with them, has made me realize how lucky I am.

Mark and Denis are brothers. Mark is eleven, and Denis is nine. They lost their parents in a gang shooting two years ago. They have two brothers in jail, and a sister they haven’t seen in months. They fight with each other all the time, but if someone else attacks one of them, watch out!

Brady is nine too, and he has parents, but not very good ones. Brady is in his third foster care family. He is quiet, but then can go off like a raging volcano. Fortunately, he isn’t very big, so we’ve been able to keep him from hurting anyone.

Luis is ten. He doesn’t know who his father is, and his mother is in jail. Luis lives with his aunt sometimes, and with his grandmother the rest of the time. Sometimes, he’s out on the street. He’s tough, but of all of them, I think he is the most open to changing.

Sam is eleven, too, and he is a hoarder. Jim and I figure that Sam has probably had situations where he went without food for long periods of time, because he is always taking extra and hiding it away. We’re working with him to stop hiding pancakes--with syrup--in his pillowcase.

Khristofyr is ten too, and yes, that is how you spell his name. Kris is a big kid, five feet five and close to one-hundred-sixty pounds. Kris’ mom was doing a lot of alcohol and drugs when she was pregnant, so Kris has this kind of birth defect from all the alcohol. You have to explain everything to him at least twice, and he doesn’t have an off switch. Yesterday, he walked into the barbed wire fence, and stood there grinning at us, while bleeding all over the place. He just didn’t feel it.

Kris is how I got my camp name. On the kids’ first day here, we were getting everyone sorted out, and Kris wandered off into the corral. He does that, wander off, I mean. One minute, Kris is stroking this big bay named Buckeye; next thing I know, he hauls off and pokes Buckeye in the eye! The horse starts kicking and rearing, and the kid just stands there, grinning. Jim grabbed the kid, and I grabbed the horse. Now they call me “Cowboy”. Most of the guys call Jim “Ranger” like in Ranger Rick, because he’s so good with all the forest stuff. The assistant cook though, calls him Richie, as in Richie Rich. He doesn’t do it when Jim can hear, though, and he’s only done it in front of me once. The AC’s nickname is “Buzzard”, which is quite indicative of his rather repugnant personality. You can show Mart that last sentence; I’m sure it will make him proud.

I’ve been rambling on, because it’s hard for me to get to what I want to say. What I need to say. Mostly, it’s, “Thank you.”

I really am lucky, even though I think I don’t always think that way, not when I dwell in the dark things that have happened in my life. But really, I have been very fortunate. I had parents who loved me, and even when they were gone, I had my memories of them to keep me going. I started going the wrong way, and when I thought my life was a nightmare out of control, I found myself dropped in the middle of the woods, with you. You gave me a chance, when I didn’t think anyone ever would. You gave me safety, trust, and a place to put my head each night. Now you’ve given me something else. You’ve offered me a permanent home, and a real father again. Until you made the offer, I didn’t realize how much I wanted it.

I didn’t know what to say, when you brought it up. It really never occurred to me that you would want me for a son. I’ve had a little time to think about it, and I still have a hard time believing. But, if the offer still is on the table, I can’t think of anyone, besides my da, who I’d rather call my father.

I wrote a letter to Uncle Bill, telling him my decision, and I didn’t know if you needed more than this letter to get things started, so I added my “official” agreement to this letter.

So, assuming that the offer still holds, how should I address the next letter? Tim Mangan was my Da, so I’m not sure I could call you that. What would you like to be called? Maybe I’m jumping the gun a little, so I’ll stop now.

Thinking about home,
Your would-be son,

Daniel

Thomas Maypenny cleared his throat and carefully refolded the letter. Walking into the cabin, he picked up the phone and dialed. When the call was answered, he spoke. “Matthew, I’d like to meet with you. I need some advice about adoption proceedings.”

July 12, 1984

Jim ran his hand through his hair and shot a dismayed look at Dan. In front of him stood Kris, covered from head to toe with mud and other questionable substances. Four dusty faces looked anxiously up at the two counselors, while the sixth, and oldest of the Cabin 3 campers stared back at Dan, defiantly.

“Why, Mark?” It was Dan that spoke, the calm tone of his voice at odds with the frustration on his face. “Just tell us why you felt it necessary to treat Kris like that. He could have been hurt, Mark.”

“Nothing hurts him,” Mark said, derision staining his voice, as he dropped it to a whisper. “The big dummy doesn’t even feel things.”

“That isn’t true,” Dan told the boy, glancing toward Kris to see if he had heard the insult; Kris was oblivious. “Kris has some problems, but he’s still a human being, and he can still be hurt--both his body, and his feelings. When the horse spooked, he could have been seriously injured, maybe even killed. You’re very lucky that he slid off into the mud, and wasn’t thrown on to the rocks. Not to mention that Roxy could have hurt herself badly, too.”

Mention of the big white mare finally seemed to make a dent in Mark’s defenses. Looking at the ground, he shuffled his feet. “She’s okay, though, isn’t she? You caught her.”

“Yes, I did. She’s scratched up a bit, and I think she strained her left front leg, but it could have been worse. As it is, Kris won’t be able to ride her back home. She needs to be walked.” Dan moved closer to Mark, but was careful not to touch him. “You acted without thinking, Mark. What happened wasn’t funny. It was cruel, and it was dangerous. Tell me why.”

Mark didn’t answer. He raised his face to Dan, his gray-green eyes inscrutable. “More counseling?”

Dan nodded. “We have to tell Ted; you know that.”

The boy sighed. “I know,” he said.

“Will you apologize to Kris?” Dan asked, “and the other boys? I think you scared them.”

“Yes.” Mark shrugged. Walking over to the rest of the group, he faced his victim. “I’m sorry I spooked your horse.” Looking back at Dan, and then at Jim, he added, “You ride Chester, Kris, and I’ll walk Roxy back. I’ll take care of Roxy and your tack when we get back, too, so you can shower.”

Jim nodded his approval. “Mount up, campers. We need to hustle if we’re going to make it back in time for F.O.B.”

Cabin 3 was empty, the mutants out on a trail ride with Cowboy and Ranger--or Richie Rich, as he liked to call the millionaire’s son. Not to the redhead’s face, of course. After all, he had his position to consider.

Smirking, the man let himself into the cabin. Neat and tidy, he thought, looking around the main area. Slipping through the doorway to the counselors’ room, he found things just as ship shape. Orderly, those two. Not a wrinkle on a bed, or a piece of clothing on the floor. Methodically, he began searching the closet and built-in drawers, one at a time, shaking the clothing, and running his fingers around the edges.

He had just finished the last drawer, and was dipping into the pockets of the neatly hung pants, when he heard the sound of feet on the steps. Fading back against the closet, the man held his breath. The door opened, and he twisted his head, using the mirror on the far wall to help him see who had entered the building. The retard. He relaxed slightly. The kid was big, but as dumb as dirt. And covered in dirt, too. The man snuck another glance in the mirror. The kid looked like he’d been rolling in mud. Pressed against the wall, the man listened as the camper rummaged around the bunkroom, before heading to the showers. He waited, anxiety warring with his confidence, until he heard the shower start.

Slipping out of the counselors’ room, he took one last look around the cabin. As he stepped towards the door, he heard the bathroom door open. The kid called Kris lumbered out, half naked. Instinctively, the man grabbed a pillow from the nearest bed and swung it full force into the boy’s head. Kris went down, and the man fell upon him, holding the pillow firmly over the boy’s face. With a knee on the kid’s bare chest, the man grabbed a second pillow. He pulled off the pillowcase and worked it over the head of the struggling youngster. Flipping the boy over, he ripped open the case from the first pillow, using the strips to tie the boy’s damp hands tightly behind his back. Breathing hard, the man rose to his feet. So much for stealth, he thought, looking at the disheveled room. He aimed a kick at the prone figure before him, smirking when the toe of his shoe landed in soft belly flesh, causing the boy to cry out. Disguising his voice, he growled, “You didn’t see nothin’, did you, retard?” With another kick, he slipped out of the cabin and back to work.

Jim helped Luis lift his saddle up onto the rack, grinning as the diminutive boy stretched himself to the limit in order to hang his bit on its peg. All six of the boys in their care had impressed both Dan and Jim with their willingness to care for the horses. No matter what disagreements they might have with other aspects of camp life, no one could deny that the Cabin 3 boys excelled at animal care. Rubbing his hand lightly over Luis’ stubbly head, Jim let his eyes wander to Mark, as he led his horse, Chester, into a stall, and turned his attention to Kris’ horse, Roxy.

Mark was a conundrum. There were moments when he seemed to have no conscience at all, followed by acts of immense care and kindness. He was fiercely protective of his younger brother Denis, yet would pummel and tease the younger boy mercilessly, and without warning. It was frustrating. Dan was certain that Mark was salvageable, that his cruelty and snideness were a mask, but Jim wasn’t so sure.

“Ranger? We’re finished.”

Jim turned to see Denis and Brady, standing in front of the now clean and filled stalls. He grinned at the two boys. The nine year olds were about the same size, but as different in looks and personality, as night and day. Denis was the image of his older brother, stocky, with a rounded face, sandy blond hair and gray-green eyes. He was quiet upon meeting strangers, but warmed quickly, becoming quite the chatterbox. Brady, on the other hand, was wiry and dark complexioned, his amber brown eyes wide and wary in his narrow, pointy-chinned face. Jim wasn’t sure Brady would ever truly warm up to anyone. He held himself aloof, always watching, always waiting. Brady looked to be the perfect target for bullying, but that impression had quickly been dispelled on the second day of camp. One of the young teens from Cabin 5 had taken the pancake off of Brady’s plate, quickly stuffing it into his own mouth, and chewing loudly. Brady had laid out the older boy in two seconds flat. It had happened so quickly that no one had had a chance to react until it was over, and Dan had waded in to pull Brady off of the bigger and older boy, the nine year old screaming obscenities all the way outside. Brady, it seemed, did not bother to fight fair, and after the first incident, he was left alone.

“Why don’t you head back, then?” Jim suggested. “Luis is about done. How are you doing, Sam?”

“I...I...I’m finished with the c...cu...currying, Ranger. I j...j...just need to put Cochise in his stall.” Sam pushed a long strand of straight black hair off of his face. A few months younger than Mark, Sam was taller, and rather on the thin side. The stutter was only evident when the boy was tired, or upset. Looking into the pale blue eyes, Jim decided that it was weariness that was causing the speech impediment to surface.

“I’ll put him away for you,” Jim said. You four head on back to the cabin, clean up, and then F.O.B. Flat on your bunks. We’ll be up in a minute or two.”

“Th...thanks, Ranger.” Sam tossed the currycomb in the bucket as Jim grabbed Cochise’s lead, and started to follow the other three boys.

“Sam?” Jim asked. The boy turned, waiting. Jim reached into one of his saddlebags, pulling out an apple. “Here,” he said, tossing the fruit to Sam. “In case you need a snack.” Sam caught the apple, grinned his thanks, and scooted out the door.

“Do you think he’ll eat it?” Dan’s voice was low, as he moved closer to Jim.

“Maybe.” Jim shrugged. “At least he has it, if he wants it. It might keep him from wandering off, looking for food.”

“Or sneaking dried fruit into his sneakers.” Dan shook his head, remembering with disgust, the day he had discovered Sam eating raisins he had hidden in the loose lining of his well-worn shoes.

“It’s a matter of trust, at least that’s what Dr. Martiana said.” Jim closed the door behind Cochise. “If Sam trusts that we’ll keep him fed, he’ll stop the hoarding and sneaking out to get food.”

“I know.” Dan rubbed a hand through his hair, and turned his attention back to Mark, who was busy rubbing down Roxy. “Why don’t you head on up to the cabin, while I help Mark dress those scratches?”

“Adding veterinary medicine to your resume, Cowboy Dan?” Jim inquired.

Dan shrugged. “Roxy’s not in too bad of shape, all things considered, but J.J. will be turning them all out after dinner. It would be best if she had some salve on those scratches, and some ointment on the leg before she hits the pasture.”

“Are you going to have him use the smelly ointment?” Jim asked with a grin.

“The stinkier the better, right?” Dan shrugged again. “I know Uncle Bill considers mustard plaster a deterrent.”

“Your uncle is evil, pure evil,” Jim’s grin broadened. “And you are just like him.”

“Thank you. Thank you very much.” Dan bowed with a flourish. “We’ll be up in a few minutes, and you might want to clear the shower for Mark.”

Jim laughed as he left the stable, shaking his head and muttering, “Evil. Just evil.”

“Ranger!” Jim looked up just in time to catch Denis as he came running pell-mell down the footpath.

“Whoa! What’s wrong?”

Panting, the boy sputtered, “Kris. Someone...hurt Kris. Tied him...up.”

“Where?”

“In...the cabin.” Denis gestured wildly.

“What about the others?” Jim’s mind was racing.

“Trying to untie Kris. I came to find you and Cowboy.”

“You did a good job, Denis.” Jim squeezed the boy’s shoulder. “I want you to go down to the stable and tell Da...uh...Cowboy. Then you and Mark go find Ted and have him bring the nurse. Got that?”

Denis nodded, and took off toward the stables. Jim broke into a run, headed for Cabin 3.

Bursting through the door, he nearly ran over the huddle of boys. Kris was lying on his side, tears making muddy tracks down his dusty face. Luis patted Kris’ shoulder in an awkward attempt to give comfort, while Sam struggled with the tightly knotted fabric imprisoning Kris’ hands. Brady sat, watching, his face set, his hands worrying a dirty pillowcase.

“What happened?” Jim gently pushed Sam aside, his strong fingers working the knots binding Kris.

“Don’t know,” Brady said shortly, his hands still playing with the pillowcase. “We came in and Kris was here, but he had this on his head.” He held up the pillowcase. “Kris ain’t said much, just that he hurts.”

Jim nodded his thanks to Brady, and spoke calmly to Kris. “I’ve almost got the knots undone, buddy. Just another minute, okay?” He continued working the fabric, but it was well and truly tied, taking a lot of concentration and effort.

Dan charged through the door, out of breath and obviously worried. “What happened?” he demanded, his eyes sweeping the scene. Dropping to his knees, he pulled out his pocketknife and handed it to Jim. “Try this, his hands are turning blue.”

“Thanks.” Jim slid the longest blade under the biggest knot and sawed upward, away from Kris’ skin. “Those knots were tough.” The fabric gave way with a soft tearing sound, releasing the boy. Dan reached for Kris, pulling the large lump into a sitting position, resting the boy against his chest and rubbing one of his blue tinged hands, while Jim rubbed at the other. As circulation returned to his numb hands, Kris began to sob.

“It’s going to be all right,” Dan assured the bawling child. “You’re free. No one is going to hurt you now, Kris. We’re going to make sure of that.”

“Brady, get us some tissue, okay?” Jim suggested. “Sam, could you get Kris a drink of water?”

They jumped to the tasks, leaving Luis looking eagerly at Jim. “What about me, Ranger? What can I do?”

“Uh...” Jim looked at Dan, rocking Kris. “Uhm...why don’t you step out on to the porch and let us know when you see Mark and Denis coming with Ted and the nurse.”

“Okay!” Luis sprang into action, happy to have a job.

Jim turned his attention back to Kris, taking a wad of toilet tissue from Brady, and using it to wipe tears and snot from the injured boy’s face. “Did you see who did this to you Kris?” he asked gently.

“No.” Kris closed his eyes and shook his head.

“What did he do?” Dan asked the question this time.

“Hit me,” Kris whispered, his tears slowing. “Hit my face with the pillow and knocked me down. Pushed it on my face and tied me up. Then he kicked my tummy. It hurts.”

“Did he say anything?” Jim looked Kris over, noticing the red marks on his belly.

Tears welled up in Kris’ tip-tilted brown eyes. “He called me retard. I’m not a retard, am I?” The tears spilled over, making fresh streaks down his plump face.

“No, Kris.” Dan assured him quietly, as Luis yelped and moved aside, letting in Mark, Denis, Ted and Nurse Redmond. “You’re not a retard. You’re our buddy. Cabin 3 boys stick together.”

As he spoke, Dan raised his eyes to meet Mark’s. Mark looked at Kris, and then at his brother, before he returned his gaze to Dan. As Dan handed Kris over to Nurse Redmond, Mark stepped forward, taking charge of the younger boys. “F.O.B, guys,” he ordered. Let Mrs. Redmond do her thing. Go!”

Jim watched, a little surprised, as the four boys obeyed, each one taking to his bunk. He had to smile, though, as each one turned so he could see what was happening with Kris.

Ted gestured for Jim and Dan to join him on the porch. “What happened?”

Dan sighed. “Mark spooked the horse Kris was riding, and Kris ended up in the mud. When we got back, Mark offered to take care of the horse, so Kris could come shower. Evidently, someone was in the cabin, and Kris surprised him. The guy jumped him, tied him up, and kicked him a few times. Sam, Luis, Brady and Denis found him like that. Denis came to get us.”

“He had a pillowcase over his head,” Jim added. “That’s what Brady said. The boys pulled it off, but they couldn’t untie the knots.” He grimaced. “I couldn’t untie the knots either. We had to cut him free.”

“He doesn’t know who it was?” Ted asked. Jim shook his head.

“The guy called him a retard.” Dan shook his head. “It wasn’t enough he assaulted the kid, he has to call him names, too. It had to be someone who knows Kris. Someone who knows that he’s...you know...a little slow.”

“Do you think it was another camper? Maybe Kris interrupted a robbery attempt?” Ted removed his glasses and rubbed at his eyes. “Don’t answer that. I’m just thinking out loud.” He slid his glasses back onto his face. “Look, we’re going to take Kris back to the infirmary for the night, just to make sure he’s okay. I need you boys to check your things, make sure nothing was taken. If anything is missing, you let me know.”

“Yes, sir.” Jim hesitated. “I don’t think we should let the kids go anywhere alone right now. I know that we’re trying to encourage their independence and self reliance, but...”

“You’re exactly right,” Ted agreed. “What Daniel said in there was right. You need to stick together until we figure out what is going on. Buddy system all the way, sounds good to me. If you need anything from Dr. Martiana, just ask.”

“Yes, sir,” they chorused, as Billy drove up in the camp van.

“Your chariot awaits,” the blond man quipped, as he mounted the steps. “Where’s the patient?”

“Inside,” Ted answered. “I appreciate you bringing up the van, Bill. Once we get our camper down to the infirmary, feel free to go.”

“I will!” Bill said jovially. “When you only get a day off every two weeks, you hate to miss a minute. Let’s get the kid in the car and the show on the road. He’s not going to puke or anything, is he?”

“He hasn’t so far,” Ted answered soberly. “This is mostly a precaution.”

“What happened to him? I thought he was just sick.”

“Someone jumped him,” Ted explained. “We’ll be having a meeting as soon as you get back. I’m afraid we could have a serious problem here.”

Billy quirked an eyebrow. “Reeeeeeeeaaaaalllllly?” he drawled. “A serious problem? That Kris kid, he’s not so sharp, you know? Are you sure he didn’t just fall?”

“I’m pretty sure he didn’t tie his own hands behind his back!” Jim snapped, irritated by Billy’s lack of compassion. The Assistant Camp Director sometimes got on his nerves.

Billy’s eyes narrowed at Jim’s outburst, but his voice was laid back as he apologized, “Sorry, dude, I didn’t know. I guess I was just hoping it was nothing serious.” He turned his attention to Ted. “I’ll be back after supper tomorrow. We’ll strategize then, okay?”

They moved inside to retrieve Kris. Dan stepped closer to Jim, watching silently as the van carrying Ted, Billy, Mrs. Redmond and Kris made its way slowly down to the main building. Gripping Jim’s shoulder, Dan said, “His attitude gets on my nerves, too. Guy’s an ass.”

Jim laughed. “Watch your language, Cowboy. There are children in the vicinity.”

“True,” Dan conceded. “But I know for a fact that three of them curse better than I do.”

They were both chuckling as they returned inside.

Homefront 5
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Wilderness 7