When you least expect it. Who would have thought that his greatest danger would confront him after returning from the deep dark woods, as he sat in the parking lot waiting for his parents to pick him up. They were too late.
Once on the bus, they made the long exodus out of the concrete jungle maze of the northwest suburbs of Chicago. Not soon enough, but finally, they were out on the road and headed north into Wisconsin for his first two-week stint at Boy Scout camp. A big deal at 12 years old.
As they moved on to lesser known roads, the pack of badges started singing together at the request of the head badge. He just leaned against the window and stared out at the large welcoming pine trees that lined the road and led deep into where he wanted to be.
The Indians were so cool. They were either, young, strong, and fast, or old, steady, and wise. They were focused, reverent, and completely respected by all the young tenderfeet. Whereas, his white, overweight, middle class scoutmasters barked out orders endlessly, and were, if possible, ignored or avoided.
After all the things that camp is, were done, they headed back to “civil-i-zation.” The bus pulled away after dropping all the scouts and duffle bags off to the greeting parents in the parking lot of a movie theatre. Warm wrap- a- rounds were happening left and right. As the cars pulled away, with one scout after another sitting in back seats showing off their merit badges to little brothers, he sat down on the curb and waited. It was a different time then, and the scoutmaster left after being assured that “he had a ride.”
Quiet now, as he sat, arms wrapped around his knees, chin resting in the crevice. He was all alone now. Suddenly a car approached. As it pulled up alongside him he saw it was full of older boys. He clutched his duffle as he saw them stick a hose out the window and turn on a portable water cannon. He sat there as they blasted him for about a minute or so until he was completely drenched. Then they drove away, laughing loudly.