Camp

Bunkers

Jack's POV

I'm so glad that the food here actually seems to be good - that means that I won't starve over the summer.

I glance down at the tiny slip of paper in my hand with the name of my cabin and some vague directions along with a miniature map of the cabin area.

"Bunkers" I read aloud, then scoff to myself "what kind of cabin name is that?"

I slip the piece of paper back in my pocket and grab my bag before heading off in what I think is the general direction of my cabin. I take in the walls of wood lining the walkway, trying to assess the layout of each cluster of cabins.

Dust swirls as I trudge along the path, looking for the only pair of cabins (hence the name Bunkers rather than Bunker). 

"Deus meus (My god)" I groan as I stop to wipe off my glasses.

These people just don't know how to pick up their feet.

I continue on with a clearer view of my surroundings and soon find the two secluded cabins.  I drag my belongings up the small stoop in front of the east cabin before pushing on the door.

It doesn't budge.

I push again while simultaneously twisting the knob and the door suddenly swings open.  As I drag my things inside, I take in the dusty surroundings and realize that this place probably hasn't really been touched since the end of last summer. I take in a deep breath and immediately pinch my nose - something slightly stinks in here, like something crawled into a corner and died.

Since I am the first one here, I decide that I get first pick on beds.  I walk around, inspecting each bunk looking for the cleanest one (and the one farthest away from the bad smell).  I finally choose the left bottom bunk, wiping off the thin layer of dust with one of my towels.

Now I won't be forced to try to sleep up high.

After spreading out my stuff on the bed, I stand up to open the one window on this side of the cabin.  A light breeze sweeps through the room, swirling more dust.  I hear the doorknob begin rattle as I return to sit on my bunk. After it shakes for well over a minute, I rise from my cross-legged position to help the poor person open the sticky door.

The door suddenly swings open, nearly hitting me in the face.

"Ah fuck!" the blond haired boy yelps when he sees me.

I just stare at him with a slightly confused expression.

"Hey, I'm Luke" he breathes, extending a hand.

I reach out to shake his hand, "I know, I'm Jack-"

"-Shit" he grumbles, yanking his hand back before looking back up, "Sorry. That door gave me a fucking splinter."

I smile to keep myself from laughing, "It sure is a tough one".

Luke nods, wandering over to the sleeping area while picking at his finger.

"I assume first come, first serve?"

"Yes, I-"

"Goddammit, yes! I gotchu motherfucker!"

"Excuse me?"

"I'm not talking to you, Jack - I'm talking about this stupid splinter."

"Oh"

He sighs, throwing his stuff down before sitting on the bottom bunk across form me.

"Is it just me..." he asks, looking up from his hand, "or does it smell-"

"-like something crawled in a corner and died? Yes." I nod, turning back toward my bunk.

Only then do I see Jonah nervously standing in the doorway looking like he just got called on to go eat a puffer fish or something.

"You okay there, Jonah?" I ask, taking a step toward him.

He startles back out of his trance, looking directly at me before looking away again.

"Yeah... um... sure I guess" he breathes out.

Luke flops back on his bed, "You look like you just saw an animal die".

Jonah swings himself up onto the bunk above mine, and for a moment I am jealous of his athletic ability.

"Yeah, it's nothing" he dismisses, crossing is legs, "So, is it just me..."

"... or does it smell like something just died? Yes." Luke and I say in unison.

"No, I was gonna ask if y'all though the food was better than you thought it was going to be?"

"It was pretty good" I agree before sinking into my bed.

I didn't realize how tired I was.

I zone out while Luke and Jonah continue to talk.

"Whoa! When did you get here?" Jonah suddenly asks, bringing me back from the edge of sleep.

I turn to see Noah standing in the doorway.

He smiles quietly, pointing at the clock before moving to put his stuff on the top bunk above Luke.

He's been here for 15 minutes.

And didn't make a sound.

I watch as continues to unpack, ignoring Luke staring at him like he's trying to figure out if he knows him from somewhere or not.

Jonah pauses for a moment, before continuing his conversation about something related to breakfast. He tries to include Noah in the conversation, but he continues not to talk.

I thought he was just being shy at lunch.

I see Noah write something down, before turning to face us. He looks around, then climbs down from his bunk and hands a note to me.

I guess he wants me to read it.

I clear my throat and adjust my glasses before peering down at the note, "Noah says: I don't talk. EVER. So please stop trying to talk to me. It's never going to work, and you can't make me."

I look up to see him biting his lip, almost like he just realized how rude the note sounded.

"Um... okaaaay..." Jonah fills, unsure what to do with the silence.

"Can you not talk?" Luke asks.

Noah shakes his head, talking the note from me and writing on the back before handing it to Luke.

"I can talk, I just choose not to. No more questions please." Luke reads, before looking up.

Noah nods, before turning away and climbing back up to his bunk.

I sit there for a moment trying to figure out why he doesn't talk. Does he not like the sound of his voice? Does he have a sever lisp or speech impediment?

I've never heard of someone who willingly chose to completely stop talking.

I look down at my watch, "Well, its time to go the activity."

I close the door behind us before walking back down the dirt path toward the cafeteria.

This is camp is going to be interesting.

💠

Hey guys. It's been awhile.

I hope you like this chapter of Camp :)

And just a reminder....

Love, not hate.

Understanding, not isolation.

Peace, not war.

Best,

ATCAgainstTheCurrent

(P.S. I finished writing this while listening to Chillhop - it's so relaxing.)