Camp Journal

"It's zero five hundred "muscle man!" Room inspection in one hour!
That will give you time for chow, a shower and a hundred pushups! Great
day to be in the Corps! Look lively there "muscles."

As quickly as the lights came on and as the thundering voice faded my
head found that sweet spot on my pillow again. If only my arm was 6
inches longer I could reach the lights without having to get out of
bed! Sleep! I need more sleep! Doesn't he realize that most people
sleep until 6 or 6:30 on school days? Especially guys like me who are
serious about weight training and making the football team. Why do we
have to get up at "zero five hundred" every Thursday? Inspection? Did
he say inspection? I got to get this room cleaned up! I hopped out of
bed and began the drudgery of getting dressed and cleaning my room.
Well, if the truth were told I was just stuffing things inside the
closet&;#8230; "Please, don't let him look in there!" I ran out of
hiding space in the closet and decided to use the space under the
bed&;#8230;hey, good idea I thought, right? Anyway, I stuffed as
much stuff under the bed as I could and then I heard a rattle. Thought
I better check it out and when I looked and saw the old shoebox my
first thought was "What is this doing down here?" and then I remembered
what the contents were&;#8230;hey, I still had 30
minutes&;#8230;surely that's enough time for a quick review of the
old stash. When I opened it up and saw sitting right on top the diary
from my first trip to Falls Creek I almost started to laugh out
loud&;#8230;but I knew "Colonel Clean" would know I was up to
something. I opened the journal, and noticed how long ago that summer
seemed&;#8230;my writing was full of doodles and side notes and
short thoughts&;#8230;memories came flooding back to me as I
reviewed the very detailed journal&;#8230;it wasn't long before I
let myself travel back in time to a place where time stands still and
light moves so slow you can taste it and God speaks through the
trees&;#8230;

Your probably thinking that it's unusual for a boy to keep a diary and
highly unusual for anyone especially a boy to keep a diary while at
summer camp. Well, your right&;#8230;sort of. Except that this
wasn't an ordinary camp and the diary was a promise&;#8230;a
"grandma promise." Grandma and I were talking before camp, well,
actually, grandma was talking and I was listening. She always has these
"ideas" these "suggestions"&;#8230;brother, let me tell you when
grandma starts to something like, "Well, now I've been thinking about
you a lot lately and I have a great idea for something you
should&;#8230;" Run. Walk briskly. Crawl. Fake a kidney
stone&;#8230;anything&;#8230;just get away and get away fast!
Wish I had taken my own advice before her "big plan" for my summer
vacation. The plan included a trip back to a small town in Oklahoma and
to a camp that she went to and my parents went to and I guess all self
respecting people have gone to for the past 100 years. Needless to say
my summer was ruined&;#8230;or so I thought.

Grandma knew that I wouldn't keep my promise all by myself. So she did
what all grandma's do when their grandsons need their
help&;#8230;she went on the trip with our group! I could have died.
Any "pull" I had with the babes was gone, all my guy friends felt so
bad for me they didn't even mention it&;#8230;but I overheard two of
them talking in the bathroom about it. "Man, how would you like it if
your grandma came on this trip with you?" No way, dude, I'd rather go
to summer school than have my grandma at summer camp! David is taking
it pretty good but you got to know he's dying! Poor
smuck&;#8230;maybe we ought to leave him off the short sheeting list
for tonight?"

"Yeah, he deserves a break."

After hearing the guys talk about me, I decided my social life was
pretty much done&;#8230;stick a fork in me&;#8230;even the guys
are having mercy on me. Might as well keep this stupid "journal" I
promised grandma I would keep.

I keep hearing her voice, "It's not a diary and you will thank me many
times in the future for having kept this journal." Yeah, grandma,
sure.

The evening church service was starting in a few minutes and I almost
had finished sketching out my cabin in my journal. Actually, I wanted
to memorize where everybody slept and the layout of the cabin in case
of a "raid" from a nearby group. One can never be too
prepared&;#8230;another fine trait I've acquired from living with
"General Patton" for 13 years. I decided to make the best of this
camping experience and I was hoping that tonight's meeting would give
me some insight on how best to proceed. I mean when your at rock bottom
you have no place to go but up and the possibilities are endless. I was
formulating some strategies when I noticed a group of girls walking to
the covered chapel&;#8230;there was an angel among them. She was
incredibly beautiful. OK, I admit, she is way out of my league but like
I was saying&;#8230;what do I have to lose?

The service started on time&;#8230;I was still hanging around
outside in the back trying to find out where "the babe" was sitting
when one of the counselors told me to go inside and sit down. Of
course, like all seasoned teenagers I sat where the view was best and
the escape was fastest. Back row, right by the exit. Row 75, left
center section. Dually recorded in my trusty journal. Dad would be
proud of my attention to detail but grandma wants more "feeling" to
emerge from my writing. She want's me to write what I see with my eyes
and my heart. Easier said than done when your at "Camp Geeksville" with
no reputation and your grandma tagging along. Oh well, the music is
pretty hip and the babes so far have proven to be pretty
abundant&;#8230;but I still can't find "The babe." Then it happened.
I felt a chill, quickly followed by a gruff voice&;#8230; "Move it
or lose it punk!" I turned and saw the meanest looking dude I've ever
seen. Leather, tattoos, chains, and black makeup&;#8230;illegal
smoke breath&;#8230;wicked looking "fighting rings" on each hand and
some serious stomping boots.

My dad taught me well&;#8230;."When faced with an adversary that
obviously has the immediate tactical advantage&;#8230;there is no
shame in retreating to another more defendable position." In other
words, I scooted down the row pretty quick! I'm pretty sure the large
older gentleman with him was his parole officer in plain
clothes&;#8230;at least he had the decency not to wear his uniform.
Hey, why couldn't grandma have done that? I don't mean not wear a
uniform but come incognito&;#8230;you know, don't run around
bragging about me and my ability to write poetry, and other highly
embarrassing stuff. All of this was dutifully recorded in my secret
short hand code in my journal. Never know when I might be captured and
the journals secrets can't be lost to the other side&;#8230;

I had just noticed that "prison boy" had done me a great favor! There
she was! The babe! I could now see her from my new
location&;#8230;and she was in the row right in front of me! Dude,
this is too cool! Just play it cool&;#8230;got to come up with a
line&;#8230;a good line and a good story to back it up. I spent the
whole service scribbling notes and making up stories. When it was time
for the invitation I guess the message had been moving because quite a
few people were going forward to talk to the preacher and lots more
remained in their pews crying and praying. Man, what did I miss? I
noticed that the babe was crying too. Her friends were telling her that
things were going to be OK and that God would fix her family. Then I
noticed that all three had their heads bowed together and one of the
girls was praying&;#8230;I shouldn't have listened but I overheard
the prayer&;#8230;it was the most heart wrenching prayer I've ever
heard.

"Dear Father, please help Cindy's father and mother get back together.
You know how much she loves them and how much she needs her family to
stay together. Please, send extra love to her Dad, soften his heart and
let him know how much he is missed, loved and needed at their home. In
Jesus name, amen."

It was then that I noticed I was crying&;#8230;I was forever changed
by that simple prayer. It was simple but it was full of love and honest
hope. I learned many things that night, first I wanted to learn more
about praying like that, second I wanted to find out how I could help
and third I wanted friends like Cindy's. I just realized that I have
never prayed with any of my friends.

The next day I was outside the cabin just after breakfast making a
sketch of the outside of the cabin and the surrounding area. Never
hurts to know all the contingency exits and paths leading into the
surrounding forest. Who knows the next cabin over may have plans to
attack tonight? As I was finishing up I noticed Cindy and her two
friends coming down one of the trails&;#8230;it was a little early
to implement Strike Plan Alpha but as the Marines say, "A good attack
always beats a defense&;#8230;" or something like that.

I quickly placed myself along the path they were coming down, turned
to Plan Alpha in my diary, and waited for them to get closer. As they
got within hearing distance I started to read&;#8230;

"Like a dream she entered my life&;#8230;golden brunette hair,
golden skin and the smell of roses following her every move&;#8230;
without a doubt I cannot live without her&;#8230; I would climb the
highest mountain (chicks dig this stuff) and swim the widest ocean to
reach her&;#8230; just for one short glimpse of her beauty I would
give up my life. She is life, for to live without her I would be sad
beyond living&;#8230; I must see her&;#8230;she must know of my
admiration and longing to be her servant forever."

Just then a quick glance over my shoulder found that all three had
stopped dead in their tracks and were soaking in every word as if it
were fresh pepperoni pizza! I faked a cough and a scribble in the
journal and looked up nonchalantly and acted surprised to see
them.

One of the girls said, "Oh, we are sorry but we were walking by and
heard you reading poetry&;#8230;it was wonderful, did you write
that?"

Without, taking my eyes off Cindy, I said, "No my heart did."

The girl said, "oh, well, it was very nice&;#8230; we gotta go to
bible study&;#8230; maybe we will see you around, K? By the way,
what is your name."

Not pulling from my journal, grandma would be proud&;#8230; I said,
"Right now I would call myself "Lucky" (keeping eye contact with Cindy)
but my actually name is David."
Will I see you guys at services tonight?

"Oh yes" they said and I asked, "Row 74, center?"

They all said nearly in unison, "How did you know?"

And I responded with a smile and looking straight at Cindy said, "Who
could miss you guys last night?"

They giggled and left. Victory! Big score! Time for a celebration
prank&;#8230; short sheets all around!

That day crawled along so slow I thought about praying and asking God
to speed time up! I swam, played two volleyball games, attended a bible
study, ate lunch and then washed that down with a flag football game
and all before 3:30! I suppose my enthusiasm to do anything and freedom
to be myself started attracting a lot of attention from the guys in my
cabin. They all started asking me to do things with them. Maybe the
crazy dives at the pool or the insane tackles and passes I went for at
flag football won their admiration&;#8230; anyway doesn't matter I'm
moving up from tadpole to full frog status.

I joined some guys in a late afternoon "pet rock" gimmick. You first
need a rock that is flat and about fist sized. You set it out along a
high traffic area&;#8230;like close to the soda shack and wait for
some poor slob to step on your pet. Many a 6th grade boy has suffered
mental anguish and torture for having stepped on that rock. After, the
tenth victim I was bored and found myself looking at the people walking
by and listening to their conversations. It was about then that prison
boy and another guy who looked like a "cleaned up prison boy" came
walking by.

"I'm telling you man, I was once where you're at&;#8230; no
hope&;#8230; no future and Jesus changed all that. You're on a dead
end road man and unless you change you're going to end up in the big
house with no future. Just do yourself a favor&;#8230; listen to the
preacher real close tonight&;#8230; if you still don't understand or
need help I'll be there&;#8230;"

They walked on by&;#8230;I did notice that prison boy stepped on
the rock but nobody said a word.

I slammed down dinner, raced to the showers and was at the chapel a
full 30 minutes early. Not to sit there but to reserve
seats&;#8230;seats for Cindy, her two friends and me. I left
reserved notes on the portions of row 74 and 75 (just in case I wasn't
brave enough to sit with them I could at least sit behind them). People
started filling the chapel up early tonight. Everybody knows that if
you come early you get the best seats with fans above them. Cindy and
her friends were late and I had to sit down to keep the seats reserved.
Not wanting to presume anything I sat in the back row and as I saw them
coming I quickly collected up the reserve notes. They spied the open
seats and went right for them&;#8230;"Come to me the spider said to
the fly" I thought. Man, if my friend Mike could see me now I'd have
that tingly sensation from a freshly received "high five." As they all
got in position they leaned toward each other and whispered.

They turned and in unison said, "Hello, Lucky!"

I blushed, with embarrassment, with pride, with the joy of knowing they
remembered me! I am the luckiest man alive!

The service was good. Music was enjoyable and the preacher was
animated and funny. His message got progressively serious and by the
end of the service there must have been 100 kids up front with the
preacher. As they were finishing up the last of the music I saw a blur
of black move past me down the isle. Evidently prison boy had been
listening just outside the chapel and was going down the aisle! Look
out preacher here comes trouble! I tried to see what was going on and
unless my eyes are failing me he was down there talking with that same
guy I saw him with earlier and they were getting on their knees and
praying! Now there is a miracle if I have ever seen one! Mr. "I'll kill
you with my deadly stare, bad breath and switchblade" meets God.
Incredible. Deserves a journal note. Code message reads: PB DDWG (short
hand for Prison Boy does deal with God).

At the end of the service Cindy and her friends prayed again. Same
kind of heart felt pray. Same effect on my heart. Surely God heard that
prayer!

We were all filing out of the chapel and another person goes rushing
past me&;#8230;this time it was summer khaki and white with a blue
ribbon in the hair&;#8230;Cindy! She was running to some folks over
in the corner of the chapel patio. She literally leapt into this guys
arms and they spun around like in the movies&;#8230;it was
beautiful&;#8230;father and daughter reunited. Had to be the
sweetest thing I have ever seen in my entire life. Just beside them was
the mother who quickly rushed in to make the hug a six armed mess.
Definite journal entry time: GDAP (God does answer prayers).

As promised I allowed my grandmother to review my journal. She wanted
to know why this page was stained and what the stain was&;#8230; I
lied and said I must have spilt soda on the page&;#8230; but I think
she knew. You can fool lots of people except grandmas and God.

I was rushed back to reality by the heavy steps of my father coming up
the stairs. Oh man, I got to hurry! I stuffed the journal back in the
box. Slapped it back under my bed and prepared for inspection. Dad
poked his head in and said&;#8230;"chow in 5, inspection was just a
drill this time, but it looks good in here&;#8230;I'm putting you in
for a commendation&;#8230;carry on." Then he lost the drill
instructor mode and gave me a hug and said he was proud of me. Where's
a journal when you need one?