The Sound of Silence: Chapter 2
It was one of the younger kids who first pointed out the decrepit state of the camp. Very loudly. It was during the leader's speech after everyone had gathered that he shouted out, "This place looks like a giant porta-pottie!"
The sad thing was, it was true. The camp was made up of old log cabins forming a circle, with the odd bathroom thrown in here and there. Then, in the middle of all this, was the centerpiece of this work of art: the mess hall. The hall was exactly that. A mess. It was made mostly of the same half rotten wood that the cabins were made of, and was roughly the same shape too, except enlarged about 10 times. Inside the mess hall were picnic tables set up in a circle around a dirty old buffet table, almost exactly the layout of the outside.
"They really need an interior decorator in here!" was Marcel's first thought. "Good thing we are spending most of our time here camping and hiking!" he exclaimed out loud to Edwin.
"I agree. I don't think we will even need to spend a night in these disgusting buildings. From the little I caught of Leader Meyers' speech, the older group will be leaving just after we eat!" said Edwin, the nerves obvious in his shaky voice.
They would be going into the forest surrounding the camp for two trips of three days at a time. During these trips, the older scouts would be split up into five small groups, and taken on five different paths which meet up about 1 days hike into the woods. From there, the scouts would be taken on small trips just to learn about the local wildlife and plants.
As luck would have it, Marcel and Edwin were put in the same group. Of course, the boys were pleased to have been grouped together. By placing themselves at the back of the group, they could escape the boring lectures of Meyers' lectures and talk without getting in trouble.
"Our group is horrible!" complained Marcel jokingly. "I probably would have went back on the bus if you weren't here."
"I'm just pissed that we got Meyers. He's so boring! I heard that some of the other leaders are letting them build their own campfires. Meyer still won't let us make them, and we have been able to make our own since we were, like, 8!" said Edwin, joining in the complaining, even though he was glad that Meyers was their leader.
"I heard we get to build our own lean-to's tonight though! I read all the books I could find on them. I'll bet that I get mine set up first!" Marcel said eagerly.
Soon enough, Marcel and Edwin couldn't talk and were forced to listen to Leader Meyers, not because he told them too, but because the hike was becoming too intense! They had to keep their eyes on the ground to keep from tripping over roots, but at the same time, they had to keep their eyes up to look out for overhanging branches. The path, which was growing more and more thin as time went on, was also on a slight upward tilt.
"If I keep this up much longer, I'll be as skinny as you!" Marcel exclaimed, poking fun at Edwin's lean stature.
Edwin paused, looking Marcel up and down, "From the looks of you, it might help!" Edwin said, immediately sorry for his crude remark as he was aware of Marcel's self-consciousness towards his weight.
Marcel let out a quick breath that sounded like a can of pop opening and walked briskly to the front of the now single file line. He engaged Meyers in a conversation about the conservation of the southern flying squirrel in Ontario's deciduous forests, keeping his eyes fixed on the path ahead and determinably not looking back at Edwin. Edwin sighed and swatted a mosquito, knowing that it would be best to give him time to cool down, having dealt with Marcel's temper many times before.
Before too much longer, they arrived at their designated camp area and Meyers started them off on a competition to see who could build the best lean-to in the 30 minute time frame. They weren't given any instructions except "You can use whatever materiels you can find, as long as they don't belong to someone else." So they set off to build a lean-to with nothing but their minds and their own two hands, with the prize of an ice-cold coke in mind, heaven in the 33°C temperature.
After the given 30 minutes, all the scouts were standing proudly beside their completed lean-to's with the exception of Marcel. He had spent so much time trying to make his lean-to perfect that he ran out of time before he could finish it. To top it all off, he forgot to use spruce branches for the ground cover, instead used pine boughs, in which the needles are too long and too sharp for comfortable sleeping. Edwin's lean-to, to Marcel's disgust, was as close to perfect as it is possible to be in 30 minutes. His ropes were made of perfectly woven long grass found nearby, his knots mad of perfect figure-eight loops, his cross bar almost exactly the right height...Everything was good. Good enough for him to win the competition, much to Marcel's disappointment.
That night after the campfire, when everyone was asleep, Marcel was still fuming about him losing the competition to Edwin, so he decided to go for a walk. He had always found that a quiet walk helped him calm down and put things in perspective, and that was exactly what he needed to do then. He started to leave his now completed lean-to (which he noted with much satisfaction, was better than Edwin's) when he though about bringing his backpack. He finally decided to, as he had made enough mistakes that day, and wasn't planning on making another!
He picked his was across the pitch-black campsite, avoiding the ashes of the long extinguished campfire and made his way down the path, now able to see relatively well in the bright moonlight. He thought about how immature he had acted that day, starting with storming off from Edwin. Although it wasn't fair for him to make fun of him like that, he could have worked it out with him in a more adult matter. As he thought this, he came to the conclusion that he would apologize to Edwin that morning. About 20 minutes into his walk, Marcel suddenly came to a halt when he realized he was no longer on the path. He searched first calmly, the increasingly frantically when he couldn't find it. After about 15 minutes of running around aimlessly, he stopped and the buzzing of millions of mosquitos filled his head. A sinking feeling completed it's journey to his toes.
He was lost.
The sad thing was, it was true. The camp was made up of old log cabins forming a circle, with the odd bathroom thrown in here and there. Then, in the middle of all this, was the centerpiece of this work of art: the mess hall. The hall was exactly that. A mess. It was made mostly of the same half rotten wood that the cabins were made of, and was roughly the same shape too, except enlarged about 10 times. Inside the mess hall were picnic tables set up in a circle around a dirty old buffet table, almost exactly the layout of the outside.
"They really need an interior decorator in here!" was Marcel's first thought. "Good thing we are spending most of our time here camping and hiking!" he exclaimed out loud to Edwin.
"I agree. I don't think we will even need to spend a night in these disgusting buildings. From the little I caught of Leader Meyers' speech, the older group will be leaving just after we eat!" said Edwin, the nerves obvious in his shaky voice.
They would be going into the forest surrounding the camp for two trips of three days at a time. During these trips, the older scouts would be split up into five small groups, and taken on five different paths which meet up about 1 days hike into the woods. From there, the scouts would be taken on small trips just to learn about the local wildlife and plants.
As luck would have it, Marcel and Edwin were put in the same group. Of course, the boys were pleased to have been grouped together. By placing themselves at the back of the group, they could escape the boring lectures of Meyers' lectures and talk without getting in trouble.
"Our group is horrible!" complained Marcel jokingly. "I probably would have went back on the bus if you weren't here."
"I'm just pissed that we got Meyers. He's so boring! I heard that some of the other leaders are letting them build their own campfires. Meyer still won't let us make them, and we have been able to make our own since we were, like, 8!" said Edwin, joining in the complaining, even though he was glad that Meyers was their leader.
"I heard we get to build our own lean-to's tonight though! I read all the books I could find on them. I'll bet that I get mine set up first!" Marcel said eagerly.
Soon enough, Marcel and Edwin couldn't talk and were forced to listen to Leader Meyers, not because he told them too, but because the hike was becoming too intense! They had to keep their eyes on the ground to keep from tripping over roots, but at the same time, they had to keep their eyes up to look out for overhanging branches. The path, which was growing more and more thin as time went on, was also on a slight upward tilt.
"If I keep this up much longer, I'll be as skinny as you!" Marcel exclaimed, poking fun at Edwin's lean stature.
Edwin paused, looking Marcel up and down, "From the looks of you, it might help!" Edwin said, immediately sorry for his crude remark as he was aware of Marcel's self-consciousness towards his weight.
Marcel let out a quick breath that sounded like a can of pop opening and walked briskly to the front of the now single file line. He engaged Meyers in a conversation about the conservation of the southern flying squirrel in Ontario's deciduous forests, keeping his eyes fixed on the path ahead and determinably not looking back at Edwin. Edwin sighed and swatted a mosquito, knowing that it would be best to give him time to cool down, having dealt with Marcel's temper many times before.
Before too much longer, they arrived at their designated camp area and Meyers started them off on a competition to see who could build the best lean-to in the 30 minute time frame. They weren't given any instructions except "You can use whatever materiels you can find, as long as they don't belong to someone else." So they set off to build a lean-to with nothing but their minds and their own two hands, with the prize of an ice-cold coke in mind, heaven in the 33°C temperature.
After the given 30 minutes, all the scouts were standing proudly beside their completed lean-to's with the exception of Marcel. He had spent so much time trying to make his lean-to perfect that he ran out of time before he could finish it. To top it all off, he forgot to use spruce branches for the ground cover, instead used pine boughs, in which the needles are too long and too sharp for comfortable sleeping. Edwin's lean-to, to Marcel's disgust, was as close to perfect as it is possible to be in 30 minutes. His ropes were made of perfectly woven long grass found nearby, his knots mad of perfect figure-eight loops, his cross bar almost exactly the right height...Everything was good. Good enough for him to win the competition, much to Marcel's disappointment.
That night after the campfire, when everyone was asleep, Marcel was still fuming about him losing the competition to Edwin, so he decided to go for a walk. He had always found that a quiet walk helped him calm down and put things in perspective, and that was exactly what he needed to do then. He started to leave his now completed lean-to (which he noted with much satisfaction, was better than Edwin's) when he though about bringing his backpack. He finally decided to, as he had made enough mistakes that day, and wasn't planning on making another!
He picked his was across the pitch-black campsite, avoiding the ashes of the long extinguished campfire and made his way down the path, now able to see relatively well in the bright moonlight. He thought about how immature he had acted that day, starting with storming off from Edwin. Although it wasn't fair for him to make fun of him like that, he could have worked it out with him in a more adult matter. As he thought this, he came to the conclusion that he would apologize to Edwin that morning. About 20 minutes into his walk, Marcel suddenly came to a halt when he realized he was no longer on the path. He searched first calmly, the increasingly frantically when he couldn't find it. After about 15 minutes of running around aimlessly, he stopped and the buzzing of millions of mosquitos filled his head. A sinking feeling completed it's journey to his toes.
He was lost.
