I Never Liked Summer Camp

    I never liked summer camp. 

    Summer camp was just a place where my parents would dump me for a few months so they could entertain their so-called friends without me being in the way.

    I never liked summer camp, and that was before what happened to Jeffrey Toulsen.

    What did happen to Jeffery Toulsen almost twenty-five years ago?  There are lots of people with an opinion.  He ran away.  He fell off a cliff.  A bear ate him.  UFOs abducted him.  I had to laugh at that one.  That was my favorite.

    Let me tell you a little about Jeffery Toulsen.  Jeffery Toulsen was a bully, your typical overweight twelve year old with self-esteem issues.  I know, because I was one of his primary targets, an undersized ten year old with limited coordination and extremely limited fighting skills.

    Here is a quick page out of his summer activity playbook.  He enjoyed taking a number two lead pencil and sticking needles in the eraser.  These needles would then come into contact with human skin, namely mine, a shoulder, or a lower leg, or the back of the neck for instance.  Jeffery Toulsen would then ask you if it hurt.  Even though you would say that it did in fact hurt, Jeffery would continue to poke infinite more times.  It was as if you were his personal science experiment and he was testing to see if you actually liked the pain after repeated exposure.

    I never liked the pain.

    In fact, I disliked the pain so much that after awhile all I could think about was making the pain stop.

    I could not physically beat him up.  There was just no way.  He outweighed me by fifty pounds easy.  Not only that, Jeffery Toulsen had the natural ability to fight.  For me it would have taken every ounce of courage to take a swing at him, and even if I would have been fortunate enough to land a punch it would not have hurt him.  After that, he would have destroyed me.

    I was afraid of him.

    I never liked being afraid.

    I often took walks by myself at camp.  Sometimes, I snuck off at night, sometimes during the day.  I could slip the counselors.  It was easy.  On one of those walks, I discovered a hole.  It was a deep, dark hole, precariously positioned between two large boulders.  It was also the kind of hole where people that happen to fall into them don’t get found.

    I picked a day, one when there was lots of camp activity and I punched Jeffery Toulsen hard in the back.  Then I ran, and he chased me to the hole.  I was agile, and I dodged the hole.  Not Jeffery Toulsen though.  That fat sack of shit fell. 

    I heard him hit the bottom of the hole. 

    I heard his bones break. 

    I heard him cry for me to help him.

    I ignored it.  I just leaned over the edge and asked him if it hurt.

    I never liked Jeffery Toulsen.







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