Long Islanders

14 - Camping and Rules

With summer taking Long Island by storm, Jimmy's Boy Scout troop prepared for a camping trip. All the boys were excited, ready to get out into the woods again.

Jimmy's father spent his nights making sure everything was ready as the set weekend approached. The camping gear was all in order, the maps laid out, Mr. Angelos enlisted to help deal with the rowdy group of boys. As Friday dawned and Jimmy checked through his pack to ensure everything he needed was there, he felt eagerness flooding through him.

Pocketknife tucked into his jeans pocket, Jimmy headed downstairs to wait by the door. Ron met him a few minutes later, carrying his pack. Their father soon joined them and the three headed outside to the car after saying goodbye to their mother and sisters.

John and Andrew soon met them at the car, along with Tim. The boys all piled into the Brandts' van as the other Boy Scouts climbed into the Angelos' car with Nathaniel and his father.

Excited conversation flew around the van as they drove off to the woods where they were going to be camping tonight, talking and joking about other camping incidents, everything from the case of the missing tents to Nathaniel slamming his nose against the lean-to overhang last winter. Once at the woods, everyone clambered out of the cars, making sure they had everything with them as Mr. Brandt and Mr. Angelos talked quickly, gesturing often to the trees.

"All right, let's head out!" Jimmy's father yelled and the boys headed for the woods, falling relatively into line as the Boy Scout troop started out.

The sounds of birds chirping filled the air, along with the rustle of the leaves in the wind and the march of the boys on the path. Jimmy walked beside Tim, Andrew and John behind him and Nathaniel and Ron ahead. Mr. Angelos led the troop while Mr. Brandt brought up the rear.

After a while of walking, Mr. Angelos came to a halt, bending over. Jimmy rose up on tiptoe, trying to see over the boys in front of him. "Why'd he stop?" he heard John asking behind him.

When Mr. Angelos straightened, he was holding an old machete blade in his hand. Shouts of "Cool!" echoed up from the Boy Scouts as he turned around to face them.

"Someone left this lying on the trail," he said. "Nathaniel, you want it?"

Eagerly, Nathaniel cried, "Yes!" as he darted forward, the other Boy Scouts stepping aside to let him pass. But before he reached his dad, his foot caught on an upraised root and Nathaniel went sprawling to the ground with a thud.

Tim raised an eyebrow beside Jimmy as he tried not to laugh. Snickers rose up from the others as Nathaniel groaned. "I guess you didn't want that machete," Tim commented.

Nathaniel pushed himself up, scowling, and wiped the dirt off his face. His father handed him the machete and the troop continued on, most of the Boy Scouts a mix of semi-repressed laughter and jealousy.

Once at the campsite, the two adults quickly set the boys to setting up their tents and gathering wood. Jimmy was assigned to share a tent with Nathaniel, like he almost always did, and the two deposited their packs at their designated spot.

"And remember," Jimmy's father called. "Make sure you keep your shoes on at all times, and no running about the campsite."

Together, Jimmy and Nathaniel set their tent up, Jimmy hammering the supporting spikes into the ground to ensure it stayed up. Then they headed off to split wood for their campfires.

The small hatchets cleaved through the wood with the required forceful swing, and soon Jimmy and Nathaniel had armfuls. They toted them back to camp, adding to the small pile. While Jimmy headed back out to the woods, Nathaniel went to their tent.

When Jimmy returned with a second armload and headed to their tent to get a drink of water, he saw Nathaniel sitting before the tent, his socks and shoes spread out beside him. Furrowing his brow, Jimmy looked from the shoes to Nathaniel and back again. Is he deliberately trying to disobey Dad?

"Didn't you hear my dad?" Jimmy demanded. "He said keep your shoes on."

"Yeah, but I don't have to listen," Nathaniel countered. "My dad is here also, and he didn't say anything."

"That's because he thought everyone would listen to my dad so he didn't repeat it! He wasn't taking idiots into account!"

Nathaniel glared at him. "I don't feel like listening, so I won't. It's just a bunch of stupid safety rules, anyway. Who wants to listen to those?"

Jimmy felt anger bubbling up inside him. Why do I always get stuck with him? he lamented. "Nathaniel," he tried. "There are rules for a reason."

Nathaniel stood up, still scowling at Jimmy. "Cite me one good one," he spat, and took off running.

He didn't get far.

Nathaniel had only taken two steps before his bare foot landed on the spike Jimmy had used to secure the tent. There was a tearing sound and a scream as he pitched forward, slamming into the ground and instantly jerking his knee up towards his chest, hugging his leg as blood poured from the bottom of his foot.

"That's one reason," Jimmy managed to say.

Nathaniel was crying too loud to hear him, but Jimmy felt better just saying it. Mr. Angelos raced up to them not a moment later, Mr. Brandt not far behind. They quickly assessed the situation.

"Take him to the hospital," Jimmy's father said to Mr. Angelos. "Don't worry about us, just go."

After hastily bandaging up Nathaniel's foot to stop the blood flow, Mr. Angelos carried him out of the campsite clearing back toward the cars.

"No one else take their shoes off or run," Mr. Brandt bellowed as Mr. Angelos and Nathaniel disappeared from view. "You hear me?"

"Yes, sir," the Boy Scouts chorused and slowly, everyone returned to their tasks. It was much later that day, as evening approached, that Mr. Angelos returned, with Nathaniel in tow, to everyone's surprise.

Nathaniel sat before his and Jimmy's tent, shoes off and the bandage prominently displayed on his bare foot. "I had to have stitches," he boasted, licking the red lollipop in his hand.

Jimmy scowled and didn't answer. He had thought he'd have the tent to himself tonight and had been enjoying the thought of it.

"Nathaniel."

Jimmy's father stood by their tent, looking down at the boy. Nathaniel's eyes widened despite himself. "Yes sir?"

"Keep your shoes on," Mr. Brandt instructed. "You hear me, Nathaniel?"

The intense, stern look from Mr. Brandt had Nathaniel swallowing.

"Yes, sir."

"Good."

As his father walked away, Jimmy looked at Nathaniel with the hint of a smile. "Should've just listened in the first place, huh?"

Nathaniel was too grumpy to respond.