Camp Pleasant by Richard Matheson Read Free Book Online Page B

was going to marry before an automobile collision tore the life from her.
    Supper time. The usual gabbles and giggles and little boys stuffing stomach cavities. And, in the middle of the main course, Big Ed rising, belching, waiting, speaking.
    “You all know what happened this afternoon,” he said. “And you all know
why. Rough
housin’, that’s why.” He looked around the dining hall. “Anybody wants to roughhouse, send him to me. I’ll give him a little roughhouse where it counts—on the
butt
with a canoe paddle! I don’t want no shovin’ or roughhousin’ in my camp, ya understand? If it happens again, there’s not gonna
be
any store open after rest period.”
    Again his eyes moved over us all, his cheeks puffing out gassily. “That’s all,” he said, surprising us with his untypical brevity. My meat loaf was still warm on my plate. And still warm in my stomach when Big Ed met me at the door and suggested I join him in the office.
    “I guess you know what happened to Rocca this afternoon,” he said.
    I looked at him curiously, “Yes,” I said, “I—”
    I stopped talking as Ed Nolan jabbed a thick forefinger at me. “Harper, you’re gonna have to get on the ball,” he said. “That’s the second time he’s been to the dispensary this week.”
    “I know, but—”
    “If you can’t take care of your boys, Harper, I’ll have to find someone who
can.”
    I gaped. “You mean you’re holding me responsible for what happened this afternoon?”
    A slight, glowing flush moved up Big Ed’s portly cheeks. “That’s right,” he said.
    “But I wasn’t even in
camp
this afternoon!”
    “What in hell’s
that
got to do with it?” Big Ed snapped. “Ya think you’re not responsible for your kids soon as ya can’t
see
them?”
    “I don’t understand, Mister Nolan,” I said. “I took six of my boys on a hike this afternoon. I
had
to leave Tony Rocca behind because of his foot. How could I have anything to do with—”
    “I don’t like your attitude, Harper,” he said. “You’re not gonna last long here with an attitude like that.”
    Repressing anger sent a shudder down my back.
    “I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m not trying to argue with you, Mister Nolan.
    I just can’t understand how I can be held responsible for every move my—”
    “Well, ya
better
understand it!” Another shudder. “All right,” I said.
    “That’s all Harper,” Big Ed cut the interview short. “Just remember I got my eye on ya, boy. Either you get in high gear or you’re gonna find yourself out on your ass. Now, beat it, I’m busy.”
    Holding back words which would have ended my Camp Pleasant career posthaste, I left the office and went out of the dining hall.
7.
    Reaching
The Crossroads Tavern
involved a four-mile walk south down the road from camp. It was one of three buildings, the other two being the
Shady Haven Motel—10 Cabins
—TV
in Every Room—Light Housekeeping
and
The Bramblebush Restaurant
, vintage 1920, an old converted home with heavy beamed ceilings, paneled walls and a stone fireplace. From the upper dining deck of the restaurant, you could see glinting flashes of the lake along whose south shore that road was constructed.
    Bob and I were sitting in one of the tavern booths that night, drinking bottled beer and discussing, among other things, the annual Counselor Takeoffs in which everyone and everything fell before the truncheoning of lampoon, especially the upper echelon boys.
    “This we must take loving care with,” I said. “I must confess I would like to see Big Ed skinned alive.”
    Bob blew out more smoke. “I see you’re finally coming around to our way of thinking,” he said.
    “Well, let’s get back to the show,” I said.
    “Right,” he agreed. “I think I’ve just about talked Sammy Wrazalowsky into playing Big Ed.”
    A heartfelt chuckle rumbled in my chest. Sammy Wrazalowsky was a gigantic butterball who taught ring-making in the craftshop.
    “He may