The Mayor of Lexington Avenue by James Sheehan Read Free Book Online Page B

the campfire and two rows of white canvas tents on the other. An outhouse was set at the edge of the clearing, fifty yards or so from the nearest tent.
    “Pair up. Find yourselves a tent,” scoutmaster John Miller shouted. The boys raced for the tents, Johnny following closely behind Mikey. They picked one in the middle of the row. Eddie and Danny picked one across from them about thirty yards away.
    Each tent sat on a wooden platform and had two cots. There was a large burlap and a small burlap sack on each cot. The boys were told to stash their gear under the beds and bring their sacks. They walked, tripped and ran down a long, narrow trail to another clearing with a haystack in the middle.
    “The big sack is your mattress, the small sack your pillow,” Mr. Miller told them. “Fill ’em up.” The boys attacked the haystack with a vengeance.
    It was an inauspicious start for young Johnny, who suffered from hay fever. He didn’t sleep well that first night. His nose was stuffed, his mouth dry, his face swollen, and the crickets droned incessantly. On the other side of the tent, less than three feet away, Mikey was sound asleep, as if he had grown up in the woods.
    Sometime in the middle of that first night, Johnny had the urge to pee. He opened the tent flap and peered out into a darkness he had never known. The outhouse looked a hundred miles away. Who knew what creatures were lurking in the woods? As he stood there, scared and exhausted, wiping the drip at his nose with his hand, Johnny wished his father had said no. But it was too late for wishes. The cool night air hit his half-naked body and nature took it from there. He flipped down his Fruit of the Looms and pissed off the platform of his tent, trying not to make a puddle at the entrance.
    Maybe a half hour later, in a dream state, he heard Mikey doing the same thing.
    Things picked up after that first night. The camp had everything: baseball fields, basketball courts, woods to explore—in the daylight, of course—and the largest lake they had ever seen. Being city kids, they spent as much time on the lake as possible, swimming and boating. It was amazing to them that they could go down to the lake and sign a rowboat or a canoe out at any time.
    There was ritual, too: Every morning before breakfast the entire camp gathered at the parade field for the Pledge of Allegiance and reveille, and every night after dinner for “God Bless America” and taps. All scouts had to be in uniform for these events: collarless, short-sleeve scout shirt with kerchief, short scout pants, and knee-length scout socks with tassels. They hated the uniforms, especially the shorts, but they weren’t alone. The other city boys, like the troop from Harlem, didn’t take to the short pants either.
    By the end of the first week, Johnny had adjusted to country life, even his bedding full of hay. He slept with his mouth open and a canteen full of water at his bedside. When his dry mouth woke him, he took a sip of water and went back to sleep. When he was full to the brim, he stood at the front of his tent and relieved himself. Sometimes he and Mikey stumbled out of their cots at the same time. On those occasions, they had a contest to see who could pee the farthest and the longest. They didn’t know they were being watched.
    On Saturday night, there was a bonfire at the parade grounds. All the troops attended. The scouts roasted marshmallows and drank sodas. When darkness fell, the scoutmasters took turns telling scary stories. One of the stories was about a ferocious wildcat that roamed those very woods. It even scared Mikey, who clung to Johnny on the trail back to their campsite. That night the sodas caused them to wake several times to pee.
    After their second contest, they had a visitor. Johnny was lying on his side facing the tent wall when assistant scoutmaster Tom Daly came in and lay beside him in his cot. Johnny was half asleep. After a few seconds, Daly took Johnny’s arm and