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To: Dad
From: Johnny
Re: Camp
Dad, camp is horrible. I hate it. The kids are mean and the counselor is crazy. Yesterday, he threw me into the lake where there’s snakes and things. Last night some kids stole my pants. The food is not for humans. Please come get me. Soooon.
Love,
Johnny
***
To: Jonathan Fullbright
From: Nathaniel Fullbright
Re: Camp
Son, I know you are finding it difficult to adjust, but you just need to be brave for me and your mother. The things you describe are normal; kids did the same things to me when I went to camp. You’ll get used to it. Just wait and see. In two weeks, you won’t want to come home.
Be strong.
Love,
Dad
***
To: Johnny
From: Mom
Re: Camp
Honey, I have tried to talk to your dad and tell him how unhappy you are at camp. He says you will get used to it there. So, baby, we can’t come up this weekend and take you home. I want you to try to get along with the other children and the counselors. Your dad and I love you so very much, and we want to see you happy. So, try to hang in there, ok?
Love,
Mom
P.S. I am mailing you a box of chocolate chip cookies. Please share them with the other children.
***
To: Dad
From: Johnny
Re: Camp
Dad, this place is killing me. Yesterday, some big boys locked me in the bathroom, which is not really a bathroom, but a metal shed where spiders sleep. It got hot in there and I threw up on my shoes and passed out. The counselor called me a weenie when I cried when I got out of there.
Please, Dad, I can’t stand it here one more day. Come get me.
Johnny
***
To: Jonathan Fullbright
From: Nathan Fullbright
Re: Camp
Jonathan, you got to calm down. I am getting calls from the camp, saying you have been to the infirmary every day claiming you are dying. You know what I have taught you about fibbing. I want you to settle down and try to enjoy yourself. I had the best time of my life when I went to camp. I know you will, too.
Love,
Dad
***
To: Julia
From: Mary
Re: Camp Tomahawk
Julia, Johnny is so unhappy at camp. He is begging for us to come and get him, but Nate won’t hear of it. Steve and Nate are friends, so maybe he could talk to him and convince him to let Johnny come home. He’ll listen to Steve. You know how police officers are. They won’t listen to their wives, but they’ll listen to each other.
M.
***
To: Mary
From: Julia
Re: Camp Tomahawk
Mary, Johnny will be ok. Our Kevin cried when he went to camp, but he soon grew to love it. He made so many friends there — some still come by and visit. It is best not to give into his pleas. You want him to be strong, don’t you? So, for that to happen, you need to be strong.
J.
***
To: Nathaniel Fullbright
From: Gregory Stone
Owner, Camp Tomahawk
Re: Jonathan Fullbright
Sgt. Fullbright: Sorry to have to send troubling news, but your son seems to be having great difficulty adjusting to life here and is not able to interact sociably with the other campers. He is often belligerent to the counselors, and has destroyed furniture, dishes, and a tv. Sir, we recommend that you speak to your son and see what can be done about his behavior, or we will have no other recourse than to send him home.
***
To: Dad
From: John
Re: Camp
Please, Dad.
***
To: Julia
From: Steve
Re: Don’t wait up
Hey, hon. Don’t wait dinner for me. Gotta go out to the camp on the lake. Big mess there. Some boys killed. Don’t know who yet or who the perpetrator is . Will call you later.
D. B. Dubuisson lives and works in New York City, teaching writing at various colleges.
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RE: CAMP • by D. B. Dubuisson,
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16 Responses to “RE: CAMP • by D. B. Dubuisson”
Comments
« SET THEORY • by Sarah Crysl Akhtar | Home | THE UNWILLING TROPHY WIFE • by Chad Stroup »
December 7th, 2012 at 3:23 am
Wow…
Excellent writing, terrible twist. I wanna know what happened!
December 7th, 2012 at 4:45 am
A well put together piece.
My main bugbear is the third but last sentence, “Some boys killed.” There must be an apostrophe or a verb missing, or perhaps the sentence was meant to continue.
A large amount of explicit and between-the-lines information about relationships brings this piece to life.
December 7th, 2012 at 5:20 am
There shouldn’t be an apostrophe. The verb is missing, but I’m sure that’s intentional.
December 7th, 2012 at 6:03 am
@ Sarah – Ah, okay! I think the impact would have been stronger with ‘A boy got killed’, keeping the number singular.
December 7th, 2012 at 8:13 am
“A boy got killed” would indicate that the son writing was killed, but I suspect that the plural is to indicate that he is the killer, not the victim.
Creepy story. Effective.
December 7th, 2012 at 8:19 am
Loved it. Saw the end coming. Loved the open to imagination last line.
December 7th, 2012 at 10:26 am
Eee! That started out quite funny and then took a serious turn down a dark road. Great read!
December 7th, 2012 at 12:51 pm
I actually assumed Li’l Johnny was going get killed, not be the killer, so technically I did not “see it coming.”
December 7th, 2012 at 12:55 pm
Wow. A powerful story about bullying. I was often homesixk at camp, but nothing like this. Stories like this show just how important it is for adult to listen to kids.
December 7th, 2012 at 3:06 pm
Agree with JenM and Shere Khan—very powerful, and didn’t see it coming. Nicely done.
December 7th, 2012 at 4:19 pm
Great story. The way the text is broken up appeals to the lazy in me. Now I can’t get “Hello Muddah, Hello Fadduh” out of my head.
December 7th, 2012 at 4:28 pm
I thought the key to the killer was when the boy finally signed himself “John.”
December 7th, 2012 at 5:04 pm
Wow, have things changed since I went to summer camp! I was completely surprised by the ending. I did have to go back to see who Julia and Steve were … at first I thought Steve was the boy’s dad, and he was having an affair with Julia. Guess my mind meandered into the gutter.
Interesting read, D. B. Dubuisson.
December 7th, 2012 at 8:04 pm
I thought this was good, except for the ending which was predictable if I interpreted it correctly. Th dialogue was also good and there was rising tension near the end.
December 9th, 2012 at 10:44 pm
I read this story the other day, and it stuck with me enough that I had to come back and read the comments. Ha, Melissa Nott! My mother was always singing that song, haven’t thought of it in years. Good, chilling tale!
December 20th, 2012 at 3:23 pm
“Chilling” is the right word for it. Well done.