Free Sheep and Wolves by Jeremy C. Shipp Page B

That’s that.
    Hamilton enters the cabin, dressed in yellow and grinning like an idiot as usual. “Hello, boys. Excited about the fire tonight?”
    “Yeah,” we say, Nigel and I.
    “Good.”
    I shudder.
    I don’t hate the guy, but sometimes when he’s talking I want to punch him in the kidneys.
    “Your cell phone please, Nigel,” Hamilton says, his hand out and flat like a bear-trap ready to bite. Although mousetrap might be more appropriate. This is Hamilton, after all.
    Nigel mumbles something that sounds like, “Poop hound,” and hands over the phone.
    “I’m not trying to be a dark cloud at a picnic,” Hamilton says. “I just want to start our camping experience out right. We’re not only here for fun and games. We’re also trying to learn some responsibility. And that means following the rules.” He sits on the bed and wraps his arm around Nigel’s shoulders. “You might not appreciate it now, but someday you will. You won’t always have Counselors or parents to bring you what you want. Someday you’re going to have to fulfill your own needs, and that’s not always an easy thing to do. It’s better to start preparing now. Do you understand?”
    “Yes,” Nigel says. “Please get your hands off me.”
    Hamilton sighs and heads for the door. “See you at the fire, boys.” He smiles and leaves.
    *
    For those campers who don’t like eating sheep meat, the Counselors supply us with baby back ribs. I watch the sheep spinning on the spit. It reminds me of my neighbor’s bunny, turning around and around, staring so intently at nothing.
    “Does anyone else have a ghost story?” Kent says, another Counselor.
    Nigel raises his hand.
    “Go ahead, Nigel.”
    Nigel stands, though no one else did when they were telling stories. “Years ago, there was a boy murdered at this camp,” he says.
    A few kids laugh.
    “He was a good boy,” Nigel says. “He never did any wrong to anybody, so he went to Heaven. The first thing he wanted to do when he got there was meet God. He had all sorts of questions for God about the meaning of life and stuff like that. Mostly, he just wanted to thank God for creating the world. The problem was that a lot of people wanted to meet God, so the line was really, really long. So the boy waited. For years and years. He had a long time to think about what happened to him. He was killed before he ever had the chance to drive a car or fuck a girl or—”
    “Nigel, don’t be vulgar,” Hamilton says, smiling.
    “Sorry,” Nigel says. “Anyway, the more he thought about it, the angrier he got. By the time he reached the front of the line, his whole body was covered with fire. He didn’t care about the meaning of life and he didn’t feel like thanking God for anything. All he cared about was getting revenge. God loved the boy and so he sent him back here, to this Camp, like the boy wanted. The reason why I know this is because he talked to me last night in my dreams. He told me to warn all of you to beg for forgiveness. He’s not only after the one who killed him, but everyone who didn’t stop this terrible thing from happening. Everyone.”
    There’s some laughter, but mostly there isn’t.
    “He’s telling the truth,” Mike says. She’s one of the few girls who comes to Arthur’s Science Camp every year. “I saw the boy last night too,” she says. “He asked me to fuck him, but I’m not a whore.”
    “You can’t fuck a ghost,” England says, in that stupid fake accent of his.
    “Does anyone else have a story?” Hamilton says.
    “He’s watching us right now,” Nigel says. “If you don’t apologize, he’s going to—”
    “Your turn is over, Nigel,” Kent says. “Please sit down.”
    Nigel obeys.
    *
    The boy holds hands with the Holy Light and points at me. The Light glares at me in a way that reminds me of my father.
    “It wasn’t me,” I say. “I didn’t do it.”
    The Light comes at me with a belt.
    I wake up when I hit the floor.
    Luckily, I