Free Camp Pleasant by Richard Matheson

said to him—I believe you.
    As an indication of purpose, he left his beloved
Louisville Slugger
behind and walked off politely to the ball diamond, wounded hand in pocket. I got together my music and started for the dining hall. It was while I was crossing the log bridge that the tan coupe pulled up in front of the office and braked. Out of it came Jackie dressed in tight denims and a snug black gaucho shirt. I started forward and called him but he didn’t hear and went into the office. A sinking sensation crowded my stomach. I trudged across the clearing, bracing myself for what I hoped was not to follow.
    As I came up to the screen door of the office, I heard Ed talking to Jackie as he might address a backward child.
    “Told him t’take his junk
with
him,” said Ed. “Nothin’ left around here’s far as I know.”
    “But I was
told,”
insisted a dulcet-voiced Jackie.
    “Sorry, boy. Don’t know a thing about it.”
    “Well
. I certainly don’t understand this.”
    I stood out by the car until Jackie came out, his face a mild summer storm. When he saw me, he smiled.
    “Well, hello there,” he said. “Maybe
you
can—”
    “Listen,” I said hastily, “Merv’s things are on the porch of the grocery and drug store up the road.”
    He looked surprised. “Oh, are you the one who—”
    “Look,” I said, “I’m in a hurry. Do you know which store I’m talking about?” “Well, I—”
    “As you go up to the road, turn right,” I said. “It’s just a little ways down the road on the left-hand side.”
    “Oh.” He nodded his head once.
    “Where’s Merv?” I asked, glancing nervously at the office.
    Jackie smacked his lips in disgust. “Gone back to the city. He left on the bus this morning.”
    “Oh. You know where to go now?”
    “Yes. But, tell me….” He twined lax fingers around my arm. “Who
is
that great
oaf
of a man in there?”
    “He’s our leader,” I said and started away from Jackie.
    To feel a stiffening of momentary shock as Ed Nolan came out of the office door, his face filled with displeased curiosity.
    “What’s goin’ on here, Harper?” he asked. “What’re you talkin’t
‘him
for?”
    A moment’s reprieve saved me as Jackie gunned his motor too much, then geared it badly and started up the slight incline that led to the road. When the noise of the motor had faded, I said that I’d told him where to find Merv’s belongings.
    “What’ve
you
got t’do with his belongings?” came the inevitable question.
    “We met him on the road last night,” I said.
    “Who’s
we?
”
    “Dalrymple and I,” I lied on. “We were coming back to camp when we met Loomis.”
    “What time?” he asked.
    “About ten-thirty, I guess.” I allowed time for Merv’s discovery on the dock, his packing, his beating and then his starting up the road.
    “What’d he tell ya?” Ed asked, looking very suspicious.
    “Said he was fired,” I told him, calmly. “Asked us to put his stuff somewhere for him.”
    “That’s
all
he said?” asked Ed and, for one muscle-tensing moment, I heard that same crawling undertone of irrational violence in his voice.
    “That’s all,” I said. “Why do you ask, Mister Nolan?”
    “Never mind that,” Ed said grumpily. “What the hell are
you
doin’?”
    “Getting ready to rehearse the glee club,” I said, feeling a slight measure of enjoyment in the realization that, although Ed despised the very thought of taking boys off a ball diamond and into the world of melody, he couldn’t do anything about it short of giving me carte blanche to loaf.
    “Oh,” he said. “How’s it goin’?”
    “Fine,” I said. “Very good.”
    “They were kind o’ flat last Sunday.”
    “Oh? I didn’t notice.” I knew he hadn’t either.
    “Well….” He looked vaguely disconcerted. “Get on with your work.” Turning, he trudged back to the office.
    I watched him a moment, then, dumping my music in the dining hall, I began the great trek about