Down the Psycho Path

by Dan Dillard

  GJ ate the meat. He was starving and couldn’t help himself.

  When George Jackson Davis was born, he had a warm smile. His mother said he’d smiled from the second he was unleashed on the world and he’d kept that smile until three days ago. Three days of hell served cold on a dirty plate. Three days he wished in his head and his heart he could repeat, making different choices. Choices that started with him saying, “No,” when the question, “You wanna go to camp this summer, GJ?” was asked.

  It was pronounced Jeejay, like some kind of bird, or a name you might hear in India, but he actually liked it, embraced it, which was odd for a thirteen year old. It seemed like most kids that age were starting to rebel. Their bodies were rebelling against them, so they rebelled back, hated their hair, their acne, their not-child-yet-not-adult faces, their voices–and yes–even their names. GJ was none of those things. He was happy with himself, and happy with his life.

  The idea of camp sounded like a two week vacation for him, and an opportunity to make friends and learn new things. He loved the woods, he loved the water and he loved being with people. It was a perfect package tied up in a bow for him to unwrap. He could tell his stories at the campfire, silly tales of monsters that crept in the woods. He would get laughs, maybe a shriek or two. It would be exciting.

  Day 1 Afternoon

  When the bus pulled into the state park, he smiled. Foothills loaded with trees hugged the curvy, barely-two-lane road that weaved on for almost five miles. At the end, there was a large open courtyard surrounded by wooden cabins, and a lake in the background. Its surface glimmered in the setting sun. GJ stepped off the bus and inhaled with his famous smile. A nametag was pinned onto each of the dozen camper’s shirts and a number told them to which cabin and counselor they were assigned.

  Even with all the natural wonder, newness and activity, trouble started that first night. As they were finding their bunks and putting their belongings into assigned and locked trunks, two boys approached.

  “GJ?” a boy named Roger had asked. “What kind of faggot name is that?”

  “Yeah,” another boy said. His name was Kota. He was tan with thin blond hair that hung in curly wisps. Dakota, GJ thought. That must be short for Dakota.

  Roger was bigger than GJ and Kota. His hair was black and he had braces that were crusted with whatever he’d eaten for lunch, and maybe breakfast. He looked dirty and his eyes were the color of overcooked summer squash. GJ didn’t let them drag him down, but simply answered, “My initials. George Jackson Davis. GJ for short. It’s what my mother has called me since I was a baby.”

  “Sounds like you might still be a baby,” Kota said.

  Other boys snickered in the background, but kept their distance. GJ didn’t catch all of their names. He hadn’t had time before a counselor burst through the cabin door wearing a huge grin.

  “Time for chow, boys. Think of it as a welcome to Camp Black Rock party. We need to get to know you guys. You can get settled in later.”

  He was tall, maybe nineteen or twenty and wore a red t-shirt with the Camp Black Rock logo on the front. As he left, GJ saw his name, Mike, was silk-screened on the back.

  Campers milled around. Most had come with siblings, or friends, and groups of two or three formed quickly. Another young boy sat alone at one of the tables. Mike approached him and tousled his hair. The boy smiled. On the table were metal trays with raw hamburger patties and hot dogs, buns, lettuce, tomato slices, pickles, condiments and chips. There were two round coolers, the orange kind with the spout on the bottom, and stacks of paper cups. The grill was smoking. GJ quickly approached the only female among the three counselors, who was busy stoking the charcoal. She was attractive, but round, with a bright smile, brown hair and freckles. Her name was Laura.

  “What can I do for you?” she said, and then peered at his nametag. “GJ?”

  He nodded.

  “What can I do for you, GJ?”

  “I understand you have vegan options?” he asked.

  “We sure do,” she said. “We don’t get much call for them in campers your age, but if that’s what you want, we have veggie dogs and black bean burgers that are pretty good. I’ll cook yours first while the grill’s clean.”

  “Vegan?” a voice said behind him.

  It was Roger. His voice had a sinister, snide quality that was nasal and grating.

  “Sounds a lot like vagina. You got a vagina?”

  “Hey!” Laura said. “That’s rude. Are you going to be my troublemaker?”

  She peered down at his nametag and frowned. “Roger. Roger the troublemaker.”

  “No ma’am,” Roger said.

  “We’ll see, won’t we?” Laura said.

  Her frown turned into a smile and she shooed him away. Roger left, but stared at GJ. He watched him with empty eyes, the eyes of someone who might be stepping on a cockroach rather than looking at another human being, a human being that had done nothing to deserve such contempt.

  “Don’t mind him,” Laura said. “I’m sure he didn’t mean anything by it. Boys will jump on any chance to be vulgar.”

  GJ wasn’t so sure. He was smiling, but for the first time he could remember, he didn’t want to.

  “I guess,” he said.

  He missed his mother. He missed his bedroom and his things. He’d been at camp for less than two hours. GJ had looked forward to this trip for two months. He had fantasized about boating and hiking and making friends. In his head, it was warm and inviting and full of adventure. It had taken less than two hours to make the woods and lake felt cold and lonely. Even though Laura made him a black bean burger that smelled good and served it with a side of chips, he didn’t eat. He didn’t talk to anyone. He simply listened, followed instructions, and then went to bed.

  Day 2 Morning

  Dawn streaked the cabin walls with gold. GJ sat up and yawned, the only one awake that he saw. He peered out the window at the lake, then climbed out of bed, careful not to disturb any of the others. He took his toothbrush to the bathroom and then changed into clean clothes and walked outside. The door creaked as he opened and shut it, but none of the others stirred. The sun burned heat onto the cool morning ground and as he walked toward the lake, he noticed another soul sitting on one of the picnic tables. A small silhouette against the vast body of water.

  “Good morning,” GJ said.

  The boy turned toward him. The other loner. The boy raised one hand in a hello gesture and GJ thought maybe camp wasn’t a total loss. The morning had brought a new day as always. A new day with new possibilities.

  The boy smiled through a mop of dingy brown hair that hung well past his eyes and then turned back to the water.

  “Up early?” GJ said.

  The boy nodded without turning. Then he straightened and turned toward GJ who was sitting next to him on the six-foot-long picnic table. They bookended the old piece of furniture. “What’s a vegan?” he asked.

  GJ frowned. “It means I don’t eat meat, or anything that comes from animals.”

  “So, you don’t drink milk?”

  “Nope. No eggs either. Or cheese. Or ice cream.”

  “Weird,” the boy said. The word wasn’t malicious. It was stated matter-of-fact. To the stranger on the other end of the table, not eating meat or drinking milk was weird. GJ was used to that, and didn’t mind.

  “What’s your name?” GJ said.

  “Louis. You can call me Louis.”

  “Okay.”

  They stared at the water for a while before GJ spoke up again. “Camp isn’t as much fun as I thought.”

  “Not with Roger around.”

  “You know him?”

  “Only from here. He was here last year. He broke my nose. I was almost glad to see him pick on someone new, but then I felt bad for feeling that way,” Louis said.

  GJ thought about it a moment. “You can’t help the way you feel, I guess.”

  “Nope,” Louis said and then sat and stared out at the w
ater for a long time.

  “So what time’s breakfast around here?” GJ said.

  Louis smiled at him. “What do you eat for breakfast?”

  “Toast. Sometimes I eat cereal with soy milk or orange juice. Or I’ll eat an apple or a banana. “

  “Cereal? With orange juice? Like poured over it?”

  “Yep.” GJ smiled. The same old smile snuck back to his face. Louis was staring at him. At least GJ thought he was as his eyes were obscured by his hair.

  “Weird,” Louis said again.

  “That’s me. Weird.”

  Louis giggled. At first it was just a rumbling, then it broke into a nervous sort of laughter. The kind of laughter that let the tension out, almost like a good cry. The laugh spread to GJ and turned into the kind of fit that couldn’t be stopped and just had to run its course. Minutes later, they were skipping rocks into the lake at Camp Black Rock.

  Counselor Mike walked out of the cabin and stretched. GJ heard him walk towards them, crunching dry leaves as he came. “Wow, we’ve got some early risers. I haven’t even had my coffee yet,” Mike said. “You two be careful near that lake. Don’t want anyone turning up missing.”

  “We will,” the boys replied in unison.

  Mike disappeared into one cabin, then another, delivering the message that everyone needed to wake up. When he emerged from the last one, he held a steaming travel mug which GJ assumed was full of coffee. Mike took a seat at one of the picnic tables and watched out over the lake. Soon after, Lauren joined him. She was yawning, but looked fresh and clean with her hair pulled into a tight braid. Gavin, the third counselor sat to her right. Before long, there were howls and shrieks as the other campers grab-assed and horsed around the outside of the cabins.

  Mike blew a whistle and called them all to the center where he introduced them to breakfast in the dining cabin. The campers filed in and got their meals. GJ and Louis sat together discussing their plans for the day. Other groups took other tables and the last two out of the line were Roger and Kota. Roger smirked when he saw two choices of table where he and his sidekick could sit. One was empty and on the far side of the hall. The other was next to GJ and Kota. He strutted over and slammed his tray down on its laminated top. The other boys jumped at the noise.

  “Morning girls. You vegan too?” He said to Louis.

  Louis shook his head and stared down at his food.

  “We’re just eating our breakfast,” GJ said.

  “Shut up, faggot,” Roger whispered. “Don’t get all butt hurt and cry. Don’t want the counselors coming over here.”

  “Or?” GJ said.

  “You get me in trouble and I’ll hurt you in ways you’ve never even considered,” Roger said.

  Kota chuckled and squirmed like the worm he was. GJ felt ill as if Roger was a just turned cup of milk. It could’ve been the light brown eyes in Roger’s pale face, or the way his hair hung in greasy clumps, more cephalopod than mammal. Roger took a piece of toast from GJ’s tray, folded it and shoved the whole thing into his own mouth, then flipped a piece of banana off his spoon at Louis and it stuck in the boy’s hair. Kota laughed out loud.

  “Quit,” GJ said.

  Roger looked to each counselor, then at the other tables. GJ did the same. His stomach knotted when he saw no one was watching. The counselors were talking and laughing and the other kids, even the ones who sat close by were busy looking anywhere but at Roger.

  Roger smiled showing his toast-packed braces, then picked his nose and shoved the soiled finger into the center of Louis’s bowl of cereal. Louis pushed the tray away and folded his arms.

  “Stop that,” GJ said, louder than he’d intended.

  Laura and Gavin looked their direction. Roger sat up straight with a pleasant look on his face. Laura was fooled temporarily and went back to her conversation, but Gavin nodded, letting the boys know he was watching.

  “You obviously don’t know when to shut your faggot mouth,” Roger said. “Maybe I need to shut it for you?”

  “Stop calling me that,” GJ said. He was careful to be quiet that time.

  “I’ll call you whatever I like and you’ll smile and thank me, faggot.” Roger pulled on GJ’s tray, dragging it closer to his side of the table. Then he grabbed the second piece of toast and ate it. Before Roger could finish chewing, Gavin was standing next to him.

  “Something wrong with the food on your plate, Roger?” Gavin said.

  Laura stood up and joined them.

  “No,” Roger said through a mouthful of bread.

  “Did you offer him that piece of toast?” Laura said to GJ.

  GJ shook his head. He was glad, on one hand, that Roger had been caught, but concerned there might be consequences.

  “Didn’t we talk about making trouble last night?” Laura asked.

  Roger shrugged.

  “We aren’t going to have the same issues this year are we, Roger?” Gavin said.

  Roger shrugged again.

  “Why don’t you and I go have a private talk,” Gavin said. “I’ve got this, Laura. Rog and I go way back.”

  Laura nodded and stood by the table with GJ, Louis and Kota while Gavin placed one hand gently on Roger’s shoulder and led him outside of the dining cabin. Roger never took his eyes off of GJ, and GJ could feel the icy stare on the back of his head.

  “You might be a dead man,” Kota said. “Just might be a dead man.”

  *****

  It was after lunch before Louis and GJ saw Roger again. He was coming out of the administrator’s cabin and didn’t look angry, he looked almost peaceful. When he approached, he was smiling. Gavin stood back and watched, arms crossed.

  Roger cleared his throat and looked at GJ and Louis.

  “I wanted to apologize. You know—say I’m sorry—for taking your breakfast this morning,” he said.

  It sounded sincere to GJ. “Accepted,” he said. It wasn’t okay, the way he’d been treated, but he would accept the apology.

  “Maybe we should start over?” Roger said. He stuck his hand out and after staring at it a moment, GJ grabbed it and gave it a shake. Then he extended it to Louis who shook it as well. Kota joined them and to Gavin’s delight, the four sat and talked and joked for a while. They split ways at lunch, but before dinner, there was an hour of free time and everyone split up. Some played ladderball, others sat out at the lake. Roger pulled Kota, GJ and Louis aside and the four huddled up.

  “Who wants to see something bad ass?” he said.

  The other three shook their heads.

  “You mean the…” Kota started, but Roger interrupted him.

  “Shh. Yeah, that’s what I mean,” he said.

  “That place is sick,” Kota said.

  Louis and GJ looked at each other.

  “One at a time, is all. We can’t all sneak off at once. They’ll notice. Vegan boy, you wanna go first?”

  GJ and Louis exchanged another glance, then they exchanged shrugs and GJ nodded.

  “Okay then. Kota, take Louis and run interference. We’ll be back in forty-five minutes.”

  He walked past the counselor on one side and GJ followed him, trying to act casual. The boys ducked behind one cabin on the east side of the camp and went into the woods. Roger snuck through the trees and down into a ravine that was deep enough to obscure them. A creek trickled along its bottom. They followed the creek bed and walked westward until they were out of sight of the rest of the campers when Roger took off running. GJ found he was able to keep up. The boys laughed and turned it into a race, leaving the Camp Black Rock out-of-bounds markers in their wake.

  “Can’t catch me,” Roger said.

  GJ could catch him, but had no idea where they were going. He was content to chase. Deeper and deeper into the woods they went with that creek. They jogged, sprinted, climbed and ducked as the course required and had gone more than a quarter mile when Roger stopped. GJ was thankful and the boys panted, leaning over, hands on knees, and caught their breath. They were a
full twenty minutes into their forty-five minute journey.

  “Where are we?” GJ said in between deep inhalations.

  “Look over there,” Roger said.

  GJ stood up straight and scanned the direction Roger was pointing. A small shack stood in amongst the trees. It was made of cinder blocks with a tin roof that was rusted. Its one window stood open and the metal door was slightly ajar. Weeds and scrub brush had grown up around it as if it hadn’t been used in years.

  *****

  “What is this bad ass place?” Louis asked Kota.

  “Can’t tell you.”

  “Where is it?”

  “In the woods. You’ll see. Be patient.”

  “Well, what’s there?” Louis said.

  “Calm down, man. You go next.”

  “But he said forty-five minutes and we only have an hour of free time.”

  Kota rolled his eyes. “Then you’ll go tomorrow. Maybe vegan boy will tell you all about it tonight when you two homos are making out.”

  “Shut up.” Louis said.

  “I’m kidding. Relax,” Kota said. Then he laughed and nudged Louis who eventually laughed along with him.

  *****

  Roger opened the door, tearing the grown up brush away as he yanked. The inside was small, maybe five feet square. It was covered with cobwebs so thick, the open window was no longer see through. In the center of the back wall was a post with a hook on it. The concrete floor was stained with the blood of many a gutted animal. It was a hunter’s shack left from a quarter century ago, back before the camp was there and the place was sanctioned as a state wildlife preserve.

  GJ stepped in and looked around. “Cool,” he said.

  “Isn’t it?” Roger replied.

  GJ ran his fingers up and down the post, then looked at the chains and old ropes and other things that hung from the walls, or lay on the ground. “Great idea for a story,” GJ said.

  “You write stories?” Roger asked.

  “Yep. I was trying to think one up for the campfire later.”

  “Well, this should make an excellent ghost story,” Roger said.

  GJ intended to turn to him with a smile. He’d intended to nod his head and maybe pat his new friend on the back in thanks. What he did was drop to the floor under the crushing blow of a rock that hit him in the head, just behind his right ear. Then what he did was pass out.