The boys' camp sounded so much more exotic than the camp I went to for a week, Tuc-a-batch-ee, which to me said Camp Tuck-Me-In -- where the girls go to learn how to throw like a girl. The camp itself reinforced my concept -- we slept in cabins and swam in a pool. I always wondered what it would be like to stay at the boys' camp. After all, I read The Hardy Boys, not Nancy Drew.
Finally I got my chance, they turned the camp into a bed and breakfast. Wouldn't you know? My friend and I got a nice cabin-like room over the old "pool house," to the pool the boys never used. At least, I got to sit out on the deck under the stars and imagine sleeping there as a kid. It was closer to Camp-Tuck-Me-In. We were in a tiny house -- kitchen, living room, jacuzzi, and feather bed.
And then . . . at 4a.m. as I sat out on the deck. I heard a noise. It didn't sound like deer, or a dog, or any familiar creature. But surely it had to have been.
Right then I thought Camp Tuck-Me-In was the right place for me after all.
--me strauss Letting me be