Leave No Trace 1

His Scouts Are Almost Men

Vili Jaša Žitnik is on the cusp of a nervous breakdown. His best friend Dane Poole has been quite publically arrested for child pornography and Vili is certain that the trail will lead back to his computer, and the pictures there will lead to Joey MacPherson and Alistair Finley. His tension grows as he waits for the inevitable dominoes to begin to fall in his direction.

Vili and Harold Palmer are scheduled to take four Scouts and nine Cubs on a weekend camping trip that will encourage the oldest Cubs to continue on to Scouting. Villi expects to be arrested before the trip, but numbly follows through with preparations. Determined to evade arrest, he decides to end his life on the camping trip. The Cubmaster, Harold Palmer, can bring the thirteen boys home.

Vili's mind shifts as the noisy gaggle of boys bounce onto the pontoon boat. It might have been Joey MacPherson and Alistair Finley being so readily at hand. He had crossed the line from wanting to having boys. That had been a bold and self-annihilating decision. Not so much a decision as a consuming craving he flirted with as he groomed Joey. His first touch doomed him. Unrepentant Vili decides to rage, rage against his dying light.

Their usual campsite is just rugged enough to impress the Cubs; just toilet-by-the-gazebo to draw a crowd. Their campsite has other groups around it. While their thirteen boys run riot through the trees, stretching their legs, Vili works on Howard.

“It’s going to be a pain herding these cats away from the other groups. We’ll get no rest!”

Howard has more confidence, “We’ve kept them in line before.”

“Easy for you to say. Your Cubs are young. These boys I brought are teens, well, Joey is. There are girls over there.”

“What’s the worst? Running around tents with flashlights?” Howard thinks the four boys Vili brought are pretty young for hounddoging. The boys and girls might whisper their excitement in the night, boldly take a clumsy kiss; see each other partly dressed. Howard always viewed a camping trip as a rite of passage. This annual trip is tween boyhood and manhood.

There are older boys in Vili’s troop, but Vili leaves them behind. These musky, swashbuckling teens have no time to baby Howard’s little Cubs. While Vili brought his youngest Scouts, Howard brought his oldest Cubs. Vili is personable enough and his choice of mentors has always worked. Modern choices have eroded Scouting. Cubs and Scouts share the same basement space, so by having meetings back to back, there is a mingling between the groups that fosters a sense of natural progression. “What are you thinking?” Howard asks.

Vili puts the map on the pontoon boat’s table. He points to a large island up the chain of lakes. It lies near the entrance to a swift river. “I know this spot. Totally wilderness, the boys will love it. We go there all the time.”

“That is a long way from help.”

Vili traces a line from the narrows along the west shore. His finger continues up a wide river at the end. “Lots of boats make a run through this lake. We will just be on the other side.” Vili thinks Howard is an old fussbudget. A straight arrow, Robert Baden-Powell nannying his little boys. “You have your satellite phone, don’t you?”

The boat trip out drains the boys’ enthusiasm. They settle into drowsy activities no different than an endless family drive. Howard is content to share the helm with the four scouts. Vili just feels the freedom from looking over his shoulder constantly. The nine Cubs mingle about the pontoon boat’s deck like students in a cafeteria. Vili studies the groups and pairings. He revels in the horseplay and the innocent intimacies of one boy cuddling up to another. One boy might shed his outer clothes to flaunt his graceful limbs in the sunshine. Another is shy about taking his shirt off. Vili knows which one to groom.

Once at the distant island, it falls to Vili’s four boys to make the Cubs welcome as the men gather firewood. Vili’s four Scouts direct the cubs in setting up the tents under the trees. Each Scout will take a tent with several younger boys. The men appropriately share a tent. It is a good campsite, but Vili lied, he has never gone this far.

The two men organize the first meal as the pack of boys play flag tag in the surrounding woods. “You think they will stick with it?” Vili wonders about the three eleven-year-olds. Cognitive dissonance, Vili never expects to lead his troop again. He is just talking through the motions.

“Alistair’s dad works with you, doesn’t he? I think Alister is still keen. Pastor Finley is Den Leader. I guess you know that.”

“Alistair likes to stay and watch Troop meetings.”

“Didn’t know that,” Howard responds. He chats on, enjoying the shrill sounds of the boy’s game. “Bernie Barr’s mother is the new Den Leader. That is my young group. Bernie is almost ten, so I broke the rule and let him represent his Den. You know, bring back stories to his friends. Mamma wanted to come along.”

“That would have spoiled the trip.”

“You got that right!” Howard grunts.

Howard has the fire collapsing to a fine bed of coals. They will try their hand at fishing, but first night, it is buffalo burgers and juicy venison smokies. The boys will eat prodigiously. The camp coolers are packed with food of every sort. Stephen Girard’s mother insists on vegan choices for her boy. Howard pulls two patties out. Wouldn’t feed that to a dog, he thinks.

Howard shares his thoughts on the other two eleven-year-olds. “Denys Gavrilyuk, don’t know if you will get him.”

“Family moving this summer?”

“No, just not all that interested.

“Maybe we can turn that around, this weekend.” Out on the island, it is easy for Vili to talk as if his world is not collapsing all around him. Scouting has always brought him closer to his two passions. The one has tripped Vili up. The other is the wilderness.

“The third one is Ade? That’s his name?” Vili asks.

“Ade is only ten,” Howard replies. “Figure we should start something on the grill? No, Sten Clemensen is the other eleven-year-old. He’s in my Den. He is pretty keen to be a Scout.” Howard likes the boy. He liked the mix in his Den this past year. Only a couple of boys dropped away. Sadly, the boys pass through the Cubs so quickly. Vili watches the meat go on the grill.

“Sten? Which one is Sten?”

Howard glances away from the fire. Denys is coming out from between the trees. Howard guesses the boy has had his fill of nature. If the cooking meat does not catch his attention, Denys will be off to his tent and into his electronic game. “You know him, I think. The boys in his Den call him Otter.”

The first night goes much as the men expect; empty bellies ravage the barbecue, inhale bags of chips and soda. Vili lifts his guitar and tries a few songs out on the boys. The Cubs are appreciative, but squirm a little at the well worn camp choices. Joey calls out, “Baby Shark, Vili, do Baby Shark.” The Cubs groan about the childish song, but Joey’s fellow Scouts support Joey.

Vili makes a sour face, exaggerated for the young boy's benefit. He settles his guitar more firmly, lifts his hand above the strings dramatically, he looks around the circle, balking on the downward stroke. David starts to groan during one fake and Vili shoots a gotcha finger at him. David laughs and rolls sideways into Ede. The other Cubs laugh at David and the way he squirms about, drawing more attention to himself.

The nine Cubs lean toward Vili in anticipation. When he has captured all of them, he draws the first stanza out very slowly, “Baby shark, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo.” The doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo’s come out at tempo.

Vili settles the Cubs down with a few quiet songs. As the fire crackles, he starts to spin a Mad Trapper ghost story that climaxes with his four Scouts attacking the young boys with threatening knives and axes. There is skinny dipping where the little boys prance excitedly to the water, some cupping their privates shyly, till shriek-worthy lake water makes them forget their modesty. Finally, there are flashlight raids far into the night while the men pretend to sleep.

“Vili?” Cam Huden is outside the men’s tent.

“Everything okay Cam?” The men can hear the frustration in the twelve-year-old’s voice. Old hands, Vili and Howard expected this on the first night.

“Bernie is crying,” Cam explains.

“I’ll deal with this,” Howard patiently replies. He follows Cam back to the boy’s tent.

“Hey buddy, you doing okay?” Scrunched up face and stifled sobs. First time away, and a phone call home is not going to help this situation, never does, Howard sighs. “I’ve got an idea. Grab your bag and let’s go see what’s up next door.” The sniffling boy stays close to him.

The second tent is silent. “Stephen?” Howard starts. When there is stirring in the tent, he unzips the door. Stephen Girard sits up beside Sten. “Bernie is going to sleep with you guys.” Stephen nods. He just shoves his tent mate away to make some room. Stephen helps Bernie settle between them. “See you in the morning boys.” Stephen is a rock.

By breakfast, Bernie is better. The morning is unstructured. Sten calls Howard over to check some mushrooms on the forest floor. Howard squats beside the boy. They talk about edibles and Howard feels the bliss of sharing what he knows with someone who will learn. There are leaves and roots he can point out. The other boys, who tend to gravitate to Sten, lose interest. They fall away, except for Stephen. The three of them step through the bush, Sten full of curiosity, Stephen his familiar shadow.

The second night, Vili asks Harold to join him on the pontoon boat after the boys have gone to sleep. It is an amiable conversation until Vili shoots Harold in the face with a pistol muffled by a heavy shirt. All in now, Vili pushes the pontoon boat out where the current can draw it away. He hopes it will be lost deeper in the wilderness. Vili swims back.

The boys learn that the boat has drifted away. The men tried to go after it, but Harold drowned. They are all just boys. Most take the news of Howard’s death with sociopathic indifference to a death not in the family. Some like Sten, who has lost his mother and liked the man, take it very hard. Most boys are more concerned with what comes next. They look to Vili to solve the problem.

Vili tells the boys they must wait for rescue. It will happen quickly, but it is wiser to be careful with the supplies they have left. “Be prepared,” Vili soberly tells the shocked boys. “Scouting builds character, making friends,” Vili smiles, then gets so serious. “This is what it is about. Learning the skills, using the skills that keep you alive in the wilderness. It’s not about the merit badges boys. Sten, Alistair, Denys, next year you will be Scouts. These four boys are now your Patrol leaders. There is no more important time to listen to them. You other Cubs do your best, and everything will work out fine.” Vili offers the thirteen boys his winning smile, tinged with appropriate grief, and tells them they will be okay. Vili rearranges sleeping, taking eleven-year-old Alistair into his tent.

The boys are very twenty first century. They are 911-connected to help at all times. They think nothing of phoning parents in the middle of school to ask for something. It is inconceivable to them that help is not already on the way. Vili needs to occupy them; keep the disaster off their minds. Vili sends some boys fishing for extra food, while others forage for edibles on the large island.

“What the heck are you guys doing?” Joey’s question is rhetorical. Cam Hudon, his little brother, and two other Cubs have been dragging logs together to make a fort. “You’re supposed to be looking for wild food we can eat!”

“We don’t want to … I don’t know what to look for … Come help us lift this.”

Joey looks in a ball cap the boys are using for a basket, “These look like weeds. Cam, you are in charge of these kids, what the heck?” Cam is muscling the fourth course of logs up on their blockhouse fort.

“If a bear comes along, we will be safe in here,” Cam’s brother Devon explains.

“Just Chil, Joey. Ronald is gonna catch some fish. We have plenty of food … It’s not like we’re stuck here.” Joey throws up his hands.

Vili has a rifle for bear protection. There might be wild game. Somewhere nearby, Joey is yelling at someone. Perhaps he is expecting too much from a thirteen-year-old boy. “What have you found boys?” Two of the Cubs are absorbed in something on the ground between them.

Stephen looks up, “Lech found a snail. Sten says we can eat snails.”

Vili squats beside the two boys. “Sten is right, it is a delicacy in France.” Lech scrunches up his face, delicacy is an unfamiliar word. Vili explains. “I’ve tasted snail. Don’t worry boys, I won’t make you eat one. What else have you found?” Stephen shows Vili a substantial bag of wild mushrooms.

Nearby, Sten, the boy nicknamed Otter, is kicking at a rotten log. Vili shakes his head as the boy acts out his fantasy. Sten takes a fighting stance and shadow boxes an army of assailants. Then it is on to the Big Boss. Sten executes a roundhouse kick accompanied by a martial noise. Little anarchists, boys are prone to break things. There is a second kick, then the boy is picking through the mulch.

Vili understands that the boy's attention jumps from one curiosity to another. “You’re really taking it out on that log, Otter.” Sten gives Vili a smile that stirs the man’s blood. There is an Opey-quality to the eleven-year-old. It comes out in his average face and his transparent personality. He is the clean cut neighbor’s kid who cuts the grass (shirt off) for ten dollars.  

“Look, earthworms!” The boy pokes his nose into the end of the log. “Maybe there is a snake or lizard. Howard says they taste like chicken.” A flicker of sadness crosses the boy’s face at the mention of the Cubmaster. Sten turns his gaze back on the man. “Dad says frog legs taste like chicken. Do you think you can shoot something? Are you a good shot?”

Vili pats the rifle he is carrying. “Would you rather have a rabbit or a deer? Or do you plan to eat one of those worms there?” The boy looks like he is actually taking the choice seriously.

There must be discipline. When it is found that Denys has hoarded a stash of beef jerky in his bag, Vili has his Scouts flog the boy’s bare bum with a willow branch. Scout camping is manhood-feats of strength and a naughty skinny dip. This is a locker room pecking order the Cubs understand. Even little Bernie is long past T-ball’s everybody wins. The boy’s absorb this development in silence.

This unexpected side of Vili is quite an adjustment. It is like sitting in your classroom with a likeable teacher. The kind who listens to your serious issue, laughs along with you when someone lets off a monumental fart, then suddenly he is screaming at the class so loudly that you want to cover your ears. His anger convinces you that everyone deserves it in some way, but it frightens you.

The flogging worries Sten. He checks the contents of his pack, fearing that the camping gear and snacks he has brought and has not shared will get him into trouble. When he has a moment, he hides his daypack in the forest.

That night there are no tent raids. The boys sit talking about their fears, exchanging facts that are not facts to make themselves feel more secure. Even the Scouts are very worried. Their low whispers come to a staggered stop. The boys in the four tents can hear Alistair’s muffled noises.

In the morning, Vili explains Alisrair is having nightmares. Like all the Cubs, Alistair is scared. Alistair fends off questions. Some boys offer sympathy, but they do not wish to embarrass the boy. Alistair is not the only boy who has been crying in the night.

In the afternoon, Lech Sikora fights with Joey MacPherson because the Scout is being bossy. Vili calls a meeting of the Troop. He reminds them they will be rescued very soon. They must keep order. The older boys must be listened to. They must be obeyed or no one will be safe. There is a second disturbing caning. The Cubs notice that Joey and Lech were both fighting, but it is Lech whose pants are pulled down.

Sten watches this with dread. The willow wand leaves long welts across Lech’s rump and thighs. Joey’s crotch tents and there is snickering. Vili calls a stop to that. His Scouts are older, boys becoming men, and growing up means natural grownup urges. The younger boys should be sensitive to that. Vili reminds them with a smile that when they wake up, or skinny dip together, things pop up. This draws some needed laughter. He orders the boys to strip and take frank looks at each other. They need to recognize their differences and similarities; not be so childish.

There are further changes to the sleeping arrangements. The Cubs are switched around so Lech and Joey can share a tent and learn to get along. Vili has the largest tent, so he says it would be fair to add a boy. He picks Sten. Sten says he wants to stay in Stephan’s tent. He is frightened of the man and senses there is something wrong about the night noises.

This further stubbornness will not be brooked. Vili tells Joey he knows what must be done. Sten’s bare skin is caned until the tears run silently down his face. Sten does not like the way Vili’s fingers check the welts afterward. Vili tells Sten to get his things and move them to his tent. He forbids the boy to dress until he has done what he is told.

To break the tension, Vili tells a funny story to the naked boys. His authority transforms the uncomfortable nudity to an inconsequential voice. The stories drift to dirty jokes and that starts a round of sharing. David shows off his excitement in a swift thrust of his hips. Sten stamps through the fire circle with his sleeping bag. On the second trip, he is sobbing loudly, clutching his fleece. Unexpectedly, Sten runs into the woods to be alone.