Not The Best of Times
Gabriel Duncan

Not the best of times, I thought as I studied a map, being battered by rain. We were
six miles west of our camp. My finger followed the trail we were on. Smudged ink
runs together as the rain gets worse. Luckily, I was prepared and had brought a
spare map. That map was not going to be seen in this weather, though. It was new
and I did not want it to be another casualty of the storm.

"C'mon, guys," I called through the storm. "Let's move out. We're six miles away.
We should be there by sundown."

We would have been there earlier if I had measured the distances between markers
correctly. We turned off into the brush two miles too soon. Realizing that I had
made this mistake, I casually took the group through the brush and found my way
back to the trail. As patrol leader of the pyros I lead the twelve boys as we trudged
onwards to the campsite. Inside our group was an adult supervisor, making sure
that we didn't get lost. He obviously had not noticed our change in course.

Our Senior Patrol Leader- who was supposed to be responsible for us (the scouts)
and guide us to the campsite was back in the crowd . . . mingling. He put me in
charge of leading the boys. So far, it had been just me pulling the weight. Adam,
the SPL, has been slacking off since this trip was in planning. He was charged with
making reservations at the park and telling the office where we would be. He had
not completed his responsibilities. Instead, he passed them on to someone else.

Jim, one of the adult leaders in our troop, had not found a campsite open on the
26th. When Adam, our responsible SPL, found out, he threw a fit. He explined that
everyone in the troo would be expecting it next weekend. We had to get it! When
we asked him wy he couldn't find one himself he made excuses. Adam asked us
(Jim and I) to find a campsite. So, "doing our duty" Jim and I looked for a campsite
that was open on the 26th. And we found it. A remote hike-in camp in the Janet P.
Arthur State Park in California.

From the parking lot, our campsite was twelve miles away. Six by now; we had
gone half way. Our uncharted excursion took up more time than it should have. I
picked up the pace as we marched towards our camp. Adam came forward from the
ranks and wanted to know why we were marching faster. Once I told him that I had
made a miscalculation, he jumped down my throat. I should have known how to
read the contour lines of my map. I shot back at him that he should have gotten
reservations earlier so we wouldn't have to hike in this god-forsaken place. We
exchanged comments briefly and then went on to walking.

Adam is a little bastard. Ever since I joined the troop, we have been fighting for
control. Even though he is two years younger than I, he posesses superior rank.
When there was an open space for Senior Patrol Leader, Adam received it on default,
since he was in the troop for longer. I was promised the role of Patrol Leader but
didn't receive it until months later. Adam was in my patrol, so I was never able to
be in a leadership role; except when Adam didn't want to do something himself, he
sent me to do it. Most of the scouts are pretty inexperienced, so I have to show
them how to perform certain skills (which makes me the easier followed of us.)

At the peak of a hill, I measured the time until sundown with my hands and
orientated the map to where we stood. The boys collapsed to the ground to rest and
water themselves. Those with enough energy walked off into the brush.

We had one more mile to go, with an hour and fifteen minutes until sundown, we
would be cutting it close. This break could only last five minutes. I drank some
water from my bottle and talked with some of the other boys about arrival times and
sunlight. In five minutes we were back on the trail. The sky was red as we came in
on our camp. A simple campsite with a picnic table and fire pit. It wasn't much, but
it would do for a night. Too bad we were staying five. It was in the middle of a
large clearing of grass. Right before the picnic table, my foot slipped in the mud and
I landed on my ass. Luckily, I was wearing a poncho and didn't have to change.

The dining fly was erected over the picnic table, as well as the boys' tents. The
boys got to cooking dinner. We had missed dinner by an hour or so because of our
late hike. I wasn't the only reason for not arriving on time. We had started out an
hour late, waiting for Alex, one of the boys to arrive. Once we began, the rain made
it hard for our caravan to get up the hills lying around the park. Adam and I sat in
our tent watching them, waiting for our rations to heat. Two boys, Ted and Ronald
brought steak and were trying to cook it on a mini-stove. Dark hit after Ted and
Ronald had finished cooking their steak. The piece of meat looked miserable. Half of
it was charred from hanging off the small pan and the other half looked underdone.
It was all cooked, though. And the boys seemed to enjoy it. The Pyros sat around
me as the other boys scattered to their tents to talk amongst themselves. The rain
picked up once more, trying to rip open the dining fly and lash us.

It, the rain, seemed almost to be seeking us out. The clouds, blackened the sky, the
only light we had was by the lantern in the dining fly. Outside there was the terrible
howl of wind going through trees. Well, that's what my brain was telling me. But
my mind was almost sure that the trees themselves were howling. A cloudburst
formed and the moon was visible for a split second, it looked yellow, sick, with a ring
around it.

"Are you sure we should stay here for five days?" I asked Adam over the noise.

"The worst of the storm will pass over us tonight." Adam said coolly.

I listened to the wind and the metal clanging of the dining fly's frame. Outside, it
sounded like there were grown men slamming themselves against the flimsy metal of
the structure. But I knew it was just a bad storm. The Pyros played cards for an
hour and decided it was time to go to sleep. It was only nine o'clock, an odd time to
grow tired at. I made an announcement for each tent to wash their dishes and go to
bed. Tomorrow is going to be a long day.

That night, I laid awake listening to the sounds of Adams breathing against the
storm. What interested me most was that the intensity was always the same. The
storm never seemed to reach a climax. Around two o'clock I did go to sleep.

And I woke up at six sharp. Adam was drooling on himself. The cold hit me before
anything else did. I listened for any sounds that might tell me the others were
awake. There wasn't anything to hear, at first. Then, some sound broke in. Paper
blowing in the wind. Slowly the sounds of the storm came back to me; like a bad
memory. At first this memory wasn't even a memory. It was a dream. And, after
the dream wasn't a dream, the memory wasn't a memory anymore either. The
storm was still outside waiting for me.

In the tent, I got dressed for another wet day. Condensation was formed on the
walls and ceiling after a night with two boys inside. It seemed I wasn't destined to
stay dry. I unzipped the door and stepped out into the rain. The sky was black. I
figured that was because the sun was still to rise. The dining fly was still intact and
none of the tents had blown away. I stepped into the dining fly. There was Jason,
holding his nose.

"Morning," He greeted me.

I returned his greeting, "Hey."

"What do you think of the storm?" I asked him.

He looked puzzled for a second. Rain suddenly found its way in and whipped across
our legs. The question was left unanswered as he took his hand off his nose and
pressed his finger against the opening of the offending nostril to see if it was still
bleeding. After that, he got up, turned away and walked out of the dining fly. I was
left to sit there for a few seconds, pondering what he would have said, if he had
stayed long enough to say anything. I went back into my tent and found Adam
dressing.

"Hey," I greeted him.

He paused from struggling with his zipper, "'Morning."

"It is." I said back.

I grabbed a breakfast pack and water. Adam finished up and followed me out. We
made small talk waiting for our coffee to warm up. Ted and Ronald came in and sat
with us. They used their mini-stove once again to make coffee for themselves.

"What are we doing today?" One of them asked.

"Hiking," Adam replied simply.

"Are you sure?" Ronald asked. I noticed he was wearing shorts.

"Yes, I'm sure."

"How far are we going?" Ted asked.

"A few miles. Nothing to strenuous. Not like the hike up here."

I spaced out, imagining us walking up a muddy hill, against the wind.

"Hello!" Jim popped in with the wind.

"Hey Jim," We said in unison.

Jim stretched and sat next to me. "It's a great day isn't it?"

His excitement came across to me as sarcasm and I laughed. They all turned to me
and cocked their heads.

"It's sarcasm." I explained my reason for laughing. "The weather out there is what
flash floods are made of and he's inside here saying, 'It's such a nice day!'."

They paused to evaluate the truth in my words, and then went back to their food. It
was at this point that I noticed the dining fly had been lifted and inch or so off the
ground. A draft came in and blew out all flames in the tent. You might not be able
to imagine a simple draft blowing out a portable propane stove. And I still can't
believe that I saw it happen before me. In a moment of lucidity, we rushed out and
fastened the poles more to the ground. Once back in, Ted made mention of the
storm.

"That's a pretty powerful storm," said Ted.

The others were back to breakfast.

"Yeah," I agreed, "When do you think it'll let up?"

"Maybe tomorrow." Ted said.

"That's what Adam said last night." I told Ted.

"Oh," Ted thought, "Well maybe noon then. Storms can't last too long. Not in
California."

And there went Ted. Back into his own world, with everyone else. I sat there
watching Ted, Ronald, Adam and Jim in a daze. They were talking about the hike. I
focused on the rain and the wind. Among the sounds of trees moaning and wind
throwing itself around were the sounds of waking boys. I heard the sounds of
happiness. The sounds of boys making fart jokes and throwing things at each other.

"Do you have that map?" Jim asked me.

"What?" I asked.

"Do you have that map?" He asked me again.

"The map of this park?" I asked him.

"Yes," He cocked his head. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," I answered, "Just fine. I'm just a little spooked by the storm."

"Yeah . . ." A pause that seemed to be filled with thought. "Can you grab the map?"

"Sure." I replied.

Back into the rain I went. The map (that I used yesterday) was to be found in the
first pocket of my backpack. Turning, I grabbed the compass, knowing that he
wouldn't have one this early. I handed it to Jim when I came back. Adam was now
eating his rations. I grabbed mine and started munching as Jim orientated the map.

"We can go five miles into the valley and then turn back." Ted offered.

A strange feeling washed over me and I left my food to go check on the progress of
the boys.

"Alright, guys," I yelled over the noise, "Time to wake up."

Nothing moved. I didn't hear a thing. I unzipped the door to the first tent and
peered in. Two sleeping boys. I shook one and told him to wake up. No movement.
I shook him once more, this time a bit harder. Still no movement. I tried the other
boy. Same results.

"This is weird." I said to myself.

I felt for a pulse. Strong and steady, they weren't dead. So what would I do now? I
zipped up that tent and looked around the others. Same: pulse, breathing and no
response. I numbly walked back into the tent. For once, I didn't care about the
storm. And, for once, I didn't hear it. The tent felt a bit warm and I wished that I
had put on some shorts instead of these insulated pants.

" . . .North-east towards this ridge, how does that sound?" A question was asked.

"What?" I asked.

"We can hike to this ridge and climb down." Adam told me.

All of a sudden, I was back in the rain. I realized that the wind was whipping my
legs yet again. Ted, Ronald, Adam and Jim were studying the map. Jim's mape was
up-side down.

"Jim," I grabbed his attention. "You have the map turned up-side down."

Jim looked from me to the map, rotated it to its correct position and judged it there.
"Are you sure?"

"Yes," I came forward and pointed at the compass rose. "You line this 'N' up with
the 'N' on your compass."

"I knew that!" Jim took the map and compass back.

"I don't want to go hiking anymore!" declared Adam.

"Me neither." said Ronald.

Ted suggested, "Let's stay here."

"Alright." Jim gave the map and compass back to me.

"Ted, Ronald go check on the other boys. Make sure they're awake." I told them.

"Alright." They left the dining fly.

I asked Adam, "Is it still raining?"

Jim stuck his head out of the fly and was greeted by a blast of cold wind and stinging
rain. "A little bit."

"It should clear up by noon." Adam told us.

Jim nodded his head in agreement.

"Alright." I looked around, "What do we do now?"

"I don't know." Adam said, "I feel like going back to sleep."

"Yeah . . ." Jim got up and left with Adam.

"Great." I said to myself.

I sat there for a few minutes recapping what was happening. Ted and Ronald came
back. And they looked alarmed.

"They're not waking up!" Ted exclaimed.

"And the storm is getting worse." Ronald added.

They are noticing the storm. "Did you just notice the storm?"

"Yeah," Ronald told me.

"Listen to the storm for a few seconds." I watched them for any changes. "Doesn't
it seem big? Bigger than any storm we could ever have back home?"

"Yeah." They answered.

"Are you getting scared?"

They nodded.

"Do you remember when Jim was trying to read the map?" I asked them.
"Remember when he had it upside down?"

"And then you told him. But he thought it was fine." Ronald was remembering.

I proposed a question that would most likely scare them. "How about we leave
now?"

"What about everyone else?" Ted asked.

I wondered how we could wake the others up. "When did you notice the storm
again?"

"What?" Ted asked me.

"For a while, you didn't notice the storm." I asked, " What made you notice it
again?"

"When they wouldn't wake up. And then I heard the storm. Like, it just dropped on
me." Ronald told me.

Ted looked around, "Where did everyone else go to?"

"They went to sleep." I answered them.

"We'd better wake them up," Ronald thought aloud.

I zipped my jacket and went to the tent that I shared with Adam. "Adam, wake up."
I nudged him a little.

"Go away. I'm sleeping." Adam told me.

"You can't sleep. You need to get up, right now. There's an emergency. " I lied,
"Ted . . . he had an accident."

Sure enough, Adam sprung up. There was a second's lag before he started putting
on some pants and a jacket. "Is that the same storm?"

"Yeah."

"It's gotten worse. Why didn't you tell me?" He asked.

"I've been trying to tell you." I grabbed Adam's shoulder and led him out of the tent
to the dining fly. "Stay here. Listen to the storm. Didn't it get worse?"

Good, he was focused on the storm. I ran to one of the open tents. Ronald was
over Jim trying to wake him up. Jim wasn't responding.

"I can't get him to wake up." Ronald turned to me.

"JIM!" I shouted, "FIRE!"

Jim jumped up and shivered. "Jesus, it's cold!"

"There's no fire, either." I told him, "There is, however, a different type of
emergency going on. Go sit in the fly and we'll brief you."

We left Jim to get dressed, Ted and Ronald shouted at the other boys, and I went to
my tent to check the batteries in my flashlight and made sure my map was still
there. We are going to get out of this place before the day is over. I looked at the
map more closely to find out where we were. Poking my head out, I was able to
locate two landmarks on the map. But, these landmarks were three miles away from
the site we were to be at. What's more, I couldn't find the name of the campsite we
were in. Or that it even existed. I double checked and came back to the fly.

"What's going on?" Jim asked me.

"There is something wrong with this place." I started listing the facts, "When we
came here, there was a storm. Over the course of sixteen hours, all of you had
forgotten about it. And over the course of sixteen hours, you kept telling me that it
would let up. During those sixteen hours the storm got worse. Jim, you couldn't
even read a map a few minutes ago. Ted and Ronald, you two had no idea there
was a storm until the fly almost flew away. Adam, you didn't know anything was
going on.

"I was the only one who knew about the storm. And I hit that spot where I didn't
care about it either. But I snapped out of it. And I was able to get Ted and Ronald
out of it by scaring them. That's how we woke the rest of you up. We told you that
there was a fire. Or that there was some serious emergency.

"If we stay here any longer, it will start happening again. And I don't know how long
I can try and keep you all awake. We need to leave." I pointed at the map that was
already on the picnic table. "We're three miles away from the campsite that we
should be in. And, we're camping in a site that doesn't exist."

Jim looked at the map. "Did you double check this?"

"Yes." I told him, "When we were walking here, I thought I took a wrong turn. But I
was going in the right direction. I followed the map all the way there- here. But ,
somehow, we came all the way over here. And I would have noticed a change like
this."

Adam stood and glared at me. "You fucked it up." Adam said contemptiously.

"Fuck you," I was on the edge. "Who's the one that woke you up, you fucking
zombie? I could have let you stay here."

Adam became quiet.

"That's right, Adam," I said, "Shut the fuck up."

The other people in the tent became nervous after seeing me take control in such an
aggressive manner. I was completely disregarding Adam as a person.

"We're leaving in five minutes." I told them. "Pack everything up. I'm not waiting
for anything or anyone. Let's get out of here."

They filed out of the fly and started packing. "Com'on Adam."

I packed my sleeping bag quickly and helped Adam with his. Next, we took down
the tent in record speed. Most of the boys were ready. When we left, the dining fly
was still standing, as well as a few tents. As I left, I thought to myself that I would
never see those again. The storm was as strong as ever when we left.

One mile became two quickly as Jim and I lead the troop towards the parking lot.
The storm was shrinking in intensity. Jim and I both had maps and compasses and
were keeping track of our heading. Every once in a while we would stop and make
sure that we were going the right way. Five miles turned to ten. We were very
close. Only two more miles to go. Jim and I checked the map and made sure there
was no way we would get lost following this trail and picked up the pace to a jog. I
jogged at the back, pushing the boys along.

"C'mon, guys." I shouted above the storm. "Go a little faster, only a mile left!"

The boys groaned and pushed on. Their adrenaline was driving them farther than it
ever would have driven them in their young lives. In my dreams, I already knew
how it felt to run away from something so large and shapeless. And that fear made
me run even faster.

Half way there and I took a head count. I didn't see Adam with us. I told Jim to
keep going and I ran back a few hundred feet. Adam was no where in sight. I
sprinted to the front of the group and told him that our Senior Patrol Leader was
missing. His adrenaline was already throbbing and he told me that we HAD to get to
the car, I said it myself, we can't wait for anyone.

A quarter of a mile away, I saw something that looked like Jim's Suburban. "Jim!" I
shouted to him, "Hit panic."

He did and the car exploded in lights and horns. It gave me the energy to run
faster. We broke into a sprint for the car. Jim opened the back and we stuffed our
packs in. He didn't even wait for us to put on our seatbelts as Jim pushed the chunk
of metal into four wheel drive and started backing out. My heart was beating as fast
as a tribal drum. Out of the parking lot, we pulled onto the dirt road. We jumped
with every bump in the road. I became more relaxed as we put the site behind us.

You can't get lost on a one way road. And that made me even happier as the road
opened into the junction that would lead us back through the park, past the gates
and to the highway. We drove past the sign that read, "Gates". I heard the mud
splash against the pole as Jim hit the accelerator. Everyone in the Suburban looked
at each other and let out their breath. I slouched in my seat and let myself drift
asleep to the winding of the roads that would take us out of this god-forsaken place.

When I woke up, I found myself in my sleeping bag. The cold hit me before anything
else did. And I knew I was back in the middle of it. I put on the same warm
clothing and poked my head outside. Nothing had changed. The storm was still
there, waiting for me.