Four Strong Winds

By
As I tip toed nervously to my tent I felt a hand slap down on my right shoulder. I turned back only to see little Malcom’s perfect teeth grinning Back at me. Although He might have been a few months older than me I still had a couple of feet on him, which I tended to use to my advantage when him and Alex got in fights.

“This is it, this is where we’ll be spending’ the next month.” I stared at his gleaming smile and turned to the pile of rags that Malcom called a tent. I tried to look impressed but surely failed. He looked displeased for a moment then happily trotted up the stairs to the platform tent. As I neared the stairs I got a first glimpse of my counselor. He had the hair of Goldie Locks that laid in an uncombed bush on his head. Basically he looked like he just didn’t care about anything.
His voice was muffled when he talked “I’m Al.” he raised his hand and I gave it a firm shake like my mom taught me.
“I’m Jack.” I replied.
Before dinner we unpacked ourselves and chose bunks. I got the top left bunk above the one boy who snored, Alex. My bunk nearly touched the top of the tent and I often brushed against it when I slept. On the walk to dinner I discovered What some of the returning campers were complaining about. It was a narrow steep path with many jagged rocks and it was about a half mile.
After people had started clearing their places from the dinner table and marching the extra food to a large window bye the kitchen, Paul, a red bearded man, stood up on a bench and announced over the chatter that we would meat in the lodge at seven forty-five for campfire.
When the clock struck the forty-fifth minute, people started piling into the lodge where you could hear the faint sound of music behind the clattering of foot traffic. Once every one had a spot to sit and all was quite Paul began to speak again. Two men sat behind him holding guitars and fiddling with sheets of music. Paul concluded his speach be joining everyone into song. The words ran through me ears like silk
Four strong winds
That run lonely
Seven seas
That run high
All these thing to me
Will never change
Suddenly I didn’t care if I had the top left bunk I didn’t care if I didn’t have much to relate to with my tent mates I didn’t miss home anymore. All I cared about was that I was home, the place where I belong.





Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

bRealTime banner ad on the left side
Site Feedback