Everything is More Exciting during Mega-Week

Week Six was Sportsman Mega-Week at Wild Oak, although we hadn’t really defined what that meant by the time campers began to arrive.  And I had no idea that it was going to be one of the longest and most challenging weeks of my life.  We had been warned that one of our male campers had a form of autism call Asperger’s Syndrome.  I had never dealt with any of that kind of stuff, so I didn’t have a clue what that really meant.  Of the three male cabins, he of course ended up in mine.  His paperwork included a letter from his parents, talking about how they hoped he would have a good experience at camp, that he had trouble reacting appropriately to certain social situations, and to give them a call if he caused any problems, but with no phone numbers included.  When my campers arrived, the other six cabin members were all much younger than Brandon, who was sixteen, and had the build of a football player.  He wore all faded black clothing, pants, jacket and hat, and had a fairly thin haircut.  His parents came up to the camp to make sure he got settled in, and since luggage was a little behind schedule, they went back down to Frontier to check on it, since they didn’t think he would be able to identify has own bag.  This was my first hint in to the reality of the situation I was confronted with, and was an interesting event, considering I later discovered Brandon to have a photographic memory.  We had figured out the luggage situation and were eating dinner by the time Brandon’s parents returned to confirm that everything was set.

That evening I discovered a few interesting things about Brandon, among them that he was currently attending my old High School, in Colfax, and we had had some of the same teachers.  He also had the worst swearing problem of any camper I have ever seen.  We had recently discussed this issue with the staff, and had decided that in the worst profanity cases, we should correct campers more than discipline them, to help them identify the problem.  I agreed with the reasoning behind that approach, so that was how I attempted to deal with the problem. We had three or four blatant profanity issues the first night, but besides that, everything went smoothly.

All else went well for the first 24 hours, and by Monday afternoon we were headed to the Archery range for cabin option time.  Brandon had been bragging all day about how he would be able to outshoot me with a bow and arrow, so I was interested in seeing if there was anything behind that, since I have heard that autistic kids sometimes are overwhelmingly good at certain things.  Turns out that there was nothing behind it, and Brandon found himself in a very embarrassing situation in front of the cabin when he could not even hit the target at point blank range.  His frustration during this event is the only other factor I can attribute to his actions later that evening.

We headed straight from there to dinner back at Wild Oak, and lined up waiting to eat.  For the third time in a row, my cabin was selected last to eat, not really by any fault of their own.  As the second to last group was dismissed, my cabin started to follow them, since they were the only ones left.  We called them back to wait until they were specifically dismissed.  Brandon decided that he didn’t like that idea, and started to talk back to Joy, who was the DA running the meal.  Joy stood her ground on the issue, but after giving us a lecture about how he had paid $465 to come to camp, and was not going to be told what to do, Brandon informed us that he was going to go pack his bags and leave.  He stomped off to the cabin, throwing his water bottle over his shoulder at us.  We dismissed the rest of my cabin to eat, and watched Brandon disappear into the cabin.  I turned to Joy and Kodak, who were the remaining staff members who hadn’t gone to eat and asked, “Any advice about how I should deal with this little issue?”

“Pray about it.”

While not a bad idea, I had been looking for a bit more of a pragmatic piece of advice.  We took a moment to pray before I headed up to the cabin to talk with him, and they headed off to eat.  When I walked into the cabin, Brandon was standing by his bunk, trying to stuff all of his belongings into a small opening in his suitcase, without unzipping it the rest of the way.  I guess he was too angry to realize that opening it all the way would be much easier, and as it became more and more difficult to fit things in there, he was becoming angrier and angrier, shaking in rage.  I started out the conversation the only way I knew how:

“How’s it going?  ...It seems like you are having a bit of a rough day.”  He ignored me and continued packing.  “How about you just take a few minutes and try to calm down a bit.”

“Hey, I am leaving, and I swear, if you even try to stop me, I will hurt you.”

“Okay, okay, relax!  I am not going to try to stop you.  What are you going to do when you finish packing?”

“F***  you, leave me alone”

“Okay, well I will just stand here and watch, but I recommend that you try to think more than about five minutes ahead.  This entire endeavor will be a lot easier if you have a plan.”

“Screw you, man.  Go away.”

“Alright, have it your way.”  So we spent the next couple minutes in silence as he managed to cram the rest of his belongings into his suitcase.  I was curious to see what he was going to do next.  He then picked up his sleeping bag and pillow, and with his suitcase rolling/dragging behind him, he stormed past me out the door, and headed off towards the path to the canal.  Rocky was gone on Monday, as usual, so I darted over to the kitchen to grab Kodak for a little support, and to ask FX to watch my cabin.  Kodak and I headed out after Brandon, staying about 30 yards back.  By the time we passed the rifle range, she had gotten a hold of Kevin on her cell phone.

“So we have sort of an unusual situation up here, one of our campers has decided that he wants to go home.  He has packed his bags is heading back down to Frontier…We just crossed the bridge and are going along the canal…No, we are just following him, I am not sure what else to do…okay, thanks.”  Kodak closed her phone and turned to me, “Kevin is on his way.”

Now I figured that if we were lucky, Kevin would be there by the time we got to the road above the pool.  Instead, within 15 seconds of the phone call, we heard a vehicle roaring up Blackberry Pass, and before we reached the first bend in the canal, Kevin had cut across the meadow in his Bronco and was behind us, up on the ditch bank of the canal.  As soon as he was in sight, I turned to Kodak, “Wow, I am impressed” and when I looked back in front of us.  Brandon had begun to sprint away, belongings and all.  I started to run after him to keep him in site, while Kodak climbed into the vehicle.  I was another fifty yards down the canal by the time they caught up with me, but Brandon disappeared around the next turn while I was hopping into the Bronco.  When we rounded the next bend, Brandon was nowhere to be seen.