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Gavin Johnson

“It’s about time you got here,” Dad said as I pulled up to the same gate we’d both locked at the end of last season. He was as tall as me, and thin, but muscular. With hair that used to be as dark as my own but now was mostly grey.

“Hey, you’re supposed to be taking the summer off,” I said through the open window as I drove past the now open gate.

“You know I have to at least be here to help open it all up,” he said with a wink. Shaking my head, I crawled along until he was in his own truck and following just behind the trailer I pulled that was full of supplies.

“Just like we left it,” I said as I pulled up to the mess hall/activity center. Dad kept driving to the first cabin and before I could walk back to the trailer, two more vehicles pulled in.

“Gavin, ready for the season?” Jimmy asked as he leaned out the window of his car and parked in front of me. He was in his sixties with long grey hair pulled back in a ponytail, and a bandana tied around his forehead. Which was probably the same way he’d been wearing it since the seventies.

“Hey, Jimmy, I got everything on your list. The perishables will arrive tomorrow.” Jimmy had been the cook for as long as I could remember, and I dreaded the day he retired.

He was in a class all his own serving next-level food to campers who probably expected scrambled eggs for breakfast and bologna sandwiches for lunch.

He made sure every meal was delicious and fresh and that everyone had something to eat, no matter how picky an eater they were. And the kids were picky.

“That’s great, Gavin. I’m going to get what I’ve got with me put away, so I’m ready for everything else tomorrow. Lunch will be something simple, but it’ll be edible.” He reached past me into the trailer and picked up a flat of large cans of tomato sauce and carried it off toward the kitchen.

Dad strolled over to me just as I was pulling out another box for the kitchen, which I handed to him. “Hey, what do you say about taking a walk around the property?” he asked and adjusted the box before I grabbed two of my own.

“Sure, let’s drop this off with Jimmy, and we’ll go see what we need to do before the campers get here.” The kitchen was already abuzz with activity as Jimmy put a couple of volunteers to work on cleaning even though it was still spotless from when he’d left it last year.

“I want to check on the water equipment,” I said, so Dad and I walked along the familiar path that led past the lake to the large shed that held the canoes, inflatables, and everything else we used for activities on the lake.

“Son, are you sure it’s a good idea to have camp this early? There’s still snow on the ground on some of the trails and the bears will just be coming out of hibernation.”

“It’ll be fine. I added this one and another at the end of summer. The snakes won’t be out this early, and I want the people who attend to not worry about anything they don’t need to.”

“What’s the first one?” Dad asked.

“Both are for people who have never camped before, but this one is all LGBTQ adults. I wanted to give them all a place they know they’re safe to learn all about the outdoors.

” Not that I had to explain it to him. When I’d come out to him as a teenager, his only reply was to ask why I waited so long.

Mom was the same. I was lucky and neither of them judged me, but I knew it wasn’t that way for everyone.

“I like that idea,” Dad said as we stood at the door of the shed.

“I knew you would. Now, let’s see what we need to fix.” I opened the door and surprisingly, the canoes were in good shape, but I was happy I’d bought more rubber rafts when I saw that something had been chewing on the ones we had. Probably a squirrel or possibly a rat.

“Good thing you brought more,” Dad said with a chuckle.

“Well, I had someone who taught me to plan ahead.”

“That was probably your mother,” he said, making us both laugh.

“You’re probably right about that.” Mom still did the books for Camp Acorn, which I was more than happy for the help. She knew what she was doing, and I still had a lot to learn. There was so much more to running the camp than just going on hikes and building a campfire.

“So, how many do you expect for the first camp?” Dad asked.

“I wanted to keep it small, so there are only twelve. That way, we can use two of the cabins and everyone can have a little more room.” I made a pile of shit to toss out while Dad stood and watched.

He’d done this so many times and even if he was here to help, he was officially retired, so I couldn’t blame him.

“You’ve got all your activities planned and enough staff to help?”

“Yes, and since the whole theme is the new camper’s experience, I made sure I hired a few extra staff so it’s safe, and no one feels left out. I want it to be a wonderful experience for everyone.”

“It won’t just be good, it’s going to be great,” he said before patting my back, and deep inside I hoped he was right, and no one quit the first day.