We went around the cabin and each kid had to say something about himself. Uttie, our counselor, talked about the camp and meals and bedtime and everything. He had to answer a lot of questions because, even though our parents had only just left, already a kid had got hurt in a really awful way. Uttie was uncomfortable because he really didn’t know if the kid would be ok. At the end of the cabin meeting, he put everything into the prayer and offered it up to God. That made it seem like the kid was going to be alright, but I had my doubts because I had seen it happen.

I stood at the edge of the trees, straining to see into the deep shade made by the redwoods and the little trees that grow under the redwoods. There was candy on the ground, under a fern, a full sized Jolly Rancher, like the little ones you get in the doctor’s office, but the size of a regular candy bar. I was hoping for Watermelon, but before I went in there, I noticed the little floating dots, bigger and slower than flies. About three feet off the forest floor, they passed each other coming and going and I followed the returning ones to the hole, right by the Jolly Rancher. I didn’t think to tell anyone about it, but it was a perfect kid trap.

I went back to the cabin to change bunks. My bunk was on the far wall, which had seemed great at first, but walking back, I realized anyone on the path could see me there if the door was open. I was moving my stuff to the top bunk just inside the door when I heard the screaming.

Groups of kids watched him from a safe distance. He sat cross legged, almost on top of the hole. His arms were out, like an adult was about to scoop him up, the full sized candy bar Jolly Rancher in his fist. After the initial screams, he kept up a steady bawling. Dots floated around his head and crawled across his clothes looking for exposed skin. We yelled at him, no one wanted to go in there, but he was in a dream. His eyes were closed, and he wailed with every breath, so he was completely cut off. More kids showed up and a couple counselors joined the rest of us screaming at him to get up, to move, let go of the candy, run. His answer, if he heard us, was his uplifted arms and continued wailing, which changed from the sudden screeching pain to sustained demand, like a hungry baby, interrupted when a hornet crawled into his mouth and resumed when he spat it out. I hated him and I thought, maybe, he deserved to die. It was Uttie who went in and got him and ran him into the showers, where I guess they showered off the hornets. I ran off because I thought those yellowjackets might go into Chase Mode.

…

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