#brian irons

Working an adult job at a place that’s supposed to be viewed from a child’s perspective can be an interesting and a disenchanting experience. Like dressing up as Santa for Christmas, finally allowing the dust to settle of the graveyard of your childhood whimsy by not just agreeing that magic is not real, but actively participating in deconstructing it.

Fortunately, for Leon it was not the case, since he never went to any camps as a kid. The whole camp experience, just like many other concepts created for kids, was something he only saw in movies and had no interest in. Some people said he was forced to grow up too early and he agreed, but he never shared the excessive sadness they poured into that sentiment. He saw it as an advantage, knew what he wanted to do with his life and he was on his way of achieving it. Did good in school, started earning money as soon as he legally could and most importantly, finished the training at the police academy before turning twenty-one, top of the class, at that.

The downside of that achievement was the fact that now he had to wait for his birthday (another thing he never cared for) to actually report to duty and be able to carry a gun. His savings allowed to wait out the time period, but his sense of practicality told him to get a job. Luckily, the timing presented a good opportunity to get a summer-job with no strings attached for when he’d have to leave eventually, to pursue the career he dreamed of and trainer for.

It was not that he was a deeply serious type of person, but the circumstances of his life taught him well that he had to think ahead and do things for the sake of his future, because he could not rely on the system to build him a life and the people who were supposed to show him the ropes resided in the photographs, occasionally showing up on the news. And as time went on, his parent’s murder was mentioned less and less, and he knew better than to dwell on sympathy of people who cared about a little orphaned boy. He sensed he was to be a man and pity was not something a man should be eager to accept.

Due to the bright and honest attitude, he was well liked in the area, and many local businesses offered him a job. Leon though, premeditating a hint of kindness in those favors, did not want to take advantage, and was determined to find a job that was truly needed and not just offered out of the goodness of people’s hearts. He decided to find a summer job closer to the place he was being transferred for his duty, on top of all things. The Raccoon City. Yeah, that was the kind of man that little boy grew up to be; honest, reliable and selfless. Against all odds.

And when he first heard about the locally managed summer camp being seriously understaffed, he politely declined the offer. He had no previous experience at camps, no previous experience of dealing with kids and no interest of doing something that brought so little to society and did not give him a change to get used to the city itself.

Camp Raccoon’s Nest was situated at the outsits of the state, deep in the forest. It was a summer camp semi-important people sent their kids to when they wanted to keep them relatively ‘around’, but had no time to deal with them being home all summer. People who worked important jobs and such. It was a linguistic camp; kids were supposed to study Chinese and spend time in the great outdoors participating in all sorts of activities. With China raising their influence on the global market, he guessed it made sense for successful people to wish to introduce their kids to the language.

“I’m not sure I’m the right fit for it,” Leon shook his head with a polite smile at the elderly woman who told him about the position, overhearing his conversation about available vacancies at the electronics store, “but thank you, very much.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll fit right in. The camp director, Mr. Irons, is overseas so there’s no need to go through all the whole process. They are in dire need of an activity counselor, and the rotation starts in a week. You’d come in as a real lifesaver,” the woman nodded, squeezing his arm she was holding onto lightly.

The words ‘dire need’ and ‘lifesaver’ lingered in his head for the rest of an afternoon. Yes, the job was a strange one and did not satisfy his idea of getting to know the city, but he would be coming in to help. And he had all the health certificates ready with the vaccines present. And the idea of it being a summer camp meant that there would be absolutely no implications of prolonged employment or people counting on him to stay. And maybe it was his last chance to take a glimpse of that part of life. At twenty, almost twenty-one, right before diving headfirst into his career as a police officer. Maybe it was a little boy still inside him that tugged him by the hand and made him consider it. Maybe spending time outdoors during summer was the real rational decision.

Regardless, he dialed the number given to him by an old lady at the store earlier.

Camp Racoon’s Nest

(浣熊巢营地)

A huge wooden signboard worn down by the years stood tall, but not so proud on the side of the dusty road curving right into the greenery that surrounded a secluded area of small cabins. The Chinese part of the sign looked less weathered, which made sense, since the linguistic approach was a new addition, as Leon got to learn. The camp was half abandoned and completely understaffed for years, living out the glory days with the help of grown ups who trusted their memories more than their eyes, and sent their kids there. But then again, these types of parents never visited the camp themselves, so perhaps they just didn’t know. Or maybe it was part of the charm, to expose little spoiled bastards to the harsh realities.

Upon arriving to his cabin, he found out that the position he initially signed up for was not the role prepared for him. Apparently, he now had to fill in the shoes of a head counselor, activity counselor and the cabin counselor, all at the same time. He was generously entrusted with a group of kids aged from thirteen to fourteen and their cabin crew, or whatever, was called ‘Jīn Lóng Yì’ which apparently meant something like the golden wings of a dragon…

The second cabin was kids aged from ten to twelve, their name was simply ‘Green Beetles’ and their cabin counselor was a nineteen-year-old college student.

The names were inherited from the previous counselors, and Leon couldn’t find it in himself to thank his predecessor for such a unique name, considering he already felt out of place and lacking authority; now stuck with saying something he couldn’t pronounce in front of random children. He looked at the picture of the kids who left the previous session; a young woman, her short brown hair tucked behind her ears and hidden by the navy-blue beret, as she smiled, hugging a bunch of preteens in camp clothes, holding two peace signs up. Signed ‘Summer ’98, best memories made together’. Well, thanks. Leon thought to himself, looking at the cheerful woman, who was mocking him from the picture. He whispered the name of his cabin to himself a couple times, testing accents on different words, as he changed into the uniform.

As if designed to make anyone feel as stupid as possible, the uniform consisted of two sets: a day-set with khaki shorts and same color shirt with long white socks, and an evening set, same shirt with long khaki pants. All paired up with some brown boots. Leon put on the evening-pants with a day-shirt and walked outside.

Apparently, the uniform was not designed to make anyone feel stupid.

“Hey! You must be Leon!” he heard cheerful panting, and turned around to see a girl skipping in his direction, her high brown ponytail dangling in air as she ran up to stop next to him, “I’m Claire. Claire Redfield. Counselor Claire,” she said, tucking some of the hair that fell on her face behind her ears.

“I’m Leon. Leon Kennedy,” he extended a hand.

“Couns Leon!” she said cheerfully, as she shook his hand with enthusiasm.

Just like she fit right into the uniform, making it actually look kinda cool, she fit in every aspect of this whole camp-life-thing. Apparently, she used to go to Racoon’s Nest as a kid with her brother, who later on became the beloved head counselor, and she spent two summers being a counselor in training by his side. This was the first summer her brother Chris did not work at the camp, due to his training in the Air Forces, thus the whole situation with the lack of a person to take on the role. All of this and more she rambled about in the first three minutes of meeting Leon. And it dawned on him that maybe he indeed was not cut out to keep up with the energy required to deal with a bunch of kids.

His realization only settled as they met the children. His cabin was full of energetic early-teens who corrected his pronunciation of their name four times, before it caught up with him that every time they did, they would tell a different version, just to mess with him.

Claire’s cabin though, were a bunch of angels, who learnt multiple chats the first day and walked in pairs in a line without any reminders.

In truth, it was Claire who was supposed to be the activity counselor, because she organized all their activities, the arts and crafts projects, the archery lessons, the hikes, the games. Leon was just… There. Occasionally reprimanding the kids for doing something dangerous, complimenting another talent someone wanted to show him and waiting till the kids would fuck off flee to their Chinese lessons with Mrs. Wong, their tutor, who barely ever got out of her cabin and they barely saw her during dinner-time only. She kept her short black hair neatly in place, always had makeup on, was hanging out with the health officer, a guy called Marvin and according to kids was really strict.

Leon hated how the kitchen crew, health officer (who was also acting as the guard of the camp) and every other adult in sight treated cabin councilors almost as if they were one of the kids, despite them, technically, requiring the most authority. Claire’s overenthusiastic bond with the children did not help, so after a few days of mind sulking, Leon gave up.

If there was a camp experience Leon finally got to be a part of, it was being jealous of the rival cabin. He wasn’t jealous of their bond or their successes at most activities, though. He was jealous of how well-behaved Couns Claire’s kids were. His kids? The very first day, a kid from his cabin was chasing a girl from Claire’s cabin with a worm on a stick, resulting in the girl falling over and scraping her knees bloody. Something that wouldn’t happened if they had better uniform, as Leon thought. But he felt guilty and made the guy, Jake, apologize.

Jake did not apologize. He said their cabin’s name was Green Beetles so they should be familiar with all sorts of bugs. A real bully that kid was. Jake Muller.

He did not have a father and his mother worked a lot, so it wasn’t his first summer at the camp, which made him feel like he owned the place, an attitude that was hard to handle for someone like Leon, who didn’t gain the respect of the general population yet.

Claire was gracious about the situation, though, she calmed the girl down and told Leon that it’s not a big deal, and she didn’t blame him for the actions of a kid.

“Sherry is a tough girl,” she said, “but Jake should apologize.”

Leon put all his faith into Sherry not telling Claire that Jake indeed, did not apologize, so the situation could be dropped. And it was.

With kids it seemed like every day was filled with a year-amount of drama, that fizzled out as fast as it started, and no one talked about the same things two days in a row. Except maybe the jokes about Leon and Clair being boyfriend and girlfriend, those jokes were hard to pry from kids. Anything actually was hard to pry from the kids. The more you push and pay attention to something they do, the more they do it. Leon learnt it by day five and soon fit right in the role of the nonchalant cool counselor.

“Don’t eat the grass!” he would yell at them as they fell down on the ground during the rope-climbing competition. And his ‘grown up’ kids felt superior to the ‘babies’ that Claire encouraged at every step.

And as dinner time approached, he’d yell out something along the lines of “alright, golden dragon wings, time to fuel-up!” and they would find it hilarious.

He stopped working on his Chinese pronunciation and instead made them laugh with different variations of ‘golden winged dragon’, ‘golden dragonfly’, ‘dragonesque gold with wings’, ‘dragon wings with mustard’ and other silly versions, that indicated that he was too cool to care, which kids found absurdly admirable. They came up with their own version, ‘dragon’s golden piss’, which Leon pretended not to be aware of, but secretly found funny. Until one day, a girl from his cabin said that Mrs. Wong heard them butcher the name and called them out on it. Leon had to tell the kids to tone it down in front of the ‘outsiders’, and finally. Finally, he felt some sort of unity with the little beasts.

They actually started to respect him, and he couldn’t lie, spending time outside when he didn’t have to reprimand anyone was not the worst way to spend four weeks of the summer. He even started putting on the day-shorts. Too cool to look stupid.

The rivalry between the cabins started to feel a little serious. Claire’s kids were smaller and lacked some physicality and cunning, but they were focused on team work and listened to instructions, so the golden dragons with wings, or whatever, were falling behind. Claire’s kids were also better at art, but to be fair, it was partially because she helped them a great deal. Unfair advantage. But Leon’s kids were better at Mandarin, or at least that’s what they told him. And he believed them, because God, they had to be better at something.

Other than that, the rivalry usually presented itself in something petty. One time Green Beetles started calling themselves The Beetles, and then the other cabin claimed that they have a better claim to be The Beatles, since they had a ‘John Leon’ as their cabin counselor. The joke that spiraled to them giggling about Mrs. Wong being Yoko Ono, which had to be shut down. Most of their jokes somehow had to be shut down by Mrs. Wong or Marvin, or the kitchen crew, and Leon would have to apologize.

He could easily put it down in his papers and add to his responsibilities: Head Counselor, Activity Counselor, Cabin Counselor, Apology Counselor.

As first two weeks passed and the camp life softly embraced all inhabitants in it’s warm and sunny… well, embrace. Things started to turn, and it was Claire’s turn to apologize and manage her cabin with some extra effort.

The smaller ones really put the sick in being homesick and started crying at every little thing. One of the girls, Emma, caught a cold. Nothing serious, just slight fever, but she cried for hours, asking for her dad to come get her. Claire did call the girl’s father, Mr. Kendo, but he said he couldn’t come, and that if the health officer says she’s fine, she’ll be alright.

Counselor Claire did her best to calm everyone down, even if it meant she had to sacrifice her breakfast, lunch, dinner and free time most of the days.

And when the third week was nearing, they got the worst news possible. The camp director, Brian Irons, was coming back from his vacation, and he was set on visiting his premises. That meant absolute discipline, cleanliness and other displays of perfect management had to be in place.

No bullying and inappropriate behavior, no sick children and no crying. No incidents and absolutely no rivalry outside the activities.

Leon and Claire had to team up to install some peace, and it was not working out. The kids, sensing supernatural powers at play, got even more hostile and started a food fight the next day. The blame fell to Jake, as usual. The boy could not for the hell of it deal with any authority, and did all in his power to prove it. The food fight resulted in both cabins being grounded for the day and the planned hike was cancelled, which only made them blame the other crew more.

“We have to come up with something… that will inspire bonding,” Claire said during dinner, “like the candlelight, but for everyone,” she chewed on her lip.

Candlelight was the usual evening activity, where kids would pass a candle to each other and talk about their day. Leon imagined it was a wholesome experience at her cabin, whereas in his it looked more like a free mic show, with early-teens who tried to one up each other with bad jokes. He never interfered, party because he wasn’t familiar with how the ritual should actually go, and party because no one could one up him, their Cabin Counselor, and it won him some points.

“So, like, a camp fire?” Leon looked at Claire, who clasped her hands together, as if she was praying or squishing a bug, holding a thought.

“Yes!” she pointed a finger, “But campfires were banned, so something like—”

“Campfires? Banned? At the camp?” Leon looked at her in some confused amusement, as he ate his beans with rice.

“Yeah, well… kids were sharing the scary stories… and my brother,” she almost let out a guilty chuckle, “well, he had really good scary stories, and it always ended with kids having nightmares and sobbing and…”

Leon groaned, rolling his eyes at yet another thing ruined because of crying kids.

“Listen, but we could do it without the stories. Call it a big candle night, or something,” he suggested.

“This is a way around it and it’s obvious to everybody,” Claire pursed her lips in a tight smile.

“Well, I’m the activity counselor, I’m managing an activity. It’s not a campfire, it’s…” he looked at the fork he was holding in his hand, few beans impaled, “it’s a marshmallow roasting session,” he turned the fork around, imitating the deed.

“As long as it’s your idea,” Claire joked, absolving herself of responsibility.

The crackling snaps and pops from the campfire accompanied by a mellow chorus of crickets struggled to take the main stage as two groups of kids situated themselves on the logs around the fire. Shoving and whispering, occasional bursts of laugher and complains about mosquitos and other bugs filled the otherwise calming display of nature’s mirth.

“What about the story about the lake monster?” one of the boys wondered loud enough to get the attention of the counselors.

“We’re here to roast marshmallows and enjoy the sounds of nature,” Leon’s answer was met with dissatisfied boos and sighs.

“No scary stories about the camp,” Claire joined in, defending her colleague.

“Well, it doesn’t have to be a scary story,” whined another boy. And a sound of mutual agreement rose from both cabins.

“Yeah, and it doesn’t have to be about the camp,” said a girl from the golden winged dragon cabin, known for her bold temper and hatching leadership skills.

“We already missed out on a hike,” a displeased voice followed up.

“Okay, enough,” Claire cut through, somehow managing to sound both strict and nice at the same time, “we enjoy the sounds of—”

“Well it doesn’t have to be a scary story!” insisted the boy.

“I think something bit me,” Emma, the girl who got sick a couple days ago showed Claire her arm.

“Told you, we had to leave her in the cabin,” stated the another girl.

“It’s just a mosquito, Ems, don’t touch it and it will go away,” Claire gently let go of the girl’s hand.

“It’s a zombie mosquito!” Jake found an opportunity to taunt another victim of his.

A rumble of laugher emerged from the side of the campfire.

“Zombies can’t be mosquitos,” a voice from Claire’s group.

“Pretty sure zombies can’t be anything,” Leon said, taking control of the situation, “because zombies aren’t real.”

“Zombies are real!” some kid called out.

“Yeah, and they are biting everyone back at home right now!” snickered another one.

“Zombies aren’t real, I would know, because my parents are scientists and they would tell me,” Sherry, the blonde girl Jake loved to bully called out protectively.

“They wouldn’t tell you, you’re a kid.”

“Yeah, and I bet it’s your parents who created the zombies in the first place,” Jake laughed, looking at her defensive stare.

“Zombies or no zombies,” Leon leveled the tension, “you’re save here. Me and Couns Claire will protect you,” he tried to make light of the bickering so the bonding experience doesn’t turn sour.

“Chris would’ve kicked zombies’ ass!” yelled out a boy, who couldn’t let go of the previous summers spent with Counselor Chris, Claire’s brother.

“Oh, he would, alright. But we aren’t falling far behind,” the natural competitiveness at a mention of her brother made Claire forget to comment on the crude language.  

“Yeah, Couns John Leon would kick their asses! He’s a police officer!” said a kid who was rather enthusiastic about his cabin’s reputation.

Leon chuckled at that, but didn’t comment, not wanting to confront the use of the language, when it was supposed to be a compliment.

“If you think any of you stand a chance against zombies, you know nothing,” Joke scoffed.

“And like you know everything about zombies!” Sherry responded, quite eager.

“‘And like you know everything about zombies!’” Jake mocked her.

“Okay, let’s not talk about zombies or any other monstrosities,” Claire remembered that they were not supposed to give kids any reason to be scared.

“If there’d be zombies back at home, Couns Claire would go there, look for Chris and they would kick all their zombie asses!” a girl from Green Beetles leaned forward to state her claim.

“Oh, and Couns Leon would’ve already been there because he’s a police officer and he would save everyone and kick more asses!” a much-expected retortion.

“Okay, I think if anything were to happen, we would team-up and work together,” Leon tried to bring elements of bonding into this silly discussion.

“And then when you’d be surrounded by the zombies, you’d go to the police station to find Chris and he’d kick all their asses!” Claire’s brother’s fan was too eager to bring up his favorite counselor at every opportunity.

“Chris went overseas to study! He won’t be at the police station!”

“Yeah, there would be Marvin! He’s an officer,” a boy giggled.

“He’s a health officer, that’s like a doctor he won’t be at the police station, he’d be at the hospital!” girl from Leon’s cabin lectured.

“No, he would be at the police station!” the boy replied, “and he would be bitten by a zombie!” he smirked at her disgusted face.

“Leon would save him, then!” she said.

“You can’t save someone who’s been bitten by a zombie!” Jake stated.

“Yeah! So Emma is going to die!”

Emma started whining at that, looking at her mosquito bite and Claire got scared for a moment that she actually might start crying.

“Hey, no! There’s a way to save everyone,” Leon jumped in.

“No there isn’t,” Jake said, “and Marvin would die!”

“My parents would find a cure!” Sherry held Emma’s hand.

“Your parents would create a zombie virus!” Jake mocked her again.

“My father would come get me and I won’t die!” Emma found some resilience to stand up for herself.

“That’s right,” Leon said, “he would do everything to protect you. Just like all of your parents and us, with Couns Claire.”

“Except Sherry’s parents who would make the zombie virus!” Jake laughed.

“Shut up, Jake!” Sherry refused to be bullied, “they would create a cure and they will cure everyone, but you!”

“They will try to create a cure and will turn into zombie-monsters!” Jake joked.

“Hey, no monsters!” Claire chimed in, “no one is turning into monsters!”

“Chris would’ve kicked monsters’ asses!” all too familiar voice.

“Can you shut up about Chris already?”

“You’re just jealous because you weren’t here when Chris was!”

 “Leon would’ve kicked the monster asses and the zombie asses!”

“Okay, enough about kicking asses!” Leon tried once more to control the situation.

“And monsters!” Claire agreed.

For a moment the group listened to the gentle hisses coming from the fire as moisture in the wood turned into steam and filled the air with warmth.

“And after Marvin dies, Couns Leon finds a secret door and goes to find the cure for the whole city,” a voice coming from one of the children ruined the tranquility.

“There’s no secret doors at the police station!”

“Yeah there are and it leads to the secret training rooms and it’s where they keep dead bodies and it’s where they keep police dogs!”

“And the dead bodies all turn into zombies!” “And the dogs too!”

“And Couns Leon kicks all their asses!”

Leon and Claire couldn’t help but smile at the absurdity of their imagination.

“And then Mrs. Wong appears from the secret room and he kills her,” snickered a kid who, judging by the comment, did not take liking to Chinese lessons.

“No,” Claire cuts through, “no one is killing Mrs. Wong. We have to treat her with respect.”

“But she’s a villain!”

“No—,” Claire started.

“In the story, she’s a villain!”

“No, Mrs. Wong can’t be a villain in a story,” Leon corrected the flow of imagination.

“Okay, she helps to get the cure,” another voice joined in the retelling.

“But then she changes sides, because she’s a spy!”

“No, Mrs. Wong can’t be a spy,” Leon corrects again, he could already see them bringing up this ‘story’ to her in class later and having to apologize for villainizing her in the eyes of the kids for making them study, something he never did.

“Okay then, they kiss, if he likes her so much!” children erupt into laugher, leaving Leon blushing from his neck, from frustration. If this version of a story somehow reaches her, it would be worse than the murder scenario. He knew not to give it any attention if he didn’t want to encourage the jokes.

“And then I help to get the cure from my parents!” Sherry smiled.

“You’re not even in the story!” Jake scoffed.

“You’re not even in the story! I am,” she scoffed back, “because my parents invent the cure.”

“Your parents wouldn’t even care to give it to you, you’re just a kid and they don’t even care about you.”

“Guys!” Claire clapped her hands. “Beetles and Dragons? Please, I need you to get along, okay? We need you to get along.”

She sighed and thought her next words through.

“We can all be in the story, but if Mr. Irons comes to visit and sees that we’re fighting, none of us will be in any story ever again.”

The campfire turned to silence, the crinkling and pops of the air-pockets between the twigs disturbed by the quiet hoots of owls in the distance.

“Then Couns Claire helps Sherry to get the cure from her parents,” a voice suggested, trying to fix the mood and allow more of the story to continue.

“And Mr. Irons barges in and steals it.”

“Along with Sherry,” another voice adds and everyone laughs.

“But Couns Claire would save Sherry,” another voice offered, gently.

“And then Couns Leon would find them through the secret passage and help them get out,” a girl from Leon’s cabin finished.

The ending of a story – veiled promise to their counselors that they would behave in front of the camp director.

“And then the government would bomb the entire city,” Jake’s voice loud and crude.

“Jake!” Sherry yelled out.

The kids started shifting, some of them making a lot of noises in protest and some of them joining in with the laugher, deep under the influence of Jake’s attitude. Emma’s displeased whines started turning more and more into what sounded like actual tears and Claire took her by the hand.

“Alright, it was a fun story, save for the end,” she tried to remain cheerful and in control, “now we all need to hit the pillows!”

“She meant going to sleep,” Leon pointed a finger at his kids. He had to take away their pillows for two days before, after a very ugly incident with pillow fights and a night at Marvin’s cabin.

As the kids went to bed, Leon couldn’t fight the feeling like they almost succeeded. Almost, but it still wasn’t what he envisioned. Maybe he should’ve taken the lead and stopped the chatter before it got out of hand, maybe the whole campfire idea wasn’t that great to begin with. He walked out of his cabin, hoping he would find Claire still awake and willing to discuss the evening. Maybe just talk. Dealing with kids got way more stressful when he started taking some of the shortcomings personally, and he found himself relying on their chats over dinner with Claire to elevate the tension.

He knocked on the rival door and, in a minute, the captain Green Beetle emerged.

They sat down in her room, both trying to act within the reality that kids being kids was not getting to them, since they weren’t all that grown themselves.

“I think you’re doing a great job, the kids like you,” Claire shrugged, putting down a cup of tea in front of him.

“They like me because I don’t push back.”

“No, they just act out because they feel comfortable,” she said knowingly, “with my brother, they were even worse, they still call him just ‘Chris’ and he never insisted on anything else. It’s not the lack of respect or anything… it shows that they trust you,” Claire nodded.

“Well, you’re the expert,” he tried to compliment the way she seemed to connect with kids with ease, but didn’t know how to go about it, “I mean, you have a gift.”

“My kids are younger,” she explained.

“By what? Two years max?”

“At that age it’s a world of a difference.”

Leon took a sip of his tea and gave the thought some time. Maybe she was right. He couldn’t quite remember himself at ten nor at twelve; nor at thirteen, fourteen and if he thought about it too much, he couldn’t tell the difference between himself at the moment and any other age prior the accident that left him with no family. Maybe he was different before that, but those memories were locked and faded.

“My kids cry almost every night because they miss their parents,” Claire said, “have to talk them through it, tuck them back into bed…”

“You do something important for them,” Leon found his voice.

“You do something important too, they just… Stop crying as they grow older and start making others cry instead,” she smiled, “but it’s all the same. It’s just kids. It’s just… Humans.” She shrugged.

Leon nodded, finishing his tea.

The air outside was promising shivers and he hurried to walk to his cabin, when he saw the very reason for his failed authority sitting on the wet grass, busy with something in his lap.

He walked up to Jake, who was playing some game, not looking up even as he heard Leon’s footsteps. He thought about the best way to approach the situation. Any technology was banned from the camp, the sleep curfew was mandatory, walking outside without a counselor was forbidden and Jake managed to do just about everything to get Leon into trouble once again.

“What do you have there?” Leon looked at the handheld game console the boy pressed buttons on.

“It’s a GameBoy Color, red, very rare and expensive. My mom got it from Japan,” Jake said, not looking up.

“That’s cool… You know those things are banned out here though, right?”

“I don’t give a rat’s ass. My mom lets me play at night.”

“Okay, but what if others see you?” his counselor tried to find some middle ground, even thought it was just a fickle attempt to give himself some credit before taking the game away and sending little beast to bed.

“I don’t care about others.”

Leon sighed, holding the thought for a moment. He sat down next to the boy.

“Too bad, everyone cares about you.”

Jake scoffed.

“They care about you so much they try to impress you by imitating what you do.”

“I don’t care what they do, talk to them about it.”

Leon let some frustration simmer down to mind annoyance. He looked at the boy, at his brow full of concentration, his thinned in lips, as he played the game. He knew the boy didn’t have a father and his mother was too busy with her work, so he probably felt very grown up, but Leon grew up with no parents at all, and did not act like a jerk just because he wasn’t forced to be nicer.

And as the thoughts ran through him, a flicker of defeat stung sharp in his chest, not because he couldn’t handle the boy’s character. But because he realized the boy got on his nerves because all this time, he was comparing himself to him. I managed to do it, so why can’t you? And how was it fair to the boy? If Leon couldn’t handle a teen acting out, how could he in all honesty sympathize and help people in situations he deemed ‘milder’ than what he had to go through, as a police officer? People in distress weren’t just scared and meek and in need… People in distress could be angry, could lash out and look for a party to blame. It was his duty to care even when it was hard. And in that, he failed.

“What game are you playing?” Leon asked after few minutes of silence.

“You wouldn’t know.”

“I was hoping you would tell me.”

Jake sighed, annoyed. “What do you need? I’m playing a game.”

“Just interested,” Leon looked at the screen, “Is this where you get all your cool ideas from?”

“What ideas?” Jake muttered, defensive.

“The zombies and the explosions…”

“No. I get them from my head.”

“You have an interesting head then.”

Jake scoffed, not buying the compliment. “Sure…”

“No, I mean it. I liked your bits of the story.”

“Everyone likes my stories, but they have to act like they don’t, otherwise little Sherry would cryyy,” he mocked.

Leon chuckled at the comment. “You like Sherry?”

“Sherry is a puss, she acts like her parents give a shit about her, but they don’t. They send her here because the boarding school, or whatever other hole they try to dig her in, is closed for the summer,” he said, anger seeping into words.

“I see…”

“It will be hilarious once she sees they don’t care,” he cackled, pressing the buttons on his console.

“Is that’s why you try to warn her?” Leon suggested, looking at the little jumping figure on the tiny screen.

The pixels dissembled, imitating an explosion as the figure fell down. Game over.

Jake looked at Leon with frustration, blaming his chatting for the failure. “I’m not trying to warn her.”

“I think it’s really great of you,” Leon continued, watching the boy’s ears go red. “You’re looking out for her, it’s admirable. Just between us.”

Jake fell into silence as he restarted the level. “She’s not gonna like it. When she sees that they don’t care.”

“You’re right, nobody likes that… Nobody knows how to deal with these things really,” Leon exhaled, “but you’re doing great. You seem to know a lot about life and you’re doing great.”

“I am.”

“That’s for sure. And you don’t need anyone to tell you anything…” Leon smiled. “Maybe you could be there for her when she finds out, you know. We can’t rush people into it, life. But… we can be there when it happens.”

Jake sat there in silence; he turned the console off once he failed the level again, not wanting to embarrass himself by losing in front of Leon the third time.

“Yeah, I guess. I’m there for my mom,” Jake explained, gaining some dignity from the conversation.

“Yeah, I thought so. That’s why I… you know, you’re very reliable. The whole cabin, they look up to you. This is my first time as a counselor and I rely on you to navigate them as well.”

Jake thought for a moment and nodded. They sat for a time in silence.

“I’m supposed to be drafting the activities for the next week right now, but I’m lazy,” Leon said, “and I can’t come up with anything to save my life.”

“We could go to the lake,” Jake said, “no, the lake is dangerous. We could go to the hike. It was cancelled, but we can reuse the plan. And we could go to the lake with just those who know how to swim later.”

“That’s a good idea. You want to help me draft the plans?” Leon stood up.

“I can,” Jake nodded following Leon back to the cabin.

“Hey Leon!” he called back.

Leon stilled and looked at him.

Jake extended a hand, handing him the GameBoy. “Can you take it, and keep in your things for the week so others don’t see it?”