Every returning counselor at Camp Ashwood knew the rule before the first day of summer: no camper is to use the showers in the Founder's Building alone.
You walked them in pairs at minimum. You waited outside. You counted them going in and counted them coming out, and if the count was wrong you went in immediately and you didn't ask why it might be wrong. You just went in.
The rule was posted on the inside of every counselor's cabin door. It was the first thing covered in orientation, before swim safety, before the CPR refresher. Before anything.
The head counselor, Margie, ran orientation with the kind of calm that comes from having said the same things many times. She covered the rule without drama. Here is the rule. Here is how you enforce it. Any questions?
Somebody always asked why.
Margie's answer was always the same: "Camp policy. Established by the founders. Non-negotiable."
That was it. No one pushed back. You got the sense pushing back wasn't a thing that happened at Ashwood.
I was in my third summer as a counselor when Tyler broke the rule.
Tyler was eleven. He was the kind of kid who tested everything. The first day of camp he'd asked me what would happen if he went in the lake without a buddy. I told him we'd send him home. He went in with a buddy. He understood cause and effect.
But on a Tuesday night in late July, he snuck out of his cabin after lights-out and went to the Founder's Building alone.
We found out because he came back. That was the first thing — he came back. He walked out of the building and across the grounds and back into his cabin at 1 AM, and the only reason we knew at all was that his cabin-mate woke up when the door opened.
I talked to Tyler the next morning. He was quiet in a way that was different from his normal quiet.
"You went to the Founder's Building," I said.
He didn't deny it.
"Did something happen?"
He thought about it. Really thought, like he was choosing words carefully.
"There was someone else in there," he said.
"Another camper?"
"No." He looked at his hands. "A man. Old. He was in the last shower. I couldn't see him, but I could hear him."
"What did he say?"
Tyler looked up at me.
"He asked me how old I was. I told him. He said that was a good age. He said I should come back when I was older." He paused. "He knew my name. I didn't tell him."
I reported it to Margie. She listened with the same calm she brought to everything.
"Is Tyler all right?" she asked.
"He seems okay. Shaken up, but okay."
Margie nodded. "They usually are," she said. "If they come back, they're usually fine."
I asked what she meant by usually.
She looked at me for a long moment.
"Orientation is at 8 AM next summer," she said. "If you're coming back."
I didn't go back.
I think about Tyler sometimes. He'd be in his twenties now. I think about whether he went back like the man in the shower asked.
I think about the word usually.