There I was lying in bed in camp, again.
At least as a I supervisor I was only forced to share with three others. They gave us a room with six bunks for the four of us. From the onset we shifted the furniture around in order give ourselves some extra space, with a few extra boards and some sheets we rigged up little rooms. It was a group of grown men making forts in their bedrooms.
It was a Saturday and the company was throwing a little shindig; we had been here over a month and the stress level had been slowly building. There was some steam to blow off.
I snuck out early in order to call home and have a few moments of quiet time in my little fort. My fellow bunk mates were still enjoying the fun and the room was silent. After a nice long silent hot shower, a rarity in camp, I climbed into bed and started to drift off.
Not long after all the lights went out I heard the door open and light from the hallway spilled in; I didn't think much of it, camp life is never totally quiet. I didn't even bother to ask or open my eyes.
The door was silently closed, silent footsteps, and then the feeling of air movement as my sheet door was moved.
There was a thief in my room! I didn't move; let him turn on my light before I beat him senseless.
I lay there on my back, quietly waiting for the light or the sound of drawers opening, but nothing.
Nothing was happening, they were just standing there; were they deciding what to take? What to do?
Then I heard the sound of rustling clothes, the crumple of a robe, and a soft hand touches my arm. A woman's hand sliding up my arm and the gentle settling of weight on the edge of my bed.
