I spent one week every summer at Camp Tapico
For every year I was a Boy Scout

The camp felt like an entire separate country
Or as if the rest of the world had disappeared
And we were the only ones left alive

We traveled in packs
We rode our bikes everywhere

About ten or fifteen feet before we reached any destination
I would yell, "Dismount!" and we would
Swing our bodies over the frame in unison onto the left pedal
And coast to a halt

I felt like a grown up
Or how I imagined one must feel
And I could mostly come and go as I pleased

One summer, sirens blared out over the camp P.A
In a shrill and ugly tone with an infinite refrain
That carried for miles and miles

I had never heard that sound before

Our counselors were panicked and told us
To return to our campsites immediately
My friend Nate and I mounted our bikes and sprinted home
As branches fell all around us

It felt like we were the leads in a video game
And we were too caught up in it to understand we were in any real danger

When we got back, everyone was huddled under the mess tent
Except for Nate's brother and his friend
Who were stuck in a rowboat in the middle of Grass Lake
During the full brunt of the storm

The adults had to hold Nate back from going out after him
As the pair raced across the water like a glacier or a hawk

We watched from the shore and didn't feel the pouring rain
Until long after they safely pulled in