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Marilyn and I had met last year during my short stay here - she working the waterfront, teaching canoeing and me slopping grits and pancakes in the kitchen. I liked her the moment I saw her. Always somewhere near the center of attention, but difficult to spot. She had this elfin stature and as a result, got lost in crowds easily. But she also had this wonderful way about her as though she was always up to something; something she shouldn't be doing and I loved her for it. She was sitting on a table near the side and waved me over to a spot. She smiled, putting her arm around me. "Welcome to Camp Willy-Cock-a," she whispered in my ear - her pet name for this forested paradise near the lake. I smiled and we exchanged hello kisses.
Dan approached. "Topeka, you've missed all the fun part of my talk, but you can read it all in the Camp manual. Here." Dan roughly plopped a huge notebook in my lap. Damn, I had to read all this? "Okay, listen up. Last year, I think you all recall a certain problem that occurred in the second month here at camp." Dan was in his element now, telling us what to do and what not to do. "A female counselor had to go home because of 'family' business. Remember?"