(by Edward Zeusgany, copyright 2001, all rights reserved)

What I like best about summer camp is swimming. I like all waterfront activities, but swimming is the best. In the morning and early afternoon, we have instruction in boating, canoeing and swimming. In the evening there is a free boating period, when we can take out a row boat or canoe just for fun. But the best thing of all, is the free swim just before supper.

During free swim, you have a buddy, a person you are supposed to stay close to so you can let a lifeguard know, if anything happens to him. There are about ten lifeguards, camp counselors, who stand around the swimming area and who hold long bamboo poles that they could hand to a boy, if he was in trouble. Every ten minutes or so, the head lifeguard yells, “Buddy Up!” and you are supposed to swim to your buddy, join hands, and hold the joined hands in the air, while they count to be sure that everyone is still there. So you really do need to stay close to your buddy. If you can’t find your buddy because you have forgotten about him, they make you leave the water, and nobody wants that, specially me.

Of course, you choose as your buddy someone you like, someone you want to swim with and play in the water with. You want your best friend at camp to be your buddy. Two kids will often be buddies every day for free swim, sometimes they well be buddies all summer long.

The first thing I do when I get to camp is to start looking for someone to be my buddy. First, I check out the kids in my cabin. I look for a boy who is about my age and has some athletic ability. He doesn’t need to be a star, just not clumsy. I want a boy who is friendly and kind. I don’t like the mean, tough guys at all. Some people must like them though, or they would never have buddies. I prefer someone, who is attractive. In short, the person I want as my buddy is a lot like me.

This year, the first day of camp, one of the boys in my cabin fits my description and he seems to like me, too. Freddie is my age, twelve, but a little bigger than me. Anyway, as we unpacked our things, we talked about where we are from and stuff like that. This is Freddie’s first year at this camp and my second, so I told him how the place operates. He appreciates that so I asked him if he would like to be my buddy for free swim. He smiled and said, “Sure.”

It turns out that Freddie pretty much likes the same things that I do, so we spend most of the day together. When we do things in pairs or small groups, we usually manage to get to be partners or in the same group anyway. It’s not that we have made any agreement, we just naturally prefer to be together. After several days, we each assume that the other wants to be buddies, so it isn’t even necessary to ask. If one of us is held up for some reason, the other will wait.

Today, I am a little delayed getting to the waterfront for free swim, because I have a wicked knot in the draw string of my bathing suit and it’s too loose on me. I give up on it and hurry down. Freddie has not gotten himself another buddy, but has waited for me, just as I would have waited for him. When I explain why I was late, he says he’ll get the knot out for me later. We haven’t missed anything, but we’re at the end of the line to go in.

We swim in a river that has a mud bottom, so even though the water is pretty clean, you can’t see below the surface unless you go under water. If you open your eyes under water, you can see about three of four feet ahead. We like to go under water and grab the other person when they’re not expecting it. That is one of our games. Others are tag and splashing. The life guards don’t like splashing and will tell us to stop, if we keep it up for very long.

Today, we have been having a great time in the water. Freddie is full of fun and so am I. I love playing in the water with a great buddy, and I think Freddie feels that way, too.

During the first buddy up, we are in water only up to our necks, so we can stand up instead of having to tread water. That is hard to do with only one hand free. When the count is over and we can get back to swimming, Freddie gives me this serious look and says, “Come here a minute.” I figure he is up to something. He will put on expressions, like shock or dismay, as part of his fooling around. Anyway, I play along and go over to him. He puts both of his hands on the small of my back and pulls me close to him, almost touching. Then he slides one hand down and into my loose bathing suit. He feels my rump all over. All the while, he is looking into my eyes with that serious expression. Then he takes his hand out and says, “Turn around.” I turn my back to him and he puts both hands under my arms and then on my chest. This time both hands move down and into my bathing suit. He touches me everywhere down there. “Wow,” I think to myself, “and this is only the second week of camp.” I reach back and give him a little squeeze between the legs.

After free swim is over and by the time I get back to the cabin, I am dry, except for my hair and my bathing suit. When I take off the suit, my legs and feet really feel the cold damp of the wet suit. They dry again quickly, while the area that had been covered stays damp. I feel so good at that moment, clean and relaxed by the swim, I would like to stay naked, but no one else does, so I can’t.

Freddie says, “Hand me your suit and I’ll get that knot out.” I bring it over to him and stand there in the nude, while he starts to work on it. He is wearing a towel around his waist. He looks at me and grins. “Go get dressed,” he tells me.

I know that he’s right, We can’t let anyone else know what’s going on with us. If they even suspected, they would put us in different cabins, and if they knew, they’d probably tell our parents and send us home. We have to be careful.

Even now that I have my clothes on, I can still feel the dampness where my bathing suit was. I can imagine Freddie’s hands on me there. I feel so terrific, I wish I could feel like this always. Freddie is almost dressed too. When he finishes, he gives me my bathing suit back. He has conquered the knot. I go out and hang both of our suits on the line in back of the cabin. Then we go to the mess hall. We are both excited, because we are going to have spaghetti, one of our favorites.

*****

It is by chance alone that the two boys did not get caught fooling around with each other. Although they exercised a degree of care, the low probability of their being discovered on any one occasion was offset by the sheer number of their encounters. They would go out on the river in a canoe, land at the back side of one of the islands, a strictly forbidden maneuver, and go ashore looking for a secluded spot. They would leave the camp grounds without permission, to prowl through the surrounding woods. If one of the pair woke in the middle of the night, he would wake the other and they would sneak out. Occasionally, if it were raining for example, they would play right there while their cabin mates and counselor slept.

They promised each other that when the summer ended they would find a way to get together. But Freddie lived in the southern end of Salem and his pal lived in the northern part of Beverly. They were about ten miles apart. Public transportation was available for eight of these miles, but involved two changes and long waits. They were not committed enough to surmount the obstacles. It was not long before each of the kids made a new friend in his own hometown.

Freddie did not go back to camp the next season. He wanted to spend the time with his new chum. This was just as well, since his former buddy and his new pal were there together. Those two did get caught and sent home, but Freddie’s ex-buddy was lucky in that his parents didn’t blame him. The other boy was a year older.

I became a florist and had my business in Beverly. I lived with my parents until they passed on, father preceding mother by some fifteen years. She lived to be eighty-eight.

Freddie was an artist. He had several adult relationships, the last being the most satisfying. He moved to Puerto Rico where his companion had a house. His art blossomed there and he was happy.

I (Freddie) was thirteen when I went to boy scout camp in the summer of 1949. Near the end of the season, some of the kids from Salem (I lived in Marblehead) started talking about “T-bone” and how he would be coming to camp the next week. It was very unusual for anyone’s arrival to be announced beforehand. My curiosity was aroused.

It tuned out that the boy’s name was Thibeault and that he went by his last name. At that time, I was not so familiar with French names and had constructed out of the sounds I had heard, something that had meaning for me. When I saw him, I understood what all the excitement had been about. He was beautiful; long, straight, jet black hair, dark brown eyes, a deep golden brown tan, a cute face, a lithe, trim body. He was friendly to everyone, fun-loving and energetic. He had no interest in the leadership struggles that took place among the kids. He wanted to play and have a good time. It was no wonder that they loved him, and that I succumbed to his charms as well.

I went after Thibeault with all the determination I could muster. It was enough. But he was in camp for only the last two weeks and not in my cabin. It took a six days for us to become buddies. It was Wednesday of the second week, when he got a knot in the draw string of his bathing suit.