ROCKET

THIS IS SHORT AND KIND OF DEPRESSING. IN GRADE SIX I WENT TO THIS 'SPECIAL' SCHOOL WITH A BUNCH OF SUPPOSEDLY SMART KIDS, BUT THE SCHOOL WAS SO FAR AWAY WE HAD TO TAKE THE HIGHSCHOOL SCHOOL BUS, WHICH WAS A HORRIFYING EXPERIENCE IN ITSELF. ANYWAY OF COURSE WE ALL SAT UP FRONT AND PRAYED TO GOD THAT THE NINTH GRADERS WOULDN'T BEAT THE CRAP OUT OF US.ANYWAY THERE WAS THIS ONE KID WHO LOOKED ABOUT TWENTY YEARS OLD, AND HE WAS CLEARLY VERY MENTALLY HANDICAPPED, AND HIS NICKNAME WAS 'ROCKET'. HE WORE THIS BLACK LEATHER VEST EVERY SINGLE DAY, AND EVERY ONE OF HIS TEETH LOOKED LIKE IT WAS A CANINE. HE COULDN'T REALLY TALK, HE JUST MADE NOISES AND ROCKED AROUND AND GRINNED AT EVERYONE WITH HIS HORRIBLE FANGY MOUTH.

ANYWAY I DON'T EVEN UNDERSTAND WHY HE WAS PUT ON A BUS FOR HIGHSCHOOL WHEN HE SHOULD HAVE BEEN IN A HOME OR SOMETHING, BUT ANYWAY OF COURSE THE REST OF THE HIGHSCHOOL KIDS DIDN'T CARE. THEIR FAVORITE THING TO DO WAS TO CALL ROCKET TO THE BACK OF THE BUS, AND ASK HIM TO 'HANG OUT' WITH THEM. WHENEVER ROCKET HEARD HIS NAME HE WOULD GRIN AND SMILE AND THEN WHEN ALL THE KIDS IN THE BACK WOULD BECKON HIM, HE WOULD STAND UP AND START TEETERING HIS WAY DOWN THE AISLE.

OUR BUS DRIVER'S NAME WAS EDDIE, AND HE WAS A CHAIN-SMOKING NEUROTIC THAT PERPETUALLY SHOOK AND QUIVERED AND GENERALLY DISPLAYED ALL THE ELEMENTS I HAVE SINCE COME TO IDENTIFY WITH THOSE WHO ENGAGE IN HABITUAL DRUG USAGE. EDDIE WAS UNDER STRICT ORDERS FROM ROCKET'S PARENTS TO NOT LET HIM (ROCKET) GO TO THE BACK OF THE BUS, BECAUSE THE KIDS INEVITABLY STOLE HIS BOOKS, OR SPRAYED HIM WITH PAM, OR DID SOMETHING ELSE EQUALLY HORRIBLE.

SO BASICALLY WHENEVER ROCKET STOOD UP, EDDIE WOULD JAM ON THE BRAKES AND GLARE INTO THE REAR-VIEW MIRROR AND YELL OUT, "ROCKET, FOR CHRIST'S SAKE SIT DOWN!!!" AND ROCKET WOULD WHIP AROUND WITH THIS LOOK OF HORROR ON HIS FACE LIKE HE HAD JUST BEEN CAUGHT DROWNING A CAT AND SIT DOWN AND STARE AT HIS FEET.

THIS WOULD LAST ABOUT TWO MINUTES BEFORE THE TAUNTS AND PLEAS FROM THE BACK OF THE BUS OVERWHELMED ROCKET. THEN WHAT HE WOULD DO IS DUCK DOWN, DISAPPEAR FROM SIGHT, AND ACTUALLY CRAWL ON THE BUS FLOOR ALL THE WAY TO THE BACK OF THE GODDAMNED BUS. THIS HAPPENED EVERY GODDAMNED DAY, I WOULD BE HANGING OUT WITH ONE OF THE SEVEN SIXTH-GRADERS WHO TOOK MY BUS AND BE REALLY NERVOUS THAT I WAS GOING TO GET HIT IN THE BACK OF THE HEAD WITH A SOCCER BALL OR SOMETHING WHEN SUDDENLY WE'D SEE ROCKET, COVERED IN OLD CANDY AND YOGURT AND ALL SORTS OF ATROCIOUS SHIT, ARMY-CRAWLING HIS WAY TO THE BACK. WE WOULD JUST LIFT OUR LEGS.

ANYWAY A FEW MINUTES WOULD TRANSPIRE AND SUDDENLY A LARGE CHEER WOULD ERUPT FROM THE BACK AND ROCKET WOULD POP UP BETWEEN TWO ASSHOLES WITH A GREAT BIG SMILE ON HIS FACE AND OLD SANDWICHES IN HIS HAIR AND HIS BLACK LEATHER VEST WOULD BE ALMOST GREY FROM THE DUST AND DEBRIS, AND BY THIS POINT HE WOULD HAVE TOTALLY FORGOTTEN ABOUT EDDIE'S REMONSTRANCE AND THEREFORE WOULD START WAVING MADLY AT HIM IN THE REAR-VIEW MIRROR.

EDDIE, GETTING MORE AND MORE CRACKED-OUT BY THE MINUTE, WOULD GO ABSOLUTELY BONKERS AND JAR THE BUS TO A HALT, GET UP, PLOW HIS WAY THROUGH THE AISLE MUTTERING VARIOUS EXPLETIVES UNDER HIS BREATH, GRAB ROCKET BY HIS SODDEN VEST, AND START SCREAMING AT HIM TO GET BACK TO HIS SEAT. THIS HAPPENED AT LEAST TEN TIMES A DAY, AND BECAME A VERY BIG PART OF MY CHILDHOOD ROUTINE.

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I ONLY HAVE TWO OTHER ITEMS OF NOTE REGARDING THE CHARACTERS IN THIS STORY. ROCKET ONCE MISSED THE BUS, AND AS WE PULLED AWAY HIS PARENTS CAME FLYING OUT OF THE HOUSE IN A PERFECT FLURRY OF EXCITEMENT AND CONCERN, ISSUED THEIR RETARDED SON INTO THEIR CAR, AND STARTED DRIVING DIRECTLY BEHIND THE BUS, HONKING NONSTOP.

EDDIE HAD THIS WRATHFUL LOOK ON HIS FACE AND GRIMLY DROVE ON. ROCKET'S FAMILY WAS EVIDENTLY UP FOR THE CHALLENGE AND DOGGEDLY FOLLOWED US ALONG OUR USUAL ROUTE, HONKING ALL THE WHILE. EDDIE START PICKING UP SPEED. SO DID THEY. THINGS WERE GETTING TENSE. SUDDENLY EDDIE THREW UP HIS HANDS, YELLED OUT "OH GOD DAMMIT!!" AND PULLED THE BUS OVER. ROCKET WAS BOOTED OUT OF THE CAR BY HIS MOTHER AND THE TWO OF THEM RAN TO THE BUS, HOLDING HANDS. ROCKET'S MOM SHOVED HIM INSIDE AND REGARDED EDDIE FOR ABOUT A MINUTE. THEN SHE LOOKED AT ALL OF US. PLANTING HER HANDS ON HER HIPS SHE LOOKED AT THE CHILDREN AND TEENAGERS IN FRONT OF HER AND SAID, "EVERYBODY, DON'T LET ROCKET MISS THE BUS."

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THE LAST APPENDAGE TO THIS RECOLLECTION IS THAT WHEN I EVENTUALLY MADE IT TO HIGHSCHOOL A FEW YEARS LATER I ENDED UP ONCE AGAIN TAKING EDDIE'S BUS. I REMEMBER THE DOOR SWINGING OPEN AND BEING COMPLETELY TAKEN ABACK THAT NOT ONLY WAS THIS MAN STILL ALIVE, HE WAS STILL DRIVING THE BUS TO AYLMER. EDDIE OF COURSE DIDN'T REMEMBER ME AT ALL, AND SEEMED TO BE IN PISS-POOR SPIRITS. THIS WAS AROUND THE TIME THAT THE QUEBEC SCHOOL BOARD INSTALLED EMPTY BOXES WITH BLINKING L.E.D. LIGHTS AT THE FRONT OF THE BUS AND TOLD EVERYONE THEY WERE VIDEO CAMERAS; I NOTICED THAT EDDIE'S "CAMERA" WAS COVERED IN SMEARED LIPSTICK. HIS FINGERS AND HANDS WERE YELLOWED WITH NICOTINE STAINS AND HE LOOKED PRETTY ROUGH. AS WE PULLED OUT OF THE SCHOOL PARKING LOT AND OUT INTO THE ROAD HE IMMEDIATELY CRASHED RIGHT INTO A SMALL CAR, CRUSHING THE PASSENGER SIDE OF THAT POOR VEHICLE INTO NOTHINGNESS. I DON'T BELIEVE ANYONE WAS HURT, BUT IT WAS THE LAST TIME I EVER SAW EDDIE DRIVE A BUS.

WENDIGO STORY

SO WE'RE AT CAMP OPEMEKON (CUB SCOUT CAMP) AND WE'RE ALL NICELY SETTLED IN THESE LITTLE WOODSY CABINS. WE'RE OUT HERE FOR TWO WEEKS, WHICH IS PRETTY AWESOME. THERE WERE ABOUT EIGHT KIDS TO A CABIN. KYLE AND I IMMEDIATELY SELECTED THE NICEST ONE AND UNLOADED ALL OUR GEAR. EVENTUALLY A FEW OTHER KIDS WERE SHUFFLED OFF INTO OUR CABIN AND WE SORT OF REGARDED THEM AS OUTSIDERS FOR THE DURATION OF CAMP. ANYWAY, THE SCHOOLBUSES HAD PULLED IN AROUND TEN IN THE MORNING AND THE FIRST THING WE HAD TO SUFFER THROUGH WAS THIS EXCEEDINGLY LONG 'OUTDOOR ASSEMBLY' WHERE AKELA AND BALLOO AND THE REST OF THOSE SMARMY MORONS ALL HAD ABOUT A THOUSAND RULES APIECE TO TELL US. ANYWAY I'M SURE IT PROBABLY ONLY TOOK ABOUT TWENTY MINUTES, BUT TWENTY MINUTES TO A TEN-YEAR-OLD SITTING CROSS-LEGGED IN THE MIDDLE OF THE FOREST IS AN ETERNITY.

EVENTUALLY THOSE IDIOT COUNSELLORS WRAPPED UP THE SHOW AND SHUNTED US ALL INTO THE MESS HALL. THIS IS WHERE I DISCOVERED KYLE HAD NOT BROUGHT HIS OWN SPOON, AND APPARENTLY THERE WEREN'T ANY BACKUP SPOONS IN THE ENTIRE CAMPSITE, AND APPARENTLY WE WERE TO EAT NOTHING BUT SOUP FOR THE NEXT TWO WEEKS. MY FOND MEMORIES OF THIS PARTICULAR SCOUT CAMP ARE RIDDLED WITH INSTANCES OF KYLE "FORGETTING" SOME CRUCIAL ITEM OR OTHER, AND HAVING TO BORROW MINE. THE SPOON WAS THE FIRST. THE FOLLOWING DAY HE REALIZED HE DIDN'T BRING A TOWEL, AND IT JUST SORT OF WENT FROM THERE.

ANYWAY THE SOUP GETS DOLED OUT AND WE ALL STAND UP AND HAVE TO RECITE THE CUB SCOUT PLEDGE, WHICH I NO LONGER REMEMBER OTHER THAN THE OPENING "I PROMISE TO DO MY BEST SOMETHING SOMETHING SOMETHING" AND WE'VE GOT OUR FINGERS UP AGAINST OUR BROWS AND WHAT A LITTLE ARMY WE ALL ARE. AKELA AND BALLOO AND THE REST OF THAT ILK ALL HAVE THEIR HATS CLUTCHED AGAINST THEIR CHESTS LIKE IT'S VETERANS' DAY AND YOU CAN'T HELP BUT WONDER WHAT THEY'RE GOING TO TURN OUT LIKE AS ADULTS. ANYWAY AFTER KYLE AND I FINISH LOOKING LIKE TOTAL IDIOTS AND EATING OUR SOUP WITH ONE SPOON BETWEEN THE TWO OF US, BAGIRA OR WHATEVER SORT OF CUPS HIS HANDS TO HIS MOUTH AND TELLS US THERE'S TO BE A "BIG SURPRISE" AT THE CAMPFIRE AFTER THE SUN GOES DOWN, AND ONCE AGAIN EVERYONE GROANS AND THEN WE ARE SUDDENLY INFORMED THAT WE'LL HAVE THE AFTERNOON TO OURSELVES, WHICH RULES!!

SO KYLE AND I TAKE OFF AND TRY TO FIGURE OUT WHERE THE BOUNDARIES OF THIS SCOUT CAMP LIE. WE FIND SOME TRAILS, SOME GOOD CLIMBING TREES, A SMALL CLIFF THAT LEADS INTO THE LAKE, AND BEST OF ALL, A REALLY REALLY AWESOME HIDING SPOT. WE'RE UP ON THIS ROCKY PROMONTORY AND THERE'S THIS DEEP HAIRLINE CRACK RUNNING THROUGH IT. AT ONE POINT THE CRACK EXPANDS TO A WIDTH OF ABOUT NINE OR TEN INCHES, WHICH IS WIDE ENOUGH FOR US TO SQUEEZE DOWN INTO IT. ONCE YOU'RE INSIDE, THE CRACK OPENS UP INTO A SMALL SORT OF CAVE, EASILY LARGE ENOUGH TO FIT HALF A DOZEN KIDS. IT'S JUST A FUCKING FANTASTIC PLACE TO HANG OUT. KYLE AND I QUICKLY FASHION BOWS AND ARROWS USING OUR SWISS ARMY KNIVES AND SHOELACES, AND SPEND SEVERAL HOURS SHOOTING ARROWS LIKE SIX FEET OUT OF VARIOUS PARTS OF THE CRACK. IT'S PRETTY GREAT.

ANYWAY THE DINNER BELL SOUNDS AND WE NARROWLY SQUEEZE OURSELVES OUT OF THE PROMONTORY AND TAKE OFF TO THE MESS HALL. ONCE AGAIN WE'RE SERVED SOUP. ONCE AGAIN WE STAND UP AND MAKE VARIOUS CUBSCOUT PROMISES TO HELP SOCIETY AND DO LORD KNOWS WHAT ELSE. ONCE AGAIN KYLE HAS TO BORROW MY SPOON. DUSK APPROACHES AND AKIRA TRIES HIS HAND AT CONDUCTING SOME SORT OF INANE SINGALONG THAT FALLS APART ALMOST INSTANTLY. HURT, HE RUSHES US OUTSIDE AND TELLS US TO GO SIT AROUND THE CAMPFIRE.

NOBODY ACTUALLY KNOWS WHERE THE CAMPFIRE IS, AND SINCE THE STUPID THING ISN'T ACTUALLY LIT, IT TAKES LIKE AN HOUR TO GET EVERYBODY THERE. FINALLY WE'RE ALL SITTING AROUND IT, WONDERING WHERE THE COUNSELLORS ARE, WHEN THEY SHOW UP IN THESE ABSOLUTELY RETARDED MASKS COVERED WITH FEATHERS AND ELBOW MACARONI AND STUFF. THEY ACTUALLY HAVE THE GALL TO TELL US THAT WE'RE GOING TO MAKE MASKS LIKE THESE LATER ON. EVERYONE GROANS YET AGAIN. THEN BALLOO TELLS US THE BIG "SURPRISE": A GHOST STORY! WE ARE OF MIXED REACTION. ON ONE HAND, THIS IS PROBABLY GOING TO BE HORRIBLE IF ONE OF THE COUNSELORS TELL IT, ON THE OTHER HAND, GHOST STORIES ARE STILL PRETTY SWEET.

SO THIS WILL GIVE IT AWAY, BUT THE CAMPFIRE IS STILL UNLIT AND PILED UP ABOUT TEN FEET HIGH WITH A BUNCH OF QUARTERED LOGS, AND IT SMELLS LIKE GASOLINE. WE'RE ALL EXPECTING ONE OF THE COUNSELORS TO GRANDLY LIGHT THE THING WITH A TORCH OR SOMETHING SINCE IT'S GETTING REALLY DARK, BUT INSTEAD BALOO BOBS HIS HEAD AROUND LIKE A BUOY IN A ROUGH SEA AND GIVES ONE OF HIS STUPID GRINS AND STARTS TELLING US ABOUT THE WENDIGO, WHICH EVERY CANADIAN KID IS ALREADY FAMILIAR WITH ANYWAY.

SO HE'S BARELY A FEW SENTENCES IN AND TALKING ABOUT HOW WE'RE SITTING ON SACRED GROUND OR SOMETHING WHEN HOLY FUCKING SHIT A FLAMING FUCKING ARROW COMES SHOOTING OUT OF THE WOODS SOMEWHERE AND THE WHOLE FIRE JUST FUCKING EXPLODES INTO FLAMES!! EVERYONE'S UP IN A SECOND AND SOME KIDS HAVE EVIDENTLY ASSUMED THE HORSEMEN OF THE APOCALYPSE ARE NIGH AND THEY JUST BOLT INTO THE FOREST. A COUPLE OF US WHO SAW THE ARROW FLY IN ARE OVER THE INITIAL SHOCK AND NOBODY'S BADLY BURNED SO WE SORT OF SIT BACK DOWN AND TRY TO FIGURE OUT WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON. AND BALOO JUST TOTALLY FUCKING LOSES IT. HE STARTS YELLING INTO THE WOODS "JAMES I TOLD YOU TO WAIT UNTIL I SAID 'THE WENDIGO'!!" AND SOMEWHERE IN THE FOREST WE HEAR "YOU SAID 'WENDIGO!!" AND THE BALOO TURNS AROUND AND FACES THE DIRECTION OF THE UNSEEN VOICE AND YELLS "NO I DIDN'T!! I SAID 'WINDY'!!!" AND AGAIN FROM THE DEPTHS OF THE FOREST WE HEAR "GERALD YOU DEFINITELY SAID WENDIGO!!" AND THEN KYLE, FOR MAYBE THE FIRST TIME IN HIS LITTLE LIFE, ACTUALLY MAKES A GOOD JOKE AND LOOKS AT GERALD AND PIPES UP "DOES THIS MEAN YOU HAVE TO ANSWER THE CALL?" AND BALLOO LOOKS UTTERLY EXASPERATED AND YELLS OUT "WELL WAY TO GO" AND THEN TURNS AND BELLOWS INTO THE FOREST "KIDS, IT'S ALRIGHT! IT WAS JUST AN EFFECT!" AND MOST OF US I ASSUME ARE WONDERING JUST HOW MUCH INSURANCE HAS BEEN TAKEN OUT ON THIS CAMP WHERE THEY CAN SHOOT FLAMING ARROWS AT A BUNCH OF CHILDREN AND NOT WORRY ABOUT LAWSUITS. ANYWAY EVERYONE FINALLY RETURNED TO THE FIRE AND BALLOO ASKS IF WE STILL WANT TO HEAR THE TALE OF THE WENDIGO, AND TO THE BEST OF MY RECOLLECTION SOME SMALL RANDOM KID SAID "NO!" WITH SUCH VEHEMENCE THAT THE REMAINING NIGHTLY ACTIVITIES WERE DISSOLVED AND WE WERE TOLD TO RETURN TO OUR CABINS.