Written by Michael Landolfi –

“Have ya ever been fishin’ on a bright sunny day? Sat on the bank and watched the little fishies play? With your hands in your pockets and your pockets in your pants, watched the little fishies do the hootchie cootchie dance?”

“No, I ain’t.”

“Well, ya oughta’.”

“Why’s that?”

“I dunno. It’s just somethin’ my Nanny says.”

“Huh! … Well… does she know about snipes?”

“Yeah, a course!”

But I didn’t. I was almost twelve, but I’d never heard of snipes.

Me and Hugh were going to camp together that summer. I hadn’t never been to a camp so, I was real excited. Hugh was my best friend. He’d gone to camp the last two summers and had a ball, but said it woulda’ been better if I’d been there. He said there was a lotta snipes at that camp and maybe we could go huntin’ ‘em.

I asked Nanny about snipes. She laughed.

“There’s no such thing as a snipe. It’s a trick the older kids play on the young’uns. They’re ‘spossed ta only come out after dark and are real tricky. They can hear better than dogs so, you gotta be real quiet and sneak up on ‘em, freeze ‘em with your flashlight and chuck ‘em in a bag. Everybody has to go huntin’ by their selves so there ain’t no extra noise. Then, the older boys sneak off and leave the little kids all alone.”

“So Hugh is trying to trick me?”

“Maybe, but maybe he don’t even know. Maybe some of the older boys are tricking him. My brothers went snipe huntin’ and were left alone in the deep, dark forest. The older boys started howlin’ like wolves and making monster noises. Pete and Tony got so scared they started to cry. Then, after a while the older boys came out of the pitch blackness and pretended to be zombies. My brothers nearly died of fright. All the kids laughed at ‘em and called ‘em names like yella bellies and chicken feathers Tony and pee diaper Pete.”

“Huh, that ain’t gonna happen to me, Nanny!”

In late spring, me and daddy was fishin’ near Brevard. We drove by a sign, Camp Greenbrier.

“Hey, there’s the camp you and Hugh are going to. Wanna check it out?”

We parked and nosed around. It was closed until June, but we peeked in the windows and walked around the trails to the horse stables and the lake. We checked out the teepees and the canoes. It looked really neat. I asked dad if he thought there were any snipes around. He laughed and told me pretty much what Nanny had said.

Mean Bobby Green and his stupid buddy, Fat Eddie, found out that we were all going to the same camp. They were older and bigger and they started teasing me, especially at recess. I told the teacher and my parents, but it only backfired. The bullies just became more sneaky. Hugh didn’t get much teasing because he was their friend already and they rode the same bus. But me and Hugh decided we would probably play some kinda’ trick on ‘em at camp, maybe steal their clothes when they were swimming, or put itching powder in their shorts.

A week before camp, Hugh got appendicitis and had an operation. He didn’t get to go to camp. I had to go alone. Well, my big buddies, Bobby Green and Fat Eddie would be there. I hoped that maybe they’d be tired of acting like jerks and be nice to me.

I was wrong.

It was a long week. I had fun, but I missed my folks and Hugh. The bullies tormented me every chance they got. On the last day, the idea of a snipe hunt came up. We snuck out after dark, all ten of us boys. I figured Bobby and Eddie and the two older guys knew all about the trick. And I had a plan.

“The best snipe huntin’ is by the lake,” said the oldest boy.

Everybody fanned out. The little kids went first, they were so excited. The older boys hung back and I figured they were gonna try to scare us. When I got to the lake, I watched the flashlight beams wobbling behind me and then go out. The forest behind me was pitch black and silent except for the crickets and frogs. I turned my flashlight off. After about five minutes, I dropped a big bucket full of water in the lake. Kerplunk! Then yelled, “Help! Help! Help!” I made splashing noises, turned on my waterproof flashlight, threw it in and raced away.

“He’s over there!” I heard someone holler. “I see his flashlight in the water!”

“Oh god! That stupid kid, he better not drown!” Bobby yelled as all the big kids ran onto the dock. They all dove in and started lookin’ for me, fussin’ and yelling my name. I snuck out, grabbed their shoes and tossed ‘em in the lake. They sank. I ran back into the woods. I had a second little flashlight and a pocket knife. I cut some saw briars and laid ‘em in the trail so the barefoot devils would step on ‘em. Then, I put that itchin’ powder in Bobby and Fat Eddie’s sheets. And since the girls were sleeping in the teepees that night, I snuck into their cabin, stole a bunch of underwear and put bras and panties in my buddies dirty laundry bags. Their moms would sure get a surprise when they washed those camp clothes.

Mean Bobby Green and Fat Eddie looked exhausted at breakfast and they couldn’t stop scratching.

“You boys roll in some poison ivy last night?” I asked from a safe distance. “And where’s your shoes?”

They promised to kill me and probably would have right then if the counselors hadn’t been there. I laughed in their faces, but worried about next school year. Luckily, we moved to Florida in August and I never saw Mean Bobby or Fat Eddie again.

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Asheville native, Michael Landolfi survived Catholic school, the 70s and the Marine Corps. He lives an untamed life in Bent Creek, is on the trails daily and writes wild stories for those with short attention spans. His tales will tickle your funny bone, pinch your heart and twist your gut. Imagination run wild. Find out for yourself. His new book, 5-Minute Short Stories: A Bathroom Book, containing 35, 5 minute stories, is available on Amazon.