A Rainy Day at Camp Chucumanga A Short Story by MBP (Mbpmw@aol.com) Arm-wrestling at camp Update: 01/11/1997 to mbp Anyone who may be interested in my turning this into a longer story with more armwrestling, please let me know. It was a dreary, dull, rainy day at Camp Chucumanga. As with most sleepaway camps, Chucumanga was not well-equipped for rain. But as usual, the competent camp counselors were hard at work, trying to make the day fun for the children. Some groups of children were holed up in a couple of the sleep barracks. The kids were writing overdue letters to their parents, listening to scary stories and having sing-a-longs. But the main body of campers had converged on the mess hall, which was the only indoor facility of any reasonable size at the camp. In the food hall, the counselors had set up the two Ping-Pong and one pool table that the camp had purchased for just such a weather emergency. The CITs (counselors-in-training) were adding to the children's amusement with arts and crafts and a puppet show. And other children had taken out some board games and were playing Life, chess, checkers and Monopoly. Surveying the scene, head counselor Michael Bateman was pleased with the camp's auxiliary plans. Michael was 18 and had just graduated high school. Although he had lettered in 4 sports, Michael's first love was children. He had an athletic scholarship to a fine college and was expecting to either become a teacher or pediatrician. During the past 4 summers, Michael had worked at Chucumanga, where he had quickly worked his way up from CIT to counselor and finally to head counselor. He was extremely popular with the staff and the campers, and he loved his work. And it showed. Michael was sitting around and talking with some of the older boys. The oldest campers at Chucumanga were 14-years-old and naturally, many of them idolized the handsome, well-muscled 18-year-old. One of the boys challenged Michael to an armwrestling match, to which he quickly accepted. After Michael easily defeated the first boy, many of the other campers wanted to armwrestle him. The head counselor used that impetus to attempt to set up an armwrestling tournament, but the campers insisted on taking on Michael himself. So he set up a challenge table, and before long there was a line of people awaiting their turn. The long line of challengers surprised Michael. Some of the CITs and counselors had also joined the campers in line. And there were quite a few of the older, more feisty girls waiting. Some of them wanted to armwrestle, but most of them just wanted to touch Michael in some small way. Michael was still undefeated. He hadn't been seriously challenged, although a couple of the campers and CITs had tested him just a bit. One of the things that had surprised Michael somewhat was the strength of some of the girls. Even though they were no match for him, the resistance Michael felt caused him to surmise that they could be competitive with some of the other boys. The 18- year-old still wanted to put together an armwrestling tournament; maybe later in the summer. The line was thinning out. Michael looked across the table at his next opponent and was surprised to see Felice there. He smiled at the cute, little girl. Felice was 12 and one of the junior girls. She was quiet but a good athlete. Felice didn't seem like the type of girl who wanted to be in the armwrestling limelight. She usually blended in with the others. Still, Felice was one of Michael's favorite campers. She never caused him trouble and always impressed him in the many camp endeavors. Michael hoped to eventually meet someone like Felice for himself. He put up his muscular arm, and Felice did likewise. Michael was shocked. He hadn't taken it easy on any of the campers, and didn't do so with Felice. But they had been armwrestling for a few seconds, and Felice's arm was still up. Michael just could not believe it. Felice was delighted. She knew she was pretty strong, and had done well in armwrestling with her brothers who were older. But Felice never expected to be any sort of a match for Michael. He was so much bigger and older, and looked so powerful. And nobody else had come close. She had a huge crush on Michael, and always was very excited when he complemented her on her athletic prowess. But this was totally unexpected. Felice felt like laughing out loud. But she was very mature for her age, and didn't want to embarrass the 18-year-old. It was bad enough for Michael that he hadn't won yet. She kept her glee inside. Michael was giving his best. He had already armwrestled at least 50 kids, and even though most of them were no match for him, all of the falls had probably taken a little out of him. It was still completely impossible as Felice moved his arm towards the table. Michael looked at the pre-teen, bewildered. He kept giving all of his strength, hoping for a miracle. But it seemed hopeless. The stunned crowd watched in complete silence as their hero was about to be overcome by a little girl. And then it happened. The tide began to shift and Michael determinedly moved Felice's small, strong hand down. The little girl did not give up easily, but Michael eventually forced the pin. He had won. But barely. Felice warmly congratulated the winner, who was still too shocked to say anything, and got up and left the table. The campers stared at her, still too flabbergasted to speak. But eventually, they got back their voices and one-by- one, each kid commended the 12-year-old on her great effort. Michael was done armwrestling for the day. He finally composed himself and walked over to talk to Felice, and shake her surprisingly strong hand. While Michael was talking with the smiling young girl, it dawned on him that Felice had let him win! And she had done so in a way that made it look as though Michael had really won. His eyes bugged out at the realization and he looked over to Felice. She nodded in silent confirmation. Michael fell in love at that minute. It was too bad that she was so young.