Clay opened his eyes abruptedly and lay there, panting slightly. The sweaty sheet stuck to his back as he sat up in his cot. That dream again. The second time this summer. He willed himself to calm down as he gazed around the cabin, colored faintly blue by the light of the moon seeping in through the windows. None of the boys stirred. At least he hadn't called out in his sleep and woken any of his 8 year old charges. What kind of a camp counselor was he, still having irrational nightmares at age 20? Clay lay back down. The sheet felt damp and cold on his bare skin. He tried to slow his breathing, but his heart raced, unwilling to give up the memory of the dream. What he longed for right now was the warm, consoling hand of a girl tucked into his own. But it was too late at night to go seeking the comfort of friends. And he did have plenty of friends who were counselors in the other cabins, and certainly a few who would good naturedly keep him company despite the late hour. He checked his watch-2 am. A long time yet until dawn, a long time to lie awake with the lingering echoes of waves and water and a vastness that. Christ, he had to stop thinking about the dream or he'd never get back to sleep.

Clay sat up again and swung his feet out of bed. He reached beneath the cot for his pants and Teva sports sandals. He slid into the plaid pajama bottoms, pulled the drawstring tight around his narrow waist, and slipped his feet into the sandals. With a last glance around the cabin at the sleeping boys and K.C., the slightly snoring 16 year old junior counselor, Clay slipped out of the cabin and closed the door gently behind him.

Standing on the doorstep, he pounded his right fist repeatedly into his left shoulder. No, what he really needed wasn't a friend's hand, but to take hold of himself and tame this fear.

He'd head to the river. It was walking time. Calming time. Maybe even singing time.

"Hi, this is Crystal. I'm not here right now. Leave a message and I'll call you back as soon as I can. Beep." Joanna sighed in frustration but decided to leave a message.

"Crystal, this is Joanna. Calling from camp. Are you OK? I just had this really bad dream and you were in it. It's freaking me out and I wanted to talk to you. I know you've had a hard time lately. Sorry to call so late. Just wanted to make sure you were OK. Bye."

Joanna pushed the red button on her cell phone and ended the call. She leaned against a hickory tree and stared at her cabin, made ghostly by the blue light of tonight's full moon. What should she do now? After that dream, she was too keyed up to sleep. She'd call her sister again in the morning. In the daylight, she and Crystal would probably laugh over her concern and the 2 am phone call. And she'd kid Crystal about where she'd been at that late hour, anyway. But right now, the dream didn't seem funny and she knew that if she were to go back inside the cabin and lie down, she would only play it over and over in her head. There was one thing that never failed to calm her and that was a swim. The swimming hole at the river would be quiet and still at this time of night, and eerily blue in the light of the moon. She shivered. Perfect.

As she passed the boathouse on the path to the river, the moon drifted behind a cloud. The shadows lengthened and the jumble of life jackets strung on the wall suddenly looked like a cluster of gigantic bats, hanging head down and silently watching. She stumbled over a stone in the now dark path and shivered again. Already she felt better. There was something about moonlight and shadows that excited her and lifted her spirits. She was looking forward to the swim.

When she reached the bridge, she headed upstream and quickly undressed, leaving her clothes behind the large boulder on the left bank. She swept her long, dark hair up on top of her head and twisted it expertly into a bun. She entered the cool water with a gasp and swam out to the center of the pool. She lay back and floated, listening to the rush of the water downstream and the whisper of a breeze through the trees. The cool water was bliss in the late summer North Carolina heat. Ripplets of water stroked her skin. Too bad she couldn't fall asleep here.

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this story was written in April 2003; copyright Elena Felsig

this page was last updated 5/16/03