Part 5: The Unexpected Judas
By Tarowen ([email protected])
The Jabberwockys returned to camp in time for lunch--tuna melts with plastic American cheese and tomato soup. Keith sat with them and cheerfully consumed three sandwiches, and joined in singing 'Tie Me Kangaroo Down,' 'Goin' on a Lion Hunt,' and 'One Tin Soldier.' As the groups dispersed for rest hour Keith took his leave, throwing Jack a friendly grin. Jack grinned back.
Retrieving the Lynxes' mail, Jack herded the boys back to the tent to unpack, promising to pass out letters when they had finished. As he did so fifteen whiny minutes later, he saw an envelope bearing his own name.
Jack had received many more letters than he'd expected, as Jen and Joey were faithful correspondants, and even Dawson and Pacey had managed to put pen to paper. His letter from Andie had boosted Jack's spirits, as she seemed to be making progress, but the postcard from his father--saying almost nothing--he had tossed aside. This envelope, though, was not a letter. It bore merely his name, in a hand he didn't recognize. It had to be a note from someone at camp, but Jack couldn't understand why someone--other than Ty, he grimaced--would send him a note. Well, perhaps it was some official paper he had to fill out for Travis or the nurse.
He broke the seal, then heard giggles and a far too distinctive sound. Glancing up, Jack growled, "Hey! Tyler! Quit pissing off the tent platform! There's a perfectly good washhouse less than twenty seconds away!"
The boys were still giggling as Tyler finished and returned to his sleeping bag. Jack shot him an exaggerated frown. "Next time, latrine duty. With a toothbrush."
"Sorry," Tyler grinned unrepentantly, and Jack sighed and unfolded his papers.
They were computer printouts. Jack found himself confronted with the complete lyrics to a song from Rogers and Hammerstein's 'South Pacific:' 'There is Nothin' like a Dame.' One verse had been circled.
There's not a thing that's wrong
With any man here,
That can't be cured by
putting him near
A girly, womanly,
female, feminine
Dame!
Jack took a perfunctory glance at the envelope, but still didn't recognize the writing. Ty must have had someone else write it--had probably gone to the library on his day off, printed this out, then had the librarian inscribe Jack's name.
Jack was about to crumple it up as he had all the other notes, when a blinding realization struck. *He had Ty.* He could have him fired within the ten minutes it would take to reach Travis. Feeling his blood tingle, Jack glanced around his tent. His tired campers were either sacked out, reading, or playing a quiet game of Magic. Jack returned to the printout, pondering his way through the maze.
Keith was gay. Travis loved Keith, and obviously accepted him. Travis would understand what Keith had gone through, and would be sympathetic to someone else weathering the same storm. By now both Travis and Keith knew Jack well enough to trust him--knew he wouldn't lie to them. So if Jack revealed Ty's persecution...
Lying back on his squeaking bunk, Jack contemplated the orange tent canvas. He actually had Ty twice. He could get Ty fired for the persecution, or the drinking. Ty could spread his venom as far as he wanted with Travis, and all it would get him was a one-way ticket out of Secret Creek. And if Jack asked Travis, he was sure the director would keep his secret.
Though Ty wouldn't.
Reflecting again, Jack realized that if he played these cards, Ty would certainly out him all over the camp before he left. Travis still wouldn't fire Jack, but perhaps some kids would write their parents, who would protest to Travis, and that would start a whole wasp's nest Jack and Travis could certainly do without. Jack could withstand the staff learning about him--knew enough of them now to know that most would probably support him, and as for those that wouldn't, well, he'd weathered it before and could weather it again. But if parents started giving Travis a hard time, that would put Travis in an impossible position. Jack respected the director too much to do that.
With an inward groan, Jack crumpled the sheets and did a three-pointer into the trash basket (a couple of kids applauded, and Jack took a mock bow). Back to square one; Ty holding the ace, and knowing exactly how to play it. Jack was just as trapped as before.
Liar.
Jack blinked. Where had that come from? He settled deeper into his bunk, inhaling the familiar, musty mattress mingling with damp, piney air. He traced the situation through again, but had to decide, once more, that he was trapped.
Liar. You could get out if you wanted to.
Jack's heart beat unevenly. Could he get out? Well, if he wanted to risk Ty's wrath and retaliation he could. Would it really be so bad? If something happened, Jack could always deny his sexuality (though not to Travis), and Travis could throw the blame on Ty as a disgruntled ex-counselor. After breaking camp rules right and left, Ty would have no trust or standing at Secret Creek, whereas Travis had years of trust and respect behind him. Jack's heart sped up. It would work, he was sure of it. And for Travis--and for Secret Creek--Jack would have no hesitation denying his true self. After all, he wouldn't be here forever. He'd already claimed Joey as his girlfriend, and if he called and explained the situation to her, she would happily write him some gushy letters he could leave lying around.
He did hold the cards, after all.
So why was he lying here on his bunk, listening to his kids arguing about Pokemon?
That question kept Jack occupied all through rest period, and indeed through the rest of their busy day: trail ride (Nat howling as he tumbled off into the beaver ponds), arts and crafts (scrambling to finish Goodwill gifts--this was the year of clay rattles, and so far only one had broken--Nat's, of course), variety time (quick and cold shower), hot dog cookout (why did kids always try to start fires with wet cedar needles?), sunset hike to Curly Bob's cave (gleefully goosefleshed kids searching for moccasin prints), bonfire on Secret Creek beach (with marshmallows, guitars, and burned tongues), and staff snack (Ty's eyes smug and satisfied over his meatloaf sandwich).
When Jack grabbed his flashlight for night patrol, he still hadn't found an answer. He wished he could join everyone else in TR or the Art Palace, playing Scattergories or finishing his mobile, discussing football or Buffy or moldy hiking boots or who'd get the next mustard cream puff (one of Kurt's little jokes). Anything but Ty, being gay, or holding cards.
As it was, he was stuck doing patrol with Deanna. To make things simpler they split up, she taking the girls' area and Jack taking the boys.' It was a dank, chilly night, the sky white with clouds and trees stark against the backdrop. It wasn't raining, but the air felt saturated, and the wind raised goose bumps on exposed skin.
Dutifully Jack trudged through the boys' area, checking tents to make sure kids were all right (and present), reassuring them that someone was available should they need help. Sometimes it was fun to walk quietly, lights off, and listen in to conversations, but tonight all tents were quiet.
At the end of his first round, Jack met Deanna on the road between the sections. She agreed to check the field and council ring for surreptitious snugglers, if he'd do the same for the corral. "You won't find anyone," Jack predicted, flipping his collar up. "Too damn cold."
Deanna laughed. "Well, we have to check. After that I'm heading to TR. I'll do another round before ten thirty."
"Me too. I mean, after I check the boys," Jack grinned. "Good hunting. If you find anyone, scare them my way. I've been at camp nearly three weeks and I haven't gotten to chase a single camper through the woods."
"I'll do my best!"
They parted, and Jack headed for the corral.
If anyone sought out the corral for amorous purposes--camper or counselor--they'd make for the hay platform. High, stacked bales provided both staircases and cuddling spaces, albeit somewhat prickly ones.
Snapping off his light, Jack trod softly on the wood chips before the stalls, keeping under the cover of the trees. He sharpened his ears to catch anything other than the wind, Secret Creek, or a raccoon on the prowl. This job required caution; earlier in the session Rick had caught two counselors incriminatingly entwined, and his laughter had woken most of the girls' section. The following day he'd found his boxers flying from the flagpole, though it really hadn't chipped his durable good humor. Jack didn't want a repeat performance with his own shorts, or anything worse.
Slowly Jack approached, and by God, he heard something. 'My lucky day,' he thought, sidling closer to hone in on the voices. Counselor or camper? Hard to tell. Mostly what Jack heard was the rustle of clothing, sighs, indistinct mumbles, and the more distinct sounds of... He had to suppress the bubble of yearning that rose in his chest, edging ever closer.
Now he could hear more clearly. Kissing, urgent and quick. Whispers. "Shh! There's still counselors out!"
"Screw counselors!"
Grinning to himself, Jack stepped in front of the platform and snapped on his flashlight, shining the beam directly on the hay. Two figures sprang instantly apart, blinking and disheveled.
And Jack felt his heart plummet. The two campers were Mark and Jason, the inveterate enemies from Ty's tent.
For two seconds, three, they all paused, frozen, the light harsh and unforgiving. Then abruptly Jack snapped it off and wheeled around. "Go!" He hissed. "Go! Now! I didn't see you!"
Scrabbling on hay. The thud of boots on wood, then scattering wood chips as the boots fled into the trees. One set of boots. Jack waited, but the other did not join the first. Turning slightly, Jack hissed again, "Go on! Get out of here!"
"Can I... Would you... Oh, crap!"
Frowning, Jack pivoted. In the ambient light he could see Mark, the tow-headed boy, sitting on a bale with his head in his hands. Reluctantly Jack approached. "Are you all right?"
"No," came the surprisingly calm answer.
Christ. Climbing the bales, Jack gingerly perched near the boy. "Is there...something I can do?"
Mark looked up, face unreadable in the shadows. "You're Jack, aren't you?"
"Yes. I'm the Lynx counselor. You're in the Cougars, right?"
Mark nodded. "Ty's group."
There was a pause. Jack had no idea what to say next. Thankfully Mark took the decision out of his hands. "Jack... I have to ask... Ty says you're gay. Are you?"
Jack's blood pooled. "Ty told you I was gay?"
"Well, no...not exactly," Mark amended, shifting position. He kept his eyes lowered. "He just...makes comments, you know? Like..." He licked his lips, glancing at Jack.
"That's all right. I can guess," Jack said wryly.
"But is it true?"
Jack sighed. "Yes. It's true."
Mark let out a long breath, and straightened. "Then can you...can I... I don't understand what's happening to me," he said pleadingly. "Why is it happening? What did I do? What's wrong with me?"
The words burned Jack like a flame. Only last night Keith had listened as Jack had poured out his confusion and frustration. Now it was Jack's turn to listen, and comfort, and help. "There's nothing wrong with you," he avowed softly, making himself more comfortable. "And there's nothing wrong with your feelings. Whatever people may say, or whatever jokes Ty makes."
"I just...I don't understand what I'm feeling," Mark admitted. "I don't know if I'm gay, or if it's just Jason..." He shoved fingers through his hair. "I've never done anything like this before," he mumbled. "Jason says he's always known, but me... I don't want to be gay!" He asserted plaintively, and Jack felt sympathy rise like a tingling tide.
"I know," he consoled. "I didn't want to be either. And maybe you're not. Why don't you tell me about it, and we'll see if we can figure anything out, all right?"
Mark wrapped arms around his knees. The heavy, fermented scent of the hay hovered about them. "You won't...tell Ty anything, will you?"
"God, no!" Jack uttered a sardonic laugh. "How insane do you think I am?"
Mark echoed the laugh, tentative. "I guess that was a stupid question. He doesn't like you, does he?"
"He feels threatened by me--by anyone like me," Jack replied, fingering his flashlight. "His religion tells him that being gay is wrong. In his eyes, I'm an abomination--a sinner." Jack shrugged. "It's what he's been brought up to believe. It's hard to go against that."
"But you don't believe that?" Mark's voice was urgent.
Jack faced him, laid a hand on his shoulder. "No, Mark. I don't believe that."
Mark let out a long, deep breath, then started talking.
Some time later--an hour? Jack wasn't sure--Mark seemed talked out. As they climbed out of the hay, the boy threw Jack a shy look. "Thanks...for listening."
"My pleasure," Jack smiled, touching his shoulder. "Thanks for trusting me. Now you'd better--" Suddenly a flashlight flicked over them, and they froze.
"Now you'd better get back to your tent, wasn't that what you were about to say?" Ty inquired pleasantly. His eyes slid to Mark. "A bit young for you, isn't he, McPhee?"
Jack felt his jaw clench. He turned to Mark. "Go on. I'll deal with this."
"But he didn't do anything, Ty!" Mark swore frantically. "We were just talking! I swear!"
"Get back to the tent," Ty replied coldly. "I'll deal with you in the morning."
"Go on," Jack urged. "It'll be all right. I promise."
"But--"
"Go," Jack commanded. "Don't worry about me."
Reluctantly, shooting uneasy glances between the two counselors, Mark retreated towards the boys' area.
When he'd gone, Jack folded his arms. "Get that light out of my face."
Ty lowered the beam. "Doing a little recruiting?" He questioned unpleasantly. "Inducting the next generation? What's wrong? Couldn't find anyone your own age?"
"If you want me to punch you, Ty, you're in for a disappointment," Jack averred through clenched teeth. "I've done nothing wrong, and I don't intend to give you any grounds for complaint."
"Nothing wrong?" Ty demanded. "You arrogant bastard! I held my tongue when I thought you were trying to turn yourself around, but when you go after my campers, that's the last straw. You're not fit to be around children!"
"And you are?" Jack spat back. "Spouting your prejudice and intolerance to impressionable kids?"
"I tell them the truth!"
"You tell them *your* truth! You never listen to what they have to say! Never try to help them figure out their own truth!"
"There is only one truth!" Hissed Ty. His shoulders were rigid, the light shivering in his grasp. "I've had enough of you," he swore. "God knows I've done my best, but you're beyond help. I'm getting you the hell out of here before you can do any more damage. I'm going to Travis!"
"Good!" Snapped Jack, flicking on his light. "That's the only decent idea you've had all summer. By all means, let's go to Travis! After you." He waved an ironic hand towards the road.
"I wouldn't be so cocky if I were you," Ty growled, striding out. Jack paced him. "I know what I saw, and I know the truth about you."
"And I know the truth about you, you..." Jack clamped his lips shut. It wasn't worth it.
"My minister will vouch for my honesty. Who's going to believe you?" Ty inquired coldly as they came to the lodge field. Lights still burned in TR, late though it was, and they could hear muted laughter. It seemed miles away.
Jack didn't respond, just kept striding towards Travis' house. It wasn't far, and thank goodness lights still shone downstairs. As they crossed the porch they could hear lively voices, male voices, and Jack recognized Keith's tones. Things just couldn't get any better for him, and he was going to enjoy it. Fury sang in his veins, mitigated by cool contempt and grim satisfaction.
Ty beat Jack to the door, knocking loudly. The voices stilled, and footsteps sounded across the floor. Opening the door, Travis' eyes widened as he saw the two boys. "Something wrong, guys?"
"Can we come in?" Ty asked tightly, not looking at Jack.
Travis' brows rose, and he stepped aside to allow them into the hall. "Of course. Is this an emergency?"
"That depends on how you define emergency," Ty replied curtly as Travis shut the door behind Jack. "I'm sorry to say I have something unpleasant to report." His eyes on Jack were filled with loathing. "I just found Jack in the hay with one of my campers."
Travis frowned. "Jack, you're night patrol tonight, right? And you found one of Ty's campers at the corral?"
"I think you don't quite understand the situation." Ty stepped between them, insistent. "They were together. In the hay." Ty shot Jack another poisonous look. "I suppose I ought to have told you this at the beginning of the summer, Travis, but I held my tongue because I thought Jack was trying to change. It's clear to me now, though, that my silence has led to this..." He shook his brown head, unable to find the right word. "I feel responsible, and ashamed. I hope by telling you now, I can prevent any further problems this summer. Travis, Jack is gay."
Travis' brown eyes found Jack's blue ones, angry and apprehensive. The director's voice was composed, his features unruffled. "I know Jack is gay."
Both boys' jaws dropped. Jack said, "Did Keith--"
Travis shook his head. "I knew when I hired you, Jack. One of your references thought we should know."
"You...knew the whole time?" Jack blinked. "And you didn't say anything?"
Travis shrugged. "Why should I?"
Jack unfolded his arms. "Boy, do I feel stupid now."
Ty finally managed to get a sentence out. "You *knew* he was gay?" He demanded loudly, and Travis quickly hushed him, glancing towards the stairs.
"The kids are asleep, Ty."
"But...you *knew* and you still hired him?"
"Why shouldn't I?" Travis' tones were calm, but his eyes warned.
Ty breathed hard, clutching his flashlight. "But I found him in the hay with one of my campers!"
"What were they doing? Did you see?"
"No--it was dark--"
"Jack?" Travis swivelled. "What were you doing in the hay with one of Ty's campers?"
"He was having a personal problem," Jack replied. "He went there to try to sort it out, and I found him. I listened, and was sending him back to his tent when Ty found us. End of story."
"And you believe that?" Ty burst in.
"You said you didn't see anything else," Travis pointed out reasonably. "Why shouldn't I believe him? I'll talk to the camper in the morning, if you like."
Ty was quietly fuming. "I can't believe you could let this happen, Travis! What would parents say if they knew you'd deliberately hired a gay counselor? That you put their children at risk?"
Travis' expression had hardened. Reaching out, he gripped Ty's sleeve, and tugged him towards the living room. "Come with me," he ordered coolly. "There are some people here I want you to meet."
Jack followed, anticipation and apprehension mingling with the receding shock of Travis' announcement. In the comfortably worn living room, Keith rose from the blue couch, questions in his dark eyes. Next to him another man, lightly built and with pale hair slightly receding, also rose. He wore a patterned Norwegian sweater.
Travis dragged Ty in. "Ty, you already know my brother Keith." Keith nodded, narrowing eyes at his brother. "And this," Travis continued, gesturing towards the other man, "is Keith's partner--his lover. Father Luke MacGregor."
"Luke is fine," the man protested. "I don't wear the collar all the time." His hooded eyes, slightly melancholy, smiled at Ty.
Jack saw Ty had gone dead white. "F...Father?" Ty stammered.
"Indeed," Luke nodded. "Episcopal."
"So you see, Ty," Travis interposed, "if you want to stay at Secret Creek, you'll have to keep some of your opinions to yourself."
Ty had not heard. He was still staring at Luke, the priest now regarding him with a touch of concern. As was Keith. "Are you all right?" Keith asked.
"You're a priest?" Ty murmured incredulously.
"Do you...have some objection to priests?" Luke inquired.
Ty swallowed, and turned to Jack. Jack sucked in a breath. Ty's eyes were raw and unshielded, filled with a blinding pain Jack could only interpret as betrayal. Without another word Ty twisted out of Travis' grip and fled. The four men stood in sudden silence.
Luke glanced to Keith, then Travis. "Did I say something wrong? Should I--"
"No," Jack stopped him. He tried to put Ty's look out of his mind. That piercing pain... "It's not your fault." He forced himself to refocus. "Ty's...very religious, and his religion states that homosexuality is a sin. He's...not very good at dealing with it, and your being a priest, well..." He shrugged.
"But shouldn't we go after him--"
"I think he'd probably rather be alone," Jack shook his dark head. "I don't think he'd want to see any of us now."
Travis reached for a glass, settling back down in a venerable plaid armchair. "So, Jack--care to join us? Now that all secrets are out?"
"Please do," Keith smiled, folding back down with Luke. Jack noticed they clasped hands. "Luke's spent some time on Cape Cod, so you could reminisce together."
"Well, I...uh..." Jack shifted his flashlight to his other hand. "I should probably go do another round, then head off to bed. Up early, you know--Cowpoke Day and all." He'd seen the 'wanted' posters at staff snack, complete with a fairly creditable drawing of 'Stinky Stu.'
"Before you go," Travis halted him, "is there...anything you want to tell me?"
"About tonight?" Jack queried.
"Tonight, yesterday, the rest of camp..." Travis trailed off suggestively. "How are things going? Any problems with campers? ...Or counselors?"
And there was his opening. Jack was sure Travis had already guessed, or at least suspected after Ty's performance tonight. It was in the bag. He could have Ty on the road before breakfast.
So what held him back?
Again Jack remembered the brief, searing betrayal in Ty's eyes. And somehow, he couldn't bring himself to betray Ty further.
He threw Travis a guarded look. "Everything's fine. And if you want to talk to that camper, it's Mark. I don't know his last name."
"Are you sure everything's fine?" Three pairs of eyes questioned him.
"I'm...sure," Jack asserted, switching his flashlight back again.
Travis eyed him long, then nodded. "You will let me know if anything does happen that I need to know about?"
"Of course."
"Good. Then we'll bid you goodnight."
Jack made his farewells, and ducked out of the room. Closing the front door behind him, he headed back to camp, feeling uneasy. Except for the all-night porch light, the lights were now out in TR, the last few counselors dispersing to their bunks. Jack hesitated by the flagpole, unsure what to do next, and blinked as he saw Stu approaching.
"Jack," the riding counselor said curtly. "I'm glad I found you."
Jack's heart sped up. "Something wrong?"
"Don't know, but I have a feeling..." Stu scratched his scraggly beard, frowning.
"What is it?" Prodded Jack.
Stu faced him. "It's Ty. I think you need to go find him."
"Ty? What for?" Jack found his lips were dry.
"He just blew past me a little while ago, and..." Stu shook his head. "Something's not right. The look on his face..."
"But why me?"
"Because I don't think he'd listen to anyone else. He knows you--he's obsessed with you. You could get through to him."
"He hates my guts! I can promise you, I'm the absolute last person he wants to see tonight." But Jack glanced towards the woods and felt more apprehension trickle through his veins.
"Maybe that's what he needs," Stu countered. "Go find him."
"But--"
"No buts." Reaching out, Stu propelled Jack towards the boys' area. "Last I saw, he was heading towards the Old Settler's Road."
"But he could have gone anywhere!" Jack protested. "Overnight Island, Blasted Stump, Curly Bob's, the ropes course--"
"Find him, Jack."
Jack peered back at Stu. The riding counselor's eyes glinted in the porch light, and Jack recalled that Stu knew everything. Jack licked his lips. "Right. Will you check on my boys?"
"And Ty's. Go!"
Jack went.