Scaredy Cat, Part 2

Operation: Scared You First

Do you like scary movies and suspenseful books? Do you like being scared and scaring people? When I was young, and even today, I would answer, “Yes, yes, yes and yes!”

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It is August In the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. The “girls” – my sister Julie, friends Charlotte and Cindy, and I – have decided to camp out at Graylock, a secluded campground in the wooded property of the Hiawatha Sportsman’s Club. The campground is rarely used, almost abandoned, and offers very little as far as “extras.” It was designed, I suppose, for real campers: ones who build their own fires, pitch their own tents, catch and clean their own fish, and are quite comfortable relieving themselves by squatting behind a tree. (Note to reader: I am not a real camper.)

We are excited. We spent the day organizing, gathering the supplies we’d need for our one-night adventure. We have two two-man tents, sleeping bags, toilet paper, flashlights, bug spray, firewood, lighters and lighting fluid, for just-in-case. The campground has an old, neglected outhouse hidden under vines and spiders and is way too scary for me to even consider using. I have never mastered the skill of peeing outdoors and frankly, I’d be afraid of squatting on a spider or snake if I did. I plan to suffer through the night and hopefully, be able to wait until I get back to our cabin tomorrow morning to relieve myself. It will be a challenge.

It’s just starting to get dark. We’re gathered around the campfire, talking and swatting mosquitoes when we’re surprised by a car driving up to our campsite. Charlotte’s brother Nick parks his car and gets out.

“What are you doing here?” Charlotte asks.

“I was just with Terry and Brad and them and I wanted to warn you guys that they’re planning to come out here and scare you tonight,” Nick explains.

We should have known that the “boys” – Terry, Brad, Jim and Tim – would try to scare us. Ha! We’ll teach them not to mess with us!

We devise a plan.

There are several metal trashcans throughout the clearing of the campgrounds. When you’re in the woods, it’s important to keep your trash secure so you don’t attract bears. All of the cans have lids. We need the lids to execute our plan, so we spread out and collect them all. We’ll have to secure the lids back onto the cans before we go to sleep, and hopefully, before any bears come. And bears had better not come.

Nick, our snitch, decides to join in on the fun. Operation: Scared You First. He parks his car on the opposite end of the campgrounds, so it won’t be seen and questioned by the scare team, our target.

We aren’t sure when the boys will be coming to haunt us, but we’re pretty confident it’ll be after dark and probably after we get into our tents for the night. We figure the boys will probably be waiting and watching us from the woods prior to their attack, so they can time it well. It’s important to get all of our preparations completed before they start watching us. Hopefully, they’re not spying on us right now or they’ll not only see us collecting lids, they’ll know Nick is here with us.

Mission accomplished, we hurry back to our campsite and hastily throw all the lids into the tent Cindy and I will be sharing later on.

Our plan is to sit around the campfire until it’s time to turn in. Instead of separating into two tents, we’ll all squeeze into the one with the lids. Nick will already be hiding in the tent. We’ll wait until we start seeing shadows moving outside the tent and then burst from the tent making a racket by banging trash can lids together and screaming. We know we’ll scare the crap out of all the boys.

We count the lids we’ve collected, and we don’t have enough for each of us to bang two lids together. We search through our gear for anything metal we can use to hit against the lids. We’re able to secure a hammer (that we had used to secure the spikes for the tents), one large metal spoon, and a couple of smaller spoons. The smaller spoons are worthless. They’re just too short to hold like a drumstick and they make next-to-no sound when they’re struck against a trashcan lid. We’ll have to make up for less clanging by doing more screaming, I guess.

We girls return to the campfire while Nick hides in the tent. We try to act normal for our secret audience. When it finally gets dark, we prepare to turn in — at least we’re acting as though we are.  We make a show of putting away our things. We keep the fire going because it’s pretty cold outside. Two at a time, we retire. We try to make it look as though we’re going into separate tents, but we’re not.

The four of us cram ourselves into the tent with Nick and all the lids. There is no room to spare. With little space to maneuver, it’s difficult to keep the noise down as we equip everyone with either two lids or a lid and tool.

It’s dark inside the tent and I can just imagine a bunch of spiders crawling all over the trashcan lids. Why did we decide to bring them into the tent Cindy and I are going to be sleeping in? With my worries about having to pee and now spiders, there’s little to no chance I’m going to be able to sleep tonight. It’s funny that I have no concern at all about a possible visit to our camp by a black bear.

The dwindling light of the campfire will cast a shadow on our tent if anyone approaches.

Now we wait.

You know, waiting and anticipating that someone is about to scare you can be just as tense, nerve-wracking and scary as someone actually scaring you.

Thank God, we don’t have to wait very long. I already have to pee. I was worried that if we had to wait very long, well, that I might have an accident. I’m anxious that a spider might start crawling up the inside of my shirt sleeve any second. I keep slapping at my arms, hoping to thwart any advancement of both the real and imagined arachnids. And now, we’re going to be rushing out of the tent like demented demons… All of this tension could easily culminate in disaster: my peeing my pants. And I’m pretty sure Cindy would not appreciate having to sleep all night in a tent with a girl wearing urine-soaked jeans. I imagine it would be like sleeping in a never-cleaned gas station bathroom. Not cool.

We see the first shadow. The atmosphere in the tent is electric. It’s difficult staying quiet inside the tent but the boys outside the tent are having a tough time too. We can hear them approaching with the snapping of branches and undergrowth. Every now and then we hear a stifled curse. We were thoughtful enough to leave the fire burning, giving them some guiding light. You’d think they’d be more careful about where they were stepping.

Our timing has to be perfect. We are expecting four guys and we want them all to be pretty close to the tent.  We’re assuming that they’ll think the four of us are in two tents, and that’s fine. The tents are only a few feet away from each other so we should be able to scare all four boys at the same time. We had decided to house ourselves in one tent for the coup, so that when we start making our loud, chaotic commotion, it’ll be at the exact same time.

Finally, Nick gives the signal. We erupt from the tent in a cacophony of metal banging metal, screaming as loud as we can. We’re making so much noise, I’m a bit scared myself.

On top of all the racket we’re making, I can hear men screaming and cursing. And I know we did it. We beat those scaredy cats at their own sneaky game!

Footnote: In case you’re wondering, I made it through the night without peeing outside in the wilderness or in my pants. The next morning my friends dawdled. Sipping coffee and considering a morning hike, for God’s sake! I couldn’t believe it. Let’s move it, move it, move it, ladies! I screamed it my head. I’ve got to get home and pee!

Footnote: My cousin Molly once told me that if I held in my pee all the time, I’d eventually end up with chronic bladder problems. Her mom had told her so and Aunt Mary Ellen had been a nurse. Instead of heeding her advice, I decided to conduct a real-life, life-long experiment just to prove her right. And she was.