The camp is large, kids running everywhere. The trees hanging over the gravle road. The lunchroom perched on top of stilts, sits high looking down at the camp. The stonewall runs down the path to the rustic cabins. Lane is excited, and nervous at the same time, sitting quietly in the passenger seat. He turns up the music because he knows it is the last he will hear for a month. Lanes eyes glowing, his mom asks for Lane's cabin number. "Hawkeye," the counselor explains. "The first one on the right." The excitement reaches a high as Lane burst from the car only clenching on to his pillow as he runs. He knows, from stories his sisters have told him, that you have to race to get a bottom-bunk bed. Lane sees the sign as turns the corner of the cabin. Hawkeye in bold white letters was nailed above the door-frame. Lane walked up the three wooden stairs and paced through the screen door. Lane met two boys already in the cabin Wilson and Patrick. He asked them which beds they had chosen. "I have the bottom-left bed and he has the bed right there," said Wilson pointing to the top bunk. Lane became rushed with excitement. He chose the bottom bunk and slept there for the next month.
