Campfire
We’re sitting around the campfire, and everyone is getting sleepy. Yawns all around after the sunset, listening to the forest put itself to be, and the fun of watching Dad’s whisky bottle melt. We’re sitting and waiting for the big flames to settle down to a nice warm glow. It’s chilly so we agree to take turns tossing logs on the fire since none of us will sleep all that well. As the hours go by it’s just Uncle Tim and I staring at the fire. We’ve been doing this trip once every couple of years. I don’t know if the man has ever said more than a few words to me at a time, but I feel comfortable around him. He’s a big bear of a guy and everyone likes having him around.
“You can rest a bit,” he said. “I’ll keep it going.”
“I’m ok,” I said. “I get a little creeped out, out here. It seems so dark after staring at the fire for so long.”
We sit a while, listening to the forest, and I tell him he can nap. I’ll set an alarm on my watch because the logs are taking about 20 minutes to burn down.
“I won’t be able to,” he said. “I don’t like this dark shit either.”
I chuckle. We sit and stare, hearing the crackle and hiss of the fire. Poking the logs and embers, nodding at one another when it’s time to put another log on.
I stand and stretch. I ask if he wants another beer or anything. I’m going to grab a water.
“No,” he said, and we go back to watching the fire. Uncle Tim fidgets in his chair.
“Is there any reason you get ‘creeped out,’ as you say? Have you always not slept when we camp? I never noticed.”
“I don’t’ know,” I said. “I went camping with friends a few years ago and it started. Can’t even camp in the backyard. I try to close my eyes, but every sound keeps me awake. Easier to just stay that way. I usually fall asleep just before sunrise.”
“Aeronautical sunrise, I think they call it. Maybe astronomical. When the sky light up before the sun come up. Puts me to sleep too.”
“What about you? Have you always stayed awake all night?”
“I do. Same as you, I guess.” He is quiet for a minute. “Had a bad experience.
We stay quiet. I want to hear more but it doesn’t sound like he wants to talk about it, and I am kind of thrilled he’s said this much. Even asked me a question. I sit, shifting in my seat. He notices and clears his throat. He stands up, grabs a beer, comes back to the fire, and starts talking.
“I haven’t talked about this in a long time.
“I was about your age, how old are you now? 17? Well, your Grandpa Gene and Grandma Bern moved us from DC to Essex when he took a sales job. We were always moving for this or that, but we had been in DC for about 8 years before I transferred high schools. Your Dad was still in grade school, so I think he didn’t mind, but I wasn’t happy. I had a lot of friends and was pretty good at sports. Even had a girl but had to leave all that behind. Do you have a girlfriend?”
“No,” I say. “Not really.” I feel a flush come into my cheeks. I’m about to go on, but he starts talking again.
“When we got to Essex, the basketball coach reached out because he heard I played varsity ball, and I came out to a summer practice. Going from a private school to a public was different, but ball is ball, so I took up with the guys ok.
“The team was taking a trip out to a little college for a basketball camp. One of those overnight deals. Most of these guys hadn’t been out of the city, and you know, the woods out here aren’t like those woods back east. Those are some dense woods once you get out toward Pennsylvania. Anyway, on the trip one of the guys, Tiny I think, he started talking about the woods and how scary they looked, and I mentioned going camping. My Grandpa Lloyd, your Grandma Bern’s dad, used to take us out all the time. Anyway, these guys all start teasing me, you know private school kid and all, and I say it’s no biggie. We used to sleep out in sleeping bags, no tents, just like this. We passed a sign showing a campsite off the highway, and they said, “like that?” and I said yep. Head to a campground, make a fire, sleep out under the stars. I poured it on a bit thick because I wanted them to like me, you know, but really, I didn’t like camping all that much. I think Grandpa Lloyd just took us to get away from your great-Grandma because he was drunk most of the time we camped.
“Anyway, we get to the college and meet the other teams and it’s a drag. There are a lot of drills, some scrimmages, and our team’s pretty outclassed. We had some big guys, like two guys over 6’10” but they were more like football players. That afternoon the coach disappeared, and the guys start talking like we should take off too. Len, one of the forwards, he knew where coach kept the keys to the van and next thing I know the guys are saying I should take them camping. I should have said no, but again, I just needed them to like me. I told them to grab their gear and let’s go.
“We stole out after dinner before they started doing some evening event like a movie or something. We all had our backpacks and sleeping bags for the dorms, so it was kind of like we were camp ready. The exit for the campground wasn’t too far back on the road, and once we got off the highway it was a few miles in, I think. The thing I remember most is the woods seemed way denser, way taller, like as soon as we got off. The sun was still up but it was dark on that road.
“We got close to the camp and there was a little general store like place. You know, to get snacks, cokes and supplies for fishing or whatever. There was a clerk there and she was about our age. She had orange hair and thick makeup around her eyes. Like a raccoon. I don’t think she had seen many black guys or maybe just not so many big guys. Only Tiny was regular sized, under 6 feet or so. It felt like we were back in time or something, except for her hair and pierced ears.
“Anyway, the guys are farting around and making jokes, pretending to shoplift and stuff, and one of them (probably Tiny – he was such a talker) said something like “I bet she’s a freak” and another one said “I’ll lock the door” and another guy went to the door and I thought, well here we go. It was feeling dangerous. Luckily Leonard, I think his name was, Leonard who was like 6”7” and 250 lbs was like, ‘let’s just get out of here,’ and I was so relieved. I said to the girl, how far to the camp? And I remember she said just over a mile and mouthed ‘thank you,’ and I said we should get moving to make it to camp before dark.
“It was too late to be heading to camp, and this was before cell phones and all this shit we have now, and the path to the camp was dark. We should have turned around. The guys had never been in the woods, and they were making jokes and fake bird noises and bear growls and shit like that. Running ahead and jumping out from behind trees. I didn’t know what I was doing but these guys really didn’t know what anyone was doing.
“We came to this clearing and there were a few sheep in there. One of the sheep was bleating and it was on its back. I said when a sheep falls over like that they need to be helped up. Well, this was maybe the funniest thing they ever heard and ‘how does a city boy know this,’ and I tried to tell them about my uncle and his farm. Then Jon unlatched the gate, started in to the sheep and said to me, ‘well, what do you do?’ I told him just grab a bunch of wool on its back and flip it over.
“The sheep got louder, and louder as big Jon got closer, and the other sheep turned to see what was going on. The guys headed into the clearing and started grabbing sticks and things and saying shoo-shoo while Jon got to the sheep and manhandled it back up. Once he flipped it, it ran off to the rest of the flock, which was now coming at us. Kind of menacing, like. These were not like the sheep on my uncle’s farm, these were much bigger. In the receding light their whiteness was almost glow-like. The guys kept throwing sticks and another grabbed a rock and, you know, it was like a 100 to one shot, but he whipped this rock toward the group of sheep and, I don’t know, it must have been a big rock or something, but we heard this crack! And this one sheep just dropped.”
I gasp.
“I know. It was terrible. But now like a hundred other sheep were all around us and walking toward us. It was scary. It was like they were possessed or something because they were all quiet and it was getting dark, but the sky was still light enough for us to see them and they just kept moving toward us.
“We kept backing up and yelling and threw more things at them but then someone took off through the gate, and then we all took off running across the path into the woods. Somehow, the sheep were already outside the gate too, and the guys were like oh shit oh shit and we were dodging through the woods, but you could still see the sheep. Everywhere.
“There was another clearing up ahead and we ran off toward it. Someone said, ‘Look!’ and there was a house. It was dark like no one lived there. We ran up to the porch and someone pushed open the door.
“I am not one to do something like go into strange houses, but the sheep were freaking us out and since the door was open, we all go inside. It was totally empty, but kind of like people had just left, right? It was stale, and there were dishes, and the windows were broken and dirty but we could see outside and the sheep were just standing there. Looking at the house.
“A couple of us decided to go upstairs to get a better look at the sheep and it was all rickety and creepy and when we got upstairs, I went with Leonard and Jon and Tiny into what looked like the main room and we could see all the sheep. The room smelled like something.”
He absentmindedly reached for another log and tossed it on the fire. We watched the flames reach around the log and burst into a flame.
“Then Tiny was like ‘there’s someone in the bed’ and my eyes were adjusting to the dark and by the time I looked to the bed there was a figure standing up and it was big. Bigger than any of us and definitely broader, I mean we were big high school kids, but this thing was way bigger. And the smell. Once it was up the smell was everywhere. I won’t forget that; it was like, well you remember when you were gutting your first deer and you nicked the intestine?”
I nod. The smell made me vomit.
“It was like that, but a hundred times worse.”
Tim stabs at the fire, and I realize I haven’t been breathing. This story! From Tim! My sister will never believe it. My brain is racing trying to catch up to what he’s saying. He goes on.
“Once it was up, the thing started screaming. So much was happening. I remember being paralyzed, just standing there. I think Tiny or Leonard screamed back in this weird low sound, but now that I say that, we were all screaming, and one of the guys took a run at the thing and then it started attacking us and everything went crazy. At one point I jumped in and it was like the worst kind of street fight. Howling and screaming and swearing. I remember swinging as hard as I could, and hitting the thing and it was like I hit a brick wall. I remember getting hit. Its big hairy arm took me right off my feet, throwing me into the wall. It knocked the wind out of me, and there dust everywhere. I was trying to cough, and could taste blood, and felt myself pissing my pants, and had an overwhelming urge to shit. Later the guys told me it basically beat the shit our of all of us, throwing everyone out of the way to get out of the room. Then the thing crashed down the stairs and out into the woods. One of the biggest guys on the team was just heading up the stairs when the thing ran down and basically ran right through him. The other guys downstairs didn’t see it all that well since the house was so dark, but everyone said it was covered in hair and kind of roaring – it took the door right off the hinges. I kind of remember hearing it roar outside but I was pretty out of it.”
My mind is racing trying to imagine the scene. My arms are tense and palms sweaty as I think, what would I have done?
“At some point we all kind of huddled together on the first floor. Someone put the door back up and I said I might have broken a rib and other guys had scratches. Guys were breathing hard, and one had a fistful of hair he just stared at. We just sat there for a long time, looking around for this thing, not saying a word. It was crazy quiet but it was like we could see everything. I can’t explain it.
“The wind picked up and it started to rain. The place was leaking all over and there was lightning and thunder and I just remember shivering. I could not stop shivering. A couple of the guys were kind of muttering prayers and I said something like, ‘Jesus, if you get me out of here I promise to be a better person’ and stuff like that. I kid you not. I think we all thought that thing was going to come back and finish us off. The rain stopped but the storm was still going on. After one of the lightning flashes someone said the sheep were gone and it felt like time was standing still. Tiny was crying in those low sad cries. We didn’t move until daybreak. It was a long night.
“The longest night of my life.”
He pauses for what seems like hours. I shift in my seat. It feels like my leg is asleep but I don’t make a sound. The forest is quiet for the first time all night. It seems like even the crickets are listening. Uncle Tim goes on.
“Eventually, the storm was gone, the sky started to light up and you could feel the tension start to release, just a little. I don’t remember who stood up first, but we cautiously went out. No one said a word. I remember looking back and Len was putting the broken door back, which we laughed about later. So ridiculous. What was he doing? We didn’t laugh then, it was like we were communicating with our minds as we inched our way back through the woods to where it seemed like the clearing should be.
“When we got there, it was just like we left it. Except there were no sheep in the clearing, the gate was closed, and all our stuff was torn up, thrown around, and soaking wet. Tiny started saying something about his brother was going to kill him because it was his favorite backpack, and his brother was in the army or something like that, but no one else said a thing. We just picked up what was left of our stuff and made our way back down the trail. The forest was full of sounds. It was waking up or something.
“We got to the van outside the little store. You know how the sun comes up and you look at the clock, expecting it to be like 10am and it’s only like 5 or 6? It was like that. No one at the store. No one anywhere. Just us and nature after a storm. Everything kind of like celebrating our being alive.
“We turned the van around, went to the camp, and walked in right about when breakfast was being served. It felt like we won something. Someone, probably Tiny again, said to me, ‘aww man, someone smells like shit,’ holding his nose and making a wave. Every one of us busted out laughing at me, myself included. It was embarrassing because I really did shit myself, but I don’t think I was the only one because we all almost ran straight to the shower. I was bruised across my entire chest. Here to here,” he said, pointing at his armpits. “Len had a terrible scratch, but other than that it was mostly bruises. I think adrenaline got us through that day.
“I know people saw us sneak out. A few of the other teams guys, especially this one f’n guy from oakmont, I can still see his face, they were all like ‘ooh you guys are busted’ but no one really said anything. Back then you kind of stuck to your own and it was one of the few times in those years I felt like I belonged to something.
“We stayed in the dorm the next night and I slept like a rock. Coach drove us back the next day. He had to notice we were all beat up and quiet, but he never said a word. Weird guy.”
Tim digs around the fire a bit. In the distance birds start to sing. We both jump as a flock of crows caw and scatter into the sky as if startled by something nearby. I watch Uncle Tim stand up and take a step toward the sound. He sits down, agitated, but keeps talking.
“It was a short year for me because your Grandpa moved us halfway through the year again. Moved again a half year later. I don’t know if your Dad ever talked about those years. I think your Grandad was dealing with something, but my mom probably was too. Anyway, I played football with those guys and basketball had just started when I was told to pack up. I never even said goodbye. I never looked those guys up. Doesn’t even seem like it was real.
“Such a long time ago.”
Greg Chambers creative writing group March 2025, inspired by a story Chris Gethard told on stage
