Marc woke up to a cool breeze. He’s not much of a sleeper. He thinks he slept well. He took a walk over to the lake and jumped in. He toweled off, had some cereal and juice, and jumped into his car for the trip back home. He texted Alana, told her how much he missed her, and told her she would be here next time. She wrote back about how much fun she had with Tzipora. She said all was clean. Marc knows about their liaisons. He could care less.
Marc hit the expressway and cruised most of the way to the Smiths and Echo & The Bunnymen. Meanwhile, Jay was sitting home in his dump of an apartment. It looked like a welfare motel. He barely had the money to pay his rent. Kari came over. She did not look happy. She told him what happened on the beach with Alana. Jay punched a wall. His hand started to bleed. He lit a joint and cracked open a beer. He guzzled it down like a frat boy. Of course, he never went to college. He barely finished high school. The two argued for a little while.
Marc was making great time. Alana texted and said she was cooking dinner. Marc wondered what she was making. She is not known for cooking. Neither is he. Marc figured she was ordering takeout, and she’d warm it up. She thought she was cooking since she turned on the oven to warm up the schnitzel.
Anat was getting tired. She was in her third trimester. She hoped the last few weeks would be peaceful. Dan was busy buying baby items. They refused to do a gender reveal party. They wanted a surprise. They would be thankful and happy with whatever Hashem blessed them with. She would name the child after her grandmother no matter what. Jerry was busy practicing his olive throwing. The kid is getting stronger. Jen even called Anat to see how she was feeling. Anat laughed and smiled.
Marc had the day off. When he woke up, he told Alana he was going to camp. This time, he told her, not like the last time when he just snuck away. He asked her to play hooky. She had work to do. Marc understood. Alana also had plans to hook up with Tzipora after work. The hook-up would just be for dinner. Tzipora was very happily married. She was in surgery today. She had to work on a star athlete. Everything was kept under wraps. Afterward, the team and hospital would announce the success of the procedure.
Marc jumped into Alana’s Infiniti and headed upstate. The camp was cold and quiet in the winter. As usual, his iPhone played a heavy camp mix. Some tunes included “Pulling Mussels from the Shell,” “Baba O’Riley”, and mostly the Ramones. Marc was not looking to be sedated. Alana is his Sheena, and whether they had teenage lobotomies is up for debate. One of Marc’s camp friends likely did. He pulled into the shuttered camp and wept. All the happiest places were gone. This camp is a shell of what it was. The original Yankee Stadium is now a park. Greed changed the Stadium, and dumb leadership and a nasty health inspector wreaked havoc in Marc’s playground.
Marc drove to his hill. He walked around and saw the remnant of what once was all. He sat in his old leanto. It was the only thing still left. It was no longer sitting where it was. But Marc was happy it was still there. Lots of fun happened there. Kids leearrnned. Ice-cold Gennys were sipped, and people rested. Marc hoped Jay wasn’t in camp. He remembered the battle he had with him a year or so ago. Jay did not fit well into the program when it ran in the 80s. Jay did not fit in anywhere. Even his ex Diane knew that. Kari is a different story. She is dumber than Diane. At one point, Diane had a friend or two. Kari had none. Well, she has Jay. Let’s see if it lasts. If she starts with Alana again, she might not last.
Marc built a fire. He was hoping for something. But knew it may not happen. As usual Marc was drinking Cherikee Red and eating Freihofer’s. He had some Genny. He was gonna make some burgers. He started playing “Love Will Tear Us Apart” and “Elvis is Everywhere.” For an old camp friend whom he sees once a year, he played some Judas Priest. Marc hates metal. He quickly went to “Behind the Wheel” and kept Depeche playing.
Marc lit the fire and was dreaming about Alana. The two of them were the right match. They had their own screwed-up beliefs but helped so many. Not just by beating people evil people down with their superpowers.
Marc had just bit into a burger when he heard the noise he was dreaming of. Buffalo was coming into his area. Why in Narrowsburg were there buffalo? They are not native to the site. But that did not matter. The old sage of the camp, Marc’s hero, the Woodsman, always traveled with his herd.
Marc was getting excited. The Woodsman jumped off the last buffalo and sat next to Marc. First, they talked about the old latrine, which was now just a hunk of metal a yards away from them. He then told Marc his powers were getting stronger. He told him so was Alana. They will need them, and like he always tells Marc, the two need to stick together. The Woodsman told Marc to go up to the picturesque special window. He said there he would see a vision. The Woodsman gave Marc a special handshake and rode off to the lake.
Alana was at work. Things were calm. She needed calm. Marc was in his office. The same headhunter who called and blew him off when he returned her call reached out to him. Marc laughed. She is so pathetic. She wants to get battered with more pomegranates. He deleted her voicemail and went back to his document. Marc was not a fan of headhunters, other HR people, real estate, or legal folks. Never was. Marc likely never will be.
Meanwhile, Anat was monitoring the funds she managed. The market was tanking. That’s the trend these days. The school was about to let out. Jerry and Benjamin were gonna play. It is incredible how good friends they are. Anat still has in the back of her mind how Jen attacked her when she was a little kid in summer camp. It was a harrowing moment. She still can’t believe she let it all pass, and now her kid is best friends with Jen’s child. It doesn’t matter. Benjamin stood no chance against Jerry if he tried to follow in his mom’s footsteps and attack Jerry. Jerry has superpowers. Benjamin is just a sweet kid.
The two kids were hanging out in Central Park. No, they were not by themselves. Benjamin’s dad, Jake, was there, and his eyes were wide open to ensure the kids were OK. The only mess they got into was the ice cream cones he bought them. Their pants enjoyed it more than they did. The kids were throwing a Frisbee. The Frisbee was less light than a 165G. They will get to that when they are tweens. Some teenager knocked down their flying disc. The kids thought nothing of it. Jake thought it was an accident. The teen jumped on it and wouldn’t let them have it back. Benjamin ran to his dad. Jake got up from his bench and started to walk over. He was a little concerned. Jen filled him in about Jerry. He wanted things to stay calm.
Jake saw the teenager flat on the ground. Olives were all over him. Jerry was laughing and telling the big kid how, at this point, he was the big kid. Jake asked Jerry to walk away. Being a good kid, Jerry did. Of course, as he did, he fired olives all over the silly teen.
Marc was at work. He was productive and bored. Marc liked his job and company. Sometimes, he didn’t fit in with his coworkers. They had no idea about his powers. Today was one of the rare days Marc worked in his midtown office on the east side.
Alana had the day off. She went back to Riis Park to run. She hoped it was a quiet day. It was cold. But runners were on the boardwalk. She reminisced about Jen’s engagement at Coney Island. The two things she remembered most – were Marc telling Jen the two would always love each other. But they weren’t meant to be. Jen agreed. Of course, as Jen’s guy, Jake, was about to pop the question, Anat flew out of the medicinal waters and swiped the ring. Alana got it back. As we know, Jen is married and has a kid. Marc had to protect her during her whole pregnancy. Anat did everything she could to go after Jen.
While strolling down memory lane, she was running faster and faster. She was breaking a sweat. “Atmosphere” from Joy Division played into their “She’s Lost Control.” It was a fitting tune for what was about to happen.
Alana saw Kari by the water. Kari noticed Alana. Kari was higher than a kite. She had a flask of whisky. She had a needle in her arm. Her fat was bouncing around. She ran toward Alana and yelled, “You’re the bitch that beat up my boy.” Alana kept running. Kari said I can fight you with my whisky. I saw you dump your bottle of wine on Jay.
Alana thought she was dumb. However, her stupidity allowed Alana to keep her cover. Kari opened the flask and shot it at Alana. She missed. She threw some seashells at her. One hit her. Alana knew this was not worth her time. She kept running. Kari tried to run. She is too fat to pick up speed. Kari threw the flask and nailed Alana in the back. Now, she was upset.
She looked Kari right in her blue eyes. Her eyes opened, and Syrah flew out. Kari opened her mouth and tried to drink it. Alana shot figs out of her hands. The figs started to choke Kari. Alana felt bad. This girl is so pathetic. Alana walked over to her and pushed her onto the sand. She told her to stay away and said if she was smart, she should dump Jay. Kari cried on the sand. Alana cranked the Cure and resumed her run.
Jay was tired of being beaten by Alana, Anat and Marc. To add a bigger insult, his kid, Jerry, was now beating him up. Jerry is only in first grade at the Dwight School. Jay knew Diane was cleaning herself up and wanted nothing to do with him.
Jay decided to go to church one day. Diane was heading back to shul. She was taking everything slow. Jay liked some new woman—a goth chic. Anat and Alana are as goth as it gets. Marc floats between that and his Brooks Brothers, Lacoste, and Ralph Lauren classic prep look. Musically, the superheroes are all on the same beat. Jay’s a metalhead. We know Anat went to Stanford and loved Mike Mussina.
Jay and Kari, his new chic, were fighting. The two of them are cut out for each other. Both are super dumb. The two were getting high on the beach. Someone told them to leave. Jay wanted to be tough in front of Kari. He fired glass at the guy who wanted him to get away. Jay was laughing as he was beating this poor man down. Kari was laughing so hard. Her fat belly shook. Her piercings were shaking.
The man was in a lot of pain. Jay wouldn’t let up. All of a sudden, Jay was drenched in merlot and Chenin blanc. Alana was running on the boardwalk and heard the man’s screams. She looked over towards the ocean and saw what was happening. Alana was angry. She hates it when people break up runs. She worked hard at staying in her perfect shape.
Jay shot glass at Alana. Kari was goading her guy on. She thought he was cool. Kari was so stoned she had no idea what he was doing. She saw Alana run down to the beach and tried to trip her. Big mistake. Alana belted her with figs. She fell on her fat butt.
Meanwhile, Jay was ready to fire broken glass at Alana’s face. He wanted to see her black lipstick and eyeliner turn red and blood flow all over her Joy Divions top and shorts. Glass exploded from Jay’s fingers. Alana saw it coming, shot Malbec at it, and knocked it back into Jay. Guess who turned blood red?
Jerry and Anat went out for a walk. Anat was feeling good. She was having a healthy pregnancy. She is a little older. Her main concern was using her arsenal of dried fruit before the baby was born. She didn’t want to make crazy movements that could harm her future child.
She knew Jay was out there. Jerry’s biological mom, Diane, was cleaning herself up. She knew Jerry was no longer hers. She knew she should have never married Jay. She was in a bad spot several years ago. She liked him and got hooked on his alcohol and drug-fused lifestyle. She wasn’t innocent. She tried plenty of drugs on her own and with friends. But she was more controlled than Jay. He was utterly out of control. Jerry knew Jay was his dad. They fought in Central Park. He had no real memories of Diane. Remember, he was abandoned when he was three. He spent the first few years of his life being abused. When he got to the child center, he pushed his parents out of his mind.
Anat and Jerry were strolling down Third Avenue in the nineties. All was calm. Diane walked by and noticed the two of them. Jerry gazed at her. He made some connections. Tightly, he squeezed Anat’s hand. Anat remembered the battles she had with her and Jay. She was easy to defeat. She has no powers. Jerry was getting ready to launch his olives at Diane. But he wasn’t sure why. Anat pushed him across the street.
Diane wept. She knew she had no business being his mom. She was doing well in her rehab program and hoped to start over. It was a long way off. But doable.
Meanwhile, Jay was around the corner. Jerry heard him on his iPhone. Their eyes met. Jay was still embarrassed that his then five-year-old son beat him. It was a glass v. olives fight. Jay shot glass at Anat. Jerry jumped in front of it and knocked it down with green olives. Black olives smacked Jay in the head. Anat did not want the two to fight. She didn’t want this to get out of control. She took a deep breath and showered Jay with raisins and dates. Jay tried to fight back with jagged glass. He missed.
Anat and Jerry felt they had done enough damage and walked into Brooks Brothers. Anat had Jerry try on some clothes while wondering if the baby inside her watched this episode and was figuring out his or her powers.
After their fight with the gunman, the two raced home, hoping to watch the ball drop. They missed it. Oh well. They didn’t care much. They did their traditional thing, played “New Year’s Day,” and went to sleep listening to Leonard Cohen.
They got up and debated doing the Coney Island Polar Bear Plunge the following day. They were pissed with the weather. So, they decided to stay home and chill. Tzipora called to wish Alana a happy new year. She and Marc’s ex, Jen, are still some of the very few people who know about their pals superpowers. Tzipora was in the bar when Alana debuted hers against some dumb jock who was getting fresh with Alana and her girlfriends. Tzipora’s new marriage is going great. Alana still had baked in her mind when she unleashed her wine and ran out of the bar to avoid getting caught on social media. The truth is Alana debuted them against Marc. But that was in one of their usual fights. They were in their breakup mode. The time in the bar with Tzipora and the other women was the first time she used them to save someone. She gained them in Israel and tested them there. But she was a novice then. Alana remembers Tzipora following her, and they spent the night together. At that time, Marc was on and off with Jen. He did save her a few times. Alana tried to take her out. Then Anat was beginning to use her powers and going after all. That is until she saved and adopted Jerry.
Jay was hungover from his New Year’s Eve celebrations. He was in a club all night. He got into a few fights and reigned with his glass firing. Blood was everywhere. As usual, he evaded the NYPD.
Marc went to buy bagels for Alana. She decided to get out of bed and turn on the TV. Television was new to them. They just got a new one. Marc had an old TV from 1998 or so. He only watched his beloved Yankees and Bloomberg News. En route to the bagel store, he saw Jay stumbling down the block. The two’s eyes locked. Jay tried to shoot Marc with glass. As he fired, he fell backward and landed on his head. Marc fired away barley and drenched him in honey. Marc texts Alana and Anat about this episode. Anat was happy that Jerry’s biological dad was on the floor again. She wonders what, if any, powers her new child would have when it is born. Dan came in with flowers for his wife and some donuts for Jerry.
Marc and Alana sat in Marc’s apartment listening to an 80s mix. The Talking Heads were now playing. All of their friends were now married with kids. Newlywed Anat, who was their sworn enemy a short time ago, is now one of their best buddies. How a new enemy can make an old one’s a best friend is amazing. Anat was now six months pregnant. She is hoping for a girl. But would be happy with whatever Hashem brings her.
Anat was having a quiet New Year’s Eve gathering with Dan’s family at her place. Marc and Alana were invited. But as usual, they stayed home on New Year’s Eve. Due to the world situation, no one wanted to celebrate.
Marc and Alana chowed down on burgers and Wise chips. They had some Stella. Marc always thought Stella was his best girl. She never let him down. He teased Alana about that all the time. She would beat him. He loved it.
It was about 11:30. Alana’s and Marc’s lips were locked. Bauhaus was cranking. They wanted to tear off their black clothes and play. They heard screams. They figured it was the holiday revelers. They looked at the window and saw some madman running around with a gun. They kissed, got their coats, and raced outside.
They stood on Queens Boulevard and saw the gun-toting loon firing away. The two of them never faced gunfire. They held hands and raced toward the gunman. The gunman fired at the two. They flipped over and got out of harm’s way. Marc shot honey; Alana unloaded wine like the Emperor wields Force lightning. The gunman was hit. But he kept firing. A bullet grazed Marc’s thigh. He was slightly bleeding. Alana looked at him. A tear fell from her eye. Marc was now in a rage. Alana shot apples. The gunman was hit right in the head. Marc drenched him with honey. Pomegranates went flying. The gunman took another in the head and now was shot in the shoulders and knees. He fell to the ground. Alana walked up to him and kicked the gun out of his hand. The whole neighborhood was stunned. The NYPD was en route. Marc tied up the loon in honey. The two lovers fled the scene. They knew eventually they’d be exposed.
Thursday, November 2, Staten Island scouting was hit hard. No all of scouting was hit hard. We lost Mr. Harty. Francis J. Harty was his full name. Mr. H. to most of us. The entire scouting community feels the weight of his loss. He was a scoutmaster for a few decades, Aquehongian Lodge #112’s (112) advisor for five years, Vigil Honor (Bear Lover was his name. I named him), Silver Beaver, and more. There is not enough space in the Grand Canyon to list everything he did and how many lives he influenced.
A few months ago, I was in Alpine Scout Camp for Kintecoying Lodge #4’s (K4) spring meeting. K4 is the merger of the five borough legacy lodges. I miss my 112. My memories of it, many shaped by Mr. H., will live in my vaulted aisles of memory forever, back to Alpine. I was walking along the trails by the dining hall and taking a few pictures. I noticed garbage on the trail. Some water bottles and candy wrappers were on the floor in the middle of our precious woods. Disgusting. I picked everything up and tossed it in the trash can, which was not far from where the trash was thrown. It brought back memories of walking the Camporee Field and trails in William H. Pouch Camp, Staten Island, NY, with Mr. H. Every time he saw trash on the floor, he would pick it up. Sometimes, he may have carried a plastic bag from the local supermarket just to stow away the garbage defacing our precious woods. I mentioned it to a buddy who was a member of Troop 8, the troop Mr. H led for most of his scout life.
Thanks to him, dozens of boys soared to the rank of Eagle, and a few became chief or officers in 112. The number of people called to the Vigil was above average.
My time as lodge chief when he the advisor was terrific. I am now thinking of when we produced our lodge’s newsletter. It was a team effort. My committee chairs mailed or handed me their type reports. No email, social media, or texts back then. Simpler times. I sat on my Atari 600XL and typed everything into a newsletter. Then I gave it to Mr. H. He got someone to run off about 200 copies. A few of us gathered at his house and ate the world’s best chocolate chip cookies baked by his wife, Mrs. Betty Harty. Her Vigil name is Busy Baker. No one bakes like she does. We stapled, folded, and labeled the newsletters. When we were done our trusted advisor would get them over to Mr. George Abdou, another great member of our scouting community, who worked at the Manor Road Post Office. George made sure they were mailed out to our membership. It was a great night of true scout spirit. We may have had to suffer by having a Mets game on TV. But nothing was better than working together—one of the things he made us do.
I remember when we did the “Hernia Patrol” weekend up at Ten Mile River Scout Camps. He decided the lodge should work the weekend and go on a canoe trip. He wanted us to work hard and have fun. A bunch of us youth went up for a few days. We worked hard. Everyone but I worked to get Camp Aquehonga ready for the summer.
Me? I went to Kunatah and worked on the docks at Rock Lake. I was told not to jump in when we finished working. Did I listen? I will let you decide. Then I took a hike to Chappy, Picture Window, and Indian Cliffs. I returned to the rest of the gang, and we had a great BBQ and hung out all night. Bright and early the following day, we paddled the Delaware. Michael Poller was in my canoe. Mr. H. paddled solo and watched us all. We jumped into his Jimmy (remember those cars) and returned to Staten Island—another successful work and fellowship weekend.
As I moved into the adult phase of my scout life, he was there. He made sure I made the transition. He did that for hundreds of Staten Island’s scouts, and we all miss you. But we will continue to be active and help the next youth group. We know you want that. You will always be in our minds as we hike the easy and challenging trails. Because of what we learned under his leadership, we will complete the rugged trails and be stronger.
Most readers know I am an Eagle Scout. Many likely know the Scout Motto is “Be Prepared.” The meaning of this takes on many definitions. The more formal, as written by our founder in the Boy Scout Handbook, is you are always in a state of readiness in mind and body to do your duty. Of course, being prepared can also mean you have the tools you need to do your duty.
One of the tools needed, whether in scouts or anywhere else, is a good pair of boots. No, this story will not be about the Boot. That’s an inside joke. It will be about the importance of protecting your feet. I have owned a few pairs of Timberlands. I currently own the classic boot and a more recreational pair. Those boots are still waterproof and do their job. Of course, I have my Docs. I love them, too.
A few years ago, I spent about two weeks in Iceland. The weather was great. We did lots of hiking; the freshly caught salmon and cod were “lish,” another inside joke meaning delicious. The weather was typical Icelandic. It was warm, and suddenly it started to rain, snow, or hail. I was on many trails. Some people were wearing sneakers. Not I. I had my trusted boots. My feet stayed dry the whole time. At one point, I thought they were wet. That is not the case. My feet were a little sweaty. A quick boot sock adjustment cured it all. Those in sneakers were not happy.
I often take pictures of the Coney Island Polar Bears. One day, I hope to go in. One of them has told me I should. She said it is exhilarating. I often walk right into the water in, yes, you guessed it, my boots. As usual, my feet stay dry. I only went a little deeper than the length of the Timberlands.
I spent about two weeks in the Republic of and Northern Ireland a few weeks ago. Wonderful place. I highly recommend it. A co-worker did a similar trip two weeks before I did. She said to make sure you have appropriate footwear. I flew out in my boots and wore them nonstop. I had my Skechers sneakers in my suitcase. I put them on at night when we finish our day trips. Many were beautiful hikes along the spectacular Irish countryside. We had periods of mist and rain. Some people were in sandals or sneakers. Were they happy? No, their feet were soaked. One morning, we didn’t have any significant hikes planned. I was up at the crack of dawn. I always am. It was one of the days we had a later start. Some people chose to sleep in. Not I. I walked and walked in my sneakers. I saw a lighthouse. The road was dry. The path of the building was wet. About 20 minutes into my walk, my feet were drenched through my socks. I never made it to the lighthouse—no big deal. I saw many. I returned to the hotel and changed into my Timberlands with fresh boot socks.
Iceland and Ireland have unique hand-knit wool products. In both nations, I purchased several pairs of socks. Nothing beats them on a cold, wet day. Since I came home from Dublin, we’ve had heavy rain. You know the drill.
Well, it’s time for a hike. See you on the trails.
Mitchell's thoughts, photos, etc. 