Pickle Arm

The exhausting day of camp counseling winded down as any other. Consenting to piggyback rides and lunging at children around every corner, trying to prevent the one little boy from mauling the other drained even the most strapping of teenagers. After putting the kids to bed, counselors would steal out of their respective cabins and run to the shower house to prepare themselves for bed.

“Meg!” Maggie whispered loudly at her friend before her. “This is our chance!”

“For what?” Meg murmured softly, clearly not understanding Maggie’s idea.

“To get Benn and Nathaniel back!” exulted Maggie.

The reference given was the only information needed. Immediately, the two girls slinked off nonchalantly behind the shower house. Adrenaline pumped rapidly through their blood streams, influencing the girls’ ability to keep quiet. Stifling giggles, they listened intently to the voices wafting across the yard. There they were – unmistakable among the hum of the woods surrounding the camp. Maggie clutched Meg’s arm, signaling to wait for it….wait for it…

The duo was about to turn the corner Maggie smiled the cue and the girls pounced, jumping before the boys and releasing muted hollers. Nathaniel jolted and issued a gasped while Benn’s shriek morphed into laughter. Meg and Maggie nailed their over the head high five.

“We scared you so bad!” Meg beamed her victory.

“I was surprised,” Nathaniel admitted, “but the best part was Benn’s little girl squeal!”

“You both were petrified,” stated Maggie adamantly. “The expressions on your faces were priceless.”

They all shared a laugh, knowing that Benn usually overreacted.

Just then, Mr. Charles, Benn’s dad, poked his head out the dining hall door. “Keep it down out there,” he warned good-naturedly.

The foursome quieted and Mr. Charles returned to his solitude.

“We should probably get ready for bed,” Maggie said, motioning toward the screen door that led to the bathrooms and showers.

“Are you two coming tonight?” asked Nathaniel mysteriously.

“To what?” inquired Meg.

Benn and Nathaniel smiled at each other. “Just a little get together in the dining hall.”

The girls shared thoughts and then acceded. They rushed to complete bedtime preparations and land in the dining hall just in time.

They settled with the other counselors on the handmade wooden benches as everyone gave a half hearted effort to socialize. Within half an hour, eyes faded and shoulders began to droop.

“Why don’t you all turn in,” Mr. Charles suggested.

“We came to hear a story,” Nathaniel reminded sleepily.

“One story. Then you all go to bed,” consented Mr. Charles.

They all were swift to comply with the proposal.

“Once there was a farmer who lived out in the country on an enormous piece of land. And his land bordered a camp – much like this one – where camps were held in the summer and then all kinds of retreats went on during the fall and winter.

“Now, the camp owners warned everyone who stepped foot on the camp grounds not to wander off onto the farmers land because he was grouchy and not a friendly sort and they didn’t want any trouble with the man. On one of these retreats for teenagers – much like yourselves – four kids didn’t heed the warning and went exploring in the woods and onto the farmer’s land.

“As they continued walking in the field, they came up on the farmer. Now his back was turned to them at first. He was working on some piece of farming machinery and when he looked over his shoulder, the group of teenagers startled him. Because they had surprised him, his hand and arm were caught in the machine and they were crushed.
“The kids ran for help and the man was taken to the hospital. But there wasn’t anything that could be done to salvage the area from his elbow down. The doctors suggested amputation before gangrene set in, but the old man refused. He figured what kind of farmer has only one hand?

“Well, sure enough, gangrene set in and in a vain attempt, the old man stuck his arm in vinegar – to try and cure the gangrene. It was extremely painful, but it didn’t kill the gangrene. Soon, the infection was killing him. And with his last breath he told the nurse, ‘I will get them back!’”

The counselors, though spent, sat wide-eyed.

“Then what happened,” Maggie finally asked.

“Well, the old man died. His farm was sold, but never developed. And the camp next to him still kept holding sessions. One night, a similar group of teenagers went on a little adventure to explore. Somewhere along the way, the group split up, and two went off in another direction. All of a sudden, the rest of the groups heard screams. One of them cried, ‘It’s Pickle Arm!’ and the group hurried toward the hollers. But when they got to where the screams came from, no one was there.

“The camp sent out search parties, got the police involved, but the pair was never found. But the legend of Pickle Arm is still a reality to those kids who hear their friends yelling for their lives.”

“Is that it?” Benn asked, folding his arms.

“Well, there have been similar occurrences with the same results. No one is ever found. People just disappear.”

The counselors sat quietly, possibly because of lack of sleep, mostly because of shock.

“Alright,” Mr. Charles perked up. “Time for bed.”

When they left the dining hall, rain was washing steadily through the air.

“Lovely,” Maggie muttered as she and Meg rushed back to their cabin.

“You girls be careful,” Nathaniel had warned teasingly.

“Yeah, you don’t want Pickle Arm to snatch you!” added Benn.

The girls had rolled their eyes at the boys attempt to spook them.

During the night, the rain picked up and became a thunderstorm. Loud crashes brought wind, picking at the loosely closed shudders and chilling the girls in bed.

“Maggie,” Meg whispered loudly. “Shine this flashlight for me. I’m going out to shut the shudders."

Groggily, Maggie pointed the light out the windows and realized she had to go to the bathroom.

“Meg!” she whispered back, when Meg came in from the rain, “Let’s go to the bathroom.”

Grabbing the umbrella, the girls worked their way outside the cabin and tried to dart to the shower houses.

Somewhere along the flooded path, Meg took off running, holding tight to their mobile shelter as she went. Maggie struggled along, shoes slipping off. One was caught in the mud and she stepped out of it, but kept her speed to the destination.

“I lost my shoe!” Maggie exclaimed as she stared at her drenched self in the mirror over the sink.

After taking care of business, the duo started back – calmly this time. Maggie found her shoe as it was floating across the walk.

“We better hurry!” Maggie said as she stuck her shoe back on. “Pickle Arm might attack!”

The following day came with its usual responsibilities.

“Did you put my towel back on the line?” Meg asked Maggie.

“Maggie glanced back on the clothes line. The storm from the night before had blown all the girls’ bathing suits and towels – defeating the purpose of drying on the line. She shook her head in the negative.

At morning meeting, Maggie marched over to Benn and Nathaniel. “Did you mess with our clothes on the line?”

They solemnly said no.

“Maybe it was Pickle Arm,” Mr. Charles interjected comically.

This remark reminded the girls of their ridiculous escapade from the night before. Maggie recounted the story with animation and discovered that many times humor is found on by those who experienced the situation. From that moment on, however, if there was no answer to a question, the common response was, “Pickle Arm.”

“Who picked up my plate?” Meg asked.

“Pickle Arm,” Benn replied with a shrug.

“What happened to that puppet?” asked Nathaniel frantically.

“Pickle Arm,” Maggie said nonchalantly.

“You had ham for breakfast?” Benn questioned in disbelief once. “All I had was French toast!”

The rest of the counselors shared looks and stated, “Pickle Arm.”

On the last night of camp, Mr. Charles planned a game for all the campers. “We’re looking for volunteers to hid for
Lion Hunt. A girl and a boy.”

Every counselor was eager to hide but Mr. Charles selected Maggie and Nathaniel.

“Where should we hide?” Maggie asked.

“I don’t think we should hide together. Otherwise, the game will end faster,” said Nathaniel.

“Alright,” Maggie said and departed to find the ideal hiding post.

When the campers and remaining counselors were released, they readily found Nathaniel on the trail through the woods. The next thirty minutes was spent searching for Maggie.

“Did she tell you where she was hiding?” Meg questioned Nathaniel.

“She didn’t say,” replied Nathaniel. “I didn’t think she would hide to make it too hard.”

“Well, it’s getting dark,” Meg reasoned. “She’ll come back soon enough.

“Where’s Benn?” Nathaniel’s brow furrowed.

“Probably with his campers.”

That evening, the campers were put to bed a bit late because of the end of camp festivities.

“Where in the world is Maggie?” Meg wondered, frustrated and concerned.

Nathaniel’s statement was even more urgent. “Now, I can’t find Benn.”

“What? This is ridiculous. Why would they run off like this?”

“I’m not so sure they did.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Benn disappeared while we were looking for Maggie.”

“So, let’s go back to the last place we saw him with us,” suggested Meg.

“In the dark?”

“Well, what else would you suggest?”

Nathaniel conceded reluctantly.

The two trekked into the woods along the trail on which they played Lion Hunt.

“This is where I remember being with him last,” Nathaniel stated.

“Okay.” Meg looked around. “Then let’s look back there.”

The duo walked about ten feet apart, shining their flashlights into the thick of the woods.

The wind passed and Meg shivered – but not because of the cold. “Do you really think we ought to do this?”

“What else would you suggest?” mimicked Nathaniel.

Rolling her eyes, Meg returned to her search. “Mr. Charles will be wondering where we are,” tried Meg a second time.

“He’s probably busy packing up,” Nathaniel countered.

“We’ll never find them,” exclaimed Meg finally.

“Look,” Nathaniel said, turning toward her, “you were the one who drug me out here while it’s dark so, please, stick to
your guns.”

Nathaniel suddenly went silent and covered the beam of light. Meg followed in suit. There was a patter of running in
the distance –coming toward them.

Nathaniel crept up behind a tree and bent one of the low, green branches back, holding it there. Meg noticed there were two pairs of frightened feet. When she shone the light, Nathaniel relinquished the empowered branch on the runaways.

The two were knocked to the ground.

“Maggie? Benn?” Nathaniel asked. “Where have you been?” What were you running from?”

To each question, they replied with an exhausted pant. Maggie tensed and placed a finger over her mouth to signal a universal silence.

Another pair of feet was crackling along the same path.

Benn scrambled. “Pickle Arm!”

Immediately, the four took off – booking it to the broken path. With Meg and Nathaniel in front, they didn’t realize when they lost Maggie and Benn. Soon, they only recognized their own footsteps.

“Where’d they go?” Nathaniel asked.

“I have no clue.”

“We have to go back for them,” started Nathaniel.

“How? We dropped our flash lights way back there.”

“Don’t ask me all the hard questions!”

Silence descended as each debated solutions internally.

Suddenly, Meg felt a hot breath on her neck. She inched away. It followed.

“Nathaniel?” she said, nervous.

“Yeah?” he sounded equally unsure.

In tandem, Benn and Maggie released frightful cries. Meg and Nathaniel shrieked too, until they understood the joke.
Shaken, but sharing a laugh, the four wandered back to the main camp site.

“That was so mean, you two!” exclaimed Meg.

“How did you even have time to communicate when we were running from…” Nathaniel froze.

The fifth pair of footsteps resounded behind them a second time. Nathaniel bravely directed the beam toward the sound.

Mr. Charles let out a pathetic whoop, then shrugged. “I tried,” he explained to Maggie and Benn.

The expressions on Nathaniel and Meg’s faces were enough to send Benn and Maggie into uproarious laughter.

“You knew about this?” asked the incredulous Meg.

“We planned it,” Maggie said proudly.

“Did you actually think you were being chased by Pickle Arm?” Benn asked, the guffawed louder.

“You were in on this too?” Nathaniel asked Mr. Charles skeptically.

“I figured it was a harmless joke.”
“Harmless joke? You almost gave us a heart attack!” exclaimed Meg.

After bantering further, Mr. Charles insisted the counselors return to their cabins. The four embarked down the trail back to the camp, perpetuating their exclusive joke of Pickle Arm, while Mr. Charles turned to the trees and issued a thumbs-up to a disfigured shadow.