Welcome to Camp Wannakukka! A special place for fathers and their sons. Camp Wannakukka provides a safe, relaxing environment for men who wish to bond with their young sons in a very unique and permanent way. At Camp Wannakukka, we hope that the bonds forged here will last a lifetime.
Even in paradise, there can be trouble. Theo’s dad can’t find respite from the workload that has followed them to the camp. To pass the time, Theo decided to get back into his old hobby of horseback riding. A trip back from the stables results in an unexpected detour. Theo finds himself in a restricted area reserved for camp employees and their guests. One guest in particular looks very familiar.
And this son has found something else besides horses to ride!
This is a 4,800 word short story and part 5 of a 12-part series.
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Excerpt
This area didn't look like it was for guests. It wasn't gated the way Bunny Burrow or Hawk's Nest was. I didn't see a sign indicating what part of the camp it belonged to.
The cabins were more utilitarian as well. They were nice enough, make no mistake, but nothing as elaborate like Bunny Burrow. Coming up on them, a hunch formed. These looked like employee cabins. It made sense that the employees stayed on the grounds, so of course they would need places to sleep.
The more I thought about it, this was a good thing. Somebody here was bound to know how to get back to Bunny Burrow. Granted, it didn't look like many of the cabins were occupied. Chances were, the employees were busy as hell, but I could let that stop me. At least one of them had to be on break.
Just to be sure, though, I checked my phone to see if this area had better service. “Nothing,” I stated flatly, putting the phone away again.
I didn't relish knocking on every door. Fortunately, the decision of which one to pick was taken out of my hands.
The sun was still bright, even though it was getting later in the day. I wiped the sweat off my forehead, then shielded my eyes. Squinting, I stared along the bowed row of cabins, seeking signs of life.
Instead, my ears perked up. A noise came from one of the cabins nearby. I listened more closely and hear it again, a mixture of a squeal and a grunt.
Curious, I took a few steps closer, moving toward the door. The sounds were rhythmic, like they were being timed. The closer I drew to the cabin, the louder they became, confirming that this was the right place.
Unfortunately, the front door was locked. I jiggled the knob just to be sure. It wouldn't budge an inch.
Whatever was going on wasn't my business. There were other cabins to pick from. Nevertheless, a worry crept into my head. Someone might be hurt or need help. Finding a way inside would be intruding, but it would also confirm whether or not I was right.
I could at least peek through the window, if only for my own peace of mind. A quick glance around the cloth blinds proved nothing. It was hard to see, but I didn't catch any movement or signs of life. Getting annoyed, I began walking the short distance around the cabin, intending to check the back windows next.
“And I just needed directions,” I muttered, grumbling with each step. “How do I get into these messes?”
Coming around the side, I listened again and slowed my steps. The noises were definitely louder from this end. I could make out other sounds as well. A curious thumping accompanied the high-pitched squeals and grunts. I could hear creaking too, like the step on an old staircase. It too was rhythmic, though, keeping the same beat as the other noises.
Just up ahead, a window was open. The blinds had been raised. It was easy to see why I was able to hear so clearly on this end. The sounds were coming from that room.
Just then, I felt a pang of guilt. It didn't take a genius to work out what was going on. Somebody—more than one—was enjoying themselves. Honestly, I should've worked that out before now. Moreover, the last thing they needed was me interrupting them.
I turned to go. My heel dug into the grass as my body pirouetted, facing back the way I came. I could find my own way back. It would take me a while, but Dad would understand.
In mid-step, my body froze. One of the voices in the room with the open window let out a loud yelp. It was followed by soft murmuring. Before I could stop myself, my body turned again.
Both of those voices sounded familiar.