Kyle called the meeting back into order and we stood at attention. All of us except Sawyer. He kept looking around and making wisecrack comments. He was deliberately trying to disrupt the meeting again. Every time he made a noise or remark, he would look around to see what kind of reaction he would get.  

 Burnside left his place in line, slowly walked up behind Sawyer and whispered in his ear:  

“Knock it off. Your Sr. Patrol Leader is speaking.”  

I tell this scared the crap out of Sawyer. It scared me too. I thought Burnside was on our side? 

“Listen up!” Kyle barked. “Since we interrupted at the beginning of the meeting, our schedule is too far behind. So, we will not have individual patrol meetings tonight and we will not have instruction or recreation time. Instead, we will go right into service hours.”  

The entire troop groaned. I don’t know why anyone was surprised. Of course, Kyle was going to cut recreation time. He just doesn’t know how to have fun. He can’t control you if you’re having fun.  

The following patrols will focus on cleaning the interior of this hall, including wiping the corners for spider webs, sweeping and moping the floors and cleaning all white board and chalk boards: The Storm Troopers, The Green Brigade and the Golden Arrows.”  

The three patrols broke out of line and went to the custodial closet to get their brooms and mops.  

Kyle continued: “The next three patrols will walk a trash sweep line around the outdoor grounds.”

If you haven’t heard of it before, a trash sweep line is where all the scouts assigned stand shoulder to shoulder and walk in a straight line across an assigned area. When they find a pice of trash, the stop and pick it up. I get it, we want to keep the place clean. But a trash sweep line is a total power trip for a patrol leader. They get to define when a space is clean enough. Kyle will keep those scouts marching back and fort all night just because he’s a cruel prick. That’s his idea of leadership.
That left just us. Standing all alone.   

“The remaining patrol…” 

Kyle looked directly at us and started to smirk. 

“Patrol boxes clean up duty! All five boxes.” 

The entire troop groaned and then started to laugh. They knew this was the worst job a scout was assigned.  

When a scouting troop goes out on an adventure, usually camping, each individual patrol is assigned a patrol box. This box, just a big storage bin, is supposed to hold everything a patrol will need on a weekend camp trip; pots, pans, bowls, mixing utensils, a camp stove, fuel, cleaning supplies forks and knives. In our troop, it should even have a tent that the patrol can use. This helps the younger kids, or kids who can’t afford a tent of their own, have something to use until they can get their own gear, if they want it.  

But here’s the problem, NOBODY takes care of these boxes. The troop is supposed to have a Quartermaster that takes care of all of the troop equipment. If you want to rank up, you have to hold a position of responsibility and do the job. Our troop has a Quartermaster, but he’s one of Kyle’s suck up goons. So, he never does the job. And if Kyle tells the Quartermaster to do something, they just ignore him. Then Kyle gets mad and takes it out on someone like us that can’t push back. 

But in our troop the older kids don’t do crap to take care of this stuff. When they come home from a camping trip, they just stuff the gear and the tent back in the box and stuff it back on this storage shelf. Those spoiled brats aren’t going to do it. And their parents aren’t going to make them. They consider cleaning beneath them. So, the boxes just sit there stewing in their own filth. Dirty pans get crusty with old food that hasn’t been scrapped off. Remnants of old hot dog buns fall to the bottom and turn moldy. Dirty dishes, utensils and moldy cheese just sit in there and turn rank.  

And the tents get worse. They are just rolled up and tossed in. So, by the time we get to clean them every gum wrapper, melted candy bar, smelly underwear, dirty socks, stay in the box and make the tent permanently rank. To make matters worse, all of the rope guidelines get fully tangled and worn.  
“He can’t do that. Why do we get the dirtiest job?” We protested to Burnside.  

“Yes. He can do it. He’s Sr. Patrol Leader.” Burnside told us.   

“Fuck that. I’m not doing it.” Sawyer protested.  

“And if he’s not, I’m not.” Arnaub chimed in.  

“Same here.” Alex protested  

“Yes. You’re all doing it. And you’re going to do it well.” Burnside looked straight at us. He was dead serious. And again, it was scary. “Let’s go. Grab the equipment and let’s get to work.” Why the hell was Burnside taking Kyle’s side? Wasn’t he here to protect us from this bullshit? What gives? Nothing’s changed. 

We each grabbed a patrol box, five in total, from the equipment room and headed to a side kitchen attached to the meeting hall. We could lay out everything on the big stainless steel tables and work on our own. At least in here we’d be out if Kyle’s sight and not be hassled. Once we all got in the kitchen work area we just stood around. Nobody wanted to do this job. And we’re all a little pissed that Burnside didn’t stick up for us and get us out of it.   

“Ok, gentlemen, what’s your plan? Who wants to lead this project?” Burnside asked.  

“None of us.” Sawyer snapped back.  

“Too bad” Burnside snapped back. “We’ve got a job to do, now let’s get down to it.”  

“We can start by setting up the tents outside. ” Adam volunteered. We can also use this kitchen. There was a good sized industrial kitchen off our mean meeting hall. He pointed to a set of industrial kitchen sinks. Next to the sinks was a a side door in the kitchen that led outside to a small lawn courtyard we can use. “Let’ get the eating tools in the sink and let them soak while we tackle the tents.” 

“Good man. That’s the right attitude.” Burnside said.  

Adam took the lids off each storage bin and our worst fears came true. The smell was overwhelming, a mix of rotten food, spicy chili, mold and the smell of 5 boys farting and spreading their B.O. all over the tent for two days straight. Then they crammed the tent into the box and let it fester for the next guy. And we’re the next guy. Assholes. 

“I don’t get it man. I thought we were here to have fun. Before you came, we were the kids nobody wanted. We’re always getting assigned the crap jobs. Now you’re here, and guess what, we still get the crap jobs! I thought you were going to get us out of this crap.” Sawyer protested.  

Burnside looked at all of us and just stared us down.
“Is that what you really thought?  

We all nodded.  

“Sorry guys, that’s not why I’m here. If that’s what you want, I’m not the right guy for the job. And to be 100% straight with you, what you’re looking for sucks.”  

“What are you talking about?” I was seriously confused.   

“Let’s be clear, with me here, I’m going to make you work harder. I’m going to make you be more disciplined. I’m going to push you to do more, do it faster, and better than you’ve ever done yourselves. I’m not going to let you guys turn into one of those guys that thinks this (as he pointed to the trashed patrol boxes) is acceptable. I don’t care if the other guys are bigger, smarter, have more money, have more influential parents THIS is a bad job. And I and not going to let you do a bad job. If I tell you to do something, you do it. No push back. That’s the rule. Understand?”  

“I don’t get it. How’s that any different than what Kyle is doing?” Arnaub asked.  

“It’s simple. With that kid in there and his mom, it’s clear, cruelty is the point. He thinks leadership has the power to give you tough jobs. He thinks leadership is the right to bully. He thinks that makes him tough. He looks at leadership as a way to fuck with others. And he’s very wrong. Yeah, he’s going to give you the tough jobs. And yeah, he’s hoping you’re going to do exactly what you’re doing right now, piss and moan and not do the job. He wants to either break you or make you quit. And if you do that, you’ll prove him right. He’ll be able to tell the Scoutmaster and the rest of the troop that you are nothing more than a bunch of jack offs. Are you a bunch of jack offs?”  

Nobody answered. We all just stood there and looked at him. I just held my head down and looked at the ground.  

“We just thought it would be more fun. We saw the photos in the photo album. You, Robies’s dad, all your friends. We want it to be like that” Alex admitted.  

“Ok let’s get something clear, that photo album is great. But that’s not the whole story. We were able to kick back, have a good time and yes even break a few rules, because we knew our shit. We put in the work, from setting up campsites, to leading hikes to service hours. Yes. We even handled the crap jobs. But we worked. And we did it well, no matter what the job was. The celebrations you see in those pictures are celebrating the end of a good day filled with good work. And the other patrols saw it and knew it. That’s why they couldn’t touch us. Yeah, we were unconventional. Yeah, we pissed a lot of people off. Yeah, we annoyed those who couldn’t handle change. But we put in the work. That made us the go-to guys to get something done.  I’ll take that any day.”  

And then Burnside turned to me and pointed his big index finger right in my chest. He lowered his voice and growled right in my ear. “And your dad was freaking GREAT at what he did. Whatever he put his mind to, he put in the work to be the best he could be at it.”  

“I have my own business. And I even do crappy jobs that I don’t want to. I still clean the bathrooms and sweep the floors. But that’s what makes the difference between someone who’s a success and someone who’s a jerk off. So, I’ll ask you again, are you a bunch of jack offs?”  

I raised my head up and looked Burnside right in the eye. “No.”  

I walked over to the large kitchen sinks, turned on the hot water and started filling them. I found a bottle of dish soap and added a little to each sink.  

One by one the other guys went to one of the storage bins and removed it’s lid. What we saw in there was disgusting. The smell was the first thing that hit us. These things haven’t been used since the last troop camp trip. That was just before school started about two months ago. All of us gagged and almost heaved at the smell.  

The patrol boxes weren’t even put back together properly. Each box is supposed to have a tent, cooking utensils, pots, pans a camp stove and other items. But all of the tents were smashed into one box, all of the dishes were thrown into another box. All of the Jet Boil and camp stoves were thrown in to any box they could fit into. Even the mess kits were trashed. There were still chunks of food stuck the plates. Everything was starting to grow mold. 

In the first box, all of the tents were twisted up and thrown in. Nobody even took the time to at least fold them. All of the guide ropes were twisted and knotted together. It was like one massive ball of tent and guide ropes.  

“I’ll start untangling these outside.” Adam volunteered.  

“I’ll help.” Arnaub jumped in. “I’ll find the poles for each tent and get them fixed up. The two headed out the back kitchen door with the tangled mess. Outside there was a small courtyard of grass where they could lay out each tent, set it up and let them air out.  

The camp stoves we set on the large stainless steel table and started to clean them by hand. These were in just as bad shape as the mess kits. They were coated in grease and half the knobs and parts were missing. Again, everything was just thrown into the box.  

“I don’t know how we’re going to get these back together.” Sawyer was confused. 

“There’s five stoves and a pile of parts. How do we figure out how to put this all this stuff together?” 

“You got this.” Burnside chimed in. 

“There’s five stoves here. What goes where?” I asked. 

“There are five stoves, but you only need to figure it out once. Then you repeat the process four more times.” Burnside advised us.  

“I got it” I said. “Let’s lay every part out across the table. All knobs go here. All grills go here. All of these pipe things here. Gas canisters here.” 

“Good.” Burnside encouraged us. 

We got to work. Sorting everything in piles of similar pieces. Once we got all the piles sorted, we used some bottles of spray kitchen cleaner and paper towels and cleaned each piece. Then we got to work. 

“Where do we start?” I looked at Burnside for help. 

“Think linear.” He said. 

“What the hell does that mean?” Sawyer asked. 

“How does a stove work?” Burnside gave us a clue. “I’m not going to tell you how to do this. That’s not learning anything. Think about why a part needs to be where it belongs. Start at the source.” 

“The source?” Alex asked? 

We stared at the pile of parts.  

“The gas. Each stove needs gas to run. I grabbed one canister of the fuel and put it next to one of the stoves.” 

“Good!” Burnside said. “What’s next?” 

“We have to find a way to connect the gas to the stove, so it goes to these burner things.” Sawyer said. 

“Good. What does that?” Burnside prodded us. 

“This tube? ” Alex asked. 

“Try it.” Burnside prodded us again. 

Each side of the tube had a threaded coupling. We figured out how to attach one end of the hose to the gas canister and found where the other end of the hose connected to the back of the camp stove.  

“Keep going.” Burnside encouraged us.  

From there were able to quickly figure out where the burner grills, temperature knobs and splash guards went, cleaning each piece as it went on. In a few short minutes we had a fully assembled camp stove. And I have to admit, we cleaned it up good.  

“Now test it.” Burnside said. 

“Huh?” Sawyer shrugged.  

“Light it up. You have to see if it works.” Burnside said. He reached in his pocket and pulled out his lighter and slid it across the table at us. “Show me how this works.” 

I picked up the lighter. “OK, let’s give it a shot.” 

Sawyer reached over and turned the valve at the top of the gas canister. We could hear the gas hissing it’s way thought the tube to the stove. I tried lighting a flame on the lighter. But my first try didn’t work. I tried a second time. 

Burnside jumped toward the table yelling. 

“WAIT!” he yelled reaching for the gas canister. But it was too late. I got the lighter to light and moved the flame towards one of the burners on the gas stove.

Burnside grabbed the top of the canister turned the valve and shut off the gas.  

“Sorry boys. That’s my bad. I though you knew how to use one of these things. Lesson number 1. NEVER EVER turn the gas on until you have your flame waiting at the burner. Light your match FIRST and hold it to the burner. THEN turn on the gas slowly.” 

“That could have been a disaster.” Alex said still stunned. 

“But it wasn’t. And it was fucking awesome!” Sawyer exclaimed! 

We all stared at each other in shock. Then all at once we burst into laughter. Yes, it could have been a disaster. But it wasn’t. It was terrifying and hilarious at the same time.  

“Ok.” Burnside said. You’ve got the first one done. Four more to go. Do exactly what you did the first time. But keep out the almost blowing yourself up part.  

We at once got to work. But this time it went much faster. We made it like and assembly line. Each of us handled a specific part to add to the stove. We got those assembled in no time.  

“Now you need to take them apart them.” Burnside instructed us. 

“What? We just got them together!” I protested. 

“Yes. But they need to be stored in their patrol box. They won’t fit fully assembled. Not you need to figure out a way to take them apart and store them to the next patrol can find each part and use it on the next trip. 

 

“Ok” I said. “Let’s go check on Adam and Alex and how they are doing with the tents.” We headed out the back door to the space where they were working. Much to our surprise, they were making progress. That giant ball of knotted up tents was completely gone. All five tents were laying out flat on the grass. Adam was sitting cross legged at the last tent working on one of the guide lines attached to the tent.  

“These guy really made a mess of these tents.” Adam told us. “Every guideline had a different knot. All the lines were tangled together. They were using the wrong knots to hook the guideline to the tent stake. What a mess.” 

“You know your knots?” Burnside asked. 

“Yeah. I have to. My dad is retired Navy. Now he owns a sailboat. I need to know them all.” Adam told us. 

“Good man.” Burnside said. He then turned to me “Remember that.” He told me. 

“How are the poles? Are they usable?” Burnside asked Arnaub. 

“I think I have it sorted out. Each tent gets two long poles and two short poles. Whoever was using these last weren’t using the poles properly. They were just jamming any pole into whatever tent socket to see what worked. A lot of the poles got bent out of shape. I got them all straighten and sorted, one set for each tent. Now we just need to put them up and air them out. Let me show you how it works.” 

Arnaub demonstrated to all of us the proper way the poles were to be instead into each socket. The two long poles crossed over the center of the tent and held up the main portion of the tent. The two smaller poles were used to extend out the rain fly over the doors. He got that ten up in less than five minutes.  

“Now we just need to build the other four. Then we can sweep them out.” Arnaub took the lead. We all pitched in and helped. Two poles cross over the center, tuck the end in the pockets, two small poles extend out the rain fly.

“Great job guys.” Burnside encouraged us.  

“Now we just need to sweep them out and wipe them down. Let’s get all trash out of them. If we each take one tent, we’ll blow through this in no time.” I led the group. 

We each got a small broom and took a tent. Again, these tents were disgusting. Food wrappers, left behind crumbs, bits of mud, leaves and dirt were in each tent. We got to work but as soon as we started, we heard a nasty scream. We all dove out of our tents to see what was the matter. We saw Sawyer diving out of the last tent. 

“Nope! Nope! Nope!” He yelled. “I have my limits. I am not handling that. I’m out of here.” 

“What’s the problem?” Alex asked. 

Sawyer pointed inside the tent. We all gathered around the door to look in.  

“You first.” Alex pushed me. 

“Fuck no.” I pushed back. I’m not going in there. 

“Don’t look at me” Arnaub protested. 

“You’re the Sr. Patrol Leader.” Sawyer pointed at me. “I think it’s your duty. All those in favor of making Robbie go in there, raise your hand.” All of the other guys instantly raised their hands. Even from a distance where Burnside was seeing I saw him raise his hand. 

“I’ll get you guys for this.” I threatened them. 

I took a step to the door of the tent. The other guys, even though they wouldn’t go in, gathered right on my back and peered over my shoulder to see what was inside. As soon as I pulled back the tent door flap, I smelled how rancid it was. I held my nose and slowly peered in. We all peered in. And we saw the foulest sight that singed itself into my brain. I will never be
can erase that image from my mind for as long as I live.

 “OK. That’s no big deal.” I said to the others. “I’ll just get a pair of gloves and a plastic bag and scoop it in.” But then we saw it. And then we realized what it really was. And we all saw it at the same time. And the horror filled all of us at the same time. There is the small ray of light beaming into the tent and we saw it.

 

This wasn’t just a pair of underwear that was left behind. This was the worst kind of underwear imaginable. This was underwear that was taken to week- long summer camp. This was underwear worn for several days straight. This was underwear that was worn on a ten mile hike, then worn while canoeing, then worn under a pair of shorts while swimming in a dirty lake, sat in around campfires on an old log or in the dirt. You name it, from horseback riding to rock climbing, these shorts have seen it.  

We all fell back out of the door of the tent in disgust.  

“I’m not grabbing that.” Sawyer exclaimed. 

“Not me.” Alex added 

“Me neither” Arnaub protested 

“Ok here’s what we’ll do.” I said. “Grab two of those brooms. Two of us will reach in and pick it up with the broom handles then just throw it in the trash.”

Adam quickly stood up and got us two brooms. Sawyer took one and I took the other. We positioned ourselves at the opening of the tent and reached in with our broom handles. We were able to pick up the soggy pants and slowly bring them out of the tent. They started to slip off the end of our broom handles. Sawyer started to panic. He must have thought they were going to slide off and hit him. He panicked and flung the tip of his broom handle away from him. The pants went flying. They headed right towards Adam. Adam panicked and the dirty underpants started to land on his shoes.  

“Shit!” Adam yelled. He then kicked wildly sending the pants flying right towards Alex. Alex had a roll of paper towels in his hand, and he swatted them away right towards me. I used my broom to deflect the incoming soggy mess. The pants hit my broom handle and started to wrap around. Then they slowly started to slide down the handle towards my hand. I flung the pants back at Sawyer. He dodged the incoming mess and let it hit the dirt. Sayer picked up a stick and started to try to pick it up. It was anybody’s guess who he was going to fling it at next. But Sawyer stopped. He bent over the offending underpants as if he spotted something.  

“Holy shit! guys, look at this.” He called for us. 

We were all hesitant to go near Sawyer. Knowing him, this was just a trick to get us closer so he could have better shot a flinging it at us.  

“Check this out.” He called for us again. But this time he was able to pick up the pants with his stick. He turned towards us. 

“Whoa!” We all yelled. None of us were taking any chances at who he was going to fling this mess at next. 

“I call time out.” Sawyer said. “You need to see this.”

He held up the filthy underwear dangling from the end of his stick.

“Take a good look. Tell me what you see.” 

We all took one cautious step forward. We still didn’t trust Sawyer. But then Alex was the first to see it and he burst out laughing. Then Arnaub saw it and he started laughing too. Then Adam and I saw it.

Sawyer immediately got a crazy look in his eyes. We knew what he was up to. He had us a close range. He was going to fling that dirty pair of underpants right at us.  

“Run!” I screamed. We all scattered. Sawyer started chasing after us like a mad man. Some poor sap was going to get hit with those pants tonight. We all ran in circles screaming out heads off. Sawyer was like a lone hyena trying to separate one of us from the pack. He circled and dodged and cut us off at every turn. Then his big break came. As I was doubling back trying to get out form his path, I slipped on a lose patch of grass and fell right on my ass. Sawyer had me in his sights. He ran towards me with the evilest grin on his face. We locked eyes. I was a dead man. The others saw what was happening and cringed in horror. Sawyer wound up like a lacrosse player going for the goal and let loose. I just closed my eyes waiting for the most disgusting, smelly, moldy humiliating impact. ….. .  

“What the…?” Sawyer was confused. I opened my eyes and saw Sawyer standing a few feet in front of me. He had the perfect shot. What happened? Then the others burst out laughing. They ran to us. They knew the threat was over. Sawyer and I were still confused. Alex reached us and pointed upward. Then we saw it.  

The underwear left the end of Sawyer’s stick too early. Instead of heading towards me, it shot straight upwards.

Sawyer and the others fell to the ground around me laughing hysterically. There’s no way we’re going to be able to get that down. Those shorts are now a permanent part of the scenery at Queen Anne High School, Seattle Washington. We just laid there laughing, staring up at the evening sky. The sun was setting, so nobody is going to notice it until tomorrow.  

We all just laid on the grass in silence for a few moments. Then it hit me. 

“Damn it.” I said. “Guys, we still have the mess kits to clean and put away.” 

The entire group groaned.  

“Can’t we just leave it” Sawyer complained? 

“No. That’s what the previous group did. That’s what they are expecting us to do. We’ve go 30 minutes until the troop has to form up again. Let’s crank this out.” 

“We’ll take care of the tents. We set them up, we can break them down easily.” Arnaub said and Adam Agreed. 

“Great. We’ll take care of the mess kits. Join us when you have the tents stowed in each patrol box.” Then we headed inside. 

So, it was me, Alex and Sawyer stuck on cleaning the mess kit duty.  

“I’ve got this” Alex said. “This is just like when I was equipment managing the soccer team.” I remembered that was the first time I met Alex. Come to think of it, he was one of the first people I ever met at that school. “All we need to do is run it like an assembly line. I’ll wash.” He stuck his hand in the sink and opened the drain. The sink that was holding all the pieces of the mess kit was slowly starting to drain. I could tell a lot of the food and gross bits that were stuck to the pieces of mess kit had now come loose. 

“How the hell did you just stick your hand in there?” I asked Alex. 

“Hey, when you’re an equipment manager for a high school sports team, you get used to gross shit, dirty towels, dirty uniforms, dirty socks, the occasional jock strap. It’s gross, but we just need to get the job done. Ready? Let’s crank this out.” 

Alex went to work washing each piece of mess kit he could grab. As soon as he scrubbed it, he threw it in the next sink that was filled with clean cold water. That’s where Sawyer was supposed to rinse them clean. 

“If I missed something,” Alex told Sawyer “Toss it back in here.” 

Alex was a possessed mess kit washing machine. He was picking up items, washing them then throwing them into the next sink. It’s like he was challenging Sawyer to keep up. Then it was on. Alex was throwing the mess kit pieces into the water with more and more force. Each item creating a bigger splash than the next. He was deliberately trying to soak Sawyer. Sawyer took the bait and started tossing dishes back into Alex’s sink with more force, trying to splash Alex. Then it was on. The pieces of the mess kit were no longer relevant. Alex turned to Sawyers full sink of cold water, swung his hand down hard and SLAPPED the surface of the water has hard as he could. A massive splash rose out of the sink and hit Sawyer square in the face. Sawyer retaliated by scooping up with his two hands a big handful of water and tossed it right in Alex’s face. Alex then took it to DEFOCN 5. He grabbed the overhead sink hose and pointed right at Sawyer. Sawyer went into full offense and filled a pitcher of water and was poised to toss it at Alex if Alex pulled the trigger. It was a standoff.  

Just then Burnside came in. He was outside helping the others with the tents. He stared at the scene. I couldn’t tell if he was stunned or pissed. The room was silent. Then it happened. I’ve seen it before. Now I can start predicting when it’s going to happen. Burnside’s face got stone cold frozen, staring the scene down. Then it broke. First from the sides of his mouth. They slowly curled up into a sly smile. Then it broke out, that loud obnoxious hyena laugh that I am growing to love.  

“You know you guys are going to have to mop these floors now.” He laughed.

“Guys, we only have 20 more minutes until they make us regroup. We need to get this done.” I tried to break the ice. 

“Truce?” Sawyer offered. 

“Truce” Alex accepted. 

“You first.” Sawyer said motioning for him to put the faucet hose down. 

“No way, you first.” Alex didn’t trust him. Smart man. 

“On three.” Sawyer countered. 

“Deal.” 

One….Two…. three.” Both dropped their weapons and hit the dirt just in case the other guy welched on the deal.  

Then Arnaub and Adam came into the kitchen. They were done braking down the tents and string them in the patrol boxes. 

“You guys aren’t done yet? Come on! Let’s go.” Arnaub pushed us.  

“Ok let’s get this done. With 5 we’ll have this done in no time. Assembly line time. I wash, Sawyer rinses, Adam dries, Robbie and Arnaub line up items on the table. Make piles of similar items; big plates, bowl, drinking cup, utensils.” 

With 5 of us working we got the job done in no time. Just a few short minutes. Now we gathered around the large stainless steel table staring at the several piles of assorted mess kit pieces.  

“How does it all go together?” Adam asked. 

“Simple.” Alex answered. He went over to the table and started to rearrange the large piles of mess kit parts. “We go from bottom up, largest to smallest. Then he looked up at one of the shelves. He grabbed a large box of oversized plastic food storage bags. “We start at one end and build each kit like an assembly line. Robbie, you start and hand Adam a large plate. Adam, you stack a bowl on the plate and hand it to Arnaub. Arnaub you add the drinking cup and had it off to Sawyer. Sawyer, you hand it off to me and I bag the kit up and stock the patrol boxes. 

We had a plan. We got to work and to our surprise we assembled just shy of 40 complete mess kits in less than 10 minutes. We sealed up each complete patrol box and stacked them up.  

“Form up!” We heard Kyle yell from the next room. 

“Just in time!” I was surprised.  

“OK guys, take them into the hall. Show them that you got the work done.” Burnside urged us.  

We picked up as many patrol boxes as we could and headed into the meeting hall. Immediately I could sense the mood was tense. All of the other patrols were already in their lines.  

“You’re late.” Kyle snapped. “Get in your lines. I bet you didn’t get anything done either.” Kyle started to berate the troop. “That was awful. I expected you to do better. You didn’t get anything done! I expected this place to be perfect.” 

“Get lost.” Someone protested from the back.  

“You didn’t give us any direction.” someone else spoke up. 

“You disappeared when there was work to be done and you didn’t lift a finger to help anywhere. You hid in the back office the whole time.” Others protested. 

“Quiet!” Kyle barked. “I had important work to do planning our next event.” 

We started to stack the patrol boxes against the wall. But the strangest thing happened. Burnside whistled at us. He got our attention. He shook his head to tell us not to stack the boxes there. Then he motioned towards the front of the room. He wanted us to take the boxes up front. We were hesitant.  

“Come on.” Burnside took the lead and encouraged us. He marched us to the front of the room. Kyle saw us approaching and we could see he was going to start yelling at us.

Burnside pointed to an area right next to the Scoutmaster’s office. That’s where we stacked them.

Then we joined the others and got into our lines. Our Scout master, Mr. Miltner came out of his office to watch the announcements.  

“Time for announcements!” Kyle barked. “In two weeks, we will have a camp trip to Olympic state park. This will be a working camp out. We will be training for the all-district Camporee competition. This will be a practice competition. As you know the Camporee competition brings together all Scout troops from our district for a weekend long competition. It is my intention to win that trophy and return this troop to its former glory. Therefore, I am making the decision that only certain scouts that I chose will can compete.”  

The entire troop exploded in protest.  

“That’s not fair!” 

“Who says you get to choose?” 

“We’ve never done it that way in the past!” The entire troop protested. 

“Can he do that?” People started asking and pointing at Mr. Miltner.  

But the funniest thing happened. Our Scoutmaster was distracted. He was lifting the lid of each patrol box and inspecting them. Burnside was standing there right next to the pile of patrol boxes. That why he wanted them to stack them right next to his office! Burnside was constantly speaking under his breath to Mr. Miltner. Then the Scoutmaster looked up from the pile of boxes and looked our way.  

Instantly I saw Kyle and his mom make a straight line directly for the Scoutmaster. They were not happy.  

“We’re going!” the others in my patrol gathered around me, jumping up and down in excitement. “We’re going to compete!” Sawyer exclaimed. 

“No.” I said. “We’re going to win.” 

Then I saw Burnside leaning against the wall, arms crossed, taking in the celebration. We made eye contact, and he gave me a joe-cool thumbs up. The Magnificent 7 is on its way.