On a Balmy Friday afternoon, Mark and the other wrestlers arrived in West Milford.
West Milford was a small sleepy town in New Jersey's Passaic County. It was forty-five minutes away from New York City.
"Man, we're on Macopin Road," said Shawn, his eyes squinting for the 'Welcome to Camp Vacamas' sign. "Where the fuck is this place?"
"Shawn, you have a map," said Mark, who was sitting in the front passenger's seat. "Use the thing."
"I forgot it when we were packing," mumbled Shawn, his face reddening slightly.
Mark made an impatient noise.
"You'd forget your dick if it wasn't attatched to y ou," he said. "Just look for a car lot. Vacamas is across from it."
"Wait," said Bret, "we passed a car lot two miles ago."
"We did?" asked Mark, "damn."
"Hold on tight, fellas," said Shawn. He made a U-Turn so sharp that the others cried out, not expecting the move.
It was no wonder they didn't see Vacamas's entrance. IT was an entrance surrounded by a thicket of trees. The entrance was a dirt trail so narrow, that one who was speeding past (which Shawn had done) wouldn't notice the 'Welcome to Vacamas' sign.
Shawn parked the car in front of the staff's station where four staff members (two women, two men) were waiting outside, dressed in the same getup; Green t-shirts with Camp Vacamas in white lettering and cream colored khaki shorts.
"Sorry we're late," said Curt, who'd reached them first, "We got a little lost because someone didn't pack their map."
He stared pointedly at Shawn before turning back to the four counselors.
"Do you know when the children will be arriving?" he asked.
"They'll be arriving at three," said the counselor furthest right, a young woman with shoulder length cherry pop colored hair and cornflower blue eyes. "We have time to kill. So before we show you guys to your cabin, let us introduce ourselves. My name is Kaitlyn, this is Donna-" she pointed at the other girl, leggy and tawny haired, who waved merrily- "This right here, is Lenny-" a young, muscular, long-haired man also waved-"And Derek, a sinewy, russet skinned man nodded, smiling.
"Nice to meet you all," said Bret as everyone exchanged handshakes. "We look forward to working with you all."
"Likewise," said Kaitlyn, beaming. "Derek is going to show you guys to your cabin. Settle in and meet us back here, we can go over the activity schedule and hang out until the kids arrive."
The four guys followed Derek up a dirt trail with blackberry bushes, leading from the main road. Mark, the tallest of all of them, had to duck to avoid hitting low branches.
"Y'know, it's a real honor to be meeting guys I watch on T.V.," said Derek, "I've been watching wrestling since I was a kid. These kids are lucky. I used to camp here as a teen myself, I wish I had the same opportunities that these kids are getting."
"You're working with us for six weeks," said Mark, "That's definitely a big opportunity. Not many people can say they co-counseled with WWF wrestlers."
"You're right, I didn't think of it that way," said Derek, thoughtfully. "So I have to ask; What's it like working with all those guys like Hulk Hogan?"
"Thrill of a lifetime," said Shawn. "Never met a more swell guy."
Derek missed the sarcasm in Shawn's voice, because he beamed.
They reached their destination, a moderately sized log cabin.
"Here you are guys," said Derek, "I'll leave you guys to change and get settled in. See you later."
"Thanks, Derek," said Curt, as Derek left.
Bret opened the screen mesh door and the four men walked in.
The whole place had the air of not being frequently occupied, but cleaned on a regular basis. There were six beds, three on each side with dressers by each bed. The only other room was a bathroom, which had five shower stalls, which suited them just fine; Shawn had been making a fuss about showering.
The four men changed into attire more appropiate for the warm campy weather. Mark, Bret, and Curt laughed at Shawn's get up; poly mesh tank top and biker shorts.
"Don't get on my fucking case," said Shawn indignantly, "Bret, you look like a bottle of Pepto Bismol, Curt you look like a goddamn yuppie with that striped tank top, and Mark, it looks like someone drank different cans of paint and then vomited on your shorts."
"Maybe so," said Mark, "But I'd rather wear these Jam shorts than those nut chokers you got on."
Bret and Curt laughed as Shawn flipped Mark off.
After they were settled in, the four headed out to the station where Kaitlyn was waiting.
"How'd you guys find the place?" she asked
"Not bad," said Bret.
"Great," said Kaitlyn smiling, "You guys can come inside, we'll go over the lists inside."
Derek, Donna, and Lenny were all sitting in recliners in the lounge, shooting the breeze, Kaitlyn walked past them and lead them to a small office. Or maybe it seemed small to Mark and the guys, because they were so large.
"Here are a list of activities for the kids to do," said Kaitlyn, taking a paper off of the bulletin board, "as you can see, it ranges from rock climbing to arts and crafts. You can figure out what you want to do with them this evening."
The four wrestlers looked at the list.
"These all look interesting," said Bret. "We won't tax them on the first day though. How about we set up a scavenger hunt for them?"
"Great," said Kaitlyn, "I can write out a list of items for each of you guys and Xerox them."
"Sounds good," said Curt.
As Kaitlyn went to the Xerox machine, Mark looked further down the list.
"Arts and crafts," said Mark, 'That my field of expertise. I can do that with the kids."
The other three looked at him.
"What?" he said, "a guy can't be into arts and crafts?"
"Since when were you ever into arts?" asked Curt.
"When I was playing basketball in college, I was working on an arts degree," said Mark, "if a sports career didn't work out, I'd have something to fall back on."
"Thank God your sports career worked out," said Shawn. "Your bonus for having an Arts degree would consist of bringing home extra fries from your job."
"Better than helping a blue haired biddy to her stationwagon, saying, 'paper or plastic' like you would," Mark retorted.
The four wrestlers spent the rest of the afternoon with the counselors, playing Go Fish and dining on New Jersey's best Italian submarines. Everyone got to know a bit about each other. They found out Kaitlyn was a fourth grade teacher in Newark. Lenny was a volunteer firefighter, who was a junior at Seton Hall University, majoring in Physical Therapy. Donna was a dietician in Livingston, and Derek was a computer engineer for a software company in Jersey City.
By three o'clock, the eight of them waited for the bus full of teens to arrive. It wasn't a long wait.
A lime green bus pulled into the parking lot. Little by little, the teens with their belongings poured out of the bus, a bunch of wonder and excitement on their juvenescent faces already.
They were ogling the four wrestlers to no one's surprise.
"Hello, guys," said Kaitlyn, sweetly. Mark could tell she really loved her job of working with youth, "If you'll follow me."
Kaitlyn led them to a large spacious mess hall perched on top of a grassy hill. As they entered there was a man in the kitchen, cleaning the pots. He gave a curt nod and resumed, washing out a particularly dirty pot.
"Everyone grab a chair and make a circle," said Kaitlyn.
There was scraping of chairs and a bit of chatter as everyone took chairs and created a large circle in the middle of the mess hall.
Mark and the other guys finally seperated for the first time and sat with the teens. A few girls were sitting with Shawn, giggling and batting their eyes at him. There was a gawky blond boy sitting on the left of Mark who looked like he wanted to say something to him, but was afraid to. Mark was used to this. Many fans seemed to think he was unapproachable because of his imposing size and stony stares. They would see he was nothing like that soon enough.
After watching Bret and Curt chat animatedly with some campers, Mark took a glance at a black girl on his right. She seemed vaguely familiar. She was at least 5'8 or 5'9, her dark brown hair coming out in long wild curls. Her fawn colored skin hadn't been riddled with zits like most girls her age, which Mark guessed it to be 16. She wasn't smiling like the other teens. She seemed to be lost in her own thoughts. Then it suddenly struck Mark who she was. She was the girl he'd seen attacking the other girl at City As during their presentation.
When the chatter died down, Kaitlyn cleared her throat and said, "Welcome to Camp Vacamas, everyone, we hope you enjoy your visit here. You'll be staying here for six weeks and during that duration, you guys will learn the meaning of teamwork and friendship as well as wildnerness skills. Your bunk mates will be somewhat like your family during this duration, so be mindful and respectful of others. Name calling and fighting will not be tolerated.
"Also, the cabins you will be staying in will be your home, so I ask you to please keep it clean as if it were your own home.
"Over the next six weeks, we're going to do activities ranging from fishing to swimming. Wake up time will be at eight. We eat in the mess hall at all times. Breakfast will be served at eight-thirty, lunch at twelve, and dinner at four-thirty. Lights out will be at ten.
"Now that we've got that out of the way," said Kaitlyn, smiling, "we're going to go around and introduce ourselves. My name is Kaitlyn, and I'm the head counselor."
Everyone except the four wrestlers introduced themselves. They finally got to the girl, who spoke in a clear, but toneless voice.
"My name is Veronica, but I'm not fond of that name, so I liked to be called Ronnie."
"And last, but not least," said Kaitlyn, sounding like a Price is Right Showcase announcer, "these guys are from the World Wrestling Federation, who took time out of their busy schedules to volunteer as counselors. They be the main facilitators of the activities you'll be participating in. Why don't you introduce yourselves, guys?"
"I'm Bret Hart," said Bret.
"On T.V., I'm called Mr. Perfect," said Curt, "but in the real world, I'm Curt."
"I'm Shawn Michaels," said Shawn. The girls nearby pretended to have swooning fits.
"As you know, my character's The Undertaker," said Mark, "but you guys will know me as Mark."
"Now that we're well acquainted," said Kaitlyn, "we'll show you all to your cabins. The boys will follow Derek and Lenny, the girls will follow Donna and myself. Are there any questions?"
A chunky wiry haired kid named Terry raised his hand.
"Are you guys going to teach us wrestling moves?" he asked.
Everyone laughed.
"Yeah, sure," said Mark, "just give us twenty-five hundred dollars, we'll train you right up."
As they got up, Shawn walked over to Mark and said, "Get a load of that Ronnie girl, eh? Better hope she doesn't go all Carrie on everyone."
"Stop it, Shawn," said Mark, looking over at the girl. She was easily the tallest girl. She was taller than most of the boys for that matter. "She probably was just having a bad day that day, that's all."
"I hate to see her on a good day," said Shawn. "She probably could take you down, Mark."
"Shawn," started Mark, "I used to be a bouncer in the toughest bar in Houston, Texas. And a debt collector for loan sharks. Not to mention, I'm 6'8 and over 300 pounds. She wouldn't be able to take me down.
"Yeah, true," said Shawn, "but she can do to you what you can't do to her."
"Oh yeah?" said Mark, "What's that?"
"Hit you in the balls," said Shawn. "No matter how big, strong, or tough you are, once you hit those bad boys, down you go."
Mark couldn't help but laugh with Shawn as they headed back outside.