It was only our second day. We had arrived at the Everglades Youth Conservation Camp the day before, in time for a nutritious meal with the campers and our newfound friends, the counselors. We had unpacked our stuff, and met Theo (He had a pickup. He must have spent at least eighty thousand on it. He also had a swamp buggy. It had a CD player. Yup). We were comfortable in our surroundings, as comfortable as we could be under the circumstances, but the next day, terror found a face.

The day started innocently enough. We dragged our groggy bodies out of bed and over to the cafeteria where we had to fight with hordes of youths to keep our places in the breakfast line. After our meal, Janice informed us of what we would be doing that day. Woe should befall me when I heard that they needed volunteers to GO KAYAKING WITH A BUNCH OF KIDS!!! So I raised my hand and got picked and myself, Amelia and Anna jumped in Janice's truck, whereupon we sped down the highway faster than an AmeriCorps member with a pile of free food. When we got to the site the three of us had to sign a waiver ("In case sumptin' happens to y'all, heh heh heh," said the nice lady behind the counter), but soon we were fitted with life preservers and paddles. A short 'introduction to kayaking' course later and we were on the water.

Our duties were simple; follow the kids, keep ourselves interspersed fairly regularly between them, be there if they get hurt, watch out for the temporal vortex, and over all, have fun! I leaped into my kayak, and Anna and Amelia boarded their double, and the whole crew, which also consisted of Janice, four counselors, four or five kayaks of youngsters and a ranger of sorts. We first paddled along a canal, getting the hang of the boats, and soon we were deeply ensconced in the wild bay of McArthur Park (Which was frightening in the dark). We moved ourselves across the bay to Munion island, where we took a brief pause to hear the history. The island had used to be a health spa, where a man named Munion had set up camp. Apparently, he had created a magic drink, which would heal all that ailed you. On top of that, he had a fountain of youth that people could go swimming in. His drink could only be bought and consumed on the island, and the hotel there was mighty expensive. Eventually, someone figured out why everyone who had his drink felt better: it was extremely alcoholic. His patrons got so drunk that they couldn't feel what was ailing them anymore. This revelation did nothing to harm his Snake Oil business, however, and it was only a fire which completely destroyed the wooden hotel that drove him out. He didn't own the island, and it's somewhat unclear how he managed to squat there for so long without paying rent (actually, no one owned the island) or anyone complaining. After his hotel was gone, Munion quietly disappeared from public view.

Upon hearing this tale of HORROR AND BETRAYAL, we kayaked over to another island where we took a snack break (granola bars) and a quick swim. We were also sucked through a time portal and sent back to medieval days where we saved the land from hordes of the undead, but that's a different story. Finally, sopping with salt water, we returned to our starting point, across what were now extremely choppy waves (Enough to tip one of the kayaks over and run a couple of others up against the break wall). We cleaned off the kayaks, paddles, and life vests, then got back in the truck and drove back to the camp, our first work day completed.