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Which, yes, it was true, the bulbous head was a bit odd, especially since no one really knows what the actual Tower of Babel looked like.

They call in Lawrence, the Disciple who whittled the sculpture. We have him swear on a King James, but he insists that it’s the Tower of Babel.

"Still," Mr. Garret says, "that's idolatry."

"Please, don't send me back," Lawrence says. Lawrence is an urban youth here at Camp on church scholarship. "Grandma will kill me," Lawrence says.

Mr. Drake suggests that maybe Lawrence could avoid Grandma's wrath if he'll act as our inside man in the cabins. Which, that would be helpful since then we could confirm some of our suspicions about a couple of Campers (we have a short list going).

"You mean like a snitch?" Lawrence asks.

"What I mean is: how would you like it if we faxed Grandma a photo of your sculpture?" Mr. Garret says.

Lawrence tells us that Grandma doesn't even have a fax, or a phone, and that he'd rather be back in the ghetto than snitching for us at Camp.

To which Mr. Garret says: "Then back to the dust from whence you came, my friend."

Then he tosses the sculpture into the fire, and we all stand around and watch it turn to ash.

Later that night, a couple of us Dads spend some time jostling up the Old Testament Arts & Crafts Area. We scatter the contents of the fire pit, knock over supplies, and use a carpenter’s hammer to carve teeth marks on the windowsills and doorway.

At intervals, we howl, spiritedly, into the dark.

Tyler, this whole time, is being such a Sport, even though (and this was our little secret) he'd been wetting the bed, not something he normally does at home.

Each morning, I check him, and if there's pee I find him some clean shorts, and take his clothes and bedding down to the laundry before anyone notices.

One morning, after I clean him up, I ask him what he thinks is causing it: "Is there something going on?"

After a while he confides: "It's the wolves."

"Well," I say, "They can't hurt you. They're outside."

"I know," he says, "But, sometimes, it feels like they're inside."


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