I unwrap myself from the tangle of arms, and look down, and scream.

The camp leader gives me a tour of the grounds. He’s a taciturn tour guide. There isn’t much to show. The main stone building contains the common room, and the dining hall. The fireplace is crackling, and enclosed by three mismatched armchairs that look like rescues from the tip. A short bookcase at the opposite end of the room is lined with trashy paperbacks. There’s a gas heater and several black...