The Gum, the Chocolate, and the Pill

The war raged on over the years between the girls and the boys at our youth summer camps and I learned a lot from them as a young man. Water balloon fights escalated into shaving cream battles. The Saran wrapped toilet seats in the girl's dormitory lead to retaliation and the clandestine theft of all the boy's light bulbs on the holiday weekend retreat. There was no chance at peace talks after that round because my friend Stephen entered the action. He was a genius (our class valedictorian years later) and read voraciously, even at camp. The light bulb heist disrupted his schedule, and it angered him.

– Do not interfere with an intellectuals study timeline.

***

The spring camping trip approached, and he invited me to his house to make plans for the coming gender-based battles.

"Forget the small time pranks, it's time to get serious and put the girls in their place once and for all. We will strike first and strike hard," he said, "Have you heard of Feen-a-mint gum?"

Chiclets brand gum was a popular cardboard box packaged gum that held ten squares. Feen-a-mint was an over-the-counter laxative gum that looked the same as Chicklets.

The plan? Replace a box of Chiclets gum with Feen-a-mint gum and lure the girls into wanting it.

The first night at camp was usually a truce, and the shenanigans would start the next day. We had our dinner and gathered around the campfire for the stories. Stephen held out the Chiclets gum box to me, and I made a big deal of tossing the legitimate squares of gum into my mouth. He did the same and put it in his pocket. Betsy, the girl's designated leader and her sidekick Linda, walked up, snatched the box out of Stephen's pocket, and emptied the contents into her hand. They tossed four pieces of gum each into their mouths and threw the box at Stephen.

"Thanks for the gum, ya'll,” and ran off.

Stephen looked at me, and we both smiled.

A standard dose of the Feen-a-mint is one half to one piece of gum, and they had consumed four each. We never thought they would be so greedy to chew it all.

I waited about a half-hour and sent a note around the circle of the campfire to Betsy,

What you think you stole is not regular chewing gum but Feenamint. It doesn't pay to be greedy.

She wrote back,

Nice try; I know what Chiclet gum tastes like.

I wrote back to her,

You will know the difference soon enough.

It began about an hour later, and their continuous trips to the campground bathroom turned into an all-night affair. The staff leaders learned what had occurred and were quite angry, and Stephen and I were made to stay up all night waiting on them.

All in all, it was a crappy prank that we never intended to make them sick. We can blame the girl's greed, but we brought the poison to the party.

In this day and time, we'd probably be arrested and charged with a crime, I don't know.

– Don't be greedy.

***

Two weekends later, I was at a party, and Betsy gave me the most enormous chocolate chip cookie I'd ever seen and walked off. Ignorant to the concept of revenge and impressed that Betsy presented a peace offering, I showed it to another friend, Jack, who was home from the Navy. He snatched it out of my hand and crammed it in his mouth. Thirty minutes later, Betsy, ever so proudly, told me the truth about the cookie.

"You know that chocolate chip cookie you ate. That wasn't chocolate, it was loaded with ex-lax," she said.

She couldn't understand why I collapsed to the floor, laughing, and pointed at Jack. Jack had to call into sickbay the next day.

– Don’t steal someone else’s cookie, it may not be what you think.

***

The final episode of this saga occurred on the last day of our summer retreat before our long bus ride home. I ate my cereal, unaware that eyes were watching me from across the cafeteria. I had consumed the cereal and quickly spooned the milk. If at home, I would have picked up the bowl and drank it. Spoon, slurp, spoon, slurp, and for some providential reason, I froze with the full spoon midway. Maybe I sensed the revengeful eyes bearing down on me, I don't know. I looked around the room and couldn't figure out what seemed off-kilter until I looked at the spoon where a tablet laid dead center. I dodged the proverbial bullet, again.

The candy coating had partially dissolved, but I could make out the ex-lax stamp.

- Retribution from a prank, like friendships, can last a lifetime.

Telling this story now, fifty years later, will probably awaken a sleeping giant. However, I will be on the lookout for the retribution that will surely come when I least expect it. Betsy and Linda? Give it your best shot. You are 0 for 2.