I pull my shorts up and check the first aid kit. The medicated wipes and bandages aren’t going to cut it. My only other option is to visit the clinic. Because of the nature of the camp, there’s always a nurse on call. I almost trip over the girl from the dock on my way out the door.
“Everything okay? They’re starting the campfire soon. You’re coming, right?”
“I’ll be there. I need to make a quick stop first.”
My shorts chafe against my swollen ball, forcing me to hobble. The girl bounces along beside me. She’s got great energy when it comes to working with the kids, but right now I find it irritating, mostly because I’m in pain.
“Oh wow. You’re limping. Did it get you on the leg?” She bends at the waist like she’s trying to see. Her head is almost at crotch level.
I want to get there as quickly as possible, but the faster I move, the more it hurts. “I didn’t get bit on the leg.”
“Where’d it bite you?”
“On the balls.”
“Oh. Oh, God.” That stops the questions.
We run into Randy on the way to the medical clinic. He’s with that girl from the showers. He frowns when he sees me walking like a felon who caught a bullet in the ass. He glances between me and the girl. It’s the first time I’ve noticed she’s blond and looks a little like Sunny. That might explain my subconscious attempt to get away from her.
“What happened to you?” Randy asks.
Sunny’s doppelganger bounces excitedly. “A spider bit Buck on his balls!”
“How did that happen?” Randy’s suspicion is offensive. I managed to go without pussy for three months. I’m not going to fold after five days because the chick beside me looks like my sort-of girlfriend, who’s currently seven hours away. Without cell phone reception. And who’s all buddy-buddy with her ex-boyfriend of four years.
“I’m assuming it crawled into my shorts, took one look at my balls, thought, hey man, those look tasty, and chomped down. But I’m not a spider-whisperer, so I have no idea how spiders make those kinds of decisions. That’s just a guess.”
Randy has the audacity to check with Doppelganger to verify whether I’m indeed telling the truth.
She lifts one shoulder and lets it fall. “I heard a scream and went to check it out. I was worried some of the kids might have snuck down to the water without permission. I found Miller on the dock. He squished the spider. It was hard to tell what kind it was, but it was probably a dock spider because he was on the dock.”
This whole conversation might be okay if it didn’t feel as if my balls were about to explode like the sun. “I need to hit the bathroom.”
“I still think you should let me check it out. You look uncomfortable.” She makes a face. “And you’re sweaty.”
Randy pats me on the back and steers me in the direction of the staff bathroom. “Come on, let’s go.”
I’d make a douchey comment about how only girls go to the bathroom together, but I’m worried about how tight the front of my shorts are.
I’m relieved to find the bathroom empty. I close the door, and Randy stands in front of it. There’s no lock on the inside, so he’s my barricade while I’m checking the damage. “You need to tell me how bad it is. I can’t see the bite.”
Randy crosses his arms over his chest. “I’ll man the door, and you can check it out in that mirror.”
“Fine. But don’t let anyone in here.” I hobble across the room. The mirror is so old it has a cloudy haze to it. It’s also high up on the wall. At 6’2” I’m tall, but the mirror only reaches my waist. I drop my shorts and jump up. All I catch a glimpse of is the head of my dick—not my swollen balls. “I can’t see anything.”
“Try taking the mirror off the wall.”
“It’s fastened with screws.” I turn around, prepared to show my irritation with a hand gesture.
All the color drains from Randy’s face as he stares at my junk. “Holy fucking shit, dude. You need to see a medic.”
I glance down. I don’t need a mirror to see the problem. In the time it’s taken me to walk from the cabin to the bathrooms, my left nut has swollen to twice its normal size. I gingerly cup my balls in my palm and move my dick out of the way for a better look. My perspective isn’t great, though. It’s enough to see that they’re swollen, and it feels like I’ve given them a bath in lava. “I need an antihistamine, some Tylenol, and maybe a bag a of frozen peas.”
“I think you might need more than that.” He moves closer and leans in.
I’m assaulted by a flash of light. Momentarily blinded, I raise my hands, and my shorts drop all the way to the floor.
“You can’t post that anywhere!” I grab for his phone, but he holds it out of reach, clicking buttons with his thumb.
“It’s just your junk, dude.” He shows me a close-up pic of my branch and berries. “There’s this site where they can identify medical stuff through pictures. Maybe they can figure out what kind of spider bit you.”
“I don’t want pictures of my dick on the Internet!”
This is the exact moment the door flies open, slamming into Randy from behind. He stumbles forward and almost face-plants into my giant balls. I stop him with a palm on his forehead. A senior counselor—I recognize him from mess hall duty—stands inside the door. He starts to apologize, but it turns into a croak when he sees me fisting my dick and Randy on his knees in front of me with his phone in his hand.