As Corrine and I walk back up to the cabin, I ask Corrine what comes next.
“This camp has got to be cleaned up after the winter. We did it before we left last year, but there’s always sweeping and stuff.”
Housework, actually, bunkwork.
We go back to the cabin. I sweep the floor, and Corrine gets the spider webs down.
I look down at a corner of the room. There are all of these tiny brown pellets.
“Corrine, what’s this?” I call her over.
“Mouse turds,” she says.
I look at her, then realize she’s not kidding around.
They really are mouse turds.
I think I’m going to throw up.
I wonder if bats make pellets too.
I feel like Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz, when she turns to her dog and realizes that she’s far from home.
Well, Toto, I guess we’re not in New Jersey
anymore.