Fine Flu Journal Fine Flu Journal- june 2014 | Page 10

ZACC DUKOWITZ
Saved

“Come here,” our camp counselor said. “All of you guys.” His name was Joe
and he smelled like cigarettes. We crowded around him in the middle of the
cabin, squeezing together and leaning our heads forward. I was twelve years
old, and this was my first summer at camp.
“Do you know what an oral fixation is?” Joe said.
Most of us shook our heads no. Eli said, “Well, I’ve seen one once, but . . .”
“Shut up,” Joe said. “You don’t know. That’s OK,” he said, and we all relaxed a
little. “I’m going to show you, but you have to promise”—he looked us each in
the eye, all five of us, one at time—“you have to promise that you won’t tell
Michael. Deal?”
We nodded vigorously. Deal.
“An oral fixation is when you can’t stop touching your mouth. It’s like, you’re
obsessed with your mouth.”
“My little brother has that,” Eli said.
“He’s probably a baby though, right?”
Eli shrugged.
“What I’m talking about is when older kids do it. Just wait. Tonight, after
lights out, you guys pretend to go to sleep and then I’ll turn on my flashlight
and show you.
But remember—don’t tell Michael.”
On the way out of the dining hall after dinner Michael caught up to Steve, my
best friend at camp, and me.
“Hey guys,” he said, panting. Like most fat kids, Michael was always a little
out of breath. Michael also had to be the only kid named Michael who didn’t
10