About The Happy Campers
Written by Gale Chester Whittington
147 pages / 82500 words
ISBN: 1-933389-31-1
Available file types - html, lit, pdf, prc
Kent Weschester is an unlikely prison inmate. His gambling problem lands him in the Texarkana Federal prison camp, where he has to face the realities of his life. He’s lonely. He’s enamored with a completely unsuitable man, and soon he’s embroiled in a mystery that even a reluctant inmate can’t turn away from.
This Arcus title is by turns funny, poignant, and philosophical, exploring what makes Kent tick, what makes the world of prison go ’round, and how a man can overcome predjudice and mental illness. Now if only Kent could overcome unrequited love.
Review
CB Potts, editor of the upcoming anthology Play Ball, writes: If it is an author’s task to transport the reader into another place, to see the scenery through another’s eyes, then Gale Chester Whittington has accomplished this in “The Happy Campers.”
It is impossible not to appreciate the interminable boredom of prison life as we journey along with Kent through his five-month sentence. It is an amazingly realistic portrait of the delusion and self-serving thinking many inmates embrace and are often willing to spout at length to any willing listener, mixed up with a hodge-podge of officers, inmates, and supporting characters to add to the verity of the scene. Odd chunks of philosophy weave through the text, as surprising articulate inmates share profound insights at the drop of the hat. Prison resembles nothing as much as an overblown AA meeting, with orange jumpsuits.
Fans of “On the Inside”, “The Big House” or lingering conversations with dysfunctional relatives will instantly feel at ease with “The Happy Campers” Whittington gives us a frighteningly naïve and trusting hero blissfully unaware of the very real dangers of prison life, and allows a bird’s eye view of his personal development. The attention to detail and workmanlike prose is to be commended.
Sample
Chapter One
The Sentencing
Federal Courthouse; Denver, Colorado; April 14, 2000
''Try to relax,'' my public defender whispers. ''The judge oughta be walking through those hallowed doors any minute, Kent.''
Taking a deep breath while leaning back, I close my eyes, allowing my mind to reminisce about the recent past, when I still had a lover, a business, a home. I see it clearly, like I'm in the house right now.
''Snap out of it, Paul!'' Tears track down my cheeks like cracks on a mirror as I search Paul's pale blue eyes for signs of reality.
Exasperated, I shake him by the shoulders. ''Don't you realize it's all in your head? The neighbors have their own lives to take care of. They are not talking about you! Damn it, you aren't that important to them.'' ''I heard them, Kent.'' Paul faces me without making eye contact.
''The lady across the back yard fence called me a faggot from her kitchen window and the kids playing soccer in the street stopped and yelled, 'Queer, queer, queer!' as I drove by.'' Shaking like a man freezing to death, Paul crosses his arms, wrapping each hand around the opposing bicep. He rolls his eyes and rocks his upper torso sideways. ''Can't take this neighborhood any longer, Kent. I've gotta get the hell outta here before I go nuts.''
Why's he saying ''I'' and not ''We?''
Wiping the tears from my cheeks with my sleeve, I suck in air and blow it out like a tormented bull. ''You know this is our dream home. Can't just up and leave something we worked our whole lives to get. This house is proof we made it. Remember, Paul?''
Silent, he stares down at our impractical off-white Berber carpet. I grab his shoulders again, frantically exploring his eyes. ''Please tell me
you remember, Paul.''
No response, not even a flinch. I shake him firmly but lightly again. At last, he faces me and focuses. ''It was only important when we didn't have
it, Kent. You know that. Anyway, everything's changed. The house is a prison now. We're surrounded by people full of hate.''
''Paul! The neighbors love us. They love the way we take care of the yard. They love our over-the-top Halloween display that scares the be-jesus out of their kids every year. They-''
''Yeah. As long as we're court jesters, they tolerate us.'' Paul shakes his head and shudders. ''If we keep our place - entertain the troops - we're okay. Well, I'm sick - sick and tired - of playing the clown... I quit!''
''Please don't do this to me, Paul. Please. I don't think I can take another lover goin' crazy on me.''
''Don't say that. Maybe your ex went nuts. Maybe you drove him that way. But me - I'm not insane. I know what I heard. Anyway, what do you care?''
''Sixteen years! We've got sixteen years under our belts. How can you sit there and tell me I don't care?''