part 1:
The Fateful Dip in the Springs
by Matthew Atanian
©1997 by Matthew Atanian
The Fateful Dip in the Springs
by Matthew Atanian
©1997 by Matthew Atanian
As he left the plane, Boy Scout leader Matthew Atanian looked behind him to make sure that his four Scouts were right behind him. "Here we are," he said to them, "back on American Soil."
"I don't know if you'd call the interior of an airport 'soil'," Aaron Abdowmassy responded. Aaron had won a trip to China for himself, three other Scouts from his Troop, and one Troop Leader through a contest in Boy's Life magazine. He had asked Matt to be the Scout Leader, and his three friends Mike Quadrozzi, Bill Hughes, and Bill Gelinas to be the other three scouts.
"Where to now?" Mike asked.
"I guess we get our luggage, go through customs, and go home," Matt said.
After a lengthy wait in the customs line, the five emerged from Bradley International Airport.
"Now we're on American soil once again," Bill Gelinas commented.
"No," Bill Hughes responded, "this is American pavement." Matt looked up at the sky as an airplane flew noisily overhead, momentarily eclipsing the sun. "Thank god it's a clear day," he said. "Not a cloud in the sky."
"Definitely glad for that," Aaron said. "If it rained, I'd hate to have to explain... you know... to my parents."
A large blue mini-van pulled up.
"Speaking of your parents," Matt said.
The van's passenger side window rolled down, and Mrs. Abdowmassy stuck her head out of the window. "Hi, Aaron! Have a nice time in China?"
"Um, yeah," Aaron responded as convincingly as he could.
Sandy Quadrozzi, Mike's mom, pulled up in her blue-green car. She greeted Mike similarly to Mrs. Abdowmassy's greeting to her son.
Soon, everyone's ride had arrived. Before letting the four Scouts go, Matt called them all together where they would not be overheard by the waiting parents.
"Remember," he told them, "not a word about what happened."
"I don't think you'll have to worry about that," Billy Gelinas said. "I'm sure as hell not going to tell anyone."
"Good," Matt said. "Remember, try to avoid cold water at any cost. Good luck to you all, and see you at the meeting Wednesday."
The five of them went their separate ways, yet they were still bound together by both the bonds of friendship and the shared burden of a terrible secret.
A week ago, the five had been enjoying a hike through the Chinese wilderness. Their guide, a thickly accented, slightly heavy built Chinese man in some sort of uniform, was taking them to many majestic spots that few foreigners ever get the chance to see.
This day they were hiking through the area of Mt. Quanjing, a mountain in the Qinghai Province's Bayankala Range.
Around noon, the group reached a strange area filled with countless springs. Each spring had at least one bamboo pole emerging vertically from it, and in the case of some of the larger springs, two or three poles. The mountain filled horizon added to the mysterious field of springs' majestic beauty.
The guide came to a stop and faced the group. "Here, sirs, is legendary 'Training Ground of Accursed Springs,' Jusenkyo. This place very dangerous. Almost nobody use now. Is more than one hundred spring here, and every one have own tragic legend!"
Matt removed his backpack. "We'll break here for lunch."
Bill Hughes tapped a Swamp and a Forest as he took a bite of his sandwich. He cast a Swamp Mosquito. He then tapped his other Swamp Mosquito, his Marsh Viper, and his two Pit Scorpions. "Billy, I'm attacking you."
"No fair," Billy responded. "Aaron just wiped out all of my potential blockers."
"Why do you think I'm attacking you?" Bill said.
"Sirs," the guide said, "this is very strange card game. What you say it called again?"
"Magic: The Gathering," Aaron responded.
"So how much damage is that?" Billy asked.
"Three damage," Bill responded. "And don't forget that you get five poison counters."
"Thanks, Bill," Billy grumbled.
"Any time. I'm done."
"My turn," Matt said. He drew a card, then considered his hand carefully, already knowing what he would do. He already had a Blanket of Night and a Circle of Protection: White in play, so of course he would put out his Karma. "I'm done," he said.
"Oh, crap," Aaron said, "Matt's got this game in the bank."
"My turn?" Mike asked. The others nodded, so he untapped his cards. As he had eleven mana-producing lands in play, he took eleven damage from Karma. However, Mike had a trick up his sleeve that, while it wouldn't get rid of Matt's deadly Blanket of Night -- CoP: White -- Karma combo, had plenty of bite of it's own.
Mike looked at his hand. Two Mountains, two Forests, a Feldon's Cane, a Lhurgoyf, a Jokulhaups, and a Giant Growth. While the Giant Growth, which he just drew, was unimportant for the moment, the rest of the cards in his hand would give everyone else a very nasty surprise. Mike tapped two Forests, two Mountains, and his Dormant Volcano. Using the six mana this gave him, he pulled the Jokulhaups from his hand and dramatically threw it to the ground. "Hey Matt, remember that trick you showed me at that Klondike Weekend?"
Matt smiled knowingly.
"That's it," Mike said, "everything but Enchantments are out of here."
As if on cue, a strong gust of mountain wind suddenly blew in, picking up all the cards and depositing them into the springs. Immediately, the five players sprang to their feet and went after the cards.
The guard also bolted to his feet and yelled out after the scouts, "Hey, sirs! Where you going?"
The scouts continued forward without paying heed to the guard's calls.
"You can't go there! You've not yet heard all of Tragic Story!"
"Split up!" Matt told the scouts. "We'll each take a spring and get the cards!"
"Quick, before their ruined!" Bill Hughes reminded.
"Please, sirs!" The guard shouted in final warning. "Is very bad to fall in spring!"
Almost in unison, the five dove into separate springs, grabbing after their waterlogged Magic Cards. Immediately upon making contact with the water, their arms started flailing wildly, as some unseen force dragged them under. They all felt an intense tingling sensation all over their bodies as if a great pressure were being exerted on them.
After a moment, the four of them, all but Matt, broke through the surface, one by one, all gasping for air. However, they were not the same as before jumping into the springs.
"Oh, too bad," the guide said. "You all fall in accursed springs. In many many years I am working here as guide, I never see so many fall into springs at one time."
The guide turned to Aaron. "You, sir, fall in Yaazuniichuan, Spring of Drowned Duck. There is very tragic legend of duck who drown in spring three thousand year ago. Now, whoever fall in spring take on body of unfortunate duck."
Aaron furiously quacked at the guide as he angrily shook a wing at him.
The guide turned to Mike. "You, sir, fall in Song-shu-niichuan, Spring of Drowned Squirrel. There is very tragic legend of squirrel who drown there one thousand nine hundred year ago. Now, whoever fall in same spring take body of same squirrel."
Mike had managed the shore and had crawled our of the spring. He was shaking the water out of his fur as the guide turned to Billy Gelinas.
"You sir, you fall in Gou-niichuan, Spring of Drowned Dog. There is very tragic story -- very tragic -- of poor dog who drown there two thousand five hundred year ago. Now whoever fall in spring take body of dog."
Billy was paddling towards the shore and howling in despair. Matt finely came to the surface as the guide turned to Bill Hughes.
"You, sir, fall in Maoniichuan, Spring of Drowned Cat. There is very tragic legend of cat who drown in spring eighteen hundred year ago. Now, whoever fall in spring take on body of cat."
Bill inquisitively meowed, not sure what was going on. Matt, meanwhile, was in shock, running his hands over his own body.
"Oh, too bad," the guide said to him, "you fall in Nyanniichuan, Spring of Drowned Girl. There is very tragic legend, very tragic, of young girl who drown in spring one thousand five hundred year ago. Now whoever fall in that spring take body of young girl!"
Matt grabbed his chest and was surprised to find that he had ample breasts. Horror than gripped him as his hands moved down to his groin.
"You see," the guide said, "now you young girl."
"Oh my god!" Matt exclaimed in inhuman terror. "It's gone!"
It was Tuesday, two days after they had gotten back home. Matt was making calls to the others to see how they were fairing.
"How is everything, Aaron? Are you okay?"
"I had a close call yesterday," Aaron responded. "I was walking home from a friend's yesterday when someone's sprinkler system got me. I flew home and luckily the bathroom window was open. I got myself some hot water and changed back to normal."
"Oh, good."
"How's everyone else?"
"They're okay, so far. Bill got chased by a neighborhood dog, but he got away."
"How long do you think we can keep this up, Matt?" Aaron asked. "I mean, it's bound to rain on a camping trip or something. What'll we do then? And on the first winter camping trip, I'm sure that our body heat will melt any snow. You know what that means."
"Yup. Melted snow equals cold water equals you're a duck and I'm a woman."
"So what do we do then? You do a Playboy centerfold and use the proceeds to buy me a nice little pond?"
"It won't come to that. We just need to keep some hot water around. With that, we can easily change back."
"Yes, but we can't let anyone else find out."
"I know, Aaron, I know. I'll think of something."
"I sure hope you will."
"See you tomorrow at the meeting."
Wednesday night, a little before 6:30, Boy Scout Troop 192 gathered at the Church in the Acres on Wilbraham Road in Springfield, Massachusetts. A little after 6:30, the Scoutmaster, Mr. William Pruyne, was making his opening announcements.
"Remember, this is our last meeting before Summer Camp next week, so we will be going over the last minute details..."
From behind Mr. Pruyne, Matt shot Aaron, Mike, and the two Bills a shocked look. They all returned the look and also exchanged it with each other.
Summer Camp!
How could they have forgotten?
Summer Camp meant Swim Tests on Sunday. Swim Tests meant diving into the cold waters of Russell Pond in front of not only the rest of the Troop, but in front of the Waterfront Staff and quite a few other Troops, too!
Holy Mother of God!
The dreaded Sunday had arrived. The Troop had arrived at Horace A. Moses Scout Reservation for a week of Summer Camp. Currently, the Troop was at the camp's Waterfront, all clad in bathing suits and all clutching towels and uncolored buddy tags.
"Okay," the waterfront director called out, "Troop 192, you're up. Let's see your leaders, first."
Jack and Joan McGraw, two of the Troop's other adult leaders, were the first to dive in. Matt was glad to let them go first. He'd gladly let anyone go first. He'd politely offer Hitler a nice relaxing dip in the pond before going in himself.
Unfortunately, Hitler was long dead, which while for the most part a good thing, Matt could have used him alive now as it was otherwise his turn to take a swim test. Matt was sweating profusely, which was only partially from the intense heatwave Massachusetts had been experiencing for the last few weeks. Mostly, the sweat was because he was nervous as hell.
He was about to dive into a pond full of water. He would turn into a woman in front of all of these Boy Scouts. And, being a man, Matt's suit didn't exactly cover his chest.
He was going to turn into a topless woman in an environment full of men, most of whom were around puberty with the special hormones and urges that brings, and all of whom probably wouldn't realize that despite appearances he was a man. Matt could picture the ensuing riot in his head as hundreds of groping hands reached out for him. He felt as if he would be sick.
Aaron, Billy, Mike, and Bill, all watched Matt and preyed for a miracle.
"Okay," one of the waterfront staff members said, walking up to Matt, "no more stalling! In you go!"
"I don't know if you'd call the interior of an airport 'soil'," Aaron Abdowmassy responded. Aaron had won a trip to China for himself, three other Scouts from his Troop, and one Troop Leader through a contest in Boy's Life magazine. He had asked Matt to be the Scout Leader, and his three friends Mike Quadrozzi, Bill Hughes, and Bill Gelinas to be the other three scouts.
"Where to now?" Mike asked.
"I guess we get our luggage, go through customs, and go home," Matt said.
After a lengthy wait in the customs line, the five emerged from Bradley International Airport.
"Now we're on American soil once again," Bill Gelinas commented.
"No," Bill Hughes responded, "this is American pavement." Matt looked up at the sky as an airplane flew noisily overhead, momentarily eclipsing the sun. "Thank god it's a clear day," he said. "Not a cloud in the sky."
"Definitely glad for that," Aaron said. "If it rained, I'd hate to have to explain... you know... to my parents."
A large blue mini-van pulled up.
"Speaking of your parents," Matt said.
The van's passenger side window rolled down, and Mrs. Abdowmassy stuck her head out of the window. "Hi, Aaron! Have a nice time in China?"
"Um, yeah," Aaron responded as convincingly as he could.
Sandy Quadrozzi, Mike's mom, pulled up in her blue-green car. She greeted Mike similarly to Mrs. Abdowmassy's greeting to her son.
Soon, everyone's ride had arrived. Before letting the four Scouts go, Matt called them all together where they would not be overheard by the waiting parents.
"Remember," he told them, "not a word about what happened."
"I don't think you'll have to worry about that," Billy Gelinas said. "I'm sure as hell not going to tell anyone."
"Good," Matt said. "Remember, try to avoid cold water at any cost. Good luck to you all, and see you at the meeting Wednesday."
The five of them went their separate ways, yet they were still bound together by both the bonds of friendship and the shared burden of a terrible secret.
A week ago, the five had been enjoying a hike through the Chinese wilderness. Their guide, a thickly accented, slightly heavy built Chinese man in some sort of uniform, was taking them to many majestic spots that few foreigners ever get the chance to see.
This day they were hiking through the area of Mt. Quanjing, a mountain in the Qinghai Province's Bayankala Range.
Around noon, the group reached a strange area filled with countless springs. Each spring had at least one bamboo pole emerging vertically from it, and in the case of some of the larger springs, two or three poles. The mountain filled horizon added to the mysterious field of springs' majestic beauty.
The guide came to a stop and faced the group. "Here, sirs, is legendary 'Training Ground of Accursed Springs,' Jusenkyo. This place very dangerous. Almost nobody use now. Is more than one hundred spring here, and every one have own tragic legend!"
Matt removed his backpack. "We'll break here for lunch."
Bill Hughes tapped a Swamp and a Forest as he took a bite of his sandwich. He cast a Swamp Mosquito. He then tapped his other Swamp Mosquito, his Marsh Viper, and his two Pit Scorpions. "Billy, I'm attacking you."
"No fair," Billy responded. "Aaron just wiped out all of my potential blockers."
"Why do you think I'm attacking you?" Bill said.
"Sirs," the guide said, "this is very strange card game. What you say it called again?"
"Magic: The Gathering," Aaron responded.
"So how much damage is that?" Billy asked.
"Three damage," Bill responded. "And don't forget that you get five poison counters."
"Thanks, Bill," Billy grumbled.
"Any time. I'm done."
"My turn," Matt said. He drew a card, then considered his hand carefully, already knowing what he would do. He already had a Blanket of Night and a Circle of Protection: White in play, so of course he would put out his Karma. "I'm done," he said.
"Oh, crap," Aaron said, "Matt's got this game in the bank."
"My turn?" Mike asked. The others nodded, so he untapped his cards. As he had eleven mana-producing lands in play, he took eleven damage from Karma. However, Mike had a trick up his sleeve that, while it wouldn't get rid of Matt's deadly Blanket of Night -- CoP: White -- Karma combo, had plenty of bite of it's own.
Mike looked at his hand. Two Mountains, two Forests, a Feldon's Cane, a Lhurgoyf, a Jokulhaups, and a Giant Growth. While the Giant Growth, which he just drew, was unimportant for the moment, the rest of the cards in his hand would give everyone else a very nasty surprise. Mike tapped two Forests, two Mountains, and his Dormant Volcano. Using the six mana this gave him, he pulled the Jokulhaups from his hand and dramatically threw it to the ground. "Hey Matt, remember that trick you showed me at that Klondike Weekend?"
Matt smiled knowingly.
"That's it," Mike said, "everything but Enchantments are out of here."
As if on cue, a strong gust of mountain wind suddenly blew in, picking up all the cards and depositing them into the springs. Immediately, the five players sprang to their feet and went after the cards.
The guard also bolted to his feet and yelled out after the scouts, "Hey, sirs! Where you going?"
The scouts continued forward without paying heed to the guard's calls.
"You can't go there! You've not yet heard all of Tragic Story!"
"Split up!" Matt told the scouts. "We'll each take a spring and get the cards!"
"Quick, before their ruined!" Bill Hughes reminded.
"Please, sirs!" The guard shouted in final warning. "Is very bad to fall in spring!"
Almost in unison, the five dove into separate springs, grabbing after their waterlogged Magic Cards. Immediately upon making contact with the water, their arms started flailing wildly, as some unseen force dragged them under. They all felt an intense tingling sensation all over their bodies as if a great pressure were being exerted on them.
After a moment, the four of them, all but Matt, broke through the surface, one by one, all gasping for air. However, they were not the same as before jumping into the springs.
"Oh, too bad," the guide said. "You all fall in accursed springs. In many many years I am working here as guide, I never see so many fall into springs at one time."
The guide turned to Aaron. "You, sir, fall in Yaazuniichuan, Spring of Drowned Duck. There is very tragic legend of duck who drown in spring three thousand year ago. Now, whoever fall in spring take on body of unfortunate duck."
Aaron furiously quacked at the guide as he angrily shook a wing at him.
The guide turned to Mike. "You, sir, fall in Song-shu-niichuan, Spring of Drowned Squirrel. There is very tragic legend of squirrel who drown there one thousand nine hundred year ago. Now, whoever fall in same spring take body of same squirrel."
Mike had managed the shore and had crawled our of the spring. He was shaking the water out of his fur as the guide turned to Billy Gelinas.
"You sir, you fall in Gou-niichuan, Spring of Drowned Dog. There is very tragic story -- very tragic -- of poor dog who drown there two thousand five hundred year ago. Now whoever fall in spring take body of dog."
Billy was paddling towards the shore and howling in despair. Matt finely came to the surface as the guide turned to Bill Hughes.
"You, sir, fall in Maoniichuan, Spring of Drowned Cat. There is very tragic legend of cat who drown in spring eighteen hundred year ago. Now, whoever fall in spring take on body of cat."
Bill inquisitively meowed, not sure what was going on. Matt, meanwhile, was in shock, running his hands over his own body.
"Oh, too bad," the guide said to him, "you fall in Nyanniichuan, Spring of Drowned Girl. There is very tragic legend, very tragic, of young girl who drown in spring one thousand five hundred year ago. Now whoever fall in that spring take body of young girl!"
Matt grabbed his chest and was surprised to find that he had ample breasts. Horror than gripped him as his hands moved down to his groin.
"You see," the guide said, "now you young girl."
"Oh my god!" Matt exclaimed in inhuman terror. "It's gone!"
It was Tuesday, two days after they had gotten back home. Matt was making calls to the others to see how they were fairing.
"How is everything, Aaron? Are you okay?"
"I had a close call yesterday," Aaron responded. "I was walking home from a friend's yesterday when someone's sprinkler system got me. I flew home and luckily the bathroom window was open. I got myself some hot water and changed back to normal."
"Oh, good."
"How's everyone else?"
"They're okay, so far. Bill got chased by a neighborhood dog, but he got away."
"How long do you think we can keep this up, Matt?" Aaron asked. "I mean, it's bound to rain on a camping trip or something. What'll we do then? And on the first winter camping trip, I'm sure that our body heat will melt any snow. You know what that means."
"Yup. Melted snow equals cold water equals you're a duck and I'm a woman."
"So what do we do then? You do a Playboy centerfold and use the proceeds to buy me a nice little pond?"
"It won't come to that. We just need to keep some hot water around. With that, we can easily change back."
"Yes, but we can't let anyone else find out."
"I know, Aaron, I know. I'll think of something."
"I sure hope you will."
"See you tomorrow at the meeting."
Wednesday night, a little before 6:30, Boy Scout Troop 192 gathered at the Church in the Acres on Wilbraham Road in Springfield, Massachusetts. A little after 6:30, the Scoutmaster, Mr. William Pruyne, was making his opening announcements.
"Remember, this is our last meeting before Summer Camp next week, so we will be going over the last minute details..."
From behind Mr. Pruyne, Matt shot Aaron, Mike, and the two Bills a shocked look. They all returned the look and also exchanged it with each other.
Summer Camp!
How could they have forgotten?
Summer Camp meant Swim Tests on Sunday. Swim Tests meant diving into the cold waters of Russell Pond in front of not only the rest of the Troop, but in front of the Waterfront Staff and quite a few other Troops, too!
Holy Mother of God!
The dreaded Sunday had arrived. The Troop had arrived at Horace A. Moses Scout Reservation for a week of Summer Camp. Currently, the Troop was at the camp's Waterfront, all clad in bathing suits and all clutching towels and uncolored buddy tags.
"Okay," the waterfront director called out, "Troop 192, you're up. Let's see your leaders, first."
Jack and Joan McGraw, two of the Troop's other adult leaders, were the first to dive in. Matt was glad to let them go first. He'd gladly let anyone go first. He'd politely offer Hitler a nice relaxing dip in the pond before going in himself.
Unfortunately, Hitler was long dead, which while for the most part a good thing, Matt could have used him alive now as it was otherwise his turn to take a swim test. Matt was sweating profusely, which was only partially from the intense heatwave Massachusetts had been experiencing for the last few weeks. Mostly, the sweat was because he was nervous as hell.
He was about to dive into a pond full of water. He would turn into a woman in front of all of these Boy Scouts. And, being a man, Matt's suit didn't exactly cover his chest.
He was going to turn into a topless woman in an environment full of men, most of whom were around puberty with the special hormones and urges that brings, and all of whom probably wouldn't realize that despite appearances he was a man. Matt could picture the ensuing riot in his head as hundreds of groping hands reached out for him. He felt as if he would be sick.
Aaron, Billy, Mike, and Bill, all watched Matt and preyed for a miracle.
"Okay," one of the waterfront staff members said, walking up to Matt, "no more stalling! In you go!"
To be continued...
The "Training Ground of Accursed Springs," Jusenkyo, and the Chinese Guide are from the Ranma ½ stories by Rumiko Takahashi and are used without permission.
Most members of Troop 192 are based on real people who in real life are members of Boy Scout Troop 192. Locations used in this story (with the exception of Jusenkyo) are not fictitious.
Special thanks to Kelly Dedea for being kind enough to provide me with the names for the Spring of Drowned Squirrel and Spring of Drowned Dog.
This story was written without the consent of the Boy Scouts of America.
Most members of Troop 192 are based on real people who in real life are members of Boy Scout Troop 192. Locations used in this story (with the exception of Jusenkyo) are not fictitious.
Special thanks to Kelly Dedea for being kind enough to provide me with the names for the Spring of Drowned Squirrel and Spring of Drowned Dog.
This story was written without the consent of the Boy Scouts of America.