Wilik waited expectantly for the arrival of his summoned, guardian people. A dirt road had already appeared, as if by magic, to lead the boys to the site of Wilik's altar. He passed the time imagining how wonderful it would be once they arrived, and how impressive they'd appear marching single-file while singing some cheerful soprano chorus!
He grew disappointed when the sun began to set without any sign of his scouts. Then the sun set 4 more times without any hint of activity. He was beginning to wonder if the scouting race had gone extinct, but late that morning he heard it. A distant rumbling within a cloud of dust was tracing the path of the road like an approaching stampede.
Wilik watched intently as the noise drew ever closer, until two human vehicles came into view, a busted-up hatchback and an Econoline van towing a flatbed trailer loaded with camping gear and a pair of dirt bikes. They came to a stop a few hundred yards away from the great willow tree where Wilik was holding his breath, doing his best to contain decades worth of anticipation.
A fat man with gleeful eyes and rosy cheeks was the first person to exit his vehicle. He was wearing the complete scouting uniform, including brown shoes, green knee-high socks, forest green shorts, belt, and a tucked-in button-up shirt covered in a myriad of beads, pins and patches. From the moment he stepped out of the van, he seemed to be meditating on the wonders of nature as he looked out on the spectacle of earthly beauty that surrounded him. It was a look that immediately assured Wilik that his people had truly arrived. A look that reflected in itself the noble traditions of an esteemed race. A look that was slowly being replaced by a witless gaze of bewilderment.
"What the f*** are we doing way out here?!" He bellowed.
A few more bodies slowly emerged from the van. Younger, maybe 14-16, and for the most part leaner, but none of them were dressed properly at all. They were wearing graphic tees and damaged jeans with unnatural looking shoes that were unlike anything Wilik had ever seen. They didn't look anything like the scouts in Wilik's book. Their hair was a mess, and their dazed, languid movements and murmured complaints made it seem like they didn't want to be outside at all!
The older man had been staring at his watch for a good few minutes, as though he were slowly relearning how to read it.
"Oh, Jesus F***!" He suddenly exclaimed. "No - no - nonono. Not today. I can't do this camping sh*** today! I'm due in court! God Damn It!... Amber is going to take me for everything I have! EVERYBODY GET OUT OF THE VAN!"
The man was frantically throwing the doors of the van open and yanking boys and equipment out with shameless desperation, but it was slowly dawning on him that he wasn't going to be able to get the van unloaded and turned around in time no matter how frantic he was.
"Barrett!" He yelled at the smaller vehicle. "Let me have your keys!"
A 16 year old boy got out of the car, looking rather uncertain about what was happening.
"What the heck, Dad. What are we doing out here?"
"I don't know, it's one of those camp things… Look, I screwed up here, alright? I NEED to get back home right away. Just give me your keys."
"Camp thing? When did we plan this? What's with your clothes?"
The man looked down and noticed for the first time that he was dressed like a 1930's dweeb. "Jesus Christ! I can't show up to court in this shit!... Ugh… Fu***, it doesn't matter!... Keys, Barrett. Keys!!! "
"Hold on, let's just all go back, Dad." Barrett grumbled while the other boys erupted in a vague ensemble of agreement.
"Oh no. I'm not going to explain this debacle to your fu***ing parents… Certainly not after going toe to toe with that bloodsucking Bi*** Amber. You guys just camp out 'til morning, eat junk food, mess around, and do whatever you want. Just don't burn down the forest and I'll be back in the morning to help pack up and get everybody home."
It only half registered in Barrett's mind when his dad snatched the keys from his hand, swiftly ejected Ryan from the passenger seat, jettisoned everything from the rear hatch, peeled out, turned back down the road, and sped away with the hatch still open; it simply bobbed loosely behind him as he disappeared into an expanding cloud of dust.
Once the dust cleared, Todd was the first to speak. "So… Where should we set up the tents?"
"Screw that." Barrett said. "We're going home. Get back in the van, guys."
He lazily rounded the van and mounted the driver seat, but found the keys hadn't been left in the ignition. "...Anybody know where the keys are?"
"I guess your dad must still have them." Drew said.
Barrett didn't say a word. He just let his head fall against the steering wheel in defeat.
…………………
Wilik couldn't be more disappointed with his guardian people. Not a single one of the eight boys was anything like how his scout manual had described. They were vulgar, irreverent, disrespectful, intolerant, unmanageable, unfit, and in all other ways unsuitable for guardianship. They were without a doubt the worst race out of any potential guardian species he had ever laid eyes on.
In mere hours the boys had turned their small piece of his tranquil valley into a shambles with their noisy dirt bikes, paintball fights, loud music, unattended bonfires, fireworks, constant bickering, frequent showboating, chronic bad attitudes, and general disorderliness.
Wilik didn't know what to do! He was terrified of these boys. It couldn't possibly be safe to communicate with such savages, not even to ask them to leave. He'd risk immediate destruction at their villainous, untamed hands!
As the night grew deep, the boys began to settle into their gossamer-thin shelters.
"Well, I'm ready to turn in, Berrett." Ryan said. "...I noticed you didn't bother to, but I set up a tent earlier, if you wanna share."
"GAY." Berrett announced flatly.
"Dude, I was being nice. What are you gonna do, sleep outside?"
"Screw that." Barret Said, hoisting up a box of individually wrapped pickles from the pile of supplies. "I'll sleep in the van."
"Why should you get the van?"
"Cuz I'm in charge."
"Oh… Uh-huh, sure… And you're taking an entire box of pickles too, huh?"
"Why not? I love pickles..."
"GAY."
Barrett turned around sharply and whipped one of the wrapped pickles directly at Ryans chest with a chuckle.
"Oh. Dude, you are so lucky that didn't break. I seriously would have killed you, man." Ryan said while picking up the weaponized snack for later consumption.
"Night."
"Night."
…………………
Wilik couldn't fathom his great fortune. The scouts had failed to elect anyone to keep watch, and were now all sleeping at the same time. Their slovenly nature had finally become an asset…
Most of the boys were paired off in their tents, and it would yet be too great a danger to confront more than a single one by himself. Luckily their leader Barrett had elected to sleep by himself…
Wilik flew to the back of the van where the double doors had been left wide open. He could hear the soft sound of snoring from inside, and could even see one of the boy's feet poking out from the edge of the van into the cool night air.
The young fairy carried the sacred text with him and placed it gently at the side of the sleeping teen. He then cast a pinch of special powder into the boy's nose which caused him to immediately rise to a seated position. He made some confused grunts, but remained staring forward with his eyes heavily lidded.
"What has happened to your noble race, oh troop leader Barrett? How have you come to lose your way?"
"Huh?"
Wilik had been hoping for a lot more than that… Had there in fact been some great mistake in his summoning? Were these bedeviled youths perhaps not truly the legitimate kin of the fabled scouts of old?
"Scouts, Barrett. Are you and the others not truly boy scouts?"
"Huh, scouts? No… No way bro… It's not like that. It's my dad's thing…"
"Go on." Wilik said with soft encouragement.
"It's called like... I don't know... Adventure scouts or something. It's not lame like that… Come on guys… It's not funny… I'm not a boy scout… I'm not a loser!… It's just camping and shit… Shut up…"
Wilik couldn't tell from the boy's ramblings whether he was actually a boy scout or not. He seemed to be embarrassed by the very idea of scouts somehow… Perhaps his words could not be trusted…
Resolving to get to the bottom of this terrible mystery, he gently placed Barrett's right hand onto the sacred text and applied a dash of magic. Instantly a glowing rank insignia appeared on the back of the boy's hand indicating that he truly was a boy scout with the rank of first class!
That was enough for Wilik. He had a deep love and respect for the storied scouts of yore, and if it was to be left to him to revive the legendary race to their former glory, he was ever so proud to try!
With renewed determination, the young fairy lifted the sacred manual and gently saturated the pages with literal plumes of his potent magic, then he brought the text to the sleeping boy's nose and fanned the pages, ejecting a potent cloud of glowing dust over his entire face.