***

 “The Circuit Breaker Incident,” a short narrative that transforms a mundane camp power outage into an allegory for rediscovering connection—both human and natural.

*** 

The Circuit Breaker Incident

By Harry Arabian — Minuteman Trade School Counselor & Outdoor Enthusiast

---

A Sunday That Sparked Something Different

It was an overcast Sunday at Adventure Summer Camp—August 28, the final weekend before I traded my counselor’s cap for a teacher’s badge back at Minuteman Trade School for Boys & Girls.

Building 19 was mine to wrangle—twelve teenagers, equal parts energy and curiosity, temporarily tamed by the sound of drizzle on the cabin roof. Sunday was our “take-it-easy” day, and I planned to honor that with a fifteen-minute nap.

That plan didn’t survive the first thunderous bang.

The room went dark, followed by panicked shouts and shuffling feet. Then came Bob—the gym instructor from Building 18—charging in with a flashlight and rain dripping from his cap.

“We tripped the camp circuit breaker!” he hollered, equal parts excitement and panic.

---

Wires, Critters, and a Flashlight Investigation

Bob knew my day job was teaching Electrical Technology, so naturally, I was elected “camp electrician.” He led the way to the electrical room, cutting through the misty rain like a trail guide with a mission.

One sweep of the flashlight told the story: chewed wires, gnawed insulation, and one very absent door that had failed to keep out the local wildlife.

“Well,” I said, turning to the dozen campers now crowding the doorway, “we’re done. Time to go off the grid. Back to basic survival mode—grab your flashlights and let’s find the campfire.”

---

When the Power Goes Out, the Magic Begins

By the time we reached the fire pit, the drizzle had softened to a silver mist. The air smelled of wet pine and wood smoke—pure camp perfume.

Bob and a few older campers managed to spark the fire alive with dry twigs and leftover newspapers. Soon, faces glowed orange, and laughter replaced the earlier screams.

Someone dug up marshmallows; another produced a half-bag of chocolate chips. Suddenly, “power outage” became “campfire feast.”

Bob launched a ghost story contest. Tales grew taller by the minute—giant raccoons, haunted cabins, and a ghostly electrician who roamed the woods fixing phantom lights.

When it was my turn, I told them about our mysterious wire-chewing spirits who hated electricity but loved the smell of roasted marshmallows. The kids were hooked, their flashlights flickering like little fireflies.

---

Power Restored, But Not the Same

Hours later, the distant hum of the generator rolled through the forest. Cabin windows blinked to life one by one. The kids groaned in protest.

Bob chuckled. “Guess that’s it for survival mode, Professor.”

I leaned back, watching sparks rise into the night. “Maybe—but losing power gave us something a circuit never could.”

The fire crackled, the air cooled, and for a few rare minutes, twelve teenagers forgot their phones, their playlists, and their Wi-Fi bars—content instead to just be out there, under the stars, powered only by firelight and imagination.