It’s sooooo big!!! I can’t wait to find out what’s in it!! I know part of it will be some treats to eat. I also know that Miss Flo told you if you send goodies you have to send enough for me to share with everyone in my age group. But I can’t wait to find out what else might be in there!
Oh! Did Miss Flo tell you WHERE I get to share the treats??
ON THE BIRTHDAY BOAT TRIP!
Anyone who has a birthday during camp gets to go out on the party boat with all the kids in her age group. That means I get to go with Justin, Brandi, Kelly, and all the other neat kids I’ve been telling you about in my letters, like Treasure and Colin.
It does mean that Hannah Burton comes too . . . . . which is sort of an UNbirthday present. I told you that she’s in my bunk. She’s as much of a pain as ever, but camp is so great I almost don’t mind her.
Too bad I can’t bring Cinnamon. The boat is big, but not big enough for a horse. I’m going to save one of the treats and give it to her.
Official Notice! I, Amber Brown, am going to be double digits tomorrow. I’ve been waiting almost ten years for this!
So here’s ten kisses!
X X X X X X X X X X
Love from your little bundle of joy,
Chapter Ten
“Wake up, little Amber, wake up!”
Why would anyone be singing to me first thing in the morning? The camp’s idea of an alarm clock is a bugle playing through the loudspeaker, not singing.
I open my eyes and see Carrie and all my bunkmates gathered below me. As soon as I sit up, they shout, “Happy birthday!” Someone has tied red and yellow balloons to the corners of my bunk.
“This is how we do birthdays at Camp Cushetunk,” Carrie tells me.
“Yeah,” Hannah says. “We had to get up a full half hour early just for you.”
Treasure starts singing “Happy Birthday.” Everyone joins her, ignoring Hannah. When they get to “Happy birthday, dear Amber,” they shower me with glitter.
I decide I like the Camp Cushetunk style.
“You are so lucky to have a summer birthday,” Grace says.
I never felt lucky before. I usually don’t like having a July birthday because school is out and a lot of my friends aren’t around. But this is great.
Carrie goes into her room and comes out with the package from Mom and Max, and another one that came from Dad. There’s a third box that must have just arrived. I bet it’s from Aunt Pam. Her presents are always the funniest.
“Camp tradition says that birthday kids open their presents before breakfast,” Carrie tells me.
This is the most sensible rule I have heard in a long time.
The package from Mom and Max is heavy. I tear it open and find a huge box of homemade cookies with M&M’s in them. Taped to the cookie box is a big sign in Max’s handwriting . . . . . NUT FREE.
“That’s right,” Carrie says. “The only nuts in this camp are the kids in my bunk.”
We all throw pillows at her.
The heavy part of Mom and Max’s present turns out to be a box of books. I can tell they are books by their shapes. But I don’t know what books they are, because each one is wrapped separately.
“Boy, your mom is a whiz at wrapping,” Shannon says.
I smile. “No, Max did this. I can tell because the corners are so neat.”
“Who’s Max?” Grace asks. “Your brother?”
“No, my stepfather.”
I am startled when I say this. I realize it is the first time I have called Max my stepfather out loud. It makes me kind of wish he was here so I could give him a hug.
The first book I unwrap is The Black Stallion.
“Oh, that’s my favorite,” Carrie says. “I used it to learn English.”
By the time I am done unwrapping the books, it’s clear that Mom and Max must have paid attention when I wrote to them about how much I love riding Cinnamon. Every one of them is a horse book! I can’t wait to start reading them.
I decide to open Aunt Pam’s present next. I want to save Dad’s for last.
“I love that wrapping paper,” Cleo says.
“Dancing hippos are Aunt Pam’s style,” I tell her.
Under the paper is a medium-size box. I open it carefully, then burst out laughing.
“What is it?” Grace demands.
“Pooping reindeer!” I cry, holding up a box so they can see the label.
Hannah makes a face. “That’s disgusting.”
“Are you kidding?” Treasure says. “It’s hilarious. See? It poops little brown candies.”
“My aunt Pam is the queen of goofy gifts,” I say. “And she sent one for each of you!”
The girls cheer.
The “enough treats for everyone” rule is really about food, but Aunt Pam is the kind who would make it apply to presents too. Even better, when I get to the bottom of the box, I see an extra reindeer. On it is a yellow stickie that says, “For Justin.”
I love Aunt Pam.
Everyone thinks the pooping reindeer are a riot. Well, everyone but Hannah, but she takes hers anyway.
While my bunkmates are figuring out how to load the candies into the reindeer and then get them to poop out, I open the present from Dad.
It is the smallest box, but as Mom used to tell me when I was really little, sometimes good things come in small packages. That is definitely true in this case. Under the wrapping paper is a velvety blue box. Inside is a silver horseshoe on a delicate silver chain. It is decorated with tiny clear stones that sparkle in the morning light.
Tucked into the lid of the box is a folded-up piece of paper. It is a note from Dad.
Dear Amber—
Ten years ago you made me the happiest man on Earth by being born. I still feel that way. On this horseshoe, which is a sign of good luck, are ten tiny diamonds, to celebrate ten wonderful years of having the best daughter possible. Happy birthday to my girl.
Love,
Dad
I climb down from the bunk to look in the mirror.
“That’s so beautiful,” Cleo says as I put the chain around my neck.
“I’m never taking it off,” I say. “Horseshoes are good luck.”
• • •
When we get to the mess hall, I go to Justin’s table to give him his pooping reindeer.
“Let me guess,” he says. “Aunt Pam?”
I smile. “Naturally.”
Then I show Justin the necklace.
“It’s pretty,” Colin says.
“I’ve got M&M cookies for everybody on the boat ride,” I say.
“I’ve got a present for you too,” Justin says. He hands me something wrapped in aluminum foil. I wonder if he got his bunkmates to chew up some gum for our chewing gum ball, but when I open the foil, I find a lariat key chain.
“I made it myself,” Justin tells me. “It’s for the keys for your new house.”
“Thank you,” I say. “I love it.”
I kind of want to hug him, but it would feel weird in front of everyone. Or maybe just plain weird. We haven’t hugged each other since we were really little. I wonder how come it was okay for us to hug back then. I wonder why we stopped when we got older. I wonder if I will ever figure this stuff out.
I hear a familiar voice come over the loudspeaker. “Bulletin! Bulletin! Bulletin! This is WCTK, your friendly camp radio, coming to you live with an important announcement.”
Brandi loves getting to work on the camp radio program, which broadcasts our announcements every morning from a booth off the mess hall.
“TODAY IS MY FRIEND AMBER BROWN’S BIRTHDAY! So I am wishing her a big happy, happy birthday. Amber Brown is a most colorful character and a great friend.”
I blush. Then Brandi comes out of the radio booth and gives me a hug.
The
entire camp sings “Happy Birthday” to me.
This is so cool. And it’s even before the boat ride!
• • •
“All right, everyone,” Pete calls. “Make sure your life jackets are fastened before you get on the boat.”
“I hate wearing a life jacket,” Hannah mutters. “They just look so clunky, and I can swim perfectly well.”
As far as I am concerned, if Hannah doesn’t wear a life jacket, that is just fine. But I know the camp will not allow it.
I promise Brandi and Kelly that I will sit next to them on the boat. They can help me pass out the cookies from Mom and Max.
There are seats all around the edges of the boat. Toward the front is a raised area where the controls are. Miss Flo is sitting there. “Welcome aboard, Amber!” she calls. “Happy birthday!”
Last to board is Pete. “That’s it,” he shouts. “Twenty-four of Cushetunk’s finest campers, all secure and ready to go.”
Two other counselors are on the dock. They untie the boat. Miss Flo revs the engine and we’re off!
I love this ride! Sometimes it is a little bumpy, but that’s part of the fun. At first we stay fairly close to shore, but when we are about halfway around the lake, Miss Flo turns the boat toward the center. Then she switches off the engine. It is nice to have it so quiet.
It’s time to share my treats. Brandi and Kelly help me pass them out.
“I wonder if the Cushie Monster would like one of these,” Brandi says.
“Yeah!” Justin says. “I bet that the Cushie Monster loves M&M’s.”
“I’ve heard that the Cushie Monster only likes s’mores,” Kelly says.
“Your bunk knows about the Cushie Monster?” I ask. “Carrie told us it’s a secret.”
“I don’t think you should talk about it,” Hannah says. “Aren’t we in the deepest part of the lake?”
“Yes.” Treasure giggles. “The very deepest.” She breaks off part of a cookie and throws it into the lake. “This is for you, Cushie!”
The cookie makes a plop as it hits the water.
“Don’t do that!” Hannah cries.
We hear another splash, and I see that a big fish has risen to the surface. It gulps down the piece of cookie.
“Look!” I gasp. “I think that was one of the Cushie Monster’s tentacles.”
“That’s not funny!” Hannah snaps.
“You want funny?” Colin asks. “That reindeer your aunt gave Justin is the funniest thing I’ve ever seen.”
Kelly and Brandi snort when I tell them about the pooping reindeer. “I’ll have Aunt Pam send some for you for Christmas,” I promise.
Hannah is glaring at me as if she doesn’t like pooping reindeer, she doesn’t like the talk about Cushie, she doesn’t like Justin and Colin laughing with me, she doesn’t like that Brandi and Kelly are laughing too. She doesn’t like me.
I don’t care. I finger my horseshoe. I feel very lucky.
Chapter Eleven
Dear Aunt Pam,
Your pooping reindeer were a big hit! Thank you, thank you, thank you! All four bunks in my age group have decided that you are the coolest aunt in the universe. I already knew that, of course.
Did you ever go to camp? I bet you were everyone’s favorite camper. Did you do pranks? They seem to happen a lot around here. One night, someone put hair gel on my pillow . . . . . it really scared me because we had been talking about the Cushetunk Monster and I thought it was slime! I am pretty sure that Hannah Burton . . . . you remember, Little Miss Perfect who’s not so perfect . . . . . did that one.
Brandi and Kelly told me that someone in their bunk brought itching powder. They say that itchy isn’t that funny.
One day when my bunk got up, someone had taken everyone’s socks and put one sock from each pair in a scrambled pile in the middle of the floor. It took us half an hour to find the other socks . . . . . . . they were in a big laundry bag, hanging from a tree about ten feet from our cabin. That one was annoying, but it was also kind of funny. Since it happened to all of us, I don’t think it was any of the kids in our bunk who did it. Secretly I suspect it was our counselor, Carrie. She is wonderful, but I think she likes mischief. Maybe she thought that working together to rematch our socks would be what she calls a “bonding activity.”
I’m glad I’m not in Justin’s bunk. One night, someone sealed the toilet with plastic wrap. You can imagine what happened the first time one of the boys tried to pee!
I am learning to swim, which is pretty important when you are at camp. For one thing, unless you can swim eight laps . . . . . I can’t yet, but I bet I will soon . . . . . you can’t go out to the climbing raft, which is the coolest place at camp. I am definitely going to get there before the summer is over.
But the most important news is that I have found an activity that I love more than anything I’ve ever tried . . . . . . . horseback riding! I wish you could meet Cinnamon. That is the name of the horse I ride, and I love her.
I love you too.
You are the best aunt ever.
Your favorite niece,
Chapter Twelve
The curtain is about to go up on Cushetunk’s first talent show of the summer.
I, Amber Brown, do not have a talent. At least, not one I want to display onstage right now. I’ve been spending all my free time learning how to take care of Cinnamon, and I don’t think knowing how to shovel horse poop counts as a talent. If it did, I would be a star. According to Carrie, horses make about fifty pounds of poop a day.
Holy poop! Good thing it doesn’t all come out at once!
Justin is going to perform tonight. But he wouldn’t tell me what he is going to do. He said he wants it to be a surprise. “I am sure you’re going to like it,” he promised.
So I am ready to be the best audience ever. At least I think I am ready. Then the first act comes on. It is Hannah Burton doing her floor routine from gymnastics. She has glitter in her hair. I wonder if she saved it from my birthday celebration. She gets big applause when she does a backward double flip. I have to admit she is good. I applaud with everybody else.
Hannah puts her hand on her heart and smiles at us as if she was just crowned Miss Cushetunk.
I want to puke.
Most of the next acts are from the older kids. One guy plays guitar and sings a song he wrote himself. A tall girl juggles five balls. Two brothers do a tap dance.
I am just thinking that I would like to learn to tap-dance when Carrie comes onstage. Before she can say anything, Cleo runs up to her, shouting, “It’s all around me . . . . . it’s all around me!” She sounds terrified.
“What?” Carrie cries. “What’s all around you? WHAT’S ALL AROUND YOU?!?”
Cleo points to her stomach and shouts, “My belt!”
Carrie and Cleo crack up. So do we in the audience.
They take a bow.
Then Carrie says, “For our final act, Justin Daniels and Treasure Jackson have a song for you.”
Is this the surprise, that he’s doing a duet with Treasure? When did this happen?
Justin and Treasure stand side by side. Looking very serious, they start to sing. I recognize the tune immediately . . . . . it is the Camp Cushetunk song. Only they have written new words for it.
Cushetunk, our pet skunk,
You should not let your gas out!
Quick, the Glade!
He just sprayed!
I am likely to pass out.
Quick, hold your nose
Or you’re apt to die.
The stench grows ever stronger.
Cushetunk, our pet skunk,
We can take it no longer!
At the end of the verse, the two of them start to gag and cough. They stagger around in a circle, then collapse on the floor, twitching and pretending to choke.
&nb
sp; Everyone is laughing and clapping. I am sooooo proud of Justin. I should be proud of Treasure, too, I guess. Not only was the song the funniest thing ever, their voices sounded really good together. They must have practiced a lot. When did they do that . . . . . . . and how come I didn’t know about it? And why does thinking about it make me feel so strange?
I go backstage to tell Justin how great he was, but there is already a crowd around him and Treasure. When I finally I get to him, I say, “Justin, that was hilarious!”
His smile is so big you can see every bit of his braces.
I smile back. “Why didn’t you tell me you could sing? I mean, I knew you could sing . . . . . we do it in the car all the time. But I didn’t know you could sing like that! And in public!”
Justin shrugs. “When we moved to Alabama, Mom made me join the junior choir at our new church. She said it would be a good way to get to know people. It turned out that I love it. I even joined the chorus in school and had a part in our musical this spring.”
I am surprised and a little annoyed. Why didn’t I know about something that was so important to Justin? “You need to write to me more often,” I tell him.
Justin makes a face. “I’m not so good at that. Sorry.”
“So how did you and Treasure end up singing together?” I ask.
He shrugs again. “We just started goofing around on the climbing raft and came up with that song. The other kids out there thought it was so funny they talked us into doing it for the talent show.”
I’m happy for Justin, but a little upset too. Not just about Treasure, but that I still can’t swim well enough to be a raft kid. I wonder what else I am missing because I can’t go out there.
Then Hannah makes it worse. “We laughed our heads off when Justin and Treasure made up that song,” she says. “Too bad you weren’t there, Amber.”
Talk about skunks.
After the crowd breaks up, we head back to our bunk. When I climb onto my bed, I find an envelope on my pillow. Written on it is To Amber, From Her Secret Admirer.
I have never imagined having a secret admirer. Could it be from Justin? Part of me wants it to be . . . . . . . . part of me thinks that would be too weird.
Amber Brown Horses Around Page 4