Finding Cabin Six

by Missy Robertson

  “It’s possible in any family, Allie,” Mom said.

  “Well, either way, I think the Carroways should pay a visit to this Patterson Gables person.” I balled up a few socks and threw them in my suitcase.

  Mom’s eyes opened wide. “Allie, I think that’s enough socks.”

  “Yeah, but I could be mucking around in the mud this week, looking for ways to save the camp.”

  Mom pointed her index finger toward my chin.

  “Listen here, girl. You’re going as a camper, not a crusader. Got that? Let the grown-ups figure this out. You just pray.”

  I didn’t change my expression at all.

  “Allie . . .”

  “I’ll pray,” I said.

  “And take good care of Madison. Put yourself in her shoes. How would you like to be treated as if it were your first year at camp?”

  I nodded. “Yes, ma’am.” I reached into my top dresser drawer and pulled out more socks. “She’ll need these.”

  A long pause. Then Mom continued.

  “You’ll be out in the bayou with snakes and alligators. No mucking, sneaking, hiking, peeking, or even thinking about lurking around where you don’t belong.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  She took a deep breath.

  “Okay, then. I’m going downstairs to call Mamaw and Papaw and make sure they know about the pending sale of the camp. Then I’m meeting your dad at the new house for the walk-through with the builder. Do you want to come and see your room?”

  “Nah. I’ll wait till move-in day.”

  “Can we not talk about that sad topic anymore?” Kendall looked like she was going to cry.

  Mom walked over to Kendall and kissed her on the forehead.

  “My sweet niece, it’s been lovely living with you and your family. But we Carroways need our space.” Then she exited our room and was soon down the steps.

  I looked over at Kendall.

  “Mamaw and Papaw, and both our moms and dads met at Camp 99 Pines.”

  Kendall shot to her feet.

  “So, if it closes, we may never meet our future husbands.”

  I giggled and threw a balled-up sock at Kendall. “I thought you were going to marry Parker.”

  Parker is Madison Doonsberry’s twin brother. He’s much less complicated than Madison. Cute too.

  “Ah, yes, Parker! You’re right. Then let’s save the camp so you can meet your future husband, Allie. He might even be there this summer.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Hmm, yeah. And I’ll have six whole cabins of stinky, middle-school, creepy boys to choose from. It’s not happenin’.”

  “Did I hear you girls talking about me?”

  My cousin—Kendall’s younger brother Hunter—poked his sweaty head in the door. His blonde curly bangs were stuck to his forehead.

  “Oh, hey, Hunter. We weren’t talking about you. You’re family, so you’re exempt from the ‘creepy’ category.”

  Hunter stepped in and stuck out his chest. “I feel honored.

  Hey—do you think I’ll get made fun of if I bring my dinosaur pillowcase to camp?”

  “Oooooh. Don’t do it!” Kendall gritted her teeth.

  “Oh, please!” I stomped my foot on the ground. “It’s a Christian camp, people! Bring whatever you want, Hunter. They’ll adjust.”

  Hunter grinned. “Good. I’ll throw it in.” Then he disappeared.

  “Kendall, we can’t let Camp 99 Pines be turned into a boring neighborhood.” I checked my phone—9:30 a.m. It was almost time for our Saturday morning “Donuts-in-the-Split” meeting with all our preteen cousins. I gave Kendall a determined stare. “Text the cousins and tell them to get to the Lickety Split, lickety split!” I laughed. “We’ll all be at camp for a whole week. There’s gotta be something we can do! We just need to come up with a plan.”

  Kendall’s thumbs started whipping out texts.

  “Somethin’ tells me I need to pack more socks.”

  CHAPTER 2

  Allie Carroway– Camp Crusader

  It didn’t take long to gather all the cousins in our clubhouse—a tree house that we named the Lickety Split. Lola, Ruby, and Hunter joined Kendall and me on the patio by 9:45.

  “Allie, we were packing for camp. What’s so urgent?” Lola—who was sporting a yellow button-down shirt and fashionable army-green camp shorts with daisy piping down the sides—smoothed her hand through her shiny brunette bob with the pink streak.

  Ruby—her younger sister by only a year—leaned on the twisted branch railing around the patio and stared out toward the rolling hills in our neighborhood, her harvest orange braid hanging in front of her right shoulder. She was wearing jeans, of course, and last year’s Camp 99 Pines T-shirt.

  “I’m actually happy for the break. Lola has her whole closet spread out all over our room. I needed some fresh air.”

  “Is this urgent meeting about my dinosaur pillowcase?” Hunter asked.

  I lead my cousins through the front door, and we all took our regular seats in the Lickety Split. Kendall and I sat on the large, tan beanbag, Ruby and Lola plopped on the brown overstuffed love seat across from us, and Hunter leaned back, all peaceful-like, in the orange Adirondack chair in the corner.

  “Camp 99 Pines is up for sale,” I said. “And the owner wants to sell it to a housing developer.”

  Lola shrieked. “No! I haven’t met my husband yet.”

  Kendall crossed her arms. “Lola, that is not the point. This is about people findin’ Jesus.”

  Lola bit her lip. “I suppose you’re right. It’s just a Carroway tradition. One I don’t want to break.”

  “Then let’s figure out how to save it,” I said. “We’re clever and smart. And we’re on TV.”

  “And that helps us how?” Ruby asked.

  I tapped my fingers on the beanbag. “I’m not quite sure yet. But remember, we did raise all that money at the school carnival with the show’s help.”

  “But your mom said that Patterson Gables might not want to own a Christian camp.” Kendall got up and started pacing around. “So even if we raised enough money, he’d probably sell it to someone else anyway.”

  “It’s just so depressing,” Lola said. “To think that Camp 99 Pines won’t exist anymore.”

  Ruby sighed. “That’s my favorite place in the whole world.”

  “And I haven’t even been there yet,” Hunter said.

  We all just sort of sat there, moping. And then we heard a familiar whistle outside.

  It belonged to Uncle Saul—our Papaw Ray’s younger brother.

  “Hey—Carroway kids! Y’all up there?”

  I jumped off the beanbag and shot out to the patio.

  “Hey, Uncle Saul! Whatcha doin’ in our neighborhood?”

  “Lookin’ for trouble. You know of any?” He stroked his long gray beard and smiled up at me.

  My cousins joined me outside on the patio. Kendall whispered in my ear, “Should we tell him? Maybe he can help us come up with a plan.”

  “Nah. He can’t keep a secret.”

  Hunter rushed to the railing and shouted down before we had a chance to stop him. “Uncle Saul, did you know they’re selling Camp 99 Pines to a housing developer?”

  Uncle Saul put his hands out to both sides of his body, and his eyes popped open wide.

  “Sellin’ the camp? Ain’t gonna happen! God’ll stop that nonsense.”

  Then he walked away, whistling. Calm as could be.

  Kendall narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms. “He seems a little too relaxed, don’t you think?”

  Uncle Saul stopped and turned to look back at us.

  “No need to worry, kids! That camp’ll be around for another 99 years.”

  “Yeah,” I said to the cousins. “He must be up to something.”

  CHAPTER 3

  A Hopeful Word

  Eventually, you have no more room in your suitcase, so you cram in the last monkey, say a prayer that the zipper won’t break, and head to camp. />
  It was Sunday, right after we attended the early morning service at church, and Aunt Kassie had volunteered to drop us off at camp while the rest of the family celebrated our departure.

  At least I think they celebrated. I’m sure I heard Uncle Wayne yell as we all waved goodbye out the car windows: “Woohoo! Got rid of ’em! Let’s go eat! More food for us!”

  Twenty minutes into the trip, Lola pulled a crumpled list from her backpack.

  “I hope I didn’t forget anything.”

  She checked her paper list, and I went over the list in my brain. And as we rounded the corner on Route 99 that goes by Mamaw and Papaw’s house, it hit me.

  “I forgot to pack an extra Bible for Madison!” I tapped my Aunt Kassie on the shoulder from the back seat of the SUV. “Can we please stop at Mamaw’s?”

  My Mamaw Kat collects a lot of things—and books is at the top of that list. She’s filled many rooms in her house with books for us kids. My favorite “book” room is a building on the side of the house that she calls the Prayer Barn. I knew it would hold just the right Bible for Madison.

  “Yes, let’s stop!” Hunter rubbed his belly. “I’m hungry!”

  Aunt Kassie shook her head. “You kids.” She never said whether she would stop or not, but fifteen minutes later, she pulled up to the house. Mamaw was outside, throwing a tennis ball for her dogs, Andi and Barney.

  Mamaw put her hands to her cheeks.

  “This day just keeps gettin’ better and better!” She came over to hug us all as we got out of the SUV.

  “What’re y’all doin’ here?” She checked her watch. “Shouldn’t you be on your way to 99 Pines? Are ya hungry? I baked some cookies last night.”

  “I knew it!” Hunter ran up to the porch, threw open the screen door, and disappeared. Lola and Ruby followed.

  “Great,” Kendall said. “There go my chances for gettin’ a bottom bunk. Might as well have a cookie, then.” And off she went too.

  “Mamaw, can I borrow a Bible for Madison? She’s never been to a Christian camp before and she doesn’t have her own Bible yet. I was going to throw an extra one in my suitcase, but I forgot.”

  Mamaw put her hand on her heart.

  “Madison Doonsberry? She’s goin’ to Camp 99 Pines with y’all? That’s the best news I’ve heard all week.”

  I sighed. “If you say so. I’m a little worried about what’s gonna happen with her there. I’m not sure I really trust her yet, after that whole dog show disaster.”

  Mamaw put her hands on my shoulders.

  “I’ll tell you what’s gonna happen. That little girl’s gonna find out just how much Jesus loves her—and then you’ll see a beautiful change in Miss Madison Doonsberry.” Mamaw gestured toward the Prayer Barn. “You can borrow any Bible you like.”

  My Mamaw Kat is the most caring person I know in the whole world.

  My goal was to try to be caring, but Madison had done me wrong in the recent past, almost getting me fired as Student Project Manager of the Bark Fest Carnival and Dog Show—our school’s year-end fundraising event.

  “Thanks, Mamaw.” I climbed up the small hill on the side of the house, opened the screen door, and then pushed on the creaky wood one to get into the Prayer Barn. The familiar scent of books and cedar filled the air and reminded me of the hours I had spent sitting on the comfy brown sofa reading about Moses, Joseph and his brothers, David and Goliath, Joseph, Mary and Jesus, and taking peaceful breaks looking out the windows at the Ouachita River.

  “Let’s see, what Bible would be the best one for Madison?” I ran my finger along several book spines as I wandered around the bookshelves, and then stopped on a lavender one that said, “Holy Bible.” There was something about the look of that one. It was pretty, but a little roughed-up. Kinda like Madison.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you before,” I said to the Bible as I pulled it from the shelf. I opened the cover. It was old, all right. And on the front page, it had some scribbled handwriting:

  Dearest Katherine,

  In these pages, you will find everything you need for this life and the life to come. The Lord cherishes you. Never forget that!

  Sincerely,

  Audrey (Luke 15:4)

  “Allie-girl, did you find what you were lookin’ for?” Mamaw entered the Prayer Barn, and her eyes lit up when she saw the book I was holding.

  “Oh, my, that’s a treasure there.”

  I held the Bible open so she could see the first page.

  “Is this you?” I pointed to the name Katherine.

  Mamaw nodded. “Yep, that’s me. Not many people call me that anymore, though.”

  “And who’s Audrey?”

  Mamaw smiled.

  “Audrey Gables. She was my Sunday School teacher for about . . . hmmm . . . seven years, I think.”

  “Is this the same Audrey Gables who owns Camp 99 Pines?”

  Mamaw sat down on the sofa. “One and the same. You know, she was the one who shared the Good News about Jesus with me. I think I was about nine when I asked Him into my heart. And then Audrey gave me this Bible to take to camp when I was in high school. It was the very first year Camp 99 Pines was open, and she and her husband Quincy were so excited.” Mamaw leaned back into the sofa cushions and looked out the window. “It was a sad day when Quincy passed, and I’m heartbroken to hear that Audrey’s comin’ to the end of her life. She was a shinin’ light in mine.”

  I closed the Bible and handed it to her. “I’ll take a different Bible for Madison. You wouldn’t want anything to happen to this one.”

  Mamaw took the Bible in her hands and shook her head. “It’s not going to do any good sittin’ on that old, dusty shelf! The only good Bibles are the ones that get used.” Mamaw flipped through the pages. “Let’s see, I dropped this Bible in the mud, my friend Emma spilled hot chocolate on it, and if I remember correctly, I even left it outside once on a picnic bench and the sprinklers got it! Yep”—she flipped over to the book of Exodus—“here’s the ripply pages to prove it.” She held it out to me. “Take it, and if Madison wants, she can keep it. I’ll be prayin’ that it brings her some hope.”

  “Allie! Are ya comin’?” Kendall pounded on the screen door of the Prayer Barn. “We gotta get to camp and start decoratin’!”

  I closed the Bible and held it to my chest with both arms.

  “Thanks, Mamaw.”

  Mamaw smiled, stood, and gave me a hug. “Hey, maybe I’ll see ya on Friday when I’m out there for the reunion gala.”

  “That would be great! I’ll ask if I can come over and say hi.” I opened the squeaky screen door and stepped out, heading for Aunt Kassie’s SUV.

  “Oh, hey, Allie-girl. Can you drop somethin’ off for me to Miss Lindsey? She was askin’ for some pictures that show camp history, and I’ve got a whole scrapbook full of ’em.”

  “Sure, I’ll take it.” I followed Mamaw over to the house. And then a thought hit.

  “Mamaw—by any chance, did you know Audrey Gables’ son, Patterson?”

  Mamaw stopped in her tracks.

  “Did I know Patterson? Of course!” She scrunched up her nose. “He was a smelly little creep.”

  “A what?”

  Mamaw put her hand over her heart.

  “Oh, I’m sorry. That’s a rude thing to say.”

  I laughed on the inside.

  “I only called him that when he was in junior high. He started smelling much better in high school.” Mamaw put both hands on the sides of her mouth like she was going to tell me a big secret and whispered, “I even dated him for a couple of weeks.”

  My mouth dropped open.

  “You dated?”

  “Yeah. But then I found out that he wasn’t really interested in following Jesus. He was just fakin’ so I’d go out with him. So, I broke it off! That stinker—trying to close the camp now. We’ll see about that!”

  “Wow, Mamaw. You’re a real mystery lady sometimes.”

  “Oh, honey, you don’t
know the half of it.”

  She chuckled and then led me into the house and to the living room bookshelves, where she dug out a green scrapbook filled with yellowed pages of photos. She placed it carefully in a plastic bag, and handed it to me. I wanted to stay and ask her more questions about Audrey and Patterson, but the cousins were waiting, I had monkeys to hang in Cabin Five, and I had a treasured Bible to give to a girl I was trying to care about all while hoping and praying she would be in a different cabin—away from me.

  CHAPTER 4

  Roster Woes

  We did to Aunt Kassie what we do to every driver who has ever driven us out to Camp 99 Pines. We deserted her at the car with the luggage so we could run for the rosters.

  The cabin rosters are posted on the bulletin board in the middle of camp, right next to “the box,”—a square wooden platform with three steps up on all four sides—that functions as our meeting place before every meal.

  I couldn’t see the bulletin board at that moment because it was being crowded by a huge group of kids—all trying to get a glimpse of their names and cabin assignments.

  I ran toward it anyway. I was sure I could squirm in or flip-flop my way to the front.

  As I neared the back of the crowd, a ruffled redhead emerged from the scuffle.

  Madison.

  She was bleary-eyed and looked shell-shocked, but when she spotted me, she grinned.

  “Oh, Allie! Thank goodness, you’re here! I have no idea what to do next.”

  “What cabin are you in?” My stomach churned as I gritted my teeth.

  “We’re in cabin four,” she said. “Do you have any idea where that is?”

  We’re?

  “Daddy has my luggage over at the truck. Parker’s still in the fray.” Madison pointed to the crowd by the bulletin board.

  We’re?

  “Allie, are you okay? Are you sick?” Madison nudged me in the shoulder, which popped me out of the shock zone.

  “Uh, yeah. I’m okay. Just adjusting to the camp air, I guess.”

  “Did you bring your inhaler? You look pale.”

  Madison knows about my many allergies. She’s even made fun of me over them in the past, calling me Allie-Allergy.