Madison crawled out of her bed. She was still dressed in her clothes from last night, and her hair was frizzy and sticking up all over. I grabbed a hair tie off my shelf and helped her gather it in a high ponytail. Then I took her buff and pulled it over her head, using it as a wide headband. I stuffed her ponytail inside it.
“There. That’ll keep the mud out of your hair.”
Madison grinned. “Thanks.”
I handed her another pair of my socks. “Here. There are a million more where those came from.”
Madison sat down on my bed to slip the socks on. “My shoes are outside by the steps.”
I grimaced. “Check ’em for crawly things before you put them on.”
“Okay. Allie, do you really consider me a friend?”
Lord, help me answer this well.
I smiled. “Of course. You tend to bond with a person when you’re shoved under a building with them for half a night.”
It was a muddy Survivor morning. With tons of pancakes lodged like bricks in our guts, our teams competed in mud tug-o-wars, mud relays, mud runs, and mud fights. Lucky for us this was the day when the boys from Cabin Six were part of our team. By lunch time, we were ahead of the next best team by twenty-million points.
A water truck came along to spay us all down. The cool water felt great as the humid Louisiana day heated up.
Chef Gumbo and his staff had prepared a hot dog barbeque for us out on recreation field one. No way were they letting us inside with how messy we all were.
The great thing about picnics at Camp 99 Pines is you get to sit with whoever you want. And after we all went through the food line, the “Operation Dinger” team ended up sitting together in a circle in the shade on the sidelines of the field.
“Johan’s looking over at us,” Hunter said. “Do you think he suspects?”
“Keep your eyes in the circle, Hunter.” Kendall pushed her brother’s cheek to turn his head in a different direction. “Y’all were in your cabins when they blew Taps, and if he asks, you left your cabin to go to the bathroom ’cause that’s what y’all did, right?”
“I’m a terrible liar,” Ruby said.
“Ruby, this is a camp game. We call it bluffin’.”
“Then I’m a terrible bluffer.”
“Then evade all questioning,” Madison said. “Feign homesickness or start scratching your bug bites. Anything to throw him off.”
“He’s comin’ over here!” Kendall took a hot dog off her plate and shoved it in Ruby’s mouth. “There. Now just keep chewin’.”
“Well, hello, campers.” Johan walked around our circle, his hands clasped behind his back. “This is rather odd. We’ve got members of . . . let’s see . . . (he started flicking our buffs) Team Pinkeye, Lightning Rods, and Scarlet Fever—all havin’ lunch together? That’s not somethin’ that normally happens on Survivor Day.”
I swallowed a bite of potato chip and decided to call his bluff.
“Hey, I miss my cousins. We all got assigned to different cabins this year but we’re trying to be good sports about it.”
All true.
“And I actually do miss my twin brother sometimes.” Madison grinned and punched Parker in the shoulder.
“Aww, Madi. You’re the best.” Parker reached over and pinched her cheek.
Johan walked around again, giving us all a raised eyebrow.
He stopped at Nathan.
“You don’t seem like you’re from around here. What’s your name?”
Nathan grinned and took a sip of his lemonade. “I’m from California.” Then he stood and reached out a hand to shake Johan’s. “My name’s Nathan Fremont. Allie’s brother Ryan is my science teacher and he invited me to come check out the camp. It’s been great so far.”
Man, that dude is charming!
And it seemed to work. Johan backed down.
“Well, I’m glad you’re all having a nice lunch. What a strong, cohesive group you all seem to be!” Johan nodded his head and looked us over. “Well, that’s gonna be important, ya know, ’cause this afternoon? It’s gonna be tough . . .”
And then he turned and jogged away.
Kendall exhaled loudly.
“Whoa! That was stressful. He’s got us figured out, I just know it.”
Parker smiled and patted Kendall on the shoulder. “He’s just bluffing, Kendall. Everything is going to be fine.”
Kendall’s face turned about the reddest I’ve ever seen it. Then she got up and started walking away.
“Gotta go scratch my bug bites.”
I tried not to laugh. This had been such a crazy week. And it was only Tuesday.
It turned out to be the most strenuous Survivor Day afternoon I had ever experienced. Each team was given a list of items located all over the camp that we had to find in two hours—like a scavenger hunt. The materials we were given to help complete the task consisted of a couple shovels, three potato sacks, two buckets, and a water bottle for each person.
“There are no rules except to stay off the west side of the property.” Hawk was the one giving out the rules this time. “And stay away from snakes. DO NOT try to kill them. Unless you’re a counselor.”
We only had five minutes to formulate a strategy. The list of items to retrieve included heavy things, like heart and mushroom-shaped rocks, old anchors, and pieces of bench from the scrap pile that had specific words engraved on them. We also had to collect exactly five pounds of sand from the volleyball court, weighing it at a scale located on the porch of the nurse’s hut. Then we needed to decipher clues to uncover five buried letters, bring all the items to the pool house, unscramble the letters to make a word, and carry our entire team and the items across the pool on a humongous pool float.
Oh, no! The pool?
“Okay, teams . . . time’s up! On your mark, get set . . . go!”
Our strategy was to send Boys’ Six and Four off to get the heavy stuff, and we girls took the shovels and clues to find the letters.
“Let’s win this thing!” Blaze shouted, and the boys followed him, yelling a war cry.
“I’m glad we have Boys’ Six with us today,” Bliss said. “But it’s gonna take us longer to get everyone across the pool.”
“And we need to get there first so we can hide the dinger again,” I said.
“I can’t dig anymore!” Madison wiped her forehead with the back of her hand, smearing dirty grit across her freckles. Then she threw the shovel down.
“Ugh! I hate dirt!” She crumpled to the ground. “I’ll never get it all off!”
Shelby grabbed the shovel, gave it a couple of tough pushes into the ground, and then we heard a click.
“Got the next letter!” Shelby grinned and Ruby, Hayley, and Julia reached into the hole to start digging the letter M out of the ground.
We laid it out next to the other four letters we had dug up:
R, Y, E, C.
“Creamy?” Julia said.
“Not without an A.” I scratched my head. “But I would sure love to eat something creamy right now.”
“Ice cream.” Madison still sat in a heap on the ground and whined, “Please find me some.”
I reached out to grab her hand and lift her up. “Not yet, sister. First, we have to deliver these letters to the pool house and hope the Lightning Bolts and our Pinkeye brothers did what they were supposed to do.” I checked my watch. “We’ve only got thirty minutes left.”
We ran, slow and tired, but made it to the pool house in five minutes. Surprisingly, we were the first group to arrive.
Johan met us at the gate. He was holding up a round metal thing.
“You ladies know anything about this?”
I squinted and stepped a little closer to inspect the dinger. It had something scratched in it that I hadn’t seen the night before.
Scratched into the center of the dinger was a familiar phrase—G6! Note to self: Ask Mamaw if she ever stole the dinger out of the bell!
Seconds later, a huge gro
up of dirty campers came running down the path toward the gate—some lugging sand-filled buckets and others with potato sacks weighed down with rocks, slung over their shoulders.
The Lightning Bolts from boys’ Cabin Six led the pack.
But the Pinkeye boys weren’t anywhere in sight.
And we needed our whole team to be there to get on the raft.
“Can I help with those?” Nathan took the letters from me and sorted them out on the pool deck.
Y—C—M—R—E.
Julia rearranged the letters.
C—R—E—M—Y
“See, I told you it wasn’t Creamy.”
Madison took a turn.
R—E—C—M—Y
“Wreck Me. That’s it! That’s what this camp is trying to do to me!”
“Check this out.” Parker grabbed the M with his dirty hands, moved it to the front, and then adjusted some of the other letters.
M—E—R—C—Y.
Mercy. That was it.
“Yes! Maybe they’ll finally show us mercy and let us quit this terrible game.” Poor Madison. I’d never seen her so tired and frazzled.
Teams began shouting out their words. “Grace!” “Power!” “Risen!” “Alive!”
All great words. Ones I’m sure would be mentioned at tonight’s campfire talk.
But first we had to get our raft across the pool.
Finally, the Pinkeye boys arrived. One boy had to drag his potato sack the whole way. He had found what had to be the biggest heart-shaped rock on the planet.
“Hey, it counts, right?”
“You bet,” Johan said. “But unfortunately, your team will be the last to cross the pool.”
Our only hope for points was if some of the other teams tipped over. And that hope was dashed in a matter of ten minutes, as Scarlet Fever, Hurricane 99, the Swamp Rats, and the Solar Flares all made it across—without anyone even getting so much as a foot in the water.
And then to add insult to injury, right as our team was almost settled and ready to float across the pool for last place, Dylan Sharpie—the biggest boy on Team Pinkeye—decided to do a cannonball onto the middle of the raft, sending all of us and most of the stuff splashing into the pool.
“We were losing anyway,” was his reasoning.
It was a moment that would certainly be included in the end of the week video. But it was also a moment that could send Madison Doonsberry running to the camp office to call her dad to take her home.
I searched for her amid the splishing and splashing mayhem in the pool. I dove under the raft to make sure she wasn’t drowning. I checked on all four sides—no Madison. And then I thought of something and checked the top.
There she was, holding on for dear life, hugging on to that huge heart rock that was anchoring everything down in the middle.
I pulled myself up, and climbed over to where she was, smiling, but with wet drippy hair poking out of her buff and hanging in her face.
“Did I survive Survivor Day?” she asked.
I laughed. “The competition part? Yes. But the ‘day’ isn’t over.”
“Mercy, Grace, Power, Risen, Alive . . .”
Pastor Bo said the words slowly, carefully. “We don’t want you to ever forget these words. That’s why we had you dig them up and carry them around! We’re going to talk about each of these words over the next few nights. But right now, let’s focus on the first one—mercy. Anyone know what it means?”
“Mercy is when you choose to forgive and not punish someone—even when they deserve it.” Great answer from Phoenix Ryan. He’s a pastor’s kid from my town. I think his dad pays him to know stuff like that.
“Like Dylan deserved a million noogies for sinking our raft?” Another boy—Max from Team Pinkeye—grabbed Dylan by the head and a few of his teammates started working him over with their knuckles.
Bo laughed. “Exactly right. Dylan deserves noogies! But you’re not exactly extending mercy right now, are you?”
“Oh.” Max let Dylan go. “I guess not. But . . .”
“But, what? He did a dumb thing? He lost points for the team? He got everyone wet? He dumped a bucket of sand in the pool and Ducky had to clean it all out?”
Dylan hung his head. “Oh, man, I’m sorry. I couldn’t help myself. I guess I didn’t think . . .”
Bo waved the comment off. “No big deal, Dylan. You’re giving me a great illustration here.”
Dylan straightened back up and grinned.
Bo continued. “Remember how we talked about sin last night and how it separates us from God? Well, here’s what I want you to consider tonight. The apostle Paul—that same follower of Jesus we mentioned the other night, wrote this in a letter to his friend, Titus:
‘When God our Savior revealed his kindness and love, he saved us, not because of the righteous things we had done, but because of his mercy. He washed away our sins, giving us a new birth and a new life through the Holy Spirit.’”
Maestro got up and began strumming softly.
“Boys and girls, God wants to forgive your sins. He wants to bless you with his mercy. And you can ask for that right now and have a new life in Jesus Christ.”
I watched Madison lean over to ask Bliss something. I was so excited for her. This would be her moment—I knew it. Today was the day she would become God’s forgiven child. Finally.
Bliss nodded her head and Madison got up and walked away from the amphitheater.
What?
I scribbled a note and had Ruby pass it over to Bliss. Bliss scribbled a note and passed it back:
Where’s Madison going?
To the bathroom.
No, she wasn’t! Madison hates the bathhouse. She’d rather have her bladder explode than visit that place more than a couple times a day.
She didn’t go to the bathroom.
She just escaped from God’s invitation—that’s what she did.
But why? Why would anyone run away from you, God?
I looked up at the sky and prayed for understanding, and right at that moment I saw a shooting star.
Don’t worry, Allie. I’m going after her.
When we got back to the cabin later that night, there was a note attached to the ladder leading up to Madison’s bunk.
Sorry I left the talk. Exhausted. See you all in the morning.
Hmmm. Yeah. I guess today had been a tiring day, especially after getting so little sleep the night before. Yes, that’s what happened. She just needed her rest. The poor girl was spent.
“Good night, survivor,” I said to the lavender lump on the top of the bed.
Then, a little later, after we had all brushed our teeth and Bliss turned out the last light, I heard, “Good night, friend.”
CHAPTER 20
Water Day
Water Day could quite possibly turn out to be my favorite day at camp,” Madison said as she pulled her purple beach towel and purple-and-pink one-piece swimsuit out of her third suitcase. “No dirt, right? I can handle that.” She stretched and yawned. “And I sure got a good night’s sleep.”
Tired girls slid off their bunks, not quite ready to start the day. I startled when I heard a familiar sound at 7:45—the bell!
“The dinger has been recovered!” Bliss laughed. “Imagine that! I wonder who took it.”
Selective amnesia. That would be the key to surviving the rest of the week without giving away our secret.
Dinger? What dinger?
“Bathe in sunscreen today, girls. And put your swimsuit on now, with clothes over it for breakfast time since you may not have time to come back and change. See ya’ll in the serving line!” Bliss bolted out of the cabin.
“Don’t make eye contact with Johan at the box,” I said. “We know nothing and we did nothing. Got it?”
I looked around at my Operation Dinger comrades. They nodded, pretended to zip their lips, and we headed off to the morning gathering.
“Good morning, campers!” Johan searched the crowd with a crazed glare. �
��And aren’t you glad you weren’t awakened by an airhorn this morning? Yes, our bell is back in action, and I need your help. It seems that a cabin—or several cabins—outsmarted me, and I’m not a fan of LOSING. So, here’s a deal for all of you: anyone who comes to me with solid evidence that proves who the dinger stealers are, will earn fifty-million points for their cabin. That’s substantial, boys and girls.”
Ugh. Remember you have amnesia, people.
“And even if it was your cabin, I’ll still award you the points. Being cabin champs is that important. You’ll get your names engraved on the Camp 99 Pines champ wall, you’ll be able to sleep in the tree house the last night of camp, and all the staff will be making you the best last night feast you can imagine.” He looked around the crowd again. “Any immediate takers?”
Everyone stayed quiet. I didn’t even dare look at Girls’ Five or Boys’ Six. Even if I did want to wave at Nathan.
“Okay, then—my offer is good today and tomorrow. You can even write down your evidence and submit it anonymously. Just remember to write what cabin you’re in.”
He’s raising the stakes. Not fair, Johan!
Even if we ratted ourselves out to get the points, it wouldn’t keep Bliss and Blaze from being thrown in the swamp.
Everybody, just stay cool.
“Okay,” Johan changed his countenance back to silly morning goofball. “Someone come up here and say a prayer for the day and for the food.”
Ruby jumped up on the box. “Thank you, Lord, for keeping us all safe yesterday at Survivor Day and especially be with those who are still considering whether they should ask you into their lives. Thank you for our food, for Camp 99 Pines, and for an opportunity to be your servants today. In Jesus’ name, amen.”
We sang the Doxology, and this time Madison even belted out a few words. I wondered if she knew what “ye heavenly hosts” meant. Funny, I never realized how confusing things could be at a Christian camp until I started looking at them from Madison’s point of view.
As we were being dismissed by cabin to go get breakfast, I spotted those three grownups again with my peripheral vision. Ellen, the realtor, Mr. Possible Camp Buyer Guy, and Patterson Gables.
Finding Cabin Six Page 10