“Not your fault, Janet. You can’t stop a freight train.”
She nodded knowingly and skimmed by on her way to join the others.
Holding his position, Mark stroked backward as the current pulled him forward. Finally, he heard the rowboat’s splash behind him, and Mark turned to spot a wet and scowling Lana, her hair straggling over her forehead like seaweed.
“Nice job,” he teased, hoping he’d get a smile.
“I was waist-deep in frogs,” she called. “Great big ugly things.”
“Could have been worse,” he said, following alongside the rowboat.
“Worse? Explain that to me.” Her arms flailed in a wild gesture.
Though he tried to control his amusement, Mark grinned, seeing her dripping and madder than—he chuckled at his appropriate imagery—a wet hen. “Better than snakes.”
Panic covered her face.
“You could have landed in a nest of water snakes.”
“You mean to tell me there are snakes here?” She clung to the wooden side and stared into the dark, rolling water. For a heartbeat, she lifted her gaze toward Mark, then returned her attention to the water. “You aren’t kidding, are you?”
His voice reverberated into the trees. “Come on, Lana. Would I kid you?”
As his canoe skimmed past her, Lana scowled darkly.
Eleven
Lana pulled her legs underneath the rowboat bench and glowered. She felt utterly humiliated. Of all the boaters, she had been the only one to fall into the river. . .and only one of the two adults who had ventured out in the canoes.
As the boat brought her closer to shore, the teens stood around their canoes moored in the sand and gaped at her. Her clothes clung to her like plaster, and her wet hair sagged around her face.
When the rowboat beached, Janet ran toward her, her face filled with apology, and Lana felt swamped by guilt. She had caused her own spill, not the teenager. Hoping to calm the girl, Lana pushed a grin onto her face.
Without seeming concerned about getting wet, Janet threw her arms around Lana’s neck. “I’m so sorry. I tried to stop you, but it was too late.”
“Janet, it wasn’t your fault. I did it to myself.” She patted the girl’s arm to calm her.
“I know but—”
“But nothing. You’d have fallen over yourself if you’d done anything else.” Lana stepped back from the girl, now nearly as wet as she was. “Thanks for trying to stop me. I’m not what you’d call a sailor.”
Mark slid next to them. “That’s a little fishy.” He grinned.
Lana lifted an eyebrow, acknowledging his corny joke.
“Now, now, don’t be a wet blanket,” he said.
Both eyebrows flew up while the campers grinned at their interaction.
Mark rested his arm against her damp shoulder. “Better yet, we’ve all heard of the Frog Prince. We could crown you the Frog Princess?”
Lana took a playful poke at his arm. “Watch out, or I’ll turn you into a wart.”
The teens cheered at her comment. Lana thrust her nose into the air and turned on her heel as she snagged Janet by the arm. “We’re not appreciated here, Janet. Let’s find better company.”
Janet grinned as they headed toward the picnic table where the hungriest campers were unloading the coolers.
A small group of teens gathered around Janet, and Lana couldn’t avoid hearing their conversation.
“Great save,” Teri said.
“You really know how to keep your canoe from flipping,” Don added.
Sara poked Jason in the side. “Next time, I vote for Janet in my canoe. You nearly flipped us twice.”
“I did not,” Jason said, looking indignant.
Don shifted forward and moved to Janet’s side. “Next time, Janet can be in my canoe. . .if you’d like,” he said to her. A faint tinge of nervousness slid up his neck, but he stood his ground.
“Sure,” Janet said, her own flush rising to her cheeks. Her gaze fastened to Lana’s as happiness settled on her face.
“Let’s eat,” someone called.
Lana smiled, watching Janet being pulled along by the chattering teens, and she was touched by Don’s interest in the girl. She raised her eyes heavenward and sent up a prayer of thanks. Looking toward the picnic table, Lana noticed that Janet had melted into the crowd. She herself longed to melt into the earth in her sodden, river-smelling garb.
She waited until the crowd had settled on the grass with their fruit and sandwiches until she wandered to an empty picnic table to slip off her waterlogged sneakers and socks. The air felt warmer on her water-soaked feet. Leaning her elbow on the plank tabletop, Lana rested her cheek against her fist, scrutinizing the noisy, fun-loving teens. Though hungry, her appetite had been squelched by the frogs.
The days she’d spent at camp skittered through her thoughts like mice in a cheese factory. Mark’s kiss lingered in her mind, the tender warmth that left her heart jogging. Other memories were not so pleasant, like her marshmallow drama or the spill in the river. But through it all, she’d learned a lesson. When things went wrong, she seemed to be at the helm. Breakfast could have been a disaster—God had graciously gotten her out of that one—and her fall from the canoe could have left her or someone else injured.
Why did she always have to take over? She needed to work on that. Even more, she needed to pray about it instead of tackling it alone.
Lana looked around for Mark and saw him near the rowboat. She felt alone and wondered why he hadn’t come to talk with her. She feared he was angry with her foolishness.
With that concern still in her thoughts, she heard Mark’s voice. Did he call her name? She glanced around to see what he wanted. He stood away from the others, holding a dark green plastic bag and beckoned to her. She rose and walked to him, dragging her bare feet through the grass.
“Hey, Pal,” he said, brushing her damp hair away from her cheeks. “How would you like some dry clothes?”
She looked at him, wondering what he meant. “Where would I get dry clothes?”
He held out the plastic bundle. “I came prepared.”
She opened the bag and peeked inside. “What’s this?” She fingered the garments. “Your clothes?”
“Just a pair of jogging shorts and a T-shirt. The shorts have a drawstring. I threw them in at the last minute—just in case.”
“You figured I’d do something stupid. Right?”
“It could have been anyone. I thought you’d prefer to be dry.”
She accepted his explanation and was touched by his thoughtfulness. “That was nice of you. Thanks.”
Lana looked around, wondering where to change, and spotted a wooded area nearby. She flagged Janet.
When the girl arrived, Lana showed her the plastic bag. “How about standing guard while I change?”
Janet’s face brightened. “I’ve been wishing I could do something since you fell in. This is easy.”
She followed Lana toward the wooded area, and while Lana hid behind a tree, sliding out of her clothes and into Mark’s, Janet watched for intruders.
“I’ll be dressed in a minute,” Lana said, dragging the clinging, wet clothes from her body.
“I don’t mind,” Janet said. “I’ve wanted to talk with you alone anyway. This gives me a chance.”
“Oh?” Lana said, curious what the girl had to say.
“I wanted to thank you for talking to me when we first got here. You don’t know how much it meant to me,” Janet said.
Lana stopped a moment, wanting to run over and hug the girl, but her state of undress held her back. “It wasn’t me, Janet. When the girls came in and saw you upset, their concern let you know they cared. And that changed you. I’m thrilled it happened.”
“The best part is I feel better. I’m not afraid to be who I am. . . even at school. I know it’ll still hurt me when kids act bogus, but I’ll know I have friends at church and, best of all, I know I have a friend in Jesus. . .like you said.”
<
br /> “What you just said couldn’t make me happier.” Lana thought about Don and wondered if she should bring up the subject.
“And then Don’s been so nice,” Janet added
Lana’s smile blossomed behind the girl’s back. “I wanted to say something about that but hesitated. He’s a nice boy. And sensitive.”
“I know. He’s told me about his family. It’s great to have someone to talk to. Wait until I get home and tell my parents how glad I am I came here.”
Dropping her soggy clothes into the plastic bag, Lana stepped from behind the tree and slid her arm around the girl’s shoulder. “Isn’t God awesome?”
“He sure is,” Janet said.
With private grins, they headed back to the others.
Lana returned to the picnic table, and after she gathered up her shoes, Mark arrived with two sodas in one hand, three sandwiches in the other, and apples bulging from his pockets. “You feel okay?”
She saw no silly grin on his face for once, only his tender gaze. “I’m drier now. Other than that, my ego’s a little injured, but I’m fine.”
“Here.” He offered her a sandwich, then set everything else on the table. “I’ll say a blessing before we eat.”
Earlier Lana had watched others around the park doing the same, bowing their heads in prayer with their hands joined. She liked the custom. She’d never prayed that way before the camping trip, and the act filled her with a sense of Christian fellowship. Maybe that’s what she’d never experienced—a true sense of the communion of saints.
Mark slid onto the bench and took her hands in his. They bowed their heads, and Mark quietly prayed, giving thanks for the food and the day. Before he ended, he added a postscript. “Oh, and Lord, thank you for Lana’s safety. And Father, could You help this woman learn that You are the captain of the ship? Teach her to trust in others and in You.”
Saying amen, he squeezed her fingers, then grabbed a sandwich from the table and tore off the wrapper. “I’m starving.” He bit into the bread, then paused and peered at her. “Not hungry?”
“Thinking, I guess.” With an effort, she pulled herself from her thoughts. She took time unwrapping the waxed paper she’d folded so carefully around the bread and meat earlier that day.
“Thinking what?” Mark asked.
“What you said about teaching me to trust others, because the same idea sailed into my mind a few minutes ago.”
“Lana, you’re a sweet lady—”
“But with a few minor flaws,” she said, tucking her damp hair behind her ear.
“But only a few,” he said. “And very minor.”
❧
Exhausted, Lana stood in her cabin, pleased the one-shower schedule gave the women’s cabins priority to use the facility in the evening. On the ride back from the canoe trip, her frazzled thoughts had focused on taking a shower. She slipped off Mark’s damp clothes, wrapped herself in her robe, and darted the few yards to the shower building. Even the cold water running over her tired body felt good, and when she dried and dressed in clean clothes, she felt human again.
Outside, the campers gathered on the grass, waiting for the dinner bell and reliving the events of their afternoon canoe trip. Lana noticed Janet sitting with Don and enjoyed being a witness to their blossoming relationship. The excitement on the river had made Janet more popular among the group, and little by little, she was coming out of her shell.
Mark joined Lana, smelling of herbal soap and wearing clean clothes. Though he’d been deprived shower privileges, she knew he’d done his best to freshen up.
“You look good,” he said, sinking onto the grass beside her.
“I feel better. And look,” she said, nodding slightly toward Janet.
“A budding romance. That’s nice.”
“They’re two people who need each other,” Lana added.
Mark’s fingers slid over hers resting in the grass. “I know two other people in the same boat.”
“You mean canoe,” she said, making a joke to hide her pleasure.
“Now who’s the one joking about something serious?” He squeezed her hand.
The dinner bell rang, saving her from admitting he was right, and Mark rose and helped her from the ground. They joined the campers heading inside and took their seats in the dining hall. A wonderful aroma drifted from the kitchen.
“I wonder if it really smells that good or if I’m starving?” Lana asked
“Both, I think.” He leaned over close to her ear. “But you smell best. Fresh, soapy, and wonderful.”
“Probably because I reeked earlier.”
“Never,” he said, brushing his finger over her skin.
The sensation filled her with simple pleasure. Never had she had such a sense of partnership and sharing.
When almost everyone had arrived, Mark stood and surveyed the group of upturned faces. “Thank you for the safe and fun day. I’m proud of all of you. You followed the rules, and we’re all back in one piece.”
Lana heard a few titters and knew they were aimed at her.
Mark glanced down at her, and the laughter rose a couple decibels. “I should say most everyone followed the rules.”
The room rang with laughter until Lana’s voice brought a hush. “I plead the Fifth,” she said, which revitalized the clamor.
Mark quieted the group. “Okay,” he continued, “whose turn to say our blessing?”
When Janet raised her arm, Lana held her breath.
Mark’s eyes widened, apparently as surprised as Lana. “Great. Janet volunteered.”
He extended his arm toward Lana. She took his hand and offered her other hand to the person on the her right while the teens did the same, linking the entire room. To Lana’s surprise when everyone bowed their heads, Janet began to sing. Her sweet, clear voice filled the room, and before she reached the second line, others had joined her.
They began a second verse, and by the end, even those who may not have known the song joined in the last line. Compliments filled the room when Janet finished, and Lana sent her own silent thanks to heaven as the girl graciously thanked those around her.
Lana studied the young people, different in many ways from her high school students. What made the difference? The answer struck her like a dart in a bull’s-eye. God made the difference. These teens weren’t afraid to demonstrate their faith. They acted out what God expected. Then she turned her thoughts inward. Did she? After these new experiences, Lana knew she had a place to start, and that would make the difference in her.
The Lord is good to me, Lana thought. So good. And I don’t deserve any of it, and that’s what makes me all the more grateful.
❧
Mark lay in his bunk and thought about the past week. The camp outing had helped him to become acquainted with the teens, and watching them grow in their relationships with Christ and each other had filled him with joy. What could be better in life than to be part of that experience?
With each new day, serving the Lord filled Mark with greater joy—a joy he couldn’t explain—and feelings washed away his inner concern that he had made a bad career choice. God had strengthened his confidence.
To his great happiness, he’d gotten to know Lana even better. She brought smiles to his face with her abundant energy. . .though often that energy was aimed in the wrong direction. Somehow Mark sensed that God had directed him to her. Since they’d arrived at camp, he knew both he and Lana had changed in miraculous ways.
Struggling to fall asleep, Mark reviewed the ups and downs of the first week, reminding himself the last half of their stay began the next morning. After one silly prank in his cabin—a frog hidden in Jason’s duffel bag—he had given the entire group a lecture on shaving cream in the sleeping bags and plastic wrap on the toilets. He’d planned ahead and prayed he’d thought of everything. At least, he hoped he had. Mark finally closed his eyes, looking forward to a fun-filled day the next morning.
During the night, the sound of heavy rain awaken
ed Mark. Grateful that the camp had indoor activities if needed, he forced his eyes to stay closed, but within minutes, the heavens disturbed the silence. Cracks of lightning and the rumble of thunder jarred Mark again. Slipping out of his bunk, he tiptoed to the cabin window and peeked outside between the shutters.
A grand lightning display played above the soggy grass and rugged buildings. The dirt paths had turned to muddy rivers, and he wondered what the morning would hold.
“What’s happening?” a voice asked from the darkness.
Mark heard the shuffle of a sleeping bag and then the patter of feet as the boy approached him.
In the light zigzagging through the window, Mark recognized Don. “Can’t sleep?”
He shook his head. “At home noise like this is too familiar.”
Though Lana had told Mark the boy’s story, he shook his head as if he didn’t understand.
Don explained about his family problems in a hushed whisper, limiting facts but getting the point across. “Coming here has been great.” He leaned his back against the wall. “I needed friends, and when Miss W. . .when Lana invited me to come to church, I sloughed it off. But like I said before, something made me get up that morning, and I’ll never be sorry.”
“I’m glad,” Mark said. “You’ve been a great addition to the camp.”
“Thanks. I’ve made a lot of friends.”
Mark nodded, giving the boy space to talk.
“You know what’s really nice?” Don asked.
Mark rested his back against the wall and shook his head.
“Janet.”
“Good company?” Mark asked, thinking of his feelings about Lana.
“That too, but she understands my problems. I guess that means more to me than anything. . .except the Bible studies. They’ve helped me focus on what’s really important. Things won’t be perfect at home, but I think I’ll be able to handle it better.”
Mark clasped the boy’s shoulder. “That’s the important thing, Don. You have friends and you have God. That makes life different.”
The teen yawned and stretched. “Thanks,” he said. “I’ve been wanting to say that.”
Over Her Head (Truly Yours Digital Editions Book 489) Page 13