I’ll admit that I feel guilty. But I’m not quite sure why. I mean, it’s not like God wants me to be fat. All I have to do is look at Penny to know that she’s miserable. Is God pleased with that? I don’t think so. But then I look at Jenna, and while she looks pretty and thin, she does not look happy either. And I guess this worries me.
As her counselor, I’m thinking maybe I should talk to her about her eating habits. I mean, it’s one thing to eat like I am when you’re overweight and trying to slim down. But Jenna is already thin. Maybe even too thin. She really should eat more. But how can I confront her without feeling slightly hypocritical? I ask God to guide me in this. I pray that he will use me with all these girls. Part of being a counselor is committing to pray for the kids in your cabin on a regular basis. And I am faithfully doing this. I even pray for Kendra. Okay, sometimes my prayers aren’t so nice. But I think God understands.
On Friday, I sneak into the nurse’s office under the guise of asking for some more ointment for Penny, which isn’t completely false since she told me she’s almost out. Fortunately, the nurse isn’t even there, so I am able to get back onto the scale again and, to my relief, I have lost two pounds. I realize this is only breaking even, taking me back to where I was before I came to camp, but it’s better than gaining.
I’m back to my old regime now, drinking lots of water, exercising every chance I get, and then pretty much not eating anything that has calories. I sort of miss the bingeing-and-barfing days, since there is something satisfying about actually putting food in your mouth and consuming it, even if only briefly. But I reassure myself that at least this will protect the enamel on my teeth. That’s something. So, for the most part, I’m feeling pretty good, like I’m on top of things again.
Except for when it comes to the girls in my cabin. That’s where I think I’m failing. I even brought it up with Pastor Ray. I told him about how divided my cabin was, how the “cool” girls were making everyone else miserable, and that I didn’t know what to do.
He just smiled. “Don’t be too hard on yourself, Emily. Unfortunately, this comes with the territory for most middle-school girls. There are always the ones who want to torture the others. But usually it’s because they’re feeling tortured themselves. If you can get the mean girls to open up, you might discover what’s making them hurt.”
“What if I can’t?”
He just shrugged. “Then you can’t. Just remember that God can. And he can use anything. Whether you can see it or not, there’s probably something good that’s going to come out of this.”
“I hope so.”
“And don’t forget your best weapon.”
“Weapon?”
“Prayer. When all else fails, or even succeeds, prayer can change things.”
I thank him and tell him that I need to go get my girls from activity time. The theme for activities is “Survivor” (a spin-off from the reality show on TV). The tribes start out by cabin, then after each contest the director combines the tribes until eventually there are only two huge groups. We’re still in the first stage, so the girls in my cabin are one tribe. Today is the water-challenge day, and I know that Penny is really worried about having to wear her swimsuit. She covered herself with a big T-shirt, but I know she’s feeling very uncomfortable about actually getting wet. The funny thing is that Jenna, our skinny girl, also wore a T-shirt over her swimsuit. Unfortunately, I doubt that made Penny feel any better. I just hope that Kendra and Faye haven’t been teasing her.
I consider what Pastor Ray said about prayer being my weapon. Maybe he’s right. Maybe I haven’t been praying hard enough. Or maybe my prayers aren’t getting through. I vaguely wonder if this could have to do with the way I’m eating, or rather not eating. Because despite my justifications, I do feel guilty about it sometimes. Like, why do I have to be so sneaky if there’s nothing wrong with what I’m doing? And why does it worry me when I notice Jenna glancing at me, as if she’s suspicious?
But then I remind myself of how people fast and pray to get God’s attention. Why can’t that be what I’m doing? And so I decide that I will just look at it like this: I am simply fasting and praying for my girls. Shouldn’t that make a difference? Shouldn’t that change things?
ten
WHEN I FIND MY GIRLS, OR RATHER HALF OF THEM, I CAN TELL SOMETHING’S wrong. Penny is soaking wet and sobbing, and Hilary looks furious. Chelsea appears to be trying to comfort both of them.
“What’s up?” I ask with some hesitation, unsure whether I really want to know.
“Kendra pushed Penny into the lake,” says Hilary. “On purpose.”
Chelsea just nods. “We had decided that Penny would be our dock person. We were doing a relay in the canoe and one person was supposed to stay on the dock and hand us the balloons.”
I’m not entirely sure what they’re talking about, but I just nod as if it all makes perfect sense. “And?”
“I already told them that I couldn’t swim,” says Penny. “And I can’t. Well, not very well anyway.”
“Yeah, and Kendra said that it wouldn’t matter because she could probably just float,” says Hilary, and I’m impressed with how involved she seems to be getting. I’ve never heard her talk this much.
“Yeah, Kendra just laughed and said, ‘Blubber always floats,’” adds Penny as she pushes a limp strand of wet hair from her pudgy red face.
“She was being pretty mean,” says Chelsea, the one girl who usually doesn’t say a bad word about anyone.
“She was mad that our team wasn’t winning,” says Hilary. “I guess that was sort of my fault.”
“You did your best.” Chelsea pats Hilary on the back. “That’s all anyone can do.”
“So we were all done with the relay and Kendra walked by, real close to where Penny was standing, and then she pretended like she was falling and she slammed right into Penny and that’s when Penny fell in the lake.”
I sigh. “Too bad.”
“Chelsea jumped in to save me.” Penny turns and gives Chelsea a very appreciative smile. “She’s the best swimmer in our cabin.”
Chelsea kind of shrugs.
“Where are the other girls?” I ask. Not that I particularly care.
“The pool.”
“Was it just Kendra then?” I ask, wanting clarification. “Is she the only one I need to talk to about this?”
“Yeah,” says Penny.
“But Jenna and Faye were both laughing really hard,” adds Hilary. “And they all made fun of Penny when Chelsea and I were trying to pull her out of the water.”
I can just imagine this.
“They didn’t even help,” says Chelsea.
Well, this really makes me mad. I’ve had just about enough of Kendra and her meanness. And even though Pastor Ray told me how they hate to send kids home, he did admit that they occasionally had to. And as I storm over to the pool, I’m thinking maybe this will be an option. Maybe we can ship Kendra home. If nothing else, taking her up to the lodge to see Pastor Ray might get her attention.
“I don’t want to go with you,” says Kendra after I tell her what’s up. The three girls have just emerged from the pool, and they are dripping.
“It’s not your choice, Kendra,” I say in a firm voice.
“But why?” she says in a whiny voice.
“Because you pushed Penny in the lake.”
“That was an accident!” She glances over to Faye. “Wasn’t it?”
Faye just nods without making eye contact with me.
“Not according to my witnesses,” I say.
“I have my witnesses,” Kendra tosses back. “Right, Jenna?”
I look over to where Jenna is standing, and that’s when I notice that her wet T-shirt is clinging to her like plastic wrap, and beneath it I can actually see her ribs sticking out. And I feel shocked. As if she knows what I’m thinking, she immediately pulls her T-shirt away from her emaciated frame and she fluffs it out so that it’s not so revealing.
�
��Right, Jenna?” Kendra asks again.
“Yeah,” says Jenna, looking away. “It was an accident. Kendra lost her balance and Penny was in the way.”
“And that’s why you all laughed at her?” I continue. “And why none of you even helped her out?” Then I turn back to Kendra. “You can come with me now, or I can bring Pastor Ray back to make you come. Your choice.”
So it is that Kendra comes. But you can tell by her posture and the way she stomps off that she is really ticked. But not as ticked as I am.
Neither of us says a word as we go up to the lodge. But I am trying to pray. Not that it’s working too well. Instead of praying for Kendra, I find myself praying for Jenna. I am feeling extremely worried about this girl. Her anorexia looks serious. And I think I should say something to her. But what?
When I find Pastor Ray, I give him a quick explanation of the incident at the lake.
“It wouldn’t be such a big deal,” I say finally, “except that Penny, as you know, is extremely overweight. Everyone in our cabin knew she was freaked about wearing a swimsuit and terrified about getting wet. And besides that, she doesn’t swim. What Kendra did was not only cruel but it could’ve been dangerous. If Chelsea hadn’t jumped in — ”
“Penny was floating,” says Kendra impatiently. “It’s not like she was going to drown.”
“What if she was?” I look at her. “Would you have cared?”
“You’re just making a big deal out of nothing.” Kendra rolls her eyes. “It’s probably because you relate to Penny more than to the rest of us.”
I feel a rage bubbling in me, and I wonder how it is that I ever thought I was qualified to be a counselor to demonic girls like Kendra. “And why is that?” I ask in what I’m sure is a seething tone.
“Like you said the first night, you know how it feels to be the fat girl.”
Now I turn from her and look at Pastor Ray in a way that I’m sure must be screaming, Help me! Help me!
“Emily, if you don’t mind, I think I’ll handle this with Kendra myself. I’m sure your other girls would like to have you back with them anyway.”
“Thank you.” I nod, then turn and walk away. I am still seething. And as I walk back to the cabin, I do pray. I pray that Pastor Ray is calling Kendra’s parents right now and that she will be on her way home before dinner.
But when dinnertime comes and the girls and I head up to the mess hall, I am surprised and dismayed to see that Kendra is already there. It seems that she was assigned to KP during free time this afternoon.
“Thanks for getting me into trouble,” she says as she joins us.
“It was your choice to push Penny into the lake,” I remind her.
Then she gathers Jenna and Faye and starts telling them how unfair everything is and how she hates camp and hates me and how she wishes they would send her home. This makes me think that perhaps Pastor Ray brought up this possibility. Maybe it’s not too late. I find myself hoping that she does something really bad—and soon—and that she will even wear out Pastor Ray’s patience and be sent home. I even consider praying for this.
After the blessing is said, I begin my familiar routine of putting lots of green salad on my plate and very little of everything else. I’m thankful that the camp cook is so fond of green salad. But as I’m pretending to add dressing, I sense that I’m being watched, and when I set the dressing aside and look up, I see Kendra’s narrowed eyes on me. And I can tell she knows.
What’s the big deal? I ask myself as I pick up my fork. There’s no law against dieting. And that’s what I’m doing. Then I look across the table to where Jenna is sitting and I remember how awful her ribs looked beneath that wet T-shirt. And I know that I have some responsibility to say something. I’m just not sure what, or even how to. And, again, there’s this feeling of hypocrisy. Like, who am I to confront Jenna?
As we’re leaving the mess hall, Leah catches me and invites me to sit down and chat for a few minutes as our girls head over to the Snack Shack, where kids not only get their hits of junk food but actually do a little preadolescent flirting as well. I’m sure they won’t miss us a bit.
“How’s it going?” she asks. “I saw what happened with Penny at the lake. That was too bad.”
I nod. “Yeah. Can you believe how mean some of these girls can be?”
“Yeah, I can, actually. Don’t forget that I used to be the fat girl too.”
I shake my head. “Yeah, that’s right. It seems totally unfair that the way we look matters so much. I mean, why can’t we just get over this gotta-be-thin-and-beautiful thing? Why can’t we just accept ourselves and others for what we are?” I turn and look at my beautiful, thin friend—the same girl who has made me green with envy at times—and I have to laugh at myself. “Like I should talk, huh?”
“But I do know what you mean.”
“I’ll be so glad when camp is over,” I confess. “I’m an abysmal failure at this counselor business. Can you believe that I actually thought this would be a good place to connect with cool Christian guys?”
She laughs. “Actually, it hasn’t been too bad . . .”
“You mean Brad Pitt?”
“His name is Tanner. Tanner Olson.”
“And?”
“And I think he’s kinda into me.”
“No way.”
“Yeah. We’ve talked a few times, and he’s even written me a couple of notes.”
“Notes?”
“Yeah. He’s kind of a poet.”
“Seriously?”
“Shhh. It’s not like everyone needs to know about this.”
“Tanner the poet is into you.” I just shake my head in wonder.
It figures. I mean, here I am working my tail off, trying to help the misfit girls to feel better about themselves, and trying to keep the “cool” girls from making us all totally miserable, and my best friend has not only got a bunch of really sweet girls in her cabin but she’s also got this very cute and seemingly nice guy interested in her. Life is so unfair.
“He asked for my phone number,” she’s saying now. “He wants to get together when we get home. Can you believe it?”
I just shake my head again.
“Don’t be down,” she tells me. “I know that your girls are a challenge. But I’ll bet things are going to change. I have a feeling God is really using you with them. And it makes sense that you’d get the tough cabin, Emily.”
I frown at her. “And why exactly is that? Was I born under an unlucky star or cursed as a child?”
She laughs. “No. God probably knew that you had the maturity and strength to deal with something like this.”
I sigh. “I don’t think so, Leah.”
“You’re going to be fine, Emily,” she says lightly, but I see her eyes looking over toward the Snack Shack, and when I turn to see what she’s looking at, I realize it’s Brad—make that Tanner. And he is waving at her.
“Love calling?”
She grins. “I just want to go say hi. Do you mind?”
“Not at all.”
“Hang in there, Em.” She pats me on the back. “And, hey, I almost forgot to tell you—you’re looking great. Looks like you’re still losing weight. Way to go!”
Before I have a chance to thank her, she takes off and I’m left sitting by myself on the bench. I take in a deep breath and tell myself to just enjoy this quiet moment of solitude. Who knows what our cabin time will be like tonight? I’m pretty sure that Kendra has her sights set on me now. I better watch out.
“Hey, Emily,” says a male voice from behind me.
Surprised that any guy here besides Pastor Ray would actually know my name, I turn around in time to see Brett McEwen walking toward me.
“What’s up?” I ask, as if it’s no big deal that this guy is talking to me.
“This seat free?” he asks as he flops down beside me.
“Actually, I was thinking about charging for it. Twenty-five cents.”
He laughs, then digs in his s
horts pocket until he finds a quarter, which he hands to me. “There you go.”
“Thank you.” I pocket the quarter.
“I hear your girls are trouble,” he says.
“Man, word gets around, huh?”
“Well, I was talking to Pastor Ray . . . I’ve got a couple of guys that make me wanna punch something. He mentioned that you’ve been having some challenges too.”
So we sit there and swap war stories for about twenty minutes, and I can’t believe how much better I feel when we’re done.
“I think I should give you back the quarter,” I say.
“Why?”
“In payment for that little therapy session.”
He laughs.
“Seriously, it’s comforting to know that I’m not the only one going through the wringer. That little bit of information might actually help me get through cabin time tonight instead of jumping in the lake.”
“I know what you mean.”
“Of course, even if I survive cabin time, they might find me dead in my bed by morning. Kendra gave me the evil eye during dinner, and I keep having these visions of her suffocating me with a pillow while I’m asleep.”
He laughs even louder now. “Yeah, they should take out special life insurance policies on counselors with problem kids.”
“I’m sure my parents would appreciate that.”
“Well, keep the quarter,” he says. “I had a good therapy session too.”
Then the horn goes off, which makes me jump. That means there are thirty minutes until campfire. Just enough time to herd the girls to the cabin for sweatshirts and remind them to use the restrooms and brush their teeth. (For those who believe in this practice—I’ve heard some of the middle-school boys don’t brush their teeth for two whole weeks—eeuw!)
“Hey, Emily,” Brett says before we part ways. “Why don’t we make a pact to pray for each other? Like when things get tough with your girls, you pray for me, and I’ll do the same for you when my guys start making me crazy.”
Faded Denim: Color Me Trapped Page 8