Horse Camp

by Nicole Helget

  Fifth of all if anyone asks you police stations are not scary take it from me. I have been to one so I can tell you for sure. Don’t be frightened of them. They smell like garbage and they look scary but aren’t and they sound normal just like a regular store except for a yell sometimes and they feel like a cold dungeon where you might get sent before you get your head chopped off in mid evil times and they don’t taste like anything because you can’t eat a jail. Seriously not too bad a place. Uncle Stretch came and got us from there and gave me a hug which he never did before.

  Lastly they say there was fourteen tornadoes in Minnesota that day and eight poor people died. Not poor like they didn’t have money but poor you know like I feel bad for them. But Jimmy and I weren’t one of them!

  In conclusion this descriptive essay was about me surviving the deadly twister! And Jimmy too he probably saved my life even though you could argue I saved his life in a way too since when I was holding onto his leg I was probably weighing him down just enough so he wouldn’t get sucked up. I am 84 pounds. Imagine even trying to walk ten feet with an extra 84 pounds attached to your leg it would be hard.

  I’m riding the bus home on a Friday. Pauly and Penny are sitting up front because nobody likes them that much yet. June Bug is sitting by her new boyfriend, Chad. He’s not that great, but Penny says he’s a gentleman. He seems boring to me, and he’s got orange hair. I’m back with the cool kids, well, not with them but at least by them. I’ve got a couple of friends on a different bus, though. Tonight is Sheryl and Uncle Stretch’s wedding. It’s out at the farm, and we have to get all dressed up.

  Today at school, I got my first A in English class for the essay on personal experience I wrote for Mr. Dalton’s class. He’s usually pretty picky, but he said just surviving that tornado to write about it was pretty much worth an A right there. Also, he said I did well by attempting to write creative similes and using sensory description. Everybody got to read their essays up front, and I got asked the most questions. Penny’s essay was well-written and had a lot of words nobody’s ever heard of, but I couldn’t even tell you what it was about, it was so boring. One other kid nearly stole my idea when he wrote an essay about a tornado, but nobody asked him even one question, because his was more about his grandpa and the tornado, which was boring. A bunch of his grandpa’s cows got killed when the barn collapsed was all that really happened. The kid wasn’t even there. He was visiting his other grandpa in a different town where there weren’t any tornadoes.

  When the bus drops us off, the farmyard is an amazing sight. Flowers are hanging from all the trees and there’s an altar and some chairs set up in the grass, with a big tent over them. When Uncle Stretch and Sheryl said they were getting married at the farm, I imagined it taking place in the barn with squealing pigs running around, and Uncle Stretch trying to look good in a suit but having crap on his shoes.

  “It’s beautiful!” says Penny.

  “Weally awesome!” says Pauly.

  I say, “It ain’t that great.”

  Pauly says, “Whatevoh, P.P. Yoh just jealous.”

  “Jealous?” I say. “Of what? I’m not old enough to get married. I don’t even want to get married.”

  We all walk up to the house. It’s true—I don’t want to get married, ever. Sheryl and Uncle Stretch both had failed relationships already, and look what happened to my parents’ marriage. I like how things were in Africa. The men got to have two or three wives— sometimes more. There were these huge families and everybody seemed pretty happy. Probably because if the man of the house got in a fight with one of the wives, he’d just avoid her and hang out with a different one for a while.

  When we get inside, Sheryl tells us we don’t have much time to get ready because the wedding starts at six. Her hair is all done up, and she actually looks very nice. Well, her belly looks a little weird, but that’s because it’s all poofed out since she’s pregnant. She’s been really nice to everyone lately. I mean, I guess she’s always been nice, but now she’s even trying to get Uncle Stretch to not be such a grouch to everyone, which I appreciate. It doesn’t always work—like the time he kicked me in the butt and called me lazy last week because I forgot to mow the lawn when I was supposed to and then smarted off about it—but still, it’s been better. Penny says Sheryl’s nesting instinct is kicking in.

  It takes a while, but finally, we’re all dressed. I must say, I look good. I’m wearing a black suit with a red tie, and my hair is combed. Sheryl tried getting me to the dentist to fix my tooth, but I faked a stomachache that day, so I could stay cool looking with the broken tooth. After that, no one tried to schedule another dentist visit. As for Pauly, his suit is supposed to match mine, but he spilled some milk on it already, so I look better. Penny and June Bug are wearing these red dresses with ribbons all over them. Uncle Stretch wears a white tuxedo with black cowboy boots that don’t have any crap on them, and he’s actually shaved for once. Sheryl’s dress is white, too, and it hides her gut, but her bosoms are kind of way out there.

  Some guests show up, the ceremony starts, and we all stand up by the front: me and Pauly on one side, and Penny and June Bug on the other. Uncle Stretch stands up there next to us, waiting for Sheryl. There are more people invited to the wedding than I thought there’d be, but I don’t know most of them since they’re Uncle Stretch’s and Sheryl’s friends. Jimmy is here with his dad, though. He got a normal haircut and he’s wearing a tie like most of the men. Still, he’s got his earrings in his ears and his pierced eyebrow, so he still found a way to look cooler than everybody else.

  I wish Mom were here. She told us her appeal went through, and she had a good chance to be released early from jail, early enough to even make the wedding, maybe. But I guess she couldn’t make it. She would’ve been happy to see all of us so dressed up and looking good, and she probably would’ve been especially happy for Uncle Stretch, her brother.

  I miss Dad, too, but in a different sort of way. If he were here, that would mean he would be the preacher, the guy marrying Uncle Stretch and Sheryl. He would probably say things that would make people nervous God was going to kill them if they didn’t do what God wanted. People probably wouldn’t want to be thinking about getting killed at a wedding. So I’m sort of glad he’s not here. Still, I miss him.

  Finally, Sheryl comes out of the house and walks down the red carpet somebody rolled across the lawn. All the people in their seats stand up, and this person they hired to play a giant violin goes into some really loud stuff. This is good because Bernie and Brenda, who are tied to a tree, start whinnying—probably because they got scared. Though the music is loud, it sounds all right, and Sheryl is smiling like crazy as she walks down the carpet, holding some roses. They match the rose tattoo on her ankle, well, at least the part that’s not tangled in barbed wire.

  The ceremony doesn’t last long. The most interesting part is when there’s this man and woman, who look kind of like Uncle Stretch and Sheryl, who come up and do a song together. The guy has a really big red mustache and is wearing a leather vest with no shirt underneath, and he tonks on his guitar while the lady—who’s got really big thingies and a yellow dress that barely covers them—sings along. They look and sound kind of weird, but their voices, though warbly and unnatural, somehow go together and make an interesting tune. And you can tell they’re both trying really hard by the way they’ve shut their eyes so tight. The guy looks almost like somebody maybe knifed him.

  Another interesting part is when Pauly is supposed to give the rings to the preacher, but when he digs in his pocket for them and pulls out his fist, all he’s got cupped in his hand is a bunch of Starburst candy wrappers. The second time he digs in there, he pulls out the rings. I’m sure everybody was worried he’d lost them. I know I was, for a second. The rest is boring until the preacher announces, “You are now man and wife. Stretch, you may kiss the bride.” Uncle Stretch is smiling like a little kid, smiling the biggest smile I’ve ever seen on his mean old face. Then he s
mooches her, and everybody claps, and it’s done—they’re married. The married couple gets on Brenda and rides a couple of laps around the farm while everybody hoots and hollers.

  Afterwards, the party starts in the tent, and the weird-looking couple with the warbly voices plays the music. The guy unbuttons his leather vest and you can see his bare chest. He’s got about ten curly chest hairs and a tattoo of a buffalo sitting there. He takes over the singing with a solo and all of a sudden the music sounds a lot worse. But the lady in the yellow dress kicks off her shoes and starts dancing, and other people copy her.

  After a few songs, Sheryl comes up to me and tells me we’re running low on punch and asks if Jimmy could take me to the store to buy some sherbet ice cream and ginger ale; she’s already got the fruit juice. She says dinner starts in an hour, so would we hurry up, too? I go ask Jimmy, who’s sitting at a table talking to this girl. He looks annoyed at first when he sees me but then says, okay, he’ll do it, really nicely with a smile, probably just to impress the girl.

  Penny sees me walking out with Jimmy and comes over. “Where are you going?” she asks.

  “Gotta get some punch-bowl crap from the store for Sheryl,” I say.

  “Can I come along? This party is kind of getting weird.”

  I don’t really want her to come, and Jimmy will probably be further annoyed, but I say, “I don’t care. You have to ask Jimmy if we have enough room, though.”

  She smiles this awkward smile at him and stutters, “D-d-do you think I could come along for the ride?”

  He looks at her funny and says, “Don’t matter to me.”

  “Thanks,” she says, and blushes. I suppose she’s got a stupid crush on him! Great.

  We get to Jimmy’s vehicle. An old, beat-up truck has replaced his old, beat-up car that got whipped away in the tornado. We get in, Penny in the middle—to her delight, I’m sure—and Jimmy starts it up and loud music comes blaring. He turns it down a little.

  When we get to the end of the driveway to make the turn into town, Jimmy has to wait for this little blue sports car coming at us. The blue car slows down as it gets closer and puts on its blinker. Probably some guests who got the time of the wedding wrong or something. The car turns into the driveway, and Jimmy starts to pull out. As we pass it, the blue car stops and the window rolls down, and Mom’s face looks out. It’s Mom.

  It’s Mom!

  “Stop the truck!” I yell at Jimmy, jumping out even before he’d completely stopped. The only other time I moved so quickly was being chased by the tornado.

  Penny’s right behind me, and we jump on Mom when she gets out of the car. We’re laughing and crying and jumping and screaming and hugging and kissing.

  “Percy!” she says. “What happened to your front tooth?”

  “Pauly kicked it out!” I say. “But I already forgave him.”

  “Oh, Lord,” she says. “You’ll have to tell me all about it.”

  I can’t wait.

  Two Months Later …

  Chapter 26

  Penny at Home

  DEAR OKONKWO,

  I AM ENCLOSING A FAMILY PHOTOGRAPH ALONG WITH MY USUAL $5 THIS TIME. THAT’S ME THERE IN THE LONG YELLOW DRESS NEXT TO THE BOY WITH THE BIG SMILE WHO HAS NO FRONT TOOTH. HE IS MY TWIN BROTHER, PERCY.

  I HEARD THAT IN SOME AFRICAN COUNTRIES, PEOPLE USED TO ABANDON TWINS IN THE WILDERNESS BECAUSE PEOPLE THOUGHT MULTIPLE BIRTHS WERE ANIMAL-LIKE AND EVIL AND DIDN’T WANT THE TWINS BRINGING DOWN SOME BAD CHI ON THE TRIBE. I HATE TO BE THE ONE TO BREAK IT TO YOU, BUT TWINS ARE NOT EVIL AT ALL, SO I HOPE NO ONE DOES THAT IN YOUR COUNTRY ANYMORE.

  TO TELL YOU THE TRUTH, MY TWIN AND I ARE SOME OF THE NICEST PEOPLE YOU COULD EVER HOPE TO KNOW. IN THE PICTURE, THE LITTLE TAN BOY IS MY BROTHER. HE IS ADOPTED, WHICH IS WHY WE DON’T LOOK LIKE THE SAME RACE. IN THIS COUNTRY, SIBLINGS ARE SOMETIMES DIFFERENT RACES BECAUSE ONE OF THEM MIGHT BE ADOPTED, BUT THEY COULD ALSO BE DIFFERENT RACES BECAUSE SOME MOMS HAVE KIDS FROM A COUPLE OF DIFFERENT MEN. THAT’S ONE OF THE GREAT THINGS ABOUT AMERICA. YOU CAN MAKE A FAMILY OUT OF ANY PEOPLE YOU WANT TO. SOME PEOPLE GET UPTIGHT ABOUT THE DISINTEGRATION OF THE NUCLEAR FAMILY, BUT I DON’T, AND YOU SHOULDN’T, EITHER.

  WHEN YOU LOOK AT THE PHOTO OF MY FAMILY, BE SURE NOT TO CONFUSE ME WITH THE GIRL WITH THE FRENCH BRAID. THAT’S MY STEPCOUSIN, JUNE BUG, WHOM I DIDN’T LIKE AT FIRST BUT HAS BECOME PRETTY MUCH A SISTER TO ME. WE EVEN SHARE A ROOM. SHE’S STANDING NEXT TO HER MOM, SHERYL, WHO IS WEARING THE ROLLING STONES TANK TOP. SHE MARRIED MY UNCLE STRETCH, WHO’S IN THE MIDDLE AND IS HOLDING THE BABY, CRITTER, WHOM EVERYBODY LOVES A LOT, AND NEXT TO HIM IS MY MOM. SHE’S GOT THE NICE SMILE.

  I HOPE YOU FIND A FAMILY THAT IS AS SUPPORTIVE OF YOU AS I FEEL THE FAMILY IN THE PHOTO IS SUPPORTIVE OF ME. IF YOU DON’T, I DON’T MIND IF YOU THINK OF ME AS NOT JUST YOUR PEN “PAL” BUT YOUR PEN “SISTER.”

  YOUR CORRESPONDENCE MEANS A LOT TO ME, OKONKWO, AND I WISH YOU BLESSINGS UPON BLESSINGS.

  YOUR PEN SISTER,

  PENELOPE PRIBYL

  Dear Diary,

  This house is really small. There are only three rooms plus a bathroom on the first floor. There are two big bedrooms and two small bedrooms on the second floor. There is one bedroom in the attic and there’s a rec-room-type thing in the basement if you can stand centipedes and spiders. Stretch and Sheryl get one room, Baby Jessalyn (whom everybody has started calling Critter) gets a room, Pauly gets a room, and June Bug and I share a room. Mom has the attic bedroom, which gets really hot, but she says she is used to heat and doesn’t mind. And Percy, who’s finally opened up to the idea of seeing the dentist about his tooth, still sleeps in the granary. We all share one TV, which still only gets ten channels and which Sheryl still hogs all day especially since now that she’s just sitting around, constantly nursing the baby day and night. Critter eats a lot! She is already about five pounds overweight, in my opinion.

  I’ve never minded being in overcrowded, small places. I actually kind of like them. You never get lonely. Yes, you have to give up some privacy, but if you’re careful and don’t dance around naked, it’s no problem.

  Having Mom around again has made me realize how much I missed her and how much my brothers needed her. Mom always has the right thing to say to people. I really want to be like that someday, too, but I think it’s a talent and something you’re born with, and I don’t know if I have it or not. Stretch has really livened up with Mom around. They have all these old inside jokes and sayings, which I can’t imagine Percy and I ever having together. Well, except for Horse Camp, I guess.

  Since she won her appeal, Mom has taken up golf (?!), plays in a horseshoes league (?!) every Tuesday night in town, and is doing a lot of reading and is thinking of getting into politics, believe it or not. She says our government is only as good as the people who make it up, and to prove it, she’s volunteering for our local representative, who used to be her teacher in high school. She’s been telling me what bozos Minnesota has had for some of its leaders in the last decade or so, and I wouldn’t doubt if she ends up running for an office herself someday. She’s one of those people who could probably do about any job.

  Willy (Wesley’s dad) is Mom’s new boyfriend, or actually, old boyfriend since it turns out they used to date way back in sixth grade, which Mom just told me the other day. (She tends to save really important pieces of information for too long in her mind, which makes it seem like the things she does are crazy until she lets you in on the important stuff. I wonder how many other things she hasn’t told me.) Since I broke up with Wesley, I don’t mind Mom dating Willy.

  Wesley and I agreed that we were better suited to be friends, since he’s planning on living on his farm for his whole life, and I have big plans about studying abroad and learning French. I can’t do those things on a farm.

  Dad has moved back to the area and has begun showing up randomly to pick us up for visits, but then he ends up hovering around here, which bothers Uncle Stretch and Willy. Legally, Dad has only custodial rights to see us every
other weekend, but until everyone gets used to the new way of life around here, we’re trying to be accepting of any efforts he makes.

  He is our dad and I love him, of course, but mostly I feel sorry for him because now he’s all alone. His new church on the Internet is growing very quickly, with lots of new parishioners joining all the time, and he loves recording his sermons and posting them on his Web site, rather than having to spend all that time in a church or traveling to random spots around the globe.

  I’ve got to hand it to Dad. He knows how to draw a crowd and keep things moving, and I’m especially amazed at how savvy he is on a computer when so many other adults these days have just given up on technology and don’t want to have anything to do with it. But something I’m not proud of him for is the way he seems to have trouble remembering that he’s not married to Mom anymore and that she can date whomever she wants.

  He keeps telling us things like fornication is a sin, and divorce is a sin, and that he built the new church on the Internet for Mom, who acts like she doesn’t even appreciate it. I, for one, know that Mom doesn’t appreciate it and has no intention of ever caring for his ministry again, but he just doesn’t get it. I, for one, happen to remember that Dad initiated the divorce. I can see that he is now reshaping and misremembering events because he regrets the way things turned out. He doesn’t realize that he’ll feel better when he accepts the changes in his life and moves forward.

  Now that I’m older, I can see that Dad’s just really insecure, so I have been trying to think of ways to let him know that it’s okay for him to just be himself when he’s with me and that he doesn’t have to impress me or anyone else by making big speeches in front of lots of people. I don’t mind if he comes around, because if I were him, I’d want to be around all of us, too, but I’m not sure Willy feels quite so generous. So sometimes if I know Dad’s coming, I’ll act like I’m really exasperated with hanging out on the farm and ready to leave, and then he’ll take me (and sometimes Percy and Pauly) out somewhere.