Camp Life

by Lucinda Maison

  Toby stared at him, hurt and puzzled, then as light dawned, sat up straight and grabbed a magazine and some scissors himself. Within moments, he had found an ad for lotion that the makers implied would make alligator skin soft. Fortunately for Toby, the alligator pictured was just what he needed. He lifted the scissors to the page, while Drew stared from him to Jim. Jim glanced up briefly, slid his eyes to Dara, then back to Drew with the unmistakable message to get busy and leave her be.

  Drew blinked in acknowledgment and selected some colored pencils from a cup on the table. He had no idea what he was going to do, but he felt better just holding the pencil in his hand.

  Dara was brought up short. “What am I going to do about it?” she repeated to herself. She thought about what Jim had said, about what she really wanted. She looked up at Shelley again and surprised herself by saying “I’m going to make a treasure map about it.”

  “OK,” Shelley said neutrally. “Let me know if you need any help.” With a brief smile of encouragement, she moved a few steps over to Drew, who was staring fixedly at the clean white paper before him. Dara continued to watch Shelley for a few seconds, then slowly selected some paper for herself.

  Drew’s hand gripped the pencil tightly, but was resting still upon the paper. He slowly raised his eyes to meet Shelley’s. “What if...what if I want something for someone else? I know this sounds dorky, but I’m so lucky. The thing I love to do the most is art and I get to do it a lot. I have a great family, awesome friends...” he left the sentence unfinished, looking a little embarrassed.

  “Yes, lucky,” Shelley smiled. “But what you may want for someone else, they might not want for themselves. Or not want it enough, or they might be unwilling to do what it takes to get it. It’s really up to them...Is there nothing you dream of doing or being? A place you’d like to see? Something you like to learn to do or to have?” she prompted.

  His fingers fidgeted with the pencil, then made a few firm strokes on the paper. Staring at the cobalt lines, he tilted his head as if listening, then began to draw in earnest. He seemed to have forgotten Shelley’s presence. She watched him curiously and then moved away to another table.

  Toby thought he’d have trouble not peeking at whatever Dara was doing, but he found himself caught up in his own project. Against a background of bright yellow paper, he had pasted the alligator and other pictures and words from the magazine. A shampoo ad had yielded the word “eucalyptus”, and he found “down” near a picture of a comforter, and “under” he cut away from “underwear”. He drew a big “Z” with a purple Sharpie, followed by two “o”s he’d cut out. He wanted Drew to help him draw the outline of Australia, but was too shy to ask. He had a stroke of luck when he found a Qantas ad, complete with a picture of the continent, a plane, and a koala. Toby separated the pictures and pasted them where he wanted.

  Jim had glued half of the blue sheet onto a green background. He fashioned a couple of dolphins from gray pipe cleaners, and found a photo of a man scuba diving. The ship he drew was crude, but recognizable as a ship. He picked up the magazine Toby had discarded and flipped through it looking for his own treasures.

  Gluing strips of different colored construction paper onto the edges of a piece of cardboard, Dara had made a sort of shallow tray. She pulled off a hunk of purple from a stick of sculpting clay, and rolled it into a long neck and body. Laying a narrow strip of blue clay along the spine, she used finger and thumb to pluck up small triangles to form dorsal scales. She continued, rolling four balls of yellow into front and back legs, with a little black for claws. A head with great eyes and flaring nostrils appeared, and two long spikes at the tip of the tail. Dara stared at her creation and found herself smiling with satisfaction. She placed the dragon carefully on the tray and picked up a black pen.

  Drew worked fast, sketching in outlines and shapes with the blue pencil, then smudging the lines a bit with his thumb, softening the edges. He frowned at what he’d drawn, then looked up beyond the tent. He rose suddenly from the bench and walked to a large pine. Stooped over, Drew looked closely at the ground as he shuffled slowly forward. Every once in a while he bent closer, picking up objects, then either discarding them or tucking them into his pocket. Returning to his seat, he emptied his pocket, making a small pile to the side of his drawing. He grabbed the glue and laid several thin beads perpendicular to the largest figure on his paper, a flat disc of various shades of blue and green. Drew pressed a twig carefully onto each line of glue. Applying more glue, he made branches from smaller twigs and placed tiny fans of pine needles along the branches. A cluster of rough-edged rocks soon rimmed the blue disc, and suddenly it wasn’t a disc anymore, but a mountain lake.

  Engrossed in their work, everyone labored silently for quite some time. Eventually, heads popped up and eyes strayed to neighbors’ projects. There was some shuffling of feet and low murmuring. Dara sat back with a sigh and noticed that Toby was holding his paper before him, grinning widely. He looked up just then, met Dara’s eyes, and his grin got even bigger. Dara realized she wore a matching grin, and felt somehow lighter than she could remember in a very long time. Toby proudly held up his map.

  “It’s just perfect, Toby,” she said. He’d even found a picture of Steve Irwin with his daughter, which was sweet and sad all at once.

  Toby nodded, not saying a word. Then he noticed Dara’s map. It was on the table in front of her, a multicolored tray of sorts, filled with interesting objects. Toby came around the table for a closer look and Dara didn’t object. She even turned it a bit so he could see it better.

  He didn’t say anything at first, just stared. Finally, he spared a quick glance for Dara and then directed his gaze at her project again. “The dragon is beautiful!” he breathed. “And look at this little guy...he’s an elf, right?”

  Dara nodded slowly, keeping her attention on her treasure map. “A dragon, an elf, and...Oh, you found a picture of Gandalf! Where was that?” he asked her.

  “That gamer’s catalog - it had a Lord of the Rings game,” she answered.

  He saw words across the top of the page and scattered all around, some in colored pencil, some made up of letters cut out of magazine pages. The biggest word was “AUTHOR”, but there was also “fantasy”, “kids”, “stories”, “fun”, and a few others.

  “You want to write stories? Fantasy stories, like Eragon?” he asked uncertainly.

  Dara shook her head. “No, I…I already write stories. I want to keep writing them and I’d like...I’d like for other people to read them....and hopefully like them, too.”

  “Well, I’d read them!” Toby stated emphatically.

  “You really want to read my stories? I...no one’s ever read them except me. I mean, I wrote them, of course, but then I go back and read them later. It would be...nice...to see what someone else thinks of them,” she said with a soft smile.

  “All right if I take a look, then?” Jim asked from across the table.

  Dara hesitated. Gathering courage, she spun her map around so Jim could see it right side up. He looked it over solemnly then suddenly smiled. “Good on you!” he exclaimed.

  Dara smiled back and asked to see his map. She loved the dolphins, and they were comparing bad clay sculptures (except for the dragon, which they agreed was perfect), when they noticed that Drew had finally stopped working.

  Drew sat back, unconsciously tapping his right ring finger next to the top of his paper. After a moment, he reached out and grabbed a brown pencil, giving a couple of lines a bit darker shading. He sat back again and after staring at his work for another few seconds, nodded once, and looked up to find 3 pairs of eyes upon him. “What?” he questioned, looking from one to another.

  “We want to see!” Dara uttered impatiently, almost rolling her eyes.

  “Oh,” was all Drew said before turning his paper around so that all three of them could look at it.

  They gazed down in silence at the serene mountain scene. He had created a lake of
deep greenish-blue, streaks of sunlight sparkling on the surface, held close between a ledge of stones and a line of tall pines. Some of the stones were real and some were drawn, as were the trees. A small cabin hugged the side of a gentle slope, edged by more pines and scattered clumps of brush on one side, and a clear stream on the other. The detail was amazing, as was the way he had incorporated real objects into his drawings.

  “It’s beautiful!” Dara said, awed. “Did you make this up or is this a real place?”

  Jim and Toby both complimented Drew, impressed with his ability and with the scene itself.

  Drew thanked them all. “It’s real,” he responded with a wistful look. “We...my family spent a few weeks there once and I’ve wanted to go back ever since. Well, I don’t just want to go back, I want to own it so I can go whenever I want for as long as I want!” He folded his arms. “I figure it’ll take me years, I need to save a bunch of money, but...that place is like...it’s the most peaceful place I’ve ever been to.” His voice became stronger, more excited. “There’s a rocky trail above that hill you see, and you follow it up over this ridge. It leads to another lake, a smaller one, with the most perfect flat rock for sitting. The water is probably about 14 feet deep, but you can see right down to the bottom. There are more trails all around there, and deer, bear, eagles, hawks...I even saw a mink one time.” Drew looked up, lifting his chin. “So, it’s not a big deal like going to the Olympics or being a brain surgeon or something. But it’s what I want.”

  “Having a place like that,” Jim commented “I’d say that’s a very big deal.”

  Drew nodded. He looked closely at first Jim’s and then Toby’s project, and had good things to say about both of them. He moved on to Dara’s, coming around behind her and bending close to the table. He didn’t say anything for so long that Dara plucked at her paper, wanting to snatch it away. Finally, Drew turned his head, catching Dara’s gaze, hazel eyes intent on blue.

  “You did this?” he asked, unnecessarily.

  She dipped her head once in acknowledgment, uncertain, trying to gauge his reaction.

  “You want to be an author?” he questioned, again unnecessarily.

  “Yes,” Dara replied, a little defiantly.

  Drew broke into a broad grin, looping one long arm around her shoulders and giving her a brief squeeze before releasing her. Dara turned beet red.

  “That’s great!” he enthused. “I can totally see you doing that!”

  “You can?” she said, disbelieving. “Why...what makes you think...?” she stopped.

  “I don’t know, it just seems like you, especially the fantasy stuff, using your imagination. It fits you, somehow.”

  Strangely, Dara felt close to tears. She didn’t know why it would make such a difference, having it out in the open and having people believe in it, in her, but it did.

  “All done?” Shelley sidled up to their table. They all started talking about each other’s projects at once, and Shelley somehow managed to catch the gist. She moved around the table, peering at each project, holding her tongue until she had seen them all. After finishing up with Jim’s, she shook her head slowly, then looked at each on them, in turn. “These are truly wonderful. Look what you’ve done!” she exclaimed in admiration, waving a hand over the papers.

  Dara sighed happily, watching Shelley continue to move around among the tables until she stood in front again.

  “I’ve seen a lot of treasure maps in my time, but yours...you all just took your ideas and ran with them! You did great! You might ask...” She was interrupted by a sharp yip from down the hill and then a flash of grey streaked between the tables and out the other side. The grey streak was followed closely by a larger brown object, making an odd whining noise punctuated with deep barks that sounded as if they came from something much larger. The squirrel took a sharp right turn, shot out from under the canopy, and was up the pine tree in about 3 seconds. Rocky wasn’t quite quick enough to make the turn. Back end sliding around, nails scrabbling as he tried to stop his forward momentum, he slammed into Drew’s legs. Everyone gasped, but he bounced off, seemingly unharmed, and went tearing off after the squirrel. Resting fuzzy front paws against the trunk, bright gaze fastened high up in the branches, he hurled challenges in reverberating woofs.

  Cal reappeared a few moments later, hurrying toward the tree. “Sorry guys, Shelley,” he called as he passed by. “Rock!” he called sharply. Rocky stopped barking and with a last look up the tree, reluctantly trotted over to Cal. “That’s telling him!” Cal praised him, patting the top of his head. Rocky beamed, ears flattening momentarily under Cal’s hand.

  “Show’s over, folks!” he smiled at the kids, a little sheepishly at Shelley. “The Rock has once again saved the planet from...” he trailed off under Shelley’s stern gaze. “Ah, well, I’ll let you get back to what you were doing. Come on, Rocky.” He made a good show of nonchalance as the two of them went back down the hill, and Rocky sent one glance back at the tree.

  Toby looked back to see Shelley shake her head. “I swear, there’s something almost human about that dog. I’m not even sure he is a dog.” She paused. “Anyway, you’ve done a terrific job with your treasure maps. There will be more sessions like this one, and you can add to the map you made today or make another one. When you’re ready, the next step is to go to “Real World Magic”. In that one, you’ll find out more about making your maps come true. I’ll leave you with a quote that ties in with “Real World Magic”. The name of the person who said it is Antoine de Saint-Exupery, and please don’t ask me to pronounce it again. What the man said was “A goal without a plan is just a wish.” If you want a more modern quote, Dr. Oz said, “Failing to plan is planning to fail.”

  Chapter 14

  Who Are You Being?

  “C’mon, it’s almost time for dinner! Strike him out!” a boy in a bright yellow shirt yelled at Patrick from behind the backstop, fingers laced in the chain link. He rattled the fence for emphasis. Patrick did not even glance at him, remaining intent on the catcher’s glove, held exactly where he needed to place the ball. He rolled the ball around in his hand, shook his head at the catcher, nodded at the catcher, looked right and then left, and scowling a la Goose Gossage back in the day, let loose with a slow-motion, loopy underhand pitch that floated toward the small figure at the plate.

  Frowning fiercely, the boy cocked the bat, tightened his grip, and put his whole body into the swing. Patrick was afraid he’d spin right around and fall over, but then the tip of the bat connected with a muted thunk, sending the ball rolling slowly toward first. The boy dropped the bat and ran, short legs pumping. Patrick bent leisurely to pick up the ball and lobbed it easily to the first baseman, beating the boy by seconds.

  “That’s it, let’s go eat!” someone called out. As the other players started walking off the field, Patrick ambled over to the boy, who was in the process of getting a nuggie from the guy on first. “You barely got me!” he was saying triumphantly, grinning despite being in a headlock.

  “Yeah, it was close...Not!!” the first baseman replied, giving the smaller boy’s head a final rub and releasing him.

  Patrick reached the two of them. “Hey, shrimp! Not bad!” he called out, holding up a palm. Teddy jumped up and slapped his hand, while the first baseman smiled and walked away, slapping the ball in his glove.

  “Strong in the Force, is this one,” Patrick intoned.

  Teddy laughed. “Do more Yoda!” he pleaded.

  Patrick shook his head. “Hungry I am!” he said, tugging on Teddy’s sleeve to get him to follow. They plodded up the dirt path, Teddy happily chattering to Patrick until he caught sight of his mother by one of the cabins. Noreen waved to them both, and Teddy ran to her while Patrick continued on toward the lodge. “Mom!” he heard Teddy pant. “I almost made it to first!”

  Patrick didn’t hear Noreen’s reply. He was almost past the bench under the wisteria arbor when he heard Jake’s voice.

  �
�Why do you hang around that little kid? Sucking up to the counselor or what?” he jeered, hands gripping the edge of the bench.

  “I like the kid...Geez, why don’t you give it a rest, Jake?”

  Jake frowned, then smiled unpleasantly. “Suit yourself, Utah. I don’t care.”

  “Don’t you ever get tired of being you?” was all Patrick said before going on into the lodge.

  Jake’s chest rose and fell rapidly with his breathing. He stared after Patrick for a long while after he disappeared inside, and continued to sit there in silence until startled by someone else plopping down on the bench beside him.

  Ron let out a satisfied sigh and tilted the bottle of lemonade to his lips. Jake couldn’t look away from the clear drops of condensation running the length of the bottle and dripping onto Ron’s leg. Ron slid a look sideways at Jake. He lifted an eyebrow, silently offering a sip.

  Jake started to shake his head no, then found himself reaching for the bottle. He took a cool draught, grateful for the icy liquid sliding down his throat. Reluctantly, he handed the bottle back.

  “How did you like the horseback ride? You did well,” Ron commented lazily.

  “OK, I guess,” he replied after a few moments of silence.

  “Everyone else has gone into supper. I saw one of your cabinmates go by. How are you getting along?”

  Jake huffed derisively. “Great. I can really relate to a rich geeky Okie and two losers from Utah.” He was surprised to see Ron turn to him with a look of admiration.

  “You do that so well! I can see you’ve put in plenty of practice,” he complimented.

  Jake looked at him as if he’d spoken Martian. “What? What are you talking about?”

  “You have this tough guy, surly identity that you use a lot. I’ve caught glimpses of other ones, like Funny Jake and Introspective Jake, but from what I’ve seen, your favorite fallback identity is Surly Jake. How does that work for you?”