Camp Life

by Lucinda Maison

  “Well, that was pretty good for camp food. I’m stuffed. Doesn’t mean I won’t have dessert, though, no matter what it is,” Corinne said in almost her usual rapidfire speech.

  Caroline was tired of feeling uncomfortable, tired of Corinne pretending she was all flaky cheerfulness. “I wish you’d stop doing that, Corinne. You flipped out this morning and practically ran out of the building. Then you act like nothing happened. Something happened, I just don’t know what.” She stopped, waiting for Corinne to say something.

  Corinne had been staring down at her bunk, but she finally raised her head, looking first at Dara and then Caroline. From somewhere deep inside, she dredged up a cheeky smile. “Nothing’s wrong,” she claimed in a singsong voice. “So I ran out. What’s the big deal? It doesn’t mean anything!”

  Caroline shook her head, patience exhausted. “You could trust us, you know. We want to help.”

  Corinne said nothing and Caroline sighed. “Forget it,” she said disgustedly.

  Dara started to speak, then held her tongue. She didn’t know what to say.

  Corinne bent over her suitcase, picked up a red and purple striped cami, and went into the bathroom, softly shutting the door behind her.

  “Don’t say it!” Caroline held up a hand. “I just made it worse, I know...I didn’t know what else to do.”

  Dara stepped closer and gave her a quick hug. “You tried, at least.”

  “Yeah,” agreed Caroline, grimacing.

  They sat on Dara’s bunk for a while, flipping through an ancient Teen People with the cast of High School Musical on the cover, until Corinne came out of the bathroom. “Well, are we going to the movie or not?” she demanded.

  “We’re going to the movie!” said Dara, getting off the bunk in one fluid motion while Caroline scooted to the edge and pushed herself up. The magazine was tossed aside, they grabbed hoodies, and were out the door in seconds.

  Seats on the sofas were all taken so the three girls found some chairs instead. Patrick, Sean, and Toby were in the row behind them. Dara turned to say hi to Toby and caught Patrick’s eye. He whispered something in a strange language with an elusively familiar cadence. She frowned, sharply drawn brows nearly meeting in a point over the bridge of her nose.

  “What was that you were speaking?” she asked, puzzled. “What did you say?”

  “It was Quenya...High Elvish. And I said “A star shines on the hour of our meeting”. Sorry, I don’t mean anything by it. It’s just that you look sort of like an elf...I mean that in a good way...I mean...”

  “Don’t mind him,” Sean broke in. “He just blurts things out. We call it being in external speaker mode; everything that comes into his brain goes out his mouth. No filtering system.”

  Patrick gave him a shove. “That’s not true. I think before I speak a lot. I mean I think a lot before I speak.”

  Sean laughed, as did Toby and Dara. “It’s OK”, said Dara. “I love Lord of the Rings so it’s kind of nice to be thought of as, um, elvish.” She looked at Patrick more closely. “How did you memorize those words? It seems like it would be really hard, especially when you can’t see how they’re spelled or anything...or maybe that wouldn’t help.”

  “I can copy sounds pretty good, so hearing it helps me the most. And you can see how some of the language is spelled, if you read the Lord of the Rings books. Anyway, there probably isn’t anybody around here who’d know if I made a mistake, is there?” he said with a grin.

  “You got that right!” Sean said, giving him a little shove back.

  “Almost show time, everybody!” Cal called from somewhere near the kitchen. “Who wants to help pass out dessert?”

  There were plenty of volunteers and soon everyone had a bowl and spoon. Toby looked dubiously at his bowl and saw some cut-up fruit that looked kind of like peach with some milk poured over the top. He poked it with his fork, gingerly lifting a small bite to his mouth. Tasting an amazing burst of sweet flavor coated in something rich and smooth, he dug in again and didn’t stop until the bowl was empty. Sitting back, he noticed that the twins had finished theirs, too.

  “I wonder if there’s seconds?” he heard Patrick say. “I love mangos con crema!”

  “I’ve never had mangos before,” Toby shared. “Was that just cream on top or what?”

  “Yeah, like whipping cream that wasn’t whipped...I’m going to go see if there’s more!” He made it halfway to the kitchen when Cal announced that there were no seconds; he asked people to bring their bowls to the passthrough and they’d start the movie in just a minute.

  Patrick returned to his seat dejectedly, having licked the bowl and dropped it off along with his spoon.

  “It’s OK, bro. Teddy told me his mom said we’re having butterscotch brownies tomorrow night.”

  Patrick brightened. “Oooh, butterscotch brownies! Better than chocolate!”

  Dara, Caroline, and Corinne looked at each other in shared disbelief. “Did he say better than chocolate?” Caroline demanded.

  Cal walked in front of the t.v. and thumbed the remote to start the DVD, then muted it. “Anybody want to hear a little pre-movie joke?”

  “NO!” a couple of the other counselors and not a few campers yelled out.

  Cal shook his head. “Don’t know what you’re missing.” He moved out of the way as the previews started playing. Rocky was curled up on someone’s lap on the sofa and showed no disposition to move. Resting his head on his front paws, he followed people with just his eyes, and an occasional twitch of a tufted eyebrow.

  Jim sat on a bench outside his cabin, looking up at the stars and enjoying the cooler air. He was a very long way from home, but wasn’t much bothered by it. His dad was an oceanographic researcher and Jim had traveled many places with him. He hadn’t pushed Jim to follow in his footsteps, but Jim came to love the ocean anyway. Snorkeling with sea lions at Los Islotes, diving off a wreck in the Virgin Islands, surfing in Costa Rica...he had been very, very lucky and was grateful for all of it. Often, his mum came with them, but sometimes it was just Jim and his dad. Jim loved it, either way.

  He would have liked to watch Big Fat Liar with the others, but after such a long flight, thought it would put him right to sleep. Having heaps of experience with jet lag, he knew he had to stay awake as long as he could to help reset his body clock. Content with watching the familiar stars, he sighed and leaned his head back against the wooden rail of the bench. Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw a light flash on briefly, then go out again. It wasn’t in the sky, but close to the ground. He raised his head, peering intently at the spot where he thought he’d seen the light, close by where the pond must be. Nothing pierced the darkness and he had just about given up when the light flared again for a few seconds and went out.

  Jim stood up and began to walk slowly, head cocked for any sound, eyes glued forward. He was almost to the spot where he expected to run into the pond, but had heard and seen nothing more. One more step brought his foot down on a dry branch, which cracked like a pistol shot in the still night.

  “Sssssshhhhh!” a voice hissed furiously. The sound was so close Jim nearly jumped straight into the pond, which was, in fact, directly in front of him. He backed up a step or two and strained his eyes trying to see the source of the voice. Finally, he thought he could make out the outline of someone squatting beside the pond’s edge. Suddenly, the light flashed on again, not aimed at Jim, but at the water. The beam scanned back and forth, illuminating a flat surface where nothing stirred. Jim heard a sigh and the beam clicked off again. The squatting figure rose.

  “Well, you might as well come closer. You’ve already scared ‘em all away,” the voice said disgustedly.

  “Scared what away?” Jim asked, wondering who the voice belonged to.

  “Frogs. There’s a bunch of them out there.”

  Jim’s eyes brightened. “May I borrow your torch?”

  “My what?”

  “Um, your flashlight. Can I
have it for a moment?” he asked, putting out a hand.

  He felt the grip against his palm and searched for the switch. Scanning the pond again, he shone the beam on the far edge among the reeds and was rewarded with the reflected gleam of eyes.

  “There!” his companion said in an excited undertone. The eyes disappeared immediately, followed by the sound of a small splash.

  Jim pointed the flashlight toward the ground. He could dimly see the other boy’s features and recognized him from dinner. Jim had looked for Dara, but all the seats near her had been taken, one of them by this boy. “Hi, I’m Jim,” he offered. “Sorry about chasing the frogs away. I expect they’ll come out again soon if we’re quiet for a bit.”

  “Jake,” the boy mumbled.

  Jim squatted down with his back against a tree. “I like frogs, too. Actually, almost anything that lives in water.”

  When Jake said nothing, he continued, “How about you? Or are you out here because you don’t like Big Fat Liar?”

  Jake ignored the question. Instead, he asked “Where are you from?”

  “Australia. Brizzy, um, Brisbane. I expect I don’t talk like a Texan, eh?” he smiled.

  This drew a grin from Jake. “Not quite. Neither do I,” he added wryly. After a pause, Jake asked “What are you doing out here? I mean, why did you come to this camp?” his low opinion of the camp plain in his voice.

  Jim stared at him thoughtfully as he flicked a bleached blonde lock off his forehead. “You don’t like it here?” he asked. “Why’d you come, then?”

  “My mom thought I was too young to be by myself during the day,” he scoffed. “So she picked this stupid camp for me.” As soon as he said it, Jake heard Ron’s voice in his head saying “Surly Jake”. Ron had taken most of the fun out of being surly, he thought to himself resentfully. He cleared his throat. “I got into some trouble this year...my mom couldn’t trust me alone, so she found this place for me,” he admitted, surprising himself and Jim.

  Jim switched the flashlight from his right hand to his left and back again. “What did you do...if you don’t mind me asking?”

  Jake shook his head. “I....stole some stuff with a friend. Well, not really a friend, but...Anyway, I stole,” he said flatly. Lifting his head, Jake added. “I wouldn’t do it again.”

  Jim nodded. “It isn’t much fun, is it?”

  Jake started to agree, then looked intently at Jim. “You mean...did you steal, too?”

  Jim nodded again. “When I was about 10 years old. I wanted a new surfboard and my parents said it was too much money. I couldn’t stop thinking about that board. I was in a shop one day buying some lollies and I saw a jar of money standing on a barrel by the door. It was a collection for a guy who had cancer. I picked up the jar on my way out and tucked it under my shirt.”

  “You stole from a guy with cancer!?” Jake asked in disbelief.

  Jim folded his lips and nodded. “Yeah. I didn’t look at it that way at the time, of course. I had the idea the government would take care of him and likely the amount in the jar wouldn’t do him much good.” He shook his head ruefully.

  “What happened?” Jake asked, awed.

  “I was so nervous that when I went up the steps to my house, I dropped the jar and it shattered. My mum came running and that was that.”

  “What did she do?”

  “She asked me where it came from and I said some kid gave it to me for my skateboard.”

  “Hooo!” breathed Jake. “Did she believe you?”

  Jim snorted. “She pointed over the rail beside the step and said “That skateboard?” and I looked and saw my skateboard leaned up against the rail.”

  Jake started laughing.

  “Yeah, well, it wasn’t funny at the time,” though his face still wore a small grin. “My mum asked me what happened and I told her...it was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do.”

  Jake perfectly understood this. “Did she yell at you or what?”

  “No. She’s not much for yelling. She asked me how I felt about what I’d done. Well, of course, I felt like the biggest Galah ever. And I told her so.”

  Jake didn’t know what a “Gala” was, but he got the point. “Did she make you go to the police or anything?

  “Worse. She asked me how I was going to fix it. I said I’d take the money back to the shop and apologize and she said that would be a fine start and what else? I ended up agreeing to clean out the garden shed and some other odd jobs to earn double the money that had already been in the jar.”

  Jake whistled softly. “How long did that take you?”

  “Everyday after school, as well as weekends, for about three months...But I’m glad I did it. I thought it would be really hard to give up that money, but when I went to the shop and put it in the jar, it was almost like it made everything OK. It was still wrong in the first place, but I felt good about what I did afterwards, if that makes sense to you.”

  Jake nodded. “Ever get that surfboard?”

  Jim laughed softly. “Not only didn’t get it, but didn’t want it anymore! I used my old board for another few years, then mowed lawns for another summer and bought a different board with that money.”

  “Oh...How old are you? I’m 13," Jake offered.

  “I’ll be 15 in a couple of months.”

  “So, why did you come here? I mean, you live all the way in Australia.”

  “Oh, I’ve been here before. My parents visit every once in awhile and I’ve come with them.”

  “Your parents? What did they...what did they do here? What was this place before it was a camp?” Jake asked, puzzled.

  Jim thought about how to answer. “Well, it was kind of the same, only geared to adults...not so many activities. Mostly it was a place where they could learn about handling things in life and working through stuff that bothers them.”

  Jake looked horrified. “And you had to do that with them?”

  “It wasn’t awful, really. I got to play a lot whilst they did what they did. Actually, even though it was hard to talk about things sometimes, we always got on better afterwards, at home. They treated me less like a kid and they listened to me and...it’s hard to explain...But I think if they hadn’t come here, things would have been different in my family. Not so good.”

  Jake frowned, but all he said was “Huh.”

  The silence was broken by croaking, first one alone, then another and another. They seemed to be taking turns, like the Budweiser toads. Jim switched the flashlight on again. Several pairs of eyes were reflected back. They heard a single splash, and the other eyes remained.

  “I really like Amanda Bynes,” Caroline leaned over and whispered in Dara’s ear. “I felt bad when she had such a hard time.”

  “Me, too. She was so good in What A Girl Wants. I love that movie!

  “Sssshhh!” someone hissed.

  Dara lifted her slanted brows and shrugged. They were quiet for awhile, enjoying the silly story, then laughing at a ridiculous, blue Paul Giamatti, the guy who played the slimy producer. Even Corinne laughed. By the time Frankie Muniz finally delivered his “Truth is not overrated” line, most people were ready to call it a night. For some reason, they were wiped out, even though it was only 10:00pm.

  Cal turned off the set, and people got up, stretching and yawning. Corinne joined Dara and Caroline as they made their way back to the cabin. A jaw-cracking yawn from Dara broke the silence. “Well, are you glad you didn’t stay in and read?” Caroline asked her.

  Dara nodded her head, yawning again. “And I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m too tired to start Brisingr tonight. She slumped on the bunk, watching Caroline gather up her pajamas, toothbrush, and toothpaste, and head for the bathroom. Dara hadn’t moved when Caroline came out, but she had thought of something while she sat there. “I didn’t see your brother tonight,” she commented offhandedly.

  Caroline shared a look with Corinne, who had been sitting on her own bunk, dragging a pick through her cur
ls. “No, he probably wanted to draw. He likes that better than watching movies...or just about anything else.”

  Reluctant to give up the subject of Drew, Dara said “I saw him swim today. He’s good!”

  “I know, the doofus! He’s disgustingly good at just about anything he tries, but he’d rather do art. You have no idea what it was like growing up with him.” She brooded a moment on past grievances. “At least I’m better at team sports, and I’m way better at science. Guess I take after my dad that way.”

  Dara wanted to talk about Drew more, but couldn’t think of a way to bring him into the conversation again. She got unexpected help when Corinne chimed in. “Your brother’s nice. He tried to help me with my marshmallows last night...and he’s not bad looking!” she added with an impish smile.

  Caroline stared at her. “Are you seriously trying to tell me you like my brother? I mean like like my brother?”

  Corinne tossed her curls. “No, I’ll leave that to Dara,” she said teasingly.

  Dara turned bright red and made a show of turning pages in the Teen People.

  “Dara?” Caroline challenged her.

  Dara turned another page without looking up. When she finally did look up, she found both Caroline and Corinne watching her expectantly.

  She rolled her eyes and threw down the magazine. “OK, OK. I...think your brother is cute...and nice”.

  “And?” Caroline prompted.

  “And...” Dara began. “And I...like him,” she admitted reluctantly.

  Both of the other girls squealed and hurried over to sit on either side of her.

  “Did he say anything to you?” Corinne demanded.

  “I think he likes you,” stated Caroline with conviction.

  Dara looked at her hopefully. “Really? Why do you...what makes you think that?”

  “He keeps looking at you. He usually doesn’t pay any attention to my friends. And he’s never drawn a picture of any of them.” Dara had borrowed the picture from Toby to show Caroline and Corinne. “Want me to ask him?”

  “No!” Dara said forcefully. “Please, please don’t say anything to him about this!” she pleaded.