Camp Life

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Camp Life Page 27

by Lucinda Maison


  Chapter 30

  Happy Trails To You

  Weak morning light filtered through the cabin window. Still early, then, Toby thought. He inhaled deeply, the air dry and already warm. Soft breathing coming from the bunks next to his told him the twins were still asleep. Toby turned his head on his pillow and looked across the cabin at Jake. He was curled up on his side with one arm thrown out over the edge of the bunk. His face was serene, brows relaxed above the straight nose and slightly curved lips. It occurred to Toby that he almost looked like a different person, remembering the brooding, scowling kid who barely acknowledged him when he first arrived at camp. People are funny…you just never know, he thought. No, that wasn’t right. Sometimes you think you know, and then you find out later you were completely wrong.

  His eyes focused on a pinecone Patrick had dropped on the table the night before. He could see the brown scales clearly, a glob of amber sap suspended on one of the spikes. As he stared, his vision narrowed to exclude everything but the pinecone. Toby felt his heart speeding up, excitement making his eyes shine. He deliberately slowed his breathing and concentrated as hard as he could, willing the pinecone to roll toward him. His eyes began to blur and he refocused his effort. Nothing happened for perhaps a minute and then, to his amazed delight, the pinecone bounced! Not a big bounce, but it definitely moved! He sat up quickly and squinting, watched in disbelief as it rolled on its axis so that the tip was now pointing at Jake instead of him.

  Sean’s eyes popped open. “Whoa! Did you feel that?”

  He grabbed his pillow and threw it at Patrick’s head. “Hey, did you feel that?” he repeated.

  Patrick grunted, threw the pillow back at Sean, but missed and hit the floor. He stuck his head under his own pillow.

  Toby stared at Sean, his mouth hanging open. “You…you felt that?” he asked, stunned.

  “Yeah, did you feel it, too? It wasn’t a big one. Patrick and I were in a tournament in California once, and there was a 6.4. That was really cool!” he grinned. “Stuff crashed on the floor with that one.”

  Toby continued to stare uncomprehendingly at Sean.

  Sean raised his eyebrows. “Earthquake? Things shake, you know?”

  Toby swallowed hard. Earthquake. He fell back onto his pillow, covering his face with his hands, and began to laugh.

  His chest heaved he laughed so hard, and Sean started laughing even though he didn’t know what was so funny.

  Patrick lifted a corner of the pillow and peered out with a pained expression. “Something is funny at o-dawn-thirty?” he demanded.

  Toby gasped for breath. His stomach hurt and a few helpless tears had rolled down his face. He shook his head, tried to speak, but started laughing again.

  Patrick let the pillow fall back over his face.

  Sean retrieved his pillow and lay back down again. He would get an explanation from Toby later. Right now, he thought, Patrick had the right idea.

  Toby’s laughter tailed off. He let his eyelids drift closed, feeling impossibly content. Sighing hugely, he rolled onto his side, deciding there was time for a little more sleep before breakfast.

  Jake managed to sleep through the entire episode, earthquake and all.

  Even this day, Dara did laps in the pool before breakfast. Drew had thought about taking a final hike, but didn’t want to miss the time with Dara. They swam, lap after lap, strong, sure strokes that carried them on and on.

  Jake wandered up to the barn to say goodbye to Squidward. As he passed Nate’s stall, he saw the big horse snuffling up grain from a shallow rubber pan resting on the straw. Sarah stood with her arms around his neck, one hand raking the coarse hairs of his mane. Jake stopped, his feet scuffing the dirt, and she turned at the sound. Tears streaked her face.

  He gazed at her silently, his face calm. “He’s a good horse,” he said softly, nodding his understanding.

  Sarah nodded in return. “He is a good horse.” She smiled through her tears. “See ya, Jake.”

  Jake gave her a crooked grin. “Later, Sarah.” He moved on to Squidward’s stall. Patting the soft nose, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the handful of baby carrots he’d snagged from the kitchen. He felt the velvety lips move across his palm, hoovering up the carrots and making short work of them with very large, efficient teeth.

  Things will be different, Jake thought, the same, but different. To his astonishment and secret delight, Ron had already made plans to visit him and his mom in New Mexico. He told Jake he’d always wanted to see the Sangre de Cristo mountains, and now he had three reasons to go to New Mexico.

  Jake smiled, giving Squidward a final pat. He was going home. He would get to see Ron again. He had Caroline’s phone number and picture in his cell phone, and her email, too. She had threatened him with dire consequences if he failed to text, write, or call her. She said at the very least, they could trade recipes. That was assuming he learned how to cook. He was already an expert at eating. He’d talk to his mom about it. And he had Jim. Jim whom he had never fooled, who had his back no matter what. How lucky could he be?

  “Corn nuts!” Corinne grinned into the camera. She leaned on the oven with one hand, a shovel in the other. Jim snapped the picture.

  “Hey, I’ll take one of you both, if you want,” they heard Cal say. He continued walking up the hill until he stood by them, holding out his hand for the camera.

  “Oh, and one of me and Rocky, too, OK?” she asked.

  Cal handed the camera back to Jim, stooped and picked up Rocky with a grunt of effort. “Dang, you are one solid dog!”He placed him in Corinne’s arms, and Rocky got in one good lick to her chin just as Jim took the picture.

  Jim laughed and turned the camera around to show her. Rocky looked up at her adoringly, a long pink tongue plastered to her face.

  “Perfect! Now, us!”

  Cal took back the camera and snapped several shots of them, then Jim took one of Cal, Corinne, and Rocky. Corinne wanted one of Cal and Jim, so they posed on either side of the oven. “Say squirrel!” she sang out.

  Jim uncharacteristically rolled his eyes, then gave up and smiled for her. Cal laughed as she got the shot, gave her a quick hug and winked at Jim. “A jumper cable walks into a bar,” he began.

  Instead of groaning, Jim and Corinne grinned at him. “What happened?!” they chorused.

  Cal took a deep breath. “Jumper cable walks into a bar. The bartender says, Ill serve you, but don’t start anything.”

  This time they did groan, but Cal was already ambling off toward the lodge. Rocky seemed inclined to stay with Corinne, but a sharp whistle sent him flying after Cal.

  Left alone with Jim, Corinne became suddenly fascinated with her shoes. For this special morning, she had chosen her favorite pair of Van’s, blue and white plaid with black laces, along with orange capris, a t-shirt with broad green stripes, and a silver filigree clip holding back her curls in a thick ponytail.

  Jim cleared his throat ostentatiously. When she finally got the nerve to look up he was smiling at her with such tenderness that she lost her breath.

  “I am going to miss you so much,” he said simply, placing his hands on her shoulders.

  “Oh, yeah? What will you miss most?” she managed, her eyes holding a teasing challenge.

  He folded his lips as though deep in thought. “Probably…no one asking me to pronounce “squirrel”.”

  “I love it when you say “squirrel”. She laid her hand along side his jaw, smiling, and leaned in to place her lips softly on his.

  “Squirrel, squirrel, squirrel,” he said, when she pulled back.

  Laughing, she kissed him again, three times in quick succession. This time when she tried to pull back, he gathered her in close and held on. Her hands were folded against his chest and she stood there, head resting on his shoulder, content.

  Dara stopped outside Drew’s cabin door, waiting for him to get whatever he wanted her to have. She wrapped the towel more securely around he
rself, and watched a ladybug crawl up the doorframe. And then he was back, filling the doorway, a quiet presence that soothed and gladdened her heart.

  He silently handed her a slim folder. Opening it slowly, she saw that it contained a single drawing. It had been done in colored pencil, the fine strokes bringing to life a forest pool. Tall pines encircled the tiny glade, feathery ferns and pockets of flowers dotted the grass and led up to the water’s edge, the pool itself a clear, unbroken surface except for the still figure standing in a shaft of greenish light.

  Dara gasped. “She’s beautiful!” she breathed, tracing a finger over the elf’s flowing hair, taking in her strength, the intelligent eyes, the mouth full of mischief and humor.

  “She’s you.”

  Dara looked up so quickly she almost dropped the picture. She shook her head in denial, and Drew merely pointed at the figure in the drawing.

  She looked more closely, staring at the face, and then her eyes blurred. Her voice shaking a little, she asked “Is this…is this really how you see me?”

  Drew took the picture from her trembling hand, put it back in the folder, and set it down on the step. He took her hands, willing her to meet his eyes. When she did, he said again, “She’s you….minus the pointed ears, of course, but everything else…she’s you.”

  Dara couldn’t speak. She just stared at him for a few seconds, then wrapped her arms around his neck and subsided onto his chest.

  “Does this mean you like it?” He stroked the back of her hair, releasing a faint whiff of chlorine, a smell with good associations for him.

  She pushed away, yanking up her towel a little farther, and nodded solemnly. “Drew…I…” she gave up, taking his face in her hands and kissing him.

  Drew’s arms went around her and he returned the kiss so sweetly Dara did not want to stop. When he finally broke the kiss, he rested his chin on the top of her head, and with a satisfied sigh, held on to her.

  “Thank you,” he heard her whisper after a moment, and his arms tightened around her.

  “You both have real talent, you know. I almost hate to admit that to this one, considering the head he’s got on him…” Ron teased, tilting his head toward Patrick.

  “Hey!” Patrick cried in mock injury.

  Sean gave him a superior look, and Patrick started to go after him, but Ron’s next words stopped him.

  “Would you rather play lacrosse or voice cartoons?”

  “Both,” Patrick replied without hesitation.

  Ron grinned. “That’s what I expected. So, for you, I’ll look forward to seeing you play a college or professional game sometime, and hearing your voice in a Pixar flick or on Nickelodeon.”

  He turned to Sean. “And you…,” Ron pretended to give it some thought. “A unique combination of strength, loyalty, honesty, intelligence, and athleticism. You look so much alike, and I see some shared traits, but there are many ways you stand out as individuals. I’d appreciate it if you’d send me a text or an email sometime, Sean, and let me know what you and Patrick are up to.”

  Dazed from Ron’s compliments, Sean could only manage a faint, “Sure.” He clasped Ron’s outstretched hand.

  Ron’s firm grip relaxed as he turned to offer his hand to Patrick.

  “Thanks for everything, man,” Patrick told him, in his own voice and with heartfelt sincerity.

  Breakfast had been relatively quiet. People exchanged numbers and shared plans while they ate. Noreen got up to say a few words, thanking everyone for being part of what had been, to her, a very special time, and inviting them to come back the following summer. Shelley and Cal made short speeches, and for once, Cal refrained from making or even threatening to make any jokes. Ron also thanked everyone, praising kids and parents alike for giving of themselves to come to camp, to learn, to forge friendships, and to have fun.

  There were a few tears as people filed out of the lodge, scattering in different directions to do final cabin checks, pick up luggage, take a last look around, and say their goodbyes. Dara’s dad was impatient to get on the road, glowering nearby as Dara hugged first Toby, then Corinne, Caroline, and finally, Drew. They all turned to wave as the McConnell’s pulled away from the parking lot, Patrick hanging out the window, shouting goodbye in a Munchkin voice, actually several Munchkin voices.

  Corinne’s dad finished loading up the CRV, and Allison had to let go of Rocky to get in the car. Jim and his mother walked up to wish them a safe journey. They were staying on for a few more days before flying back to Australia. Jim pulled Corinne aside while Nicky spoke with Corinne’s dad. They had already said everything that needed saying earlier in the day. She put her arms around him and tried to memorize everything about the moment, the warmth of his body as he held her tightly, the smell of pine mingled with Jim’s eucalyptus shampoo, the sounds of people laughing, car doors slamming, and tires rolling on gravel. She did not waste time babbling, simply enjoyed everything that filled her senses.

  Jake came up as Corinne opened the car door. “Hey, not leaving without saying goodbye to me, are you?”

  Corinne grinned, and he pulled her into a quick hug, shutting the door for her after she got in the car.

  Jake had loaded his own luggage, along with his mom’s, in the old Ford truck. Ron would be driving them to the airport. He was very glad they were flying back, instead of taking the bus. He clasped hands with Jim, and then they were hugging each other. Jake pulled back, gave Jim a thumbs up and a smile, and made his way to the truck. Camp had been nothing like what he’d expected, except maybe for the s’mores. He had not sung any songs, made any crafts (the treasure map didn’t count, he thought), and he hadn’t even seen a canoe. He did have a cell phone full of new contacts, a giant seed pod, two portraits that told him more than he ever thought to face about himself, and a smile that kept popping up at odd times for no apparent reason. He slid next to his mom on the truck’s bench seat, and Ron pulled slowly away. Jake’s hand rested on top of the doorframe, fingers drumming to a tune, though his ear buds dangled down the front of his shirt. The sun warmed his face and a smile played around the corners of his mouth.

  The End

  About the Author

  Lucinda grew up swimming past the breakers and occasionally making lifeguards nervous, and building forts and hunting for lizards in the chaparral. Now she lives in Idaho, where she enjoys exploring mountains, rivers, and deserts, and is entertained by two schnorgis, a smarty-pants with ears a jackalope would envy, and another, loveably half a bubble off plumb. She is a nurse in her day job, loves Star Trek and horny toads, and is grateful for kind people.

 


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