by Mary Hershey
There were huge hoots from everyone about that, except from me.
I didn’t think I’d be able to eat with this terrible case of altitude sickness. But maybe I’d see Maxey in the kitchen. Which, for some unexplainable reason, made me feel an eensy bit better. Which tells you just how sick I was if I was looking forward to seeing Bosszilla. The sickness was infecting my brain!
“Well then, boys and girls,” Ms. Marshall said with a bright smile to all of us, “Camp Wickitawa is now officially in session. Mess awaits!”
And I wondered then if she meant lunch, or was foretelling the future!
Mess was very loud. We didn’t have a dining hall or cafeteria at St. Dom’s, so I wasn’t used to all the shouting, banging of trays, and blasting of dishwashers. Aurora said it sounded just like her cafeteria at Sam Houston’s. She knew how to do everything, like picking up your tray first, then remembering to get your silverware before you got in line for “chow,” which is the camp name for all your meals. I was glad I had studied my handbook and knew some of this stuff already.
The good news was that we were having mac ’n’ cheese for lunch, which I love hugely. I can outeat anyone on the planet when it comes to mac. The bad news was that someone in the kitchen had the horrible idea of putting peas in it, which made me near sick to look at. And there were brussels sprouts for a side dish, which I did not like at all. I didn’t know if you had to eat some of everything or not. But I didn’t want to hurt Coco’s feelings, so I let him serve me everything. But my stomach rolled like a hard snowball every time I looked at my tray. The sight of giant chocolate chip cookies at the end of the chow line cheered me a tiny bit.
I didn’t see Maxey anywhere in Mess, which worried me. Maybe she was having altitude sickness too and went home without me. It could run in our family!
“Do you guys see my sister anywhere?” I asked Nit and Aurora, who were in front of me in line. They both looked around and then shook their heads.
“Maybe she works way in the back,” Nit suggested. “That would be great—then you wouldn’t have to see her! I’m stuck with Phil in my face all day long.” She put a pinky in one of her macaroni shells and then sucked it off. “Yum!”
“Mr. Coco!” I shouted over all the noise. “Can you tell me where Maxey Maloney is? She’s my sister and she works here.”
He didn’t even look up but kept spooning gross globs of mac ’n’ peas onto plates.
I shouted louder. Maybe he couldn’t hear from being in the war. “She’s very skinny and nearly an albino. Without the pink eyes, though.”
He looked up, then motioned with his shoulder toward the back. “She’s out back washing spuds. But don’t interrupt her! I finally got her to stop blabbing. She’s got a lot of work. Eat your lunch. You’ll see her later.”
I turned toward the dining room and watched where Aurora and Nit set their trays. Donal was making a happy dash toward them. I still needed to get my drink.
They did have a soda machine with as many refills as you wanted, just like Maxey said! I studied all the flavors—lemonade, root beer, punch, iced tea, and Coke. But no orange soda—which is my favorite! I’d been sure they’d have it, and I had planned to drink it at every meal. I wondered if this was all they would have all week. I filled my glass with iced tea, but without any ice. I was not very happy about it.
I drug myself across Mess and set my tray down next to Nit’s. She and Donal were going yakkety-yak about ninety miles an hour. Aurora thumped her basketball like a drum on her lap and sucked down her second glass of Coke. She looked extremely happy. As happy as I wanted to be—as happy as I’d thought I was gonna be as soon as I got to camp.
I started plucking the peas out of my mac ’n’ cheese, but I doubted it would do much good. I would still be able to taste them.
“Don’t ya like peas, Copperknob?” Donal asked. “Fork ’em this way!”
Donal’s CIT, Matt, came over to the table and laid a hand on Donal’s shoulder. “Over here with the menfolk, Donal. Let’s leave these nice ladies to themselves.”
Donal opened his mouth to complain, but Matt shot him a no-nonsense look. Donal lifted up his tray like it weighed a ton and followed him back to one of the boys’ tables. He turned back once and gave Nit a sorrowful look and shrugged his shoulders.
“Did you find Maxey, Ef?” Aurora asked.
“I didn’t see her, but Coco said she’s in back cleaning potatoes.”
Nit giggled. “Oh, man, I bet she is hating her life right about now. Coco looks like he might be a bit tough on kids too.”
“Be good for her,” Aurora said.
“Can I get any of you a drink refill?” We all looked up to see the most gorgeous boy any of us had ever laid eyes on. He looked like he’d just stepped out of the Snow White fairy tale. He was super tall—maybe seven feet—and had eyes as blue as a Wild Thunderberry shake at Big Arlene’s. And he had a lot of shiny brown hair that was tucked up in a hairnet.
“I’m Swat, by the way,” he said, pointing to his name tag.
“Hi-i-i-yah!” Aurora said, her mouth dropping open. “Do you play basketball?”
He laughed. “Yeah, that’s how I got the name.”
“Oh-h-h,” Aurora breathed. “You defend the paint!”
“Yup! That’s me. You play?”
“Whenever I can.” She grinned, giving her ball a twirl on her index finger.
He whistled through his teeth. “Very nice! So, what are you girls having? I’m filling drinks.”
I realized then that Maxey would probably be willing to peel potatoes all day long—with her bare teeth, if she had to. Just so she could be near Swat.
After he walked off with our glasses and drink orders, Nit said, “I can hear the hearts breaking all over Camp Wickitawa now.”
I nodded. “I don’t think Maxey is going to be griping about being in the kitchen much.” I took a careful bite of my lunch, and as I’d suspected, pea-juice leakage was ruining the cheesy taste. I put my fork down and bit into my cookie to get rid of the bad flavor. But the cookie tasted like cardboard, and the chocolate chips could have been dead flies, for all I could tell. Altitude sickness, if that was what I had, was god-awful.
Nit shoved her cookie over to me. “Here, you can have mine, too. I’ll be too full.”
“Thanks, Nit, but that’s okay. I’m not very hungry.” Aurora gave me a concerned look and I added with a smile, “Guess I’m just too excited to eat! Woo-hoo! We’re here!” I faked.
Aurora pounded me on the back and gave Nit one of her fancy basketball-team handshakes. “Yes! No homework! No housework! No brothers!”
While she and Nit finished their “No” list, I wondered if the bus had left yet. Maybe it had been a giant mistake to come. And how mean was it to leave Pretty Girl with Mrs. Korn, who she didn’t even know? Maybe I should talk to Mom before she left for her retreat the next day! What if during all her free time she finally had time to think and decided she wanted to get back with Dad? What if I felt sick all week long? How was I ever going to learn to swim? What if Aurora decided she couldn’t be best friends with a fourth grader who couldn’t swim?
I needed to talk to Frank. I looked around Mess, but I didn’t see him anywhere. The boys were all sitting with Matt and the swim teacher, Carey Bucko, trying to balance spoons on their noses.
I leapt up from the table. “I need to go talk to Sister Lucille. I’ll be back.”
“But what about your lunch, Effie?” Nit asked.
“I’m done. You can have it if you want, Aurora.”
“Wow, thanks!” she said, sliding my tray right over.
I spied Sister Lucille sitting in a corner in the back with Ms. Marshall.
I stood behind her, trying to be polite, while Ms. Marshall finished talking.
Which she didn’t for about three hours, it seemed. Sister Lucille finally turned around. “Hi, Effie! Need something?”
“May I speak with you privately, Sister?” I asked.
/> “Sure—excuse me. I’ll be right back.”
I went out on the big porch in front so I could talk without any nosybodies listening in.
“Sister! I need to talk to my mother. Could you call her for me? Do you have your cell phone?”
“Are you okay, Effie?”
“I think I might need to go home.”
She moved me over to a little bench and sat me down. “Cricket told me you didn’t want to get off the bus. Are you feeling a little homesick? That’s perfectly natural.”
“No! I’m not homesick, Sister. I have altitude sickness. I didn’t know I would. It will probably last all week, and I’ll just spoil everyone’s good time.”
“Effie, remember when we talked about how camp was a time to be a bit more independent, and how we were only going to use the phone for emergencies?”
“This definitely qualifies as an emergency, Sister.”
“This isn’t the kind of emergency I was talking about, Effie. I think you’re going to be just fine.”
“But you can’t be absolutely sure of that, can you?”
“Sure enough that I don’t think we need to call her,” she said, giving my shoulder a squeeze. “But when you have your rest period this afternoon, I think it would be a nice time to write her a letter. How does that sound?”
Horrible! I wanted to shout. “Do you know where Frank is, Sister?”
“He’s in the cabin getting things ready. But, Effie, he won’t let you use his cell phone either. I know the first day away can be a little tough. But just you wait. You are going to have so much fun here! This is going to be an unforgettable life experience.”
“Yes, Sister,” I said. “Thank you, Sister.” I knew there was no use begging her. You can’t change a nun’s mind once she sets it. Nuns have excellent willpower from all their years of being obedient to God, not dating or having babies, and getting up early to pray.
“Want to walk over to your cabin with me and get a sneak preview before all the other girls?” she asked.
I shrugged. “I guess.”
“Let me just dash in and tell Cricket and the girls where we’ll be.”
I dropped my head into my hands. This was terrible! I couldn’t even make a phone call to my own mother. I might as well be in prison! Which made me think of my dad again. I wondered if his first day of prison felt this wretched. I bet his feet didn’t want to get off the big bus either.
When Sister came back for me, she wasn’t alone. She had a sweaty-looking girl in a hairnet with her.
I jumped up. “Maxey!” I’d never been so glad to see her in my life. “Have you talked to Mom today? Is she okay? Did she say anything about being lonely or anything?”
Maxey looked at me like she didn’t have any idea who I was. She leaned over and whispered something to Sister Lucille.
“Oh,” she said, looking at Maxey and then back at me. “She says that she promised your mom she wouldn’t talk to you at camp.”
“Oh! But it’s okay. Tell her I don’t mind, Sister!”
Maxey looked up at Sister and shook her head. “May I be excused, please? I have an awful lot of work to do.”
Sister sighed. “Fine, but will you tell me, then, so that I can tell her, that you think your mother is going to be just fine this week?”
“I think our mother is going to be just fine this week,” she recited back to Sister, not even looking at me.
“Maxey! Did you ever stop to think what could happen if Mom has all this free time while we’re gone, and gets lonely for Dad? I read on the Internet that some prisoners can have cojugular visits in trailers with their wives! Do you really want our mother doing that while we’re at camp?”
Sister cleared her throat. “I think you mean ‘conjugal’ visits, Effie.”
Maxey crossed her arms across her chest, then tilted her head up skyward. “Sister, you might want to remind your camper that Mr. and Ms. Maloney are divorced and they would not be entitled to any visits in a trailer.”
“All right, you two—”
“Excuse me, Sister,” Maxey said. “I really need to get going. Coco needs me in the kitchen.” She turned on her heel and sashayed off.
Maxey was loving this. I wanted to put my hands around her scrawny neck and shake her.
Sister put her arm around me and led me down the short stairs. “Sorry, Effie. I thought that might help. I didn’t realize when your mother told Maxey not to talk to you this week that—well, that she would be on complete mute. But I suppose that will make things a bit easier for you this week at camp, now, won’t it?”
Week! A week? I couldn’t even imagine lasting the day stuck out here in this puny air that didn’t have enough oxygen in it. And what if Coco put peas in everything? I was sure picky eaters didn’t get Outstanding Camper of the Week! Neither did girls who were freaking out about their mothers and their old cat.
I just had to pull it together, even if it killed me.
The cabins looked exactly the same as they had in all the pictures I’d ever seen of them. They were made out of logs, and you wouldn’t be surprised at all to see Abraham Lincoln coming out of one any minute. Mom had a picture of her Angel Scout group sitting out in front of hers.
“You’ll be here in Coyote cabin with Cricket and Phil,” Sister Lucille said, her voice excited. “Since we have enough staff for the girls, we’re going to spread out in two cabins instead of piling everyone in just one. It gives us a bit more elbow room. I’ll be with the rest of the girls next door in Elk.”
She threw open the creaky door of Coyote and led me inside. The floor was made of old wood planks, and there was a potbellied stove in one corner. Metal beds were lined up in two rows, with a small dresser next to each one. And there was a tall locker next to each bed, too, for hanging up stuff and storing your suitcase. Or hiding in, like Mom did once. Each dresser had a little bottle on it with cut wildflowers, and a gift bag with our names written on the outside in glitter.
“See?” Sister said. “Here’s your bunk. Your suitcase is right here, all ready for you to unpack and settle in.”
I drug my feet over to where she pointed. The mattress was extremely skinny—not like the one I had at home with the sinky space in the middle. The pillow was flat as an envelope. I’d never be able to sleep there. And Maxey once told me that you can go permanently insane if you don’t sleep for four straight days. What if you didn’t sleep for seven days?
I swallowed hard and licked my lips, which were dry as dust. My bed was right under a window too. That was bad. If any of those wild animals I’d read about broke in at night, I’d be their first snack! I think I’d rather go insane than get pulled apart limb from limb by a grizzly or licked to death by one of those hog-nosed skunks.
“You can take a peek in your gift bag, Effie, if you’d like, but you need to wait until the rest of the girls come to open it. Cricket made them for you. Wasn’t that thoughtful of her?”
I shivered. “I’ll just wait. Can we go back now, Sister? It’s cold in here.”
She picked up my hands. Rubbed them quickly between hers, which were warm, just like Mom’s. “Effie, mark my words, by next Saturday, I am going to have to pull you out of here kicking and screaming.”
Probably because I will have gone insane by then! “Will you let me call my mother tomorrow?” I asked. “We could call her early. She gets up at five a.m.”
“If I say yes, will you stop frowning?”
“Yes, Sister,” I said, baring my teeth in what was meant to be a smile but didn’t feel like one at all.
“Did you notice who you’re bunking next to?” she asked.
I turned to look. I had Nit on one side and Aurora on the other.
“Could anything in the world be better than that?” she asked.
Yeah, those same three beds and our gift bags lined up in my bedroom on Comstock Lane. Except that I was pretty sure that would put me out of the running for Outstanding Camper of the Week.
I was not rea
dy to give up my big dream. I just didn’t know how I was going to survive it.
• • •
Thirty minutes later we were all back in Coyote, and it was nearly as noisy as Mess. Seven girls could make a lot of noise. Well, make that six girls. I sat on my bunk pretending to look through my gift bag while everyone else squealed like piglets and unpacked their things.
Besides me and Aurora and Nit, in our cabin we had Kimber and Georgia, Naomi and Drew. Kayla, Missy and Sissy (the Issys), Mary Peters and Mary Paul (the Marys), and Becca were in Elk cabin. That made seven girls in Coyote and only six in Elk, but Kayla was as much trouble as two kids. I was so relieved that she was not in our cabin. I think Sister must have picked to be in Kayla’s cabin on purpose so she could keep her in line. Good luck with that!
The gift bags were super nice, and normally I would have been over the moon about them. Cricket had given us each a water bottle with our name on it, lick-on tattoos, sugarless gum, earplugs, a sparkly gel pen for writing home, and a single-serving envelope of hot chocolate mix, the kind that comes with marshmallows already in it.
Cricket’s bed was closest to the door on our side of the cabin, and Phil’s was on the other side.
“Girls, gather round!” Cricket called. “We need to have a meeting before swim time.”
Everyone cheered, but I think it was about the swimming part, not the meeting part. We all sat down cross-legged on the floor in a circle.
“Welcome to Coyote, everyone!” Cricket said. “I’m so happy I get to be here with all of you. This was my cabin when I was in fourth grade.”
“It was my mom’s cabin!” Kimber said.
“My mom’s too,” Naomi added.
“Phil and I wanted to take a few minutes to get to know you each better, and to go over a few things,” Cricket said. “We thought what we’d do is go around the circle and you can each tell us the one thing about camp you’ve been looking forward to the most. I’ll start. And then, Phil, you can go, okay? So, let’s see, the one thing I’ve been looking forward to the most is getting the chance to play some of the wicked tricks on all of you that my counselor played on me!”