by Mary Hershey
Mr. Carey Bucko, the swim teacher, came to Ms. Hawkins’s class as we were getting near the end. I crossed all my fingers under the table hard as I could that he was coming to tell us that the lake had completely dried up overnight and there’d be no swimming all week. Or maybe that he’d decided he was going to teach us archery all week instead.
No such luck.
“Hey, kids!” he said. “Sorry to interrupt you before you’re done, but I need to know what equipment to take down to the lake.” He gave Ms. Hawkins a big smile, like he wasn’t really sorry about interrupting her class at all. I’d noticed he’d taken the huff-into-your-hand breath test before he came in. He might be in love with her, but now was not the time to be thinking about that!
“So,” he said, clapping his hands. “There are twenty-five of you, and I’m taking the girls first—”
“There are thirteen of us!” Kayla said, standing up. After Gypsy and Ms. Hawkins had fallen in love with Nit, Kayla wanted her spotlight back.
“Great, thanks!” Mr. Bucko said.
“We have a pool at home,” she butted in, “and I’ve been swimming since I was a baby. Almost everyone here has been to my house for a pool party before,” she said, looking around.
Yeah, everyone but me, I know!
“Excellent! Okay, girls, any new swimmers?” he asked, looking around.
My face burned and I thought it might start shooting sparks. Speak up, Effie! This is your free lesson calling!
“Do we have anyone who doesn’t know how to swim?” he asked.
N-O-B-O-D-Y raised their hand.
And the way he said “doesn’t know how” made it impossible for me to admit it. Made me feel like a freak, and different from all the other kids. Which I knew I was, and which I hated a lot. And then Mr. Bucko moved on so fast that I didn’t have enough time to think it through.
“Well, terrific, then!” he said. “I’ve got a whole class full of pros. We’re going to have a great week together. We’ll play some water polo, run some relays, and work on our diving out at the platform. That is, if I can ever pull you away from Ms. Hawkins,” he said with a laugh. “Girls, when you’re done, go suit up and I’ll see you at the dock! Boys, I’ll see you after that.”
All my big, rosy, sunshiny dreams of what camp would be like—
Camp Dying for It to Arrive
Camp Get Away from Bosszilla
Camp Be Like Everyone Else
Camp Me and My 2BFF
—had now just officially turned into CAMP CALAMITY!
Since I was now officially living a thousand feet above sea level instead of at my regular ground level, my thinking was getting cloudy. Because by the time I got my bathing suit and flip-flops on, I’d begun to convince myself that maybe I could fake it. I’m good at faking things. I can fake a fever and fake a smile, and I once even faked my grandpa’s ashes, but that is another story. Maybe nobody in the “pro” swimming class would notice that I couldn’t actually swim. Maybe in water polo I could be the kid on the team who stands in the shallow end and throws the ball. How hard could that be?
And maybe I could find out what day was going to be Diving off the Scary Platform Day and think of the most excellent reason ever that I had to skip it. But something that wouldn’t make me look like a big Kayla kind of wuss. Like maybe one of Ms. Hawkins’s armadillos would accidentally get loose and I could catch it. I know they don’t run very fast, because they get hit by cars a lot.
I took a long time putting on a lot of sunscreen before we left the cabin. Nit was taking a long time too. She’s very pale, like me. Cricket took some of the girls ahead and Sister stayed back with me, Nit, Kimber, and Georgia, who were finishing postcards for their parents before the mail went out. Sister had put on shorts and a tank top but said she wasn’t going swimming. She was going as a backup adult, in case Mr. Bucko needed a hand. I noticed right off that she had very muscley legs. I wondered if she has one of those kickboxing DVDs like Mrs. Triboni has for building your thighs.
As we all walked the path to the lake, I gave myself the biggest pep talk of my life. I’d been through a lot tougher things than this. I was a Maloney dame, like Mom said. I could do this. What if I already knew how to swim and I just didn’t know it?
Lake Cachumo looked just like I’d imagined it would. Only about ten times bigger! When Maxey went to camp, she sent me a postcard of it. The water in the picture was the prettiest greeny blue color, and it had big tall trees all around it. It looked that way now. Except in person, it looked way, way deeper. I started to sweat, but since I had so much sunscreen on, it got all plugged up under my skin. By the time we got down to the water, I was a big soggy sponge that needed a good wringing out.
Mr. Bucko blew his whistle and told us all to sit down on the dock so he could talk to us first about water safety.
“Great idea!” I shouted, my nerves like a herd of mean red ants under my skin. “I have a lot of questions.”
Next to me, Kayla made a quiet kissing noise to let me know she thought I was trying to be teacher’s pet. Missy and Sissy giggled. Aurora missed the whole thing because she was still dancing around on one foot trying to get her basketball tennies off without unlacing them.
I smoothed down my brand-new blue polka-dot bathing suit, which I liked very much. It had come with free matching goggles. It was my first new one. Usually I get Maxey’s hand-me-downs. I hoped it was a good floaty one.
Mr. Bucko looked up from his clipboard. “And you’re—? I want to make sure I learn all your names by the end of our first session today.”
“Effie Maloney,” I said. Uh-oh. So much for my plan of going unnoticed.
“Any relationship to Maxey Maloney?” he asked, marking something down on his clipboard. Probably Effie Maloney: Pro Swimmer.
“She’s my sister,” I said.
“Great! Nice girl. I ran into her at Mess the other night and she reminded me that she was a camp alumna. But she didn’t mention that her little sister was here! Now, when Maxey came to us, she couldn’t swim a lick. I remember it took me a while to get her to even put her face in the water. But by the end of the week, she’d nearly grown gills. Was she the one who taught you to swim, Effie, or did you take lessons?”
I licked my lips. “Um, wull—she taught me how to do a handstand underwater.”
“So she taught you how to swim?” he said.
“No,” I said.
“Ah, you took lessons, then—great! Well, when I’m done talking about basic safety, if you have any more questions, you just fire away, okay?”
“Thank you, sir.” I was pretty sure I hadn’t lied about anything, but Mr. Bucko had ended up thinking something that wasn’t true. Just then would have been a very excellent time to clear that up.
Except I didn’t. Because nothing about this whole mess would get me any closer to becoming Outstanding Camper of the Week. And with Kayla sitting less than six inches away from me, no way was I going to admit that I couldn’t swim. I would never hear the end of it.
Mr. Bucko’s safety talk only lasted seven minutes, according to my watch, which I kept staring at, praying that 11:45 would come record fast and we’d get called for chow. I doubted I could keep him answering questions for fifty-three more minutes.
My arm shot up anyway. “Mr. Bucko! According to our camp handbook, there are sixty-three different kinds of snake species here. Can any of them swim? I mean, is there any chance there might be some snakes that might want to get in the lake with us?”
“Can’t say that I’ve ever seen a snake in the water,” he said. “But great question for Ms. Hawkins’s class tomorrow.” He got to his feet. “Okay, then! Ready for a swim?”
My hand shot up again. “Mr. Bucko! Mr. Bucko!”
Kayla let out a big gusty sigh and gave me a dirty look. Aurora shot her an even dirtier warning one back.
“Yes, Effie?”
“Have you ever noticed that kids are less floaty swimming in a lake that is a thousand
feet above sea level—like here? Has that ever been a problem for any of your campers?”
He laughed. “Can’t say that I’ve ever noticed that. Interesting question! Okay, listen up, girls! I want to do a couple of things today. First off, I’m going to teach you a fun kick that might be new to a number of you. Secondly, while the group is practicing that over here, I’m going to take each of you one at a time over on this side of the dock so I can test your swimming. I probably won’t be able to get to you all today, but we can finish up tomorrow. I know a lot of you are going to want to swim out to the platform this week, and no one goes past the buoys until I’ve cleared them. Everyone got that?”
“Yes, Mr. Bucko!”
A test? There was a test on our swimming? Oh, no! I had to make sure he didn’t get to me today. Maybe I could stay underwater the whole time and he’d forget I was there.
“Great!” he said, peeling off his T-shirt. He was very tan everywhere and covered with a lot of blond fur on his front. I didn’t want to look at his man nipples, but I couldn’t help it. I bet Sister didn’t want to look either!
“We’ll get in the water in just a minute to warm up, but who here knows how to do the dolphin kick?”
I looked around quick. Only a few girls raised their hand. I stuck mine in my mouth and started buzzing down a fingernail.
“I’ve seen people do it, Mr. Bucko, and I’ve tried it, but it’s really hard!” Kimber said.
“Okay, for those of you who haven’t seen the dolphin kick before, let me demonstrate up here first. Let’s have everybody stand up. Arms overhead and feet together. Knees nice and loose. Everyone with me?” He looked around to make sure.
“Mr. Bucko!” My hand flew up again. I trusted Aurora to take care of Kayla, who I knew was gonna want to murder me.
“Yes?” he asked.
“What if you’ve never seen a dolphin before?”
He smiled. “Not a problem. Just watch me.”
“Effie,” Cricket said, “imagine how a mermaid swims. She has that big giant tail and no legs to kick. But she’s a great swimmer, right?”
“Exactly! Thanks, Cricket!” Mr. Bucko said. “Everyone, we’ll try this in slow motion. First move your chest up, and then move your hips back as your chest comes forward … right … good … unlock your knees there … better … now, thighs back as hips move forward … keep those knees bending as you roll. Imagine a big wave coming right through you.”
This was really hard! But at least it was outside of the water. I hoped everyone would be slow learners and we’d stay on the dry dock until 11:45.
“The main areas to focus on rolling are hips, knees, and ankles,” Mr. Bucko said.
He came around and checked our progress. We all looked pretty silly. “Okay, you’re getting it! Excellent! Does anyone know what swimming stroke uses the dolphin kick?”
“Butterfly!” Kayla shouted.
Figured she’d know.
“That’s the one! And the butterfly is the hardest stroke of all to master. Depending on how well you do with the dolphin kick, maybe we’ll get to that later in the week. Okay!” he said, clapping his hands. “Good work!”
And then he said the two words I’d been dreading to hear.
“Everybody in!”
Lake Cachumo is not just big and deep-looking. It is icy cold! It’s like climbing into a Slurpee. I think there might be a glacier in the middle of it. They definitely did not mention that on my postcard, or in the camp handbook! Mr. Bucko probably lost a whole year of hearing from our high-pitched screaming.
He told us that for now we had to stay on the inside of the buoys, which separated the shallow part from the deep part. He said the lake drops off steep after the buoys, and we had to have supervision to go past them. Absolutely no problem with that, sir! Off in the distance was a big platform that we would swim out to, but not today. First he wanted to see how we all did in the shallower part. Excellent plan.
The platform looked like it might be all the way to Hawaii! It was so far away you had to squint your eyes to see it. I didn’t know how anybody could swim that far. It looked like a terrible place to practice diving. How was I ever going to get myself out of that? I wondered if I could get Maxey to sneak out and teach me to swim tonight. Oh, right, that would only work if she was actually speaking to me! Why couldn’t this camp have a nice, regular swimming pool?
After everyone got all the way in the water and got all the squealing out of their systems, Mr. Bucko had us hold on to the dock while we practiced our dolphin kick. After that, he gave us kickboards and let us try it on our own. He said we could play mermaid too and try it underwater.
Nit and Aurora were excellent mermaids right off. I could see them skimming by. In fact, my whole class was pretty good at it. Except Kayla. She couldn’t seem to keep her feet together. Must be connected to the same muscle that keeps her jaws flapping open all the time.
Everyone seemed to want to have their swimming test, because whenever he called out “Who’s next?” everyone raised their hand. I went under and studied the bottom of the lake, in case he was one of those adults who like to pick the kid who doesn’t raise their hand.
I was practicing my dolphin kick, holding on to the kickboard, when I heard someone yelling my name. Really loud.
“EFFIE!”
I lifted up my goggles and turned in circles until I saw Chica standing on the dock.
“EFFIE! HI, I NEED TO TALK TO YOU!”
“Hi, Chica!” I waved and started kicking back to the dock. Least, I was trying. I wasn’t getting there very fast.
“EFFIE! COME TALK TO ME!” Chica yelled.
“I’m coming, Chica!” I yelled. My dolphin kick seemed to want to take me in reverse, not forward. “Here I am!” I panted, when I finally arrived.
“I was looking for you, Effie!” Chica said.
“I know! Is everything okay?” I asked.
“Grandpa said I could invite you over to see my room! I have a goldfish!”
“I have a goldfish at home,” I told her. “His name is Bubba. What’s the name of your fish?”
“Mom!” she said.
“You named your fish Mom?”
“Yes! She’s red on top, just like Mom and just like you!”
“Really?”
Chica nodded. “Can you come to my room now?”
I turned to look behind me. “I really wish I could, but I’m in my swimming class. Maybe after lunch! I’ll check.”
“I don’t like swimming!” she said.
“How come?”
“I can’t swim! I only know how to sink.”
“Ohhh! Didn’t your grandpa try to teach you?”
“He ran out of patience, he said. Mr. Bucko tried. But he said we would try again another day! I take a lot of patience,” she said. “I’m slow at everything!”
“Not at smiling and kindness!” I said, repeating what Mom had told me. “You’re very fast at that.”
She sucked in her breath. “I’m going to go tell Grandpa!” she said with a giant grin. “Bye, Effie! I can’t wait for you to come over!” She turned and ran down the path, her braids flying like kite tails behind her.
Thinking about kites reminded me of Benjamin Franklin and the one he supposedly flew in a storm to see if lightning was electric. I could have told him it is! It nearly cooked my goose a few weeks ago. As I headed back to my class, a sizzling idea of my own came ripping down the skies right at me.
If only I could make it work!
• • •
Sister let me go to Mr. Jimenez and Chica’s before chow was even over, since I ended up sitting alone. Aurora inhaled her lunch and then raced over to the boys’ camp for some hoops. Nit ran off to help Ms. Hawkins feed Gypsy, who she could barely stop talking about. They were going to chop up some frozen mice for her lunch. Gypsy’s lunch, that is, not Ms. Hawkins’s.
Sister first tried to get me to go sit with some of the other girls, but they were all over at Kayla’s tabl
e. Even though it was only the first day of camp and we hadn’t even had official mail call yet, Kayla had already gotten a package! Ms. Marshall let her have it early because the writing on the outside of the box said it had to be eaten or put in the refrigerator. Her rich parents had sent her chocolate-dipped strawberries and apricots. She was sharing with everyone who went to her table and made a big fuss over her.
I was happy to be going to visit Chica. Cricket walked with me over to the Jimenezes’ cabin. It was on the other side of the camp, away from all the kid cabins. It had a shady porch that wrapped all the way around it, with hanging baskets of ferns and flowers. Looked like a place where Frank would live. Nothing was broken or worn-out. I knocked on their cabin door, and Chica yanked it open before I even finished.
“Hi, Effie! Come see my room!”
Mr. Jimenez was sitting at their kitchen table pulling the guts out of a toaster. Maybe after camp I could mail him ours from home. It takes about a week and a half to even warm up a piece of bread. He gave me a friendly wave and smile before Chica drug me off.
When I walked into her bedroom, I stood there with my mouth open, trying to take it all in. Chica spun in circles all around me like a ballerina.
“Effie, do you like my room?”
“It’s—it’s—Chica—it’s so beautiful! It’s the best room I’ve ever seen!”
It was amazing! I had expected her to have a pink princess room. I figured that was why she was so excited about it. I thought she might even have a lot of dolls and we would have a tea party with them.
Instead, it looked like it might be Picasso’s bedroom! Or maybe even Michelangelo’s!
There were paintings everywhere—hanging from overhead wires on clothespins, and on the wall in big, colorful frames. The paintings were of trees and big skies, birds, and lots of faces—faces that looked so real I thought they might start talking.
“Chica!” I breathed. “Are these your paintings?”
“Yes! I love to paint!”