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For my sister, Amy Boitano.
Both of us have good memories of summer camp in Arizona.
—M. A. F.
CHAPTER ONE
The scorpions, tarantulas, and rattlesnakes that live just outside the Moonlight Ranch main gate stay well out of the way on Camper Arrival Day, when the bare patch of ground they call home is overrun with human activity—cars pulling in and out, meetings and reunions, parents helping campers with heavy loads of luggage.
Scorpions, tarantulas, and rattlesnakes are shy and peace-loving creatures. They want nothing to do with so much action.
While a few Moonlight Ranch campers always arrive on their own by shuttle from the Phoenix airport, most drive in with their parents. That late-June morning, families began arriving at ten, and by ten forty-five, Hannah Lehrer from Long Island, New York, was having second thoughts about her decision to come back for a second summer as counselor in Flowerpot Cabin.
Beside her stood the reason for those second thoughts, Olivia Baron, a tall, striking eleven-year-old black girl with drama queen tendencies and a scary-good vocabulary.
Hannah knew Olivia well. Hannah had been her counselor the year before and had greeted Olivia with a big hug when she alighted from the SUV her parents had rented for the drive. After that, the two had chatted eagerly about the summer to come.
“This year Flowerpot Cabin will totally dominate Chore Score!” Olivia announced. “Purple Sage is going down!”
Purple Sage was another ten-to-eleven girls cabin, and Chore Score, the daily measure of how thoroughly cabins were cleaned, was a big deal at Moonlight Ranch.
Hannah laughed. “My friend Jane’s the counselor in Purple Sage again this year.”
“What about the campers?” Olivia asked.
“One returning, the others new,” said Hannah.
“I hope it’s not that Brianna girl coming back,” said Olivia. “She is stuck-up!”
“Come on, O. She’s not that bad,” said Hannah. “O” was Olivia’s nickname.
“Oh, no-o-o!” Olivia moaned. “That means she is the one coming back! Is she here yet?”
“I don’t think so,” Hannah said. “Jane told me she’s coming on one of the airport shuttles. Can I help you, Mrs. Baron? That crate looks heavy.”
“It is! And thank you, Hannah.” Together they hefted the crate up and onto a handcart already piled with Olivia’s possessions. “What have you got in here, anyway, Livia?” her mom asked.
“That one?” Olivia studied it for a moment. “My backup iPad, my speakers, some batteries, some chargers, a game platform, controller, video monitor . . . and I think extra shoes.”
Hannah’s heart sank. “Uh, Olivia? Mrs. Baron? You know about the new no-electronics policy, right? You signed the contract. You must’ve.”
“What’s that mean—no electronics?” Olivia asked.
“Oh, dear,” said Mrs. Baron. “My assistant sent in the paperwork. What is it that I missed?”
Anticipating that some parents might need a refresher on the policy, the camp director had given each counselor a copy of the letter describing it. Now Hannah pulled out the letter, unfolded it, and handed it to Olivia’s mom.
Dear Moonlight Ranch families,
More than half a century ago, my parents established a sleepaway camp at their beautiful working cattle ranch in central Arizona. At first the camp was a modest affair, but over time it has grown into the nationally renowned operation that you know so well.
My own Moonlight Ranch journey began when I was a boy barely old enough to flake hay. I have seen many changes in the ensuing years, one of which brings me to my point in writing to you today. Recently, our highly qualified and caring professional staff has observed that our campers, like young people the world over, engage ever more frequently with their electronic devices.
The result, in too many cases, is that campers physically surrounded by our beautiful and expansive environment are mentally buried in the same restrictive screen experience they could have in their bedrooms at home.
For this reason, we at Moonlight Ranch have decided to declare camp property an electronics-free zone for the upcoming summer. No electronic devices of any kind, including cellular telephones, will be permitted. If parents need to get in touch with their campers, they may call Paula in the camp office anytime, day or night. Likewise, campers urgently needing to contact parents will have access to Paula around the clock.
In addition, all campers will be expected to write at least one letter home per week. In the same spirit, parents may wish to reciprocate by writing cards and letters to their campers.
To minimize misunderstanding and ensure that summer gets off to a smooth start, a contract outlining the no-electronics agreement is enclosed for your signature.
Thank you for your understanding, and we look forward to another rewarding summer for your sons and daughters here with our livestock in the wholesome Arizona desert.
Sincerely,
Jonathan S. “Buck” Cooper, Camp Director
P.S. As always, if you have any questions, please contact Paula in the camp office.
Olivia read over her mom’s shoulder. As she did, her hand sought out the phone in the pocket of her shorts. By the time Mrs. Baron was done reading, Olivia was gripping her phone with white-knuckled devotion.
“I can’t live without it!” she cried. “My friends will forget I exist!”
“Oh, darling. I am sorry,” Mrs. Baron said. “I should have read this before. But don’t you think it might be a nice idea to go a short while without all your gizmos? I wish I could give that a try.”
This comment did not help matters. In fact, it catapulted Olivia into full-on drama queen mode. “A whole summer is not a short while!” she wailed. “You don’t understand anything!”
It was then that Hannah questioned her decision to return to Moonlight Ranch.
To keep from saying something she’ d regret, Hannah turned and looked across the desert. In her mind’s eye, she saw the marble-lined corridors of the New York museum where she could have worked that summer, the dresses and high heels she ’d be wearing, the weekends at the beach with her friends.
And she saw the best part of this parallel summer, her new boyfriend, Travis. He was the first real boyfriend she had ever had.
What am I doing out here in the middle of nowhere? she thought. The sunshine is too bright. The air smells like dust and horses. My new jeans scratch, and my boots are heavy. My face feels sticky with sweat and sunscreen.
To top it off, I’m arguing with an eleven-year-old!
Hannah sighed and mentally shook herself. This was the summer she had chosen. It was time to step up.
“Olivia?” She looked back at her camper. “During camp, your social life is here, and no one else has a phone either. Sorry, but you’re going to have to leave that crate behind. And hand over your phone, too.”
Slam! Olivia’s dad closed the hatch of the SUV and turned to Hannah, smiling. “Whoa,” he said, then, “Livia”—he looked at his daughter—“I think you might have met your match.”
Olivia’s dad was George Baron of Baron Barbecue Sauce, a staple on the shelves of every grocery store in America. His and his wife’s faces were even on the label. On the scale of Moonlight Ranch celebrities, the two of them
were right up there with Brianna’s mom, Natalya Silverbug, a former model who now sold a high-tech brand of dust mop on a shopping network.
Olivia folded her arms across her chest and set her jaw. She looked ready to do battle for her right to keep her phone. Then, all of a sudden, she backed down. “Oh, all right, fine.” She pulled the phone from her pocket and handed it to her mom. “I guess I can live without it for one summer. It’ll be good for me, right?”
Hannah wondered what had caused Olivia to change her mind so abruptly—but she was too grateful to say anything.
Mrs. Baron looked surprised too, but then recovered. “Exactly,” she said, “and writing letters is fun. I’ll send you some stickers to make them pretty, and some markers if you want. How would that be?”
“That would be cool, Mama,” said Olivia. “Thank you.”
Olivia’s father shot Hannah a look that said thumbs-up. At the same time, a voice came from across the parking area. “Hannah! Over here!”
CHAPTER TWO
Hannah recognized the voice and wheeled around. “Emma!” she cried.
Olivia looked too, and here came Hannah’s camper number two, Emma Rosen from Pennsylvania, jogging toward them. Halfway there she stepped on a loose rock and stumbled. Uh-oh, thought Hannah. Off to the nurse already?
But Emma stayed on her feet, kept moving, and kept smiling.
“Let me look at your hair! It’s so long!” Olivia greeted her friend by tugging her brown wavy hair, pulled back with a bandanna—a style acceptable only at camp.
“Too long?” Emma asked.
“Yeah. No. It doesn’t matter—I’m so excited to see you I could die!” Olivia grabbed Emma, and then both girls grabbed Hannah.
“Okay, okay.” Hannah felt a little overwhelmed.
“Now you have to give over your phone,” Olivia told Emma. “That’s Buck’s rule this summer. Can you believe it? I thought for sure I’d die!”
Hannah wasn’t ready for another phone discussion. “Let’s go say hi to your parents, Emma. Olivia, can you show your mom and dad the way to Flowerpot Cabin? I’ll see you in the dining hall for lunch.”
Olivia said, “I know the way to Flowerpot Cabin.”
Emma grabbed Hannah’s hand and tugged her across the lot. Her parents—dad a doctor, mom a lawyer—were friendly but a little distracted, and as rumpled as Olivia’s were glamorous. Hannah had just finished saying hello and pointing them toward Flowerpot Cabin when someone tapped her on her shoulder. She turned at the same time Emma squealed, “Grace!”
“Hello, Hannah. Hello, Emma. Have you noticed that it’s awfully—” Grace Xi’s question was stifled by Emma’s big hug.
Looking at them, Hannah smiled. Her campers were delighted to see each other; didn’t she deserve some credit for that? She was good at being a counselor. Maybe coming back this summer wasn’t a mistake.
Last year the Flowerpot girls hadn’t gotten along at first. Then, inspired by a dream about her late grandfather, Hannah had come up with the bright idea of having them make a batch of cookies one night after lights-out.
She had hoped the baking project would bring them together, and it had. In fact, they had all wanted to share Flowerpot Cabin again this summer.
“This way to Flowerpot Cabin.” Hannah pointed for Emma and her parents. “And I’ll see you in a few minutes in the dining hall. Come on, Grace. Your turn.”
Grace was from Massachusetts, and her mom and dad both worked in high-tech firms near Boston. Mrs. Xi wore khakis, a white polo, and Top-Siders. Her light brown hair was pulled back with a headband.
Mr. Xi was Chinese, shorter than his wife and rounder, too. He had been born in Singapore, Hannah remembered. Last year Grace had gotten letters with foreign stamps.
Hannah shook hands with Mr. and Mrs. Xi and asked about their trip. Like most of the other families, they had flown into Phoenix the day before, spent the night in a hotel, and then rented a car for the ninety-mile drive northeast to Moonlight Ranch.
“You know where you’re going?” Hannah asked for the third time that morning. “Flowerpot Cabin?”
“Grace will show us,” said Mr. Xi.
Three down, one to go, thought Hannah, and she looked around for her last camper, Lucy Ambrose from Beverly Hills, California. In the crowd, Hannah recognized a few young faces from the summer before and said hello, but there was no Lucy.
Should she worry? She knew Lucy’s family was eccentric and—in spite of their fancy address—not as well-off as most of the others who sent campers to Moonlight Ranch. She also remembered that Lucy’s mom’s outfit—green short shorts with red cowboy boots—had caused a stir at the farewell lunch last year.
But none of that explained why Lucy was late.
• • •
At Moonlight Ranch there are fifty cabins laid out behind split-rail fences on either side of a dirt road—girls’ cabins to the right, boys’ to the left. The dining hall and kitchen are near the entrance gate. The pond, horse barn, playing fields, show ring, campfire pit, and outbuildings are over a hill where the road dead-ends.
Beyond that, cattle graze, each one bearing the Moonlight Ranch laughing moon brand on its flank.
At lunch the Xi, Baron, and Rosen families sat around a long table, ate sandwiches and drank milk, chocolate milk, or iced tea.
“I’m sure the summer will pass quickly,” said Mr. Baron. “In fact, it doesn’t seem so long ago that we were all here together. But aren’t we missing someone?”
“Are we?” Dr. Rosen looked around.
“Yes, honey. We’re missing Lucy,” said Mrs. Rosen.
“And Vivek,” said Olivia, looking at Grace.
Mr. Xi looked at his daughter. “Who’s Vivek?”
When Grace didn’t answer, Hannah said, “I remember Vivek. He was in Lasso Cabin. I think I saw his name on the list for this summer. Do you guys know for sure if he’s coming back?”
“He wrote to Lucy after the coyote and everything,” Emma said. “So yeah, he’s coming back. But I haven’t seen him.”
Olivia looked around. “Me neither. Have you seen him, Grace?”
“Come on, O, give her a break!” said Emma.
Olivia grinned, and Hannah remembered something about Grace having a crush on Vivek. To help her out, she changed the subject. “Wasn’t that awesome about Lucy and the coyote?” Hannah asked. “Did you all hear that story?”
“Oh, yes, but I don’t think I learned the details. Can you remind us?” asked Mrs. Xi.
Olivia said, “I can! What happened was a really, really, really huge wolf with really, really, really, really long teeth was getting ready to ambush a chubby little boy Lucy babysits so—pow!—Lucy kicked a soccer ball and nailed it, and it was half dead but slunk off into the underbrush. Meanwhile, the little boy was totally fine, not eaten at all, and afterward Lucy was on TV because she was a hero!”
“It was a coyote,” said Grace.
Olivia shrugged. “Same thing.”
Emma said, “The point is that Lucy’s a hero.”
Olivia asked, “Where is she, anyway, Hannah?”
“She’ll be here soon,” said Hannah, hoping she was right.
While the campers and their families ate, Buck had been making the rounds. Now he came to Hannah’s table. “Welcome back. Welcome back. It’s a pleasure to have you girls here again. Flowerpot Cabin, I think?”
“It’s the best cabin in the whole camp!” said Olivia.
Buck smiled. “Well, I don’t know about that. But I’m sure glad you think so. Hannah,” he went on, “I count one, two, three campers. Are we missing somebody?”
“Lucy Ambrose,” said Hannah.
Buck frowned. “I’d better look into that. Excuse me, won’t you? Good to see you all.”
When lunch was over, it was time for the parents to leave. The three families trekked out of the dining hall down the path and under the Moonlight Ranch entrance gate, which was topped with a rendering of the laughing moon brand, an
d back to the makeshift parking lot. In central camp, there were cottonwood trees for shade, but out here the midday sun blazed full force, turning parked cars into solar ovens.
To give the families space for their good-byes, Hannah walked a few paces behind. She was feeling better about her decision to return to camp. Like the other counselors, she had arrived four days earlier for O & T—orientation and training. Up till now it had been nice to have Flowerpot Cabin to herself, to fall asleep to the songs of owls and crickets.
But she didn’t think it would be so bad to fall asleep to the sounds of girls giggling and whispering. She had missed them.
Hannah gave herself a pep talk: It was going to be a good summer.
Even though she would learn absolutely nothing about art.
Even though she’d never once get to the beach.
Even though she missed Travis a whole lot already.
It was going to be a good—
Wait. What was that noise? Was she imagining it? It was something from the city, not something you expected at camp.
She looked around . . . and realized she wasn’t crazy. Other people heard the noise too.
But what was a siren doing in the middle of the Arizona desert?
CHAPTER THREE
Along with everybody else, Hannah turned to look in the direction of the siren—down the gravel drive that led to the state highway half a mile away.
Soon she saw what looked like a puff of dust illuminated by flashes of red and blue. . . . The puff of dust became a smudge shimmering in the heat. . . . The shimmering smudge became a white police cruiser, moving fast, its lights whirling, siren blaring.
About fifty yards out, the driver must’ve let up on the gas, because the cruiser slowed, until finally, just as it reached the entrance to the dirt lot, it rolled to a stop. At the same time, the sound of the siren dropped in pitch and volume from shriek to moan to sigh and then, finally, silence.
The blue-and-red lights went dark. The cruiser sat. The assembled parents, campers, and counselors watched and waited. Nobody said a word.
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