Campfire Cookies

by Martha Freeman

  There is no fence around Boys Camp, but there is a wooden gate blocking the path before you get there. It’s not high enough to keep anybody out. It’s more like a warning label: Beware of boys!

  In one move, I vaulted the gate, which creaked under my weight. Against the rhythmic, regular night sounds of birds and insects, the noise was jarring. Would it attract sentries?

  Better move faster!

  The path through Boys Camp was smooth and unobstructed. From the gate to Silver Spur Cabin should have been a thirty-second dash, but I made it in twenty-five.

  I saw no sign of sentries, but if they were as sneaky as everybody said, that didn’t prove anything. I hoped Olivia’s blue pajamas, baggy and long as they were, were doing their job as invisibility cloak. If they were, then nobody could catch me—right?

  That’s what I told myself.

  The interiors of the cabins at Moonlight Ranch are all laid out the same way: bathroom on one side, front door on the other, one window on the far side of the wall with the door, the other on the perpendicular wall. The second window was behind the desk, which was going to create a landing platform for yours truly.

  Each cabin had a nameplate on the side, the letters burned into the wood like the brand on a steer. As I passed, I read them: YUCCA . . . HOBBLE STRAP . . . CONCHO . . . BLAZING STAR . . . and finally SILVER SPUR.

  Counselors lock the doors overnight, but they leave the windows open and the screens down for ventilation. Emma, the boss, had made me practice climbing in through the window of Flowerpot Cabin. I hoped that practice would pay off now.

  I set the plate of cookies on the ground, pressed the screen gently with my left hand, slipped my right palm under the bottom edge, and pushed up.

  Yes! Flowerpot Cabin’s screen was sticky, but this one slid easily. Soon it was open wide enough that I could pick up the plate and shove it through. Then I hopped up to shift my center of gravity over the sill and pushed my head and shoulders inside.

  This was it, the last moment for changing my mind.

  Why not simply leave the cookies on the desk and run? If I did, I’d be back in my own bed in four minutes and safe from the sentries forever.

  But that wouldn’t be PFHL.

  According to PFHL, the cookies had to be placed on Lance’s pillow to ensure maximum effectiveness both of flour power and Lucy’s spell.

  So I wriggled forward and pulled up my knees till I was crouching on top of the desk, then—silently—I twisted around and put my feet on the floor.

  I was in Silver Spur Cabin! I had done it!

  And, no offense to the boys of the world, but the whole place smelled like sweaty socks.

  Now my job was to drop off the cookies and go, but can you blame me for stopping five seconds to enjoy my triumph?

  I had done the baddest thing a camper at Moonlight Ranch could do, sneaked into an opposite-sex cabin in the middle of the night! I was like Eve biting the apple, the patriots throwing tea into Boston harbor, Rosa Parks sitting at the front of the bus.

  Grace Xi, rebel at heart, sticking it to the man.

  I pursed my lips to keep from giggling.

  There was a faint patch of starlight shining on the desk behind me, but otherwise Silver Spur Cabin was so dark I might as well have been blind. Even so, my job should have been easy. I just had to leave the cookies and . . .

  Wait a minute.

  How did I know for sure which bunk was Lance’s?

  All that planning. All that thinking. All that spy work . . . and we, the membership, had never asked ourselves that question!

  As I stood there paralyzed, my natural-born cowardice returned.

  It didn’t help that whoever was in the top bunk to my right picked that moment to roll over and mutter “rrm-rrm-rrmumble.”

  My heart stopped. What if whoever it was really, truly woke up? What if he had to go to the bathroom? The time for thinking was past. I had to get moving now.

  Feeling my way, I sidestepped to the head of the only single bed, which I knew was to my right. Hannah slept in the single bed in Flowerpot Cabin. So that meant Lance also slept in the single—didn’t it? It made sense, but we should have found out for sure. Anyway, the single bed was obviously occupied. I could hear the sleeper breathing. Without even exhaling, I set the plate of cookies down where I estimated the pillow had to be.

  Phew! I must have estimated right. If I had put the plate on someone’s face, I’d definitely know it by now.

  But—uh-oh!—just as I let go of the plate, the murmle-mumble boy in the top bunk made another noise.

  And then . . . OMG!

  He sat up!

  I couldn’t see him in the dark, but I heard sheets rustle and suddenly felt like I was being watched. In three fast moves I hopped up onto the desk, out the window, and put my feet down on the walkway.

  There was only one problem, a problem I didn’t notice till I was ten steps down the path.

  My right foot was bare! In my hurry, I had left a shoe behind.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  Vivek

  At first I felt sure the intruder who came through the window was a psycho intent on murdering us all.

  But then I smelled the cookies.

  Oatmeal cookies.

  Whoever the intruder was, she lived in Flowerpot Cabin. So, yeah, she probably was a psycho, but a murderer? Unlikely.

  I was going to say, “What are you doing?” Or, “Hi; which one are you?” Or, “You know you will get in so much trouble if you are caught in Boys Camp, right?”

  But then I realized that my speaking up would wake someone, and then she’ d be sent home for sure.

  So I didn’t say anything. I just listened to her moving around in the dark. Best I could tell, she was over by Jamil’s bed. She didn’t seem to be anywhere near me.

  Enough time passed that finally I couldn’t stand the suspense, and I sat up, hoping to see her face.

  No luck. But she must have seen me move, because she gasped and then—bump-bump-bump—I guess she stumbled or something.

  Was it Emma?

  But no. As the intruder departed, the star glow caught her hair, which was straight and black.

  Grace.

  That was when it came to me what she had been doing in Silver Spur Cabin—the same errand she had asked me to do!

  I felt a terrible pang. To make a simple cookie delivery, Grace had risked being caught by the sentries in Boys Camp. That’s how important it had been to her!

  If I had just said yes and done her a favor—if I had trusted her—she wouldn’t have had to take the risk.

  Staring after her, I saw that the screen was still open, so I dropped off my bunk to close it. Crossing the floor, I kicked something—Grace’s shoe!

  In her rush to get back out the window, she must have kicked it off.

  Oh, great. Because of me, Grace was not only risking the sentries to get back to Girls Camp, but she was doing it with one foot bare!

  I had to do something. I had let Grace down before, and I didn’t want to do it again.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  Emma

  I am not a fast runner. In fact, I am a slow runner, not to mention a little bit of a klutz, which you will know if you have been paying any attention at all.

  Even Lucy knows I am a klutz.

  By the time I got to the Boys Camp gate, I was convinced that getting out of bed had been a mistake. It was scary out here! The air was cool enough to give me goose bumps, or maybe I had goose bumps because bats were flying all over the place, there were huge, scary big-eyed owls hooting, and the crickets were singing their hearts out.

  As for tarantulas, snakes, lizards, and scorpions—they didn’t come out at night, did they?

  If they did, I wouldn’t be able to see them on the path. What if I stepped on a huge, meaty Gila monster?

  And those were just the dangers from nature. On top of them add Buck’s sentries, who lurked somewhere, or everywhere. The sentries were silent an
d invisible, so the fact that I hadn’t heard or seen any only proved they were nearby.

  Besides that, where was Grace? She couldn’t feel my moral support if she didn’t know I was here for her. I thought of the famous question about the tree that falls in the forest. If nobody heard, did it actually fall?

  The tree-in-the-forest question is abstract, theoretical, and philosophical. But what happened a few moments later was none of those things: I fell flat on the ground.

  To be specific, I was climbing over the Boys Camp gate and my right foot caught one of the crossbars, tripping me in midclimb, so that I flipped over the top and landed on my back with the wind knocked out of me.

  If you have never had that experience, it is terrifying, like you’re paralyzed and you’ll never take another breath and that’s it, you are done for.

  I knew I wasn’t done for.

  One thing about being a little bit of a klutz, I have had my share of accidents, including having the wind knocked out of me. So, scary as it was, my brain expected I’d be able to breathe again if I just waited—and my brain was right. The real trouble was that my right ankle felt tingly and strange.

  Then, a second later, after I’d managed to gulp the air needed to get my heart moving again, I realized I had another problem.

  From somewhere not too far away, I heard whispering!

  But it was just Grace. Right?

  No—it couldn’t be Grace! She was on a solo mission. She had no one to whisper to.

  The only explanation was sentries, sentries talking about how best to catch me! I had to get back to Girls Camp, and I had to do it now!

  I rolled over onto all fours, brought my knees up under me, and tried to stand but couldn’t. With weight on it, my ankle crumpled, and now it wasn’t numb anymore; it was throbbing. I couldn’t even crawl to safety. There was no cover on either side of the path. There was nowhere to hide.

  I closed my eyes like a little kid trying to disappear and waited forlornly to be hauled off to the camp office, and then to Phoenix, and then to the airport. I wondered if they’d let me put on clothes, or if I’d have to fly back home wearing my pajamas.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  Vivek

  Grace is fast, but I am faster.

  Or maybe that is true only when she is half barefoot.

  We were still in Boys Camp when I caught up to her next to Yucca Cabin. I didn’t want to yell and attract attention, so I reached forward and touched her shoulder, causing her to look back with wide and terrified eyes. Then she recognized me and took a breath and stopped running . . . and smiled.

  I guess I was better than the other likely pursuers—a sentry, or a grizzly bear, or a zombie.

  We stood there for a few seconds together, catching our breath, and then she noticed I was holding her shoe.

  “Thank you,” she whispered, and took it.

  “You’re welcome,” I said, “and, Grace, I’m sorry I didn’t do that favor you asked. I should have trusted you.”

  Grace slid her foot into the shoe, then bent down and tugged the laces tight. “Apology accepted,” she said, and then she looked up at me.

  You know something? Grace is sort of pretty.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  August 12, Friday

  Dear Mom and Dad,

  How are you? I am fine.

  Camp continues to be an excellent learning experience. Every day I become more accomplished at horsemanship (or maybe I should call it horseWOMANship—ha-ha!), and this week I am doing leatherwork as an activity. My favorite part is beveling. I will explain what that is when I see you.

  I am enclosing with this letter the blue ribbon I won for backstroke in the camp swim competition and the blue ribbon I won for playing “Streets of Laredo” on the piano in the talent show.

  Flowerpot Cabin’s Chore Score continues to be perfect. Even though we have had some setbacks, we are still hoping to win the award at the Farewell Campfire.

  There has been some excitement here recently because some campers broke rules. First, some girls sneaked into Boys Camp. Then another camper got caught with an electronic device. Apparently this camper has had the electronic device all summer, but it was hidden in one of her trunks. I am only mentioning these things in case you got an e-mail about them from Paula in the office.

  Did you happen to get an e-mail about them from Paula in the office? Did the e-mail have any details?

  I was just wondering. There is NOTHING for you to worry about.

  Pack Trip begins Sunday, and we are all looking forward to it.

  I miss you very much.

  Love sincerely, Grace

  * * *

  Dear Shoshi,

  OMG, you will never believe all the stuff that has happened since the last time I wrote!

  First, I’m sorry about all that mail you keep getting from the Moonlight Ranch office. It is my fault. I will explain when I see you.

  Second, I have a boyfriend. His name is Vivek, and he is from Pennsylvania. I think I told you about him already because last summer I thought maybe I liked him, but I didn’t know if he liked me, and then at the beginning of camp I thought he liked someone else, but that was never true_he swears.

  Besides that, Emma broke her ankle. She could have gone home, but she said she wanted to stay. She has to wear a cast and she can’t ride her horse, so for Pack Trip she will go in the nurse’s Jeep, which has AC, and the nurse lets them drink soda and eat Fritos, so part of me thinks she is actually so lucky!

  How Emma broke her ankle is she was trying to help me carry out a secret middle-of-the-night cookie delivery to Boys Camp. When she got hurt, Vivek and I helped her, and while we were helping her, we made too much noise, and a counselor named Jack came out of his cabin and shined a flashlight on us exactly like a scene in a prison-escape movie.

  I was so scared I thought I would die!

  But Jack was nice (he is funny, too), and he sent Vivek back to bed and picked up Emma (who is not small, but Jack is strong) and carried her to Flowerpot Cabin, and Hannah gave her Tylenol because we thought her ankle was only twisted, till the next day, when it still hurt a lot and she had to go to town to get an X-ray.

  Oh, and one other thing happened. On the way back to Flowerpot Cabin, a sentry almost caught us! We never saw him, but in just the kind of deep voice you’d expect a sentry to have, he yelled at us from Girls Camp: “Halt! Who goes there?”

  Jack answered him: “ ’Tis only I, the tiniest Billy Goat Gruff! Please don’t gobble me up!”

  The sentry didn’t bother us after that.

  I couldn’t sleep the rest of that night, worrying Jack would tell the camp director I had sneaked into Boys Camp, but guess what? The next day he said if Olivia, Emma, Lucy, and I would make campfire cookies on Pack Trip, the cookies would give him amnesia and then he would have nothing to tell.

  I said, “What’s campfire cookies?”

  Jack said, “Cookies you bake over a campfire_duh.”

  I said, “How do you do that?”

  Jack said, “Look it up.”

  The other things that happened are that Jamil, who used to have a huge crush on Lucy, doesn’t like her now and is acting really weird, Olivia got ten demerits for being caught with an iPad, and our big Plan to Fix Hannah’s Life didn’t work the way we thought_but I don’t have time to add details because siesta is over and I have to mail this letter.

  Love ya always, Grace

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  August 12, Friday

  Dear Dad,

  How are you?

  I am fine.

  I am having fun at camp. I hope you are having fun working really hard like you tell me you have to all the time.

  Everything is usual here except for one strange thing that happened. Do you remember that girl Lucy from California we saw on TV that time because she killed a wolf with her bare hands? I know her now! She is a camper at Moonlight Ranch Camp too. (Did I tell you that before?)

  Lucy and I
have horseback riding at the same time, and she is nice, and we were friends until she did this strange thing, which was, she sneaked into my cabin when I was asleep and put cookies and a note with a picture of balloons on my pillow!

  Yuck!

  I don’t mean the cookies were yuck. They tasted pretty good even if they didn’t have any chocolate chips in them, and by a big coincidence they are Lance’s (my counselor) favorite kind of cookie.

  But I don’t want to be anybody’s boyfriend, and I told Lucy so too, but I tried to be nice about it.

  Okay, gotta go swimming now. It is hot here. Is it hot there?

  Love, Jamil

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  August 12, Friday

  Dearest Most Esteemed Mater and Pater,

  Please, please, PLEASE, I beg you, do not be disappointed in your one and only daughter, Olivia, who loves you very much and is very grateful for all the kind and generous things you do for her!!!

  Because, the truth is, I have SUFFERED enough.

  You already know that Buck’s rule about how campers have to give up electronics has been really, really hard on me. Not only have all my friends back home ditched me (I am SURE!), but my spatial skills have deteriorated to the point that I will never pass geometry, and I have become EXPONENTIALLY more stupid without the ability to do research.

  Just in case you don’t know, I am not the only one at Moonlight Ranch who thinks living without a phone is basically RETURNING TO THE STONE AGE. Honestly, it is as if we each expect to encounter DINOSAURS, WOOLLY MAMMOTHS, and COVERED WAGONS on the path to North Corral, and when we don’t, we are all really, really, really surprised.

  So now I am going to tell you why it was IMPERATIVE that I use the iPad that I just happened to remember was still in my turquoise trunk even though I wasn’t supposed to have it. And when I do tell you why, I know you will forgive me and possibly even apologize for ever getting cranky.