There's a Bat in Bunk Five

by Paula Danziger

  “Barbara’s always involved in causes,” Mark says. “I don’t think this is going to be one of her better choices.”

  Ted says, “Let me know if I can help.”

  I have this funny feeling in the pit of my stomach. How can they doubt that Barbara’s right? Am I wrong to think everything she does is perfect? Maybe I can show them all and be the one person who is able to reach and help Ginger.

  I scrape off the burnt parts from my French toast and cover it with syrup. Calories that will go straight to my hips.

  Corrine finishes and says, “I’m going out for a quiet walk. It’s probably going to be my last chance of the day. Marcy, I’ll meet you back at the bunk to finish getting ready.” She waves good-bye.

  “Smile, Marcy. Ginger is only one twelfth of the cabin. It’ll be all right.” Ted pats me on the arm. “And I’ll be around to give you a hand.”

  Mark laughs. “After you finish working with our seven- and eight-year-olds. That’s not going to leave you with much spare time. Although something tells me that you’re turning into a charter member of the Marcy Lewis fan club.”

  It’s Ted’s turn to turn pink.

  Mark looks at me. “You must have some special power, Marcy. This young man was much admired by many last summer but spent the entire time with the kids and working on his music. I’ve never seen him act like this.”

  “Man cannot live by guitar alone,” Ted says and grins at me.

  My turn to blush again. “I guess that makes me your pick,” I say. “Guitar pick, get it?”

  Everyone groans appreciatively. I guess I’m handling this okay, but I wish I’d brought my brother’s teddy bear, Wolf, with me. I could use it now. I bet Wolf would love to be filled with bug juice.

  CHAPTER 5

  Countdown. They’ll be here any second.

  Barbara and Katherine, the nurse, have set up a registration table on the lawn in front of the main building.

  Corrine’s up at the cabin. I’m waiting to greet our kids and then bring them up to her.

  The first car arrives and stops. The parents emerge and try to pull a kid out of the backseat.

  He’s screaming, “Don’t leave me here. I promise to be good. I won’t even ask for my allowance. I promise. I’ll practice my clarinet at home every day.”

  I think of Stuart, who’d give anything to be here.

  Barbara walks up and starts talking to the kid.

  Ted comes up beside me and says, “I bet he’s going to be in my bunk. He looks the right age—about eight.”

  Sure enough Barbara calls out, “Ted, come here and meet Max.”

  Ted walks over, puts his arm on Max’s shoulder, and they go up the hill.

  More cars drive up, more parents, more kids.

  It’s an epidemic.

  Counselors are running up and down the hill, bringing kids and gear to the cabin.

  “Marcy, here’s someone for you.”

  Barbara says, “Marcy Lewis, Linda Allen.”

  I grin and the kid grins back.

  Her parents stand there saying things like, “Please, remind her to write to us,” and “Make sure she eats her green vegetables.”

  I nod.

  We take her trunks over to the area designated for our bunk so the truck can bring the baggage up later.

  As Linda and I walk up the hill, she says, “What’s red and green and goes one hundred miles an hour?”

  I shake my head.

  “A frog in a blender.”

  Gross. But funny, in a sort of sick way.

  “I’m going to be a stand-up comic,” Linda offers. “I’ve come here to try out my material and to learn how to perform in front of groups that aren’t my family.”

  “I hope that you never do that joke in front of a group of ASPCA members.”

  “What’s red, green, and brown, and goes one hundred miles an hour?”

  I sigh. “I don’t know and I’m not sure I want to know.”

  Linda grins. “The same frog a week later.”

  It’s a good thing my stomach’s had a chance to settle from breakfast.

  We get to the cabin. I take Linda inside to meet Corrine and then start down the hill again.

  Linda yells, “What’s green and makes loans?”

  “Chase Manhattan Pickle,” I yell back.

  As I continue down the hill, I wonder whether all of her jokes are going to center around the color green and whether her whole family is fixated on that color. Money, vegetables, frogs, pickles. I bet she’s got some jokes about the Incredible Hulk.

  By the time I get back to the registration table, there are four campers waiting, saying good-bye to their parents and talking to Barbara.

  Three of them are “old-timers”: Ellen Singleton, Betsy Zolt, Alicia Sanchez. They tell me I don’t have to lead them up the hill, that they know the way and can lead Robin Wiggins, a new camper.

  I watch the three go up the hill, arm in arm, with Robin sort of hanging back.

  Maybe I should have gone up with them anyway. It’s not always easy to know what’s the right thing to do.

  Ted walks up. “Surviving?”

  “Yup. Except for having to listen to some frog jokes. How you doing?”

  “Fine. One of the kids is a bed wetter, though, and he brought up a rubber sheet. Some of the guys were making fun of him.”

  “What did you do?”

  “Took the kids who were doing the teasing aside and talked to them. And put the kid with the problem in a bottom bunk. I was told a joke too. What’s got a red nose, white face, and lives in a test tube?”

  “What?”

  “Bozo the Clone.” He grins.

  I groan.

  “Marcy,” Barbara calls out.

  I run over.

  “Marcy Lewis. Risa Hess. Helene Gerver.”

  I welcome them.

  Risa’s mother says, “Please make sure that she wears her teeth positioner at night.”

  Her father says, “And that she doesn’t lose it. I’m sick and tired of replacing them.”

  From Helene’s mother I hear: “Make sure that Helene gets to bed on time. And don’t forget she needs a little night-light.”

  “Oh, Mom,” Helene looks down at the ground. “Stop embarrassing me.”

  I take out my notebook and write down the instructions.

  “Can’t we come up and inspect the cabins?” Mr. Gerver asks.

  “Sure,” I say.

  “I’ll be all right. Come on. Let me go up without you. Nobody else’s parents are going up,” Helene begs them.

  “We just want to make sure everything’s all right.”

  Helene looks up in the air. “They’ll probably want to look at my honeymoon suite when I get married.”

  Mr. Gerver laughs. “Okay, we won’t come up. Kids. They always think we baby them too much.” He looks at the other parents.

  Helene nods.

  I take Helene and Risa up the hill.

  We pass Jimmy, who’s putting chemicals into the pool.

  Risa runs up to him, grabs him by the legs, and yells, “This year I want to be one of your girl friends.”

  He grins and pats her on the head. “In a few years.”

  Helene and I just stand there watching.

  Risa starts jumping up and down. “I’m so glad you came back. I was afraid you wouldn’t be here, that there’d be no one good to have a crush on. And I’m old enough now. Look, I even got my braces taken off.”

  She smiles at him.

  He examines her teeth.

  “She’s still got to wear a tooth positioner at night,” Helene says.

  Risa glares at her.

  I laugh. I can’t help it.

  Jimmy says, “I’ll put your name on the list, Risa.”

  “Use indelible ink,” she says.

  “What’s your name? I’ll add yours too.” He turns to Helene.

  “Zelda Pinwheel.”

  I’ve got a feeling I’m going to really like Helene
.

  As we continue up the hill, Risa yells, “Don’t forget, Jimmy. I’m going to be a famous actress someday. You’ll be able to say that you ‘knew me when.’ ”

  We get up to the bunk.

  The old-timers hug each other, and I make sure the new kids are introduced.

  Corrine has them start to make a sign for the cabin.

  I leave, head down the hill, and wave back at Jimmy, who is standing in the sun, working on improving his tan.

  I wonder if my name’s on his list and what the number is.

  There are four kids waiting when I get back to the table.

  Barbara says, “Marcy, except for Kitty, all of these young women are here for the first time. Be sure to point out all of the important landmarks to them.”

  I get the names first. Janie Weinstein. Kitty Amoss. Bobbie Caputo. Stacey Reed, who is carefully carrying an instrument case.

  We start up the hill.

  “Don’t forget the important landmarks,” Janie giggles. “I’m from New York City and camp there means something totally different.”

  I look at her and laugh. “Okay, city slicker, I’ll show you the wilds of New York State.”

  I stop at a tree. “This is a tree. You can tell by the bark, by the leaves on it, and because it grows out of the ground. It’s not a counselor because it doesn’t have a whistle around it’s neck.”

  “We’ve got trees in Central Park. Only there’s usually a mugger behind them.”

  We check, discover no mugger, and continue with the tour. “This is a goat.”

  “I knew it wasn’t a counselor, no whistle.” Janie nods.

  “It looks like my study-hall teacher from last year,” Bobbie offers.

  “Who is that absolutely adorable boy?” asks Janie, pointing.

  I look up expecting to see Jimmy, but it’s Ted. He’s holding a crying kid in his arms.

  We go up to them. Ted is talking to the kid.

  “Alvin, this is my friend, Marcy. Marcy, please tell Alvin that goats don’t eat people.”

  I start to laugh until I take a look at Alvin’s face. He’s absolutely terrified. Tears are streaming down his pale face.

  “They don’t bite. I promise. Sometimes they nip, but that’s just play. It won’t hurt.” I figure I’ve got to tell him the truth. “Just don’t leave paper around them.”

  Stacey tugs on Alvin’s sneaker. “Watch me.”

  She slowly moves to the goat and pets him.

  I’m so glad the goat stands there calmly.

  She turns around. “See, it’s all right. Honest. Let me carry you and show that he won’t hurt. Marcy, please hold my flute. Carefully.”

  I nod and take it.

  Alvin clings to Ted for a minute and then goes into Stacey’s arms.

  He looks so tiny . . .and very scared.

  Stacey stands by the goat, not moving.

  Alvin’s holding on for dear life.

  Finally she stoops down and starts to pet the goat.

  Alvin keeps his head buried in her shoulder. Finally he turns around and looks at the goat.

  Janie whispers to me, “Will they be all right?”

  I nod as Ted puts his hand on my shoulder.

  Alvin nervously looks and then puts his head back on Stacey’s shoulder.

  Finally he looks again and slowly puts his hand out to touch the goat.

  The goat nuzzles him with his nose.

  I relax. I only wish my letter had been so lucky.

  Alvin gets out of Stacey’s arms and moves closer to the goat.

  After a few minutes Stacey takes Alvin by the hand and brings him back to Ted.

  Ted says, “You handled that well. Do you know many goats?”

  “No, but I’ve got a younger brother,” Stacey says.

  Alvin hugs her leg. “Be my friend.”

  She nods and pats him on the head.

  “You were great,” I say, handing her back the flute. “Now I think we should head up to the cabin and get settled.”

  Ted says, “I’ll see you later,” takes his hand off my shoulder, and grins at me.

  As we go up the hill, Bobbie says, “Is that your boyfriend? You sure are lucky.”

  “Ted and I are just friends.”

  Why do eleven- and twelve-year-olds ask so many questions?

  We arrive just as the truck comes up with all of the suitcases, sleeping bags, and trunks.

  A girl from the maintenance staff, Annie, is driving. “All of your kids are here except one and we’re not sure she’s coming. So we decided to bring this up so the rest of you can unpack.”

  “Who’s the last one?” Betsy asks.

  “Ginger Simon,” Annie says.

  “Oh, no,” yells Ellen and pretends to throw up.

  Every other returnee has the same reaction.

  “How come we’re stuck with her? She’s supposed to be with the younger kids, isn’t she?” Betsy wants to know.

  Corrine says, “We’ve got her. That’s enough of that reaction now. People can change. Maybe she has. I want you to give her a chance . . .and I also think you can set a good example since you’re older.”

  “Now you sound like my mother,” Risa says.

  Corrine continues. “Well, I mean it. We want everyone here to have a good time. We also hope everyone learns how to get along with people.”

  “Ginger’s not people. She’s an animal,” Risa says.

  “Try,” Corrine says.

  “Okay, okay,” the old-timers grumble.

  “Let’s get unpacked,” I suggest.

  Everyone brings the stuff inside and puts it away.

  The kids look at what each other brought and talk about swapping.

  Corrine and I go into our little room.

  “I knew it wouldn’t be easy when they found out about Ginger.” Corrine makes a face.

  “Maybe she’s changed,” I say.

  “You’re just like Barbara, always looking on the bright side.” Corrine smiles. “Well, maybe she has. Maybe we’ll get lucky and she’ll decide not to come back.”

  We go out to the kids.

  Janie’s taking an upper bunk with no one underneath it. “This will be my penthouse apartment. In case the dreaded Ginger doesn’t return, I can always turn it into a duplex, two floors, with the lower bunk for parties.”

  Corrine returns to our room and comes out again, carrying a bag of Charms lollipops. “Who wants one?”

  Most everyone yells, “Me.”

  Bobbie says, “Thanks, but I don’t eat things with sugar. It’s bad for you.”

  “Me neither.” Ellen shakes her head. “And I don’t eat meat either.”

  “Since when?” Risa asks.

  “I became a vegetarian last year.”

  “Ugh,” says Linda.

  Everyone but Bobbie and Ellen grabs a lollipop, yelling, “I want cherry swirl.” “No orange.” “No raspberry.”

  “I can’t make up my mind.”

  “One each,” I yell. “Save your appetites for dinner.”

  Kitty says, “Unless things have changed drastically, I’d rather not. Has the food gotten any better?”

  Alicia giggles. “Oh, Kitty. You always complained about the food and then ate four servings.”

  Four servings. How can she be so thin?

  The door swings open.

  “Well, here I am. Bet you were all hoping I wouldn’t show up.” In walks a frowning kid. Her bangs are practically covering her eyes, and her hair is braided in pigtails.

  “Welcome, Ginger. Have a lollipop.” Corrine holds one out to her.

  “A bribe? No thanks. I brought my own stuff. If you don’t take anyone else’s things, you don’t have to share your own. Where’s my bunk?”

  I point to the one beneath Janie.

  “I don’t want a lower bunk. I was here last year. I should get to choose before one of the new kids.”

  “Whoever gets here first, gets to pick. You know that,” Corrine says.

&
nbsp; Everyone’s standing around, not saying a word. Standing real straight. Kind of nervous and angry.

  Janie’s sitting on the top of her bunk.

  Taking the lollipop wrapper off, she says, “Oh well, there goes the duplex.”

  Ginger turns to Stacey. “Guess you must be one of the scholarship kids. They always let some of you in.”

  I’m shocked.

  Stacey takes a step backward.

  Ginger continues, “I should get your bunk. My father pays full price. I’m not a charity case.”

  “You’re disgusting,” Betsy says.

  “Thank you,” Ginger says. “I just love compliments.”

  Stacey quietly steps forward.

  It’s all happening so fast. I don’t know what to do.

  “Just because I’m black doesn’t mean my parents can’t afford to pay.” Stacey looks like she’s going to cry.

  I think about how wonderful she was with Alvin. I wonder how Ginger can say something like that.

  Kitty tosses her blond hair and says, “As a matter of fact I’m here on a scholarship, and I’m not giving up my bunk for a little creep like you. You were trouble last year and I can see you haven’t changed.”

  Ellen goes up to Stacey and puts her arm around her shoulder. “Don’t judge the rest of the campers by this rat.”

  Alicia says, “Last year she told me I should go back to Puerto Rico and leave America to the Americans. When I tried to explain that we were part of the U.S., she called me a rotten name. Ignore her. She’s not worth it. They should never have let her come back.”

  Corrine says, “Ginger, I want to talk to you privately.” Grabbing her by the arm, she takes her outside before anyone else can react.

  The room’s absolutely quiet. Everyone seems frozen into place.

  I try to think of what Barbara would do. “I think we should sit down and talk about our feelings about what just happened.”

  Everyone looks at each other.

  Finally they sit down.

  “I think we should just totally ignore Ginger, pretend she’s not here,” Kitty says.

  A couple of the kids agree.

  “Maybe she’s got a lot of problems that make her act that way,” I say.

  “We all have problems. That’s no excuse,” Janie says.

  “Marcy, you don’t know how terrible she can be.” Ellen frowns. “Last year they almost sent her home, but they decided to give her another chance, the suckers.”