Ten Good and Bad Things About My Life

by Ann M. Martin

  I wanted to discuss this with JBIII, but as you know, my best friend wasn’t talking to me.

  I found a piece of paper and started a letter to my parents:

  Dear Mother and Father,

  This is your daughter, Pearl Littlefield. I am at camp and we have a bathroom situation. Which is that the bathrooms are not in the cabins—they are about ten miles away. And I don’t think you want me walking through the woods alone at night, do you?

  I paused. I realized that even if I could mail the letter to my parents that very second, they probably wouldn’t receive it until Wednesday or Thursday, which would be too late, bathroom-wise.

  I had just realized that the whispering outside had become laughing and yelling when someone came crashing through the door to our cabin. “Pearl!” It was Juwanna. “Pearl, come on! We’re going to have a water fight. Sunrise against Blue Jay. We need you. Here are some balloons. Go fill them with water.”

  I slid down off my bunk. I happen to be an expert with water balloons. In fact, we’ve had a little trouble at home on the occasions when I’ve dropped them out our windows. Once, one landed on Mrs. Olson’s head while she was standing on her patio admiring the view of Twelfth Street. But if my parents could have seen me now they would have realized that my practice was paying off.

  Juwanna and Mary Grace and I hid behind Sunrise Cabin and when Bra Girls #1 and #2 sneaked over from Blue Jay we ambushed them with the balloons. Eventually we won the whole fight on account of insects. I yelled at Vonna to watch out for the ants’ nest (which there wasn’t one) and she screamed and fell down and all the Blue Jay girls ran to her and Juwanna and I threw the rest of our balloons at the Blue Jay Cabin and when one went through a window and exploded on Jill’s bed we declared ourselves the winners.

  The Starlettes arrived at the mess hall, which is camp talk for cafeteria, dripping wet and we ate our suppers dripping wet, too, and no one said anything about that so I officially decided that overnight camp was all right even though I hadn’t had to go to Goose Lodge by myself in the dark yet.

  * * *

  Guess what. I never did go to Goose Lodge by myself in the dark. I collapsed onto my bed that night before nine o’clock and fell asleep instantly and didn’t wake up until there was sunlight shining through the windows of the cabin. I slept like that every night I was at Camp Merrimac, which was good because then I could honestly tell my mother that I hadn’t stayed up late. In fact, I was so tired from Camp Merrimac activities that when I woke up after my first night it was only because Juwanna had climbed onto my bunk and was shaking my shoulder and saying, “Pearl! Get up! You slept through the morning horn.”

  “What morning horn?” I mumbled. I tried to open my eyes.

  “That big loud horn that was blaring in our ears for five minutes. I can’t believe you didn’t hear it.” She shook me again. “Come on. You have to get up and get dressed right this second. We’re supposed to be at the mess hall and we can’t be late.”

  “But I’m not ready to get up.” I rolled over and closed my eyes.

  Then I heard another voice from below. It was Janie’s voice and it was saying, “No time to get dressed now, Pearl. You’ll have to go to breakfast in your pajamas.” When she added, “And I mean it,” I got up, put on my sneakers, and followed the rest of the Starlettes through the woods to the mess hall. I noticed that I wasn’t the only camper still in my pajamas. I wasn’t even the only Starlette still in my pajamas.

  The first thing I saw when I entered the mess hall was a giant bowl of birdseed at the end of a table full of food. But beyond the birdseed was regular stuff like corn flakes and scrambled eggs and bread and yogurt (which I personally think tastes like milk mixed with barf, but at least it’s normal food) and melon and orange juice.

  I fixed myself a plate of eggs and toast and sat with Juwanna and with the two other Starlettes who were wearing their pajamas. There was sunshine streaming through the windows of the mess hall and everyone was laughing and talking and I didn’t think I was homesick, and suddenly I felt so happy that I decided to keep a diary of the rest of my week as an overnight camper.

  Tuesday

  Day started when slept thru morning horn and had to go to breakfast in pajamas. Embarrassing but fun.

  Note: Did NOT have to go to Goose Lodge in middle of night. I think there are bears here even tho Janie says there are not.

  Saw Justine at lunchtime. Said she sat with Apatosaurus on bus in morning. Seemed a little bite mad at me.

  After supper which was cookout with hot dogs, Starlettes decided to put on show for Janie and Lisa.

  Since we had already had a talent show we decided to put on a play, and I said, “I think we should put on The Wizard of Oz and Jill should be Dorothy. Or maybe Glinda, that beautiful witch.”

  I saw Juwanna give me a strange look, but Jill was like, “Wow, you think I’m pretty?”

  And I was like, “Yeah. You could be a model.”

  And the result of all this was that we put on a good play, even though we didn’t have costumes, and also Jill never said “Help! Police!” in front of me again.

  After show, we all went to bed even though only 8:49 p.m. Looked out window by bunk. Are more stars in New Jersey than New York. Also, night is darker, as black as inside of closet when light is turned off. Really hope do not have to go to Goose Lodge alone tonight.

  Wednesday

  So far have not lost any cloths. Found packing list in duffel bag and checked all clothing and other items and everything is here. Do not miss postcard collection.

  Also, did not have to go to Goose Lodge last night.

  Also, did not have to go to breakfast in pj’s.

  BEST thing happened after lunch. Hit HOME RUN!!! Finally!!!

  By the softball field was a big board with a chart listing every camper’s name, and next to the names were spaces where the counselors made a red X each time one of us hit a home run. Lexie had hit a few home runs during the summer, and so had JBIII, even though he isn’t especially sporty, and, well, everyone had hit at least one, except for me and two of the Apatosauruses. After lunch on Wednesday the Starlettes decided to have a game of softball, Sunrise Cabin against Blue Jay Cabin, and Bra Girl #2 was pitching to me and there was silence since cheering for me was pointless but booing was a little rude, and the next thing I knew I heard a crack! and the ball was sailing through the air.

  “Run! Run, Pearl!” Juwanna yelled.

  So I started running and I made it to first base and I heard voices shouting, “Keep going!” so I did, and I rounded second and everyone was shouting, “Go! Go!” so I kept going, and the next thing I knew I was back at home plate, and way off in the outfield I saw Lena finally find the ball.

  “You did it!” I heard another voice shout, and I looked up and there was Lexie. “You did it, Pearl!” She was grinning, and she handed me a red marker. “You should make your own X.”

  Lexie took a picture of me marking my first Camp Merrimac home run X on the chart, and later I put the photo in my scrapbook along with all my other camp mementos.

  Thursday

  Did not have to go to Goose Lodge in pitch dark last night.

  Woke up early this morning, before blaring horn, looked out window and saw TWO DEER outside cabin. One was mother and one was spotted baby that was leaping around like Bitey.

  Excellent thing happened before dinner, not as good as home run X but still pretty good. Won ping-pong turniment in 10–11 age group and when Lisa gave me button that said CHAMPION saw JBIII smiling at me from Dude group. Thought about making up with him, but time was not right, what with Dudes around.

  Tomorrow will apologize privately to best friend for bossy behavior.

  14

  VI. There was an accident.

  Friday was my last day at Camp Merrimac. I woke up early and first I realized that I’d made it through the whole week without having to go to Goose Lodge in the middle of the night, and then I looked out the window and saw the
mother deer and her little baby again. (FYI, all this was taking place before the morning horn, so note that I was being a responsible, non-tardy Merrimac overnight camper.) The mother and I watched each other for a while and finally I said to her, “You have a very nice baby,” and she stiffened her legs and then ran away with her eye whites showing as if I had actually said, “I plan to steal your baby and raise him in New York City.”

  From across the cabin Juwanna said, “Who are you talking to, Pearl?”

  “No one,” I replied, and I got dressed quickly so as not to have to go to breakfast in my pajamas.

  Even though I liked sitting with the Sunrise Starlettes and eating Camp Merrimac breakfasts (except for the birdseed and milk-barf), I decided to eat by myself on Friday morning. I wanted to think about JBIII and when I should talk to him, and what I should say to him when I apologized. The timing would be a little tricky since this was Visiting Day, and the families of all the Merrimac campers would start to arrive well before lunch, so I didn’t really have much time.

  I took a bite of a muffin and chewed and thought about my best friend and how our fight had begun and what I could do to end it. I decided I would find JBIII in a quiet moment after breakfast. I would say to him, “JB-Three, can we please talk for a minute?” But I would say this in a polite manner, not like a principal who would say it so sternly that you would know that what the principal actually meant was, “You are in deep trouble and we need to have a meeting right now in my official office and then I may have to phone the police and have you arrested.”

  JBIII would say, “Yes, of course, Pearl,” also in a polite manner, not a sarcastic one, and then I would say—

  I thought some more. What would I say? It’s a little hard admitting that you were bossy and were giving orders and making your friend feel like a dog on a leash. And also that your best friend had wanted you to go away and leave him alone. Especially when what you had wanted was for your best friend to get the most out of his first trip to WaterWorks. But I could sort of see how my orders might have been taken the wrong way.

  So how I would apologize to JBIII was like this: “I’ve been thinking about our fight and I want to tell you that I’m very sorry we had it.” Then I would take a big breath and get really truthful. “I was being bossy and that wasn’t nice. I wanted you to have a good time at WaterWorks and instead I ruined everything.” I wondered whether, if I started to cry, my apology would be more believable, or if JBIII would just get embarrassed by girl tears and run away.

  I gave up the idea. I didn’t want JBIII to run away and I definitely didn’t want him to accept my apology just because he felt sorry for me.

  After breakfast all of us overnight campers had to return to our cabins and pack up our stuff, except for the things we would need during the day. So we did. This took a while and when I finished I realized that our families would be arriving soon. If I was going to apologize to JBIII, now was the time.

  I stepped out of Sunrise and looked around, and what was the first thing I saw but JBIII in his bathing suit heading for the lake. He had a good head start, so I began to run after him, and I ran all the way to the lake and had just about caught up with him when he stepped onto the dock. I kept running. I ran right by the rules sign on the back of the lifeguard stand and I called, “James Brubaker the Third!”

  JBIII turned around and I kept running and FYI, it turns out there’s a good reason the very first rule on the sign is NO RUNNING ON THE DOCKS. A lot of lake water had sloshed over the wooden boards and made them slippery, and believe you me it is scary to suddenly find that your legs are sliding out from under you and you have no control over them.

  I crashed feet-first into JBIII, and even before I landed I watched my best friend hurtle backward and smash into an upturned canoe resting on the end of the dock.

  “OW!” I cried as I sat down hard on my bottom, but JBIII didn’t make any sound, which is scarier than you can imagine.

  I sat up, and a little part of me was wondering if I had splinters in my bottom and how big my bruise was going to be, and thinking that a bruised, splintery bottom would be embarrassing. But the rest of me was concentrating on JBIII, who sat slumped silently against the canoe. His eyes were open, but he still hadn’t said a word. He hadn’t even moaned.

  I forgot about my bottom.

  “JBIII?” I said.

  No answer.

  “JBIII?”

  “I’m hurt,” he finally whispered, and I noticed that his arm was hanging at a strange angle.

  I jumped to my feet and leaned over JBIII. I tried to think how Lexie would handle a first-aid emergency like this one. When Lena had gotten hurt playing softball Lexie had sent someone for the nurse and an ice pack and the stretcher. And then she had stayed with Lena until help came. She had not touched Lena’s leg.

  I said very calmly, “It’s going to be okay, JBIII,” and I didn’t touch his arm. I straightened up and was about to scream for the lifeguard when I realized that the lifeguard had seen the whole accident and was already running along the dock.

  “Don’t run!” I shouted at him.

  The lifeguard, a counselor named Doug, didn’t pay any attention to me. He knelt by JBIII, spoke to him for a moment, and then started shouting into a walkie-talkie spy thing that I hadn’t noticed he was holding. He gave a whole lot of orders and finally said, “I think he broke his elbow.”

  After that there was a lot of confusion. The nurse, the camp director, a bunch of counselors including Lexie, and an even bigger bunch of campers all came running down the dock, completely ignoring the rules sign. Everyone crowded around JBIII, and Lexie shouted, “Stand back!” while Doug tried to help JBIII to a more comfortable spot, but JBIII said he was going to faint, and refused to move.

  I edged to the front of the crowd. “Does it hurt a lot?” I asked my best friend (who hadn’t fainted).

  “Yes,” he whispered. I noticed that he didn’t look at me, but this might have been because of the pain, etc., etc., etc.

  There was a scuffle at the end of the dock, and two counselors came pushing through the crowd with the stretcher. They were just sliding JBIII onto it when I saw another herd of people arrive at the lake and I realized that this was a herd of families and visitors. At the head of the herd were Mr. and Mrs. Brubaker, JBIII’s parents.

  Mrs. Brubaker knelt down beside JBIII and he began to cry, and then so did I, since I had sort of caused all the trouble.

  Mr. Brubaker turned to the camp director. “How long will it take the ambulance to get here?”

  The ambulance? My stomach turned to ice water.

  “About twenty minutes, I’d say,” was the reply.

  “We can get him to the hospital faster ourselves,” said Mr. Brubaker.

  And the next thing I knew the entire herd of people had hurried back to the camp entrance and JBIII’s parents were settling him in their car.

  I heard a voice call to the Brubakers, “You go on! Don’t worry, we’ll bring his things home for you!” I realized the voice belonged to my father. He and Mom and about a billion other parents along with brothers and sisters and aunts and uncles had now arrived. All at the same moment, Dad turned to me and said, “You can help us gather up JB’s things, can’t you?” and Mom said, “Pearl, do you know how the accident happened?” and Lexie said, “I just hope he won’t need surgery.”

  Then from behind me I heard one more voice: “Poor, poor Jamie.” I turned around. Jill was standing there holding her Camp Merrimac baseball cap over her heart, and her voice was trembling in the fake way that mine does when I try to make myself cry in order to convince Mom and Dad that their parenting tactics are unfair.

  I didn’t answer either my mother or my father. I walked away from my family, and I kept walking until I had reached Sunrise Cabin. I lay down on one of the bare wooden bunks and stared across the room.

  I had broken my best friend’s elbow. My best friend already thought I was bossy and mean, and hadn’t spoken to
me in nearly two weeks. And he didn’t know that I wanted to apologize to him. What he did know was that I broke rules and had ruined the rest of his summer, and now no one would get to hear him recite his Write Right story, which he had won a Merrimac award for it.

  Two tears leaked out of my eyes and ran down into my hair.

  “Pearl?” It was my mother.

  “Go away.” I turned to face the wall.

  “Don’t worry about JB, honey,” she said. She stepped into the cabin, sat beside me, and began to pat my back. “He broke his elbow but he’s going to be fine. Bones heal.”

  “You don’t understand,” I said. “I made him break his elbow. I was running on the dock, which is against the rules, and I slipped and bumped into him and he fell down. And that’s how he broke his elbow.”

  “Oh, dear,” said my mother. “I see why you’re upset. But, Pearl, that was an accident. You didn’t do it on purpose.”

  I put my hands over my face. “I wasn’t supposed to be running on the dock.” I didn’t add that lately I had been an absolutely horrible friend to JBIII.

  “I understand that. But it was still an accident. When JB is feeling better you can apologize to him, all right? I’ll talk to his parents later. And the next time you’re on one of the docks you’ll remember the rules. Would you feel better if you could do something for JB?”

  I uncovered my face. “I guess so.”

  “Then show me to his cabin and you can help me with his things. We’ll drive them back to the city this afternoon and leave them at his building.”

  “Did you borrow Mrs. Mott’s car again?” I asked.