Read Christy Miller Collection, Vol 3 Page 29


  “Ouch!” he said. Then noticing her smooth legs, he asked, “Why do girls do that, anyway? Shave their legs, I mean.”

  “So they'll look nice. You know, smooth and feminine.”

  “But then you get cold.”

  “Never mind,” Christy said. “Actually, we do it so that guys will feel sorry for us when we say we're cold, and they'll put their arms around us and warm us up.”

  “I have a better idea.” Todd stood up and offered Christy his hand. “Let's walk.”

  Todd's hand felt strong and secure as they strolled down the beach together. Her legs were still cold, but inside she felt warm and content. That's how things had been between her and Todd for the last few months. More than brother and sister, not quite boyfriend and girlfriend.

  She felt Todd's thumb rubbing the chain on the gold ID bracelet she wore on her right wrist. He had given it to her a year and a half ago with the word “Forever” engraved on it. It was Todd's promise that they would be friends forever. As it was, their relationship had gone through many ups and downs since they first met two summers ago. But Todd's promise had remained. He always treated her like a close friend. It was just that sometimes, like now, Christy wanted more*

  “What are you thinking about?” she asked him.

  “About Papua New Guinea,” Todd answered. “I was wondering what angle the waves come in there.”

  What did I expect? Ever since I first met Todd, he's been dreaming of being a missionary to an island full of unreached natives. He's such a surfer boy. I bet if I cut him, he would bleed saltwater. Why did I think he would be thinking of me?

  '“What were you thinking?” he asked.

  The question surprised her. Although she asked him for his thoughts often, he rarely asked her. Maybe Todd was becoming a little more like Christy as they spent more time together. She knew she was becoming a little more like him.

  “I was thinking about us and wondering what the future held.” One thing Christy had learned was to be honest with Todd.

  There was a pause. Then Todd squeezed her hand and said, “Me too.”

  Christy felt her heart beat a little faster.

  Todd stopped walking and turned to face her. The filtered sunlight shone on his face, illuminating his clear silver-blue eyes and highlighting his square jaw. His expression remained sober, and no dimple appeared on his right cheek.

  “But you know what, Kilikina?”

  Christy always melted when he called her by her Hawaiian name.

  “If we spend all of today thinking about tomorrow, today will be gone, and we will have missed it.”

  Christy knew he was right. As much as she wished he would wrap his arms around her, hold her tight, kiss her hair, and tell her that all his future plans included her, she knew he wouldn't. Todd was reserved when it came to physical expression. It was part of his honesty. He once told her that he would never purposefully “defraud” her.

  When she asked what he meant, Todd said, “I won't deliberately arouse a desire in you that I can't follow through on honestly, before God.”

  She knew that if their relationship had been full of hugs and kisses and whispered secrets about their future, her desires for him would have been aroused past the point of no return.

  As it was now, they could walk away from their relationship today, and besides missing each other's close friendship, they would have no regrets about making promises they weren't able to keep or painful memories from having become too intimate.

  “Then let's enjoy today,” Christy said, her eyes smiling at Todd. “I'm glad we can be together. We'd better keep walking though. I'm starting to get cold again.”

  Todd squeezed her hand and started down the beach. They spent the next two hours collecting shells, digging for sand crabs, and playing foot tag with the waves. It really was a wonderful afternoon.

  When they arrived at home, Mom had tacos waiting for them and a message that Katie had called.

  Christy didn't call Katie back until the next morning. The conversation was short, and Katie's news sent Christy back to bed on her first Monday of summer vacation.

  “Christy,” Mom called, tapping on her bedroom door, “are you okay?”

  “Come on in, Mom. I'm bummed. Katie can't go to camp. Her parents won't let her because it's a church activity. Isn't that crazy? They let her take off and do all kinds of stuff you guys would never let me do, but they won't let her become too involved in church. It has to be hard for her, being the only Christian in her family.”

  “Do you still want to go?” Mom asked.

  “Sort of. Not as much as before.”

  “Maybe we can call Luke and see if some other girls that you know are going,” Mom suggested.

  “Okay,” Christy sighed. “But it won't be as much fun without Katie.”

  Christy didn't get around to calling Luke. When she saw him Sunday at church, she asked him who else was going to camp.

  “You and Katie were the only two girls-from the youth group.”

  Christy couldn't believe it. Their high school group had people in it.

  “I'm sorry Katie isn't going. We really need counselors. That's why I appreciated you both signing up.”

  “Counselors?” Christy squeaked. “Katie signed us up to be counselors?”

  “For junior camp,” Luke explained. “We need counelors for the fifth-grade girls. You thought Katie signed you up for high school camp? That isn't until the last week of August. Does this mean you want to drop out too?”

  Something about the way Luke worded it made Christy feel like she would be the flake of the year if she withdrew only a week before camp. Especially since Katie had backed out.

  “No, I'll go.” Christy tried to sound like it didn't make much difference to her. “I have the time off from work, and you need counselors. I'll go.”

  A huge grin spread over Luke's face. “Thanks, Christy. I knew I could count on you! It'll be a real stretching experience, you'll see.”

  “That's what I'm afraid of,” Christy muttered.

  The next Sunday, when she arrived in the church parking lot with her luggage and sleeping bag, she knew she wasn't up for this stretching experience. A sea of fourth -and fifth-grade kids ran through the mounds of luggage, yelling, hitting, tattling, and clearly presenting Christy with a glimpse into her next week.

  It took more than an hour to organize the troops, load their luggage, and get everyone on the bus at one time. Christy sat in the seat right behind the driver, hoping to ignore most of the spit wads, smacking gum, and rude little boys. She realized her main goal this week would be to avoid getting gum in her hair.

  Katie, I'm going to get you for this one!

  The crazy part was that this was Katie's type of activity. She loved being the center of attention with a bunch of kids and had a way of getting them to follow her easily. Those were Katie's special gifts, not Christy's.

  A young girl ran screaming from the back of the bus and dove into the empty seat next to Christy as if her life depended on being protected from whatever was chasing her. Christy readjusted her legs to accommodate the flying banshee and asked in her sternest voice, “What is going on here?”

  “Eeeeeeek!” the girl squealed, ducking and covering her head with her arms.

  A cute kid with bright eyes and dark blond hair skidded down the aisle and slugged the girl in the back.

  “Stop that right now!” Christy demanded.

  “She took my candy,” the boy hollered.

  “Is that true?” Christy asked the girl, who was still bent over at the waist. Her matted hair hung over her face. The girl only giggled.

  Christy asked again, “Did you take his candy?”

  The girl kept giggling as Christy grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her upright, revealing the stolen candy in her lap.

  “Give it back,” the boy spouted, grabbing the stash of candy bars and marching to his seat at the back of the bus.

  As instantly as the seat beside Chr
isty had filled, it now emptied. Giggling, the candy robber hopped up and returned to where her friends sat.

  Christy felt a rush of relief when two college-age guys boarded the bus. With booming voices, they got the kids' attention and commanded them to settle down. To Christy's amazement, they did.

  One of the guys announced the rules for the bus ride to camp. The other one asked them to bow their heads and close their eyes because he was going to pray for their trip to camp.

  Christy added her own prayer at the end. Lord, could You assign me a couple of extra guardian angels this week? I think I'm going to need them.

  when the bus rolled under a rustic wooden sign that read “Camp Wildwood,” Christy felt an urge to jump bus and run for home. The word rustic would be a polite way to describe the camp. Christy's cabin was at the end of an uphill trail that made luggage-hauling miserable. Her fledglings followed her up the narrow, dusty trail, squealing and sobbing and making enough noise to scare off any wildlife for miles.

  Somehow Christy knew the only wildlife she would experience this week would be in the form of pillow fights at three in the morning, frogs in her sleeping bag, and raids from the boys' cabins across the creek.

  “Okay, girls,” she called out as they stepped into their home sweet home. “I'm taking the bunk on the bottom here by the door. Everyone find a bunk. If you fight over who's on top, we'll swap positions halfway through the week.”

  The girls took to their nesting with lots of noise. Christy tried to let them solve their own problems while she smoothed out her sleeping bag. She found a note from her mom tucked inside.

  May you have sweet dreams every night Love, Mom.

  Christy smiled and tucked it in her backpack. She pulled out her notebook just as two of the girls were about to exit.

  “Whoa! Where are you going?” Christy stopped them. Suddenly she understood why, at the camp counselors meeting last night, they had made such a big deal about the counselors taking the bottom bunk by the door. It was the best spot to serve as a door guard.

  “Out,” the blond one answered.

  “Not yet,” Christy told her. “We have to have a cabin meeting first.”

  The girls acted as if she had just ordered them to eat raw brussels sprouts and marched off to their bunks, pouting.

  “Okay, everyone come sit on the floor. We're going to have a quick cabin meeting, and then you have free time until dinner.”

  “Can't we sit on our bunks?” asked a girl with ebony skin and big black eyes.

  'Well, all right. As long as I can see all of you. Wait, I have an idea. Everyone sit on the top bunk. That way we can all see each other.”

  “I just made my bed,” the girl across from Christy complained.

  “I'd rather sit on the floor,” another said.

  “Can we eat in the cabin?” The request came from a plump blonde who, from the chocolate smears around her lips, looked as though she had been eating ever since they left the church.

  “No, it's one of the rules. The food attracts ants and other critters we don't want to invite into our cabin. Come on,” Christy said, hoisting herself onto the empty top bunk above hers.

  She realized if one of the bunks was empty that meant one of the girls hadn't made it to the cabin. Rather than leaving to find the lost sheep, she thought she had better go through her meeting as planned. Her list of campers would reveal who was missing, and then she could go after that person and at least know who she was looking for.

  “Quiet down, girls. You two in the back on the bottom bunk, could you join us please?”

  It was the blonde and her friend who had tried to escape earlier.

  Christy looked over her list of names, “This will be a short meeting. I need to find out who's who. When I call out your name, please raise your hand.”

  “We're not back in school,” the plump one said.

  “What's your name?” the girl across from Christy asked.

  “I'm Christy. Christy Miller.”

  “Do you have a boyfriend?” the blonde in the back wanted to know.

  “Well, actually,” Christy hesitated, “let's talk about all that stuff later. First I need to find out your names.” She started down the list. “Amy?”

  “Present, Teach,” mocked a girl across the room. She wore dangling earrings that looked a little too large for her small ears. Her coffee-colored hair was pulled up in a high ponytail, spilling over her head like a water fountain. With every movement, her hair and her earrings jiggled. She reminded Christy of a wild tropical bird. Even her “Present, Teach” sounded as though a “gawk” should be attached to the end.

  “Jocelyn?”

  The black girl raised her hand. “That's me.” She looked as though she would be gorgeous once she grew into her strong features, like her eyes.

  No eleven year-old should be allowed to have eyelashes that long. Shell never have to spend a penny on mascara.

  “Sara?”

  “What?” the petite blonde answered. She looked like a Skipper doll. Her wavy blond hair ran free all over her head, and her ginger eyes seemed to take in everything with a glance. Saras T-shirt had the word “So?” printed on the front.

  “Ruth,” Christy called out.

  “I like Ruthie better,” the girl on the bunk across from her answered. “I hate my name. It sounds so blah.”

  “I like your name,” Christy said. “It's the same as my grandmother's.”

  Some of the girls started to giggle, but tears welled up in Ruthie's eyes. “See what I mean? Your grandmother! Nobody my age is named Ruth.”

  She had a plain face, a long flat nose, and braces. Her skin was perfect, smooth, and without a freckle. Her light brown hair hung straight to the tip of her shoulders and was tucked behind her ear on the left side.

  “Well, I like your name,” Christy said, hoping to repair any damage she had done in the first fifteen minutes of their week together.

  Christy called out the rest of the names. The only one who didn't answer was Jeanine Brown. She ran through the rules about camp boundaries, staying away from the guys' cabins, and not raiding cabins. Her confidence wasn't too high that any of the rules would be followed.

  “Any questions?”

  “Yeah,” said Sara. “Do you have a boyfriend?”

  “Sort of,” Christy said. “And that's the best answer you're going to get from me. Now go enjoy your free time until dinner, and I'll look for all of you at the dining hall.”

  “Dining hall?” Jocelyn laughed. “Here it's a mess hall.”

  “Okay, fine. The mess hall. When the bell rings, go right to the mess hall. And wash your hands before you come in, okay?”

  The girls were already elbowing their way out the door. Amy, the bird, called over her shoulder, “Yes, Teach.”

  Hopping down and tucking away her notebook, Christy kicked her big green duffel bag under her bed and headed out to find the missing Jeanine Brown. Halfway down the trail she heard the familiar squeal of the perky little thief who had collided with her on the bus on the way up. Christy went off the main trail and soon spotted the girl dashing from her hiding place behind a tree and running straight for Christy.

  “Hide me!” she shrieked, grabbing Christy by the waist and using her as a shield.

  “Give it back,” hollered the boy she had harassed on the bus. He was galloping through the woods toward them.

  “Never!” the girl shouted, giggling and pinching Christy's middle as she ducked behind her.

  “She took mypocketknife,” the exasperated boy said.

  Christy jerked free of the girl's clutches, spun around, and in her firmest voice said, “Hand me the knife right now.”

  The girl sobered, pulled the deluxe Swiss army knife from the pocket of her jeans, and handed it to Christy with a repentant expression.

  “What is your name, and who is your counselor?” Christy asked the boy.

  “Nicholas. Jaeson is my counselor.”

  “Fine. At the counselo
rs meeting tonight I'll give this to Jaeson, and he can give it back to you if he thinks you need it this week. As for you, who is your counselor?” she asked the sober-faced girl.

  “I don't know.”

  “What cabin are you in?”

  “I don't know.”

  “Where did you put your sleeping bag and luggage?”

  “Down there, by the bus. I didn't know where to go.”

  “What's your name?” Christy closed her eyes as she waited for the answer. She already knew what it would be.

  “Jeanine Brown.”

  Nicholas took off into the woods, and Christy let out a sigh. “Come with me, Jeanine. I'm Christy Miller. I'm your counselor. Our cabin is at the top of the hill. Let's pick up your stuff.”

  “Oh, good!” Jeanine said joyfully. “I was hoping you would be my counselor.”

  Christy didn't feel she could return the compliment to her soon-to-be bunk mate. “Good,” was all she managed to say. “Let's get going; it's almost dinnertime.”

  At least at dinner all her girls showed up. Amy wanted to sit by Christy at the large round table, and Sara squabbled with Jocelyn over who would sit on the other side. It was nice, in a way, to be fought over. Then Christy reminded herself that this was the first night and the first of many meals they would share. She hoped not every meal would be accompanied by so much hassle.

  The food was good, better than she had expected. Amy dropped one of her dangling earrings in the bowl of applesauce as it was passed around, and Christy had to fish it out with the serving spoon. Before she could stop Amy, she had licked off the earring and poked it back in her ear.

  “Do we have free time after dinner?” Jocelyn asked.

  “Yes, but remember you have to stay in the camp boundaries. Ill be in a counselors meeting, so if you have any problems, wait for me outside the door of the lodge. We should be done in about an hour.”

  “Yes, Teach,” Amy replied solemnly, her hair falling down on her face and touching the ends of her eyelashes.

  The first question the camp dean, Bob Ferrill, asked in the counselors meeting was if their campers knew the counselors' names.