Read Christy Miller Collection, Vol 3 Page 34


  “Actually, I thought I'd better find myself a good hiding place across the lake.”

  “Good idea. I'll go with you. I can show you some places I've used before.”

  They walked around the lake rather than taking a canoe. At one spot where the trail became narrow, Jaeson reached his hand behind him, offering it to Christy. She felt comfortable holding Jaeson's hand.

  “Here's one spot I used last year,” Jaeson said, stopping and pointing straight up.

  “Where?” Christy asked.

  “Up there. This is an easy tree to climb. It was a lot of fun because the kids never thought to look up even though I showered them with pine needles.”

  “I'm not much of a tree climber,” Christy said hesitantly. “Do you have any other suggestions?”

  “Sure. Follow me.”

  Jaeson led her through the woods, pointing out five possible hiding spots. She liked the last one best and decided that was the one for her. It was a hollowed-out tree trunk behind a huge tree that grew close to the trail. The campers would have to go off the trail and around the tree to find her. She thought it would be good to bring a towel along so she wouldn't have to sit on the moldy bark inside the tree.

  Jaeson took her hand again and began to lead her back. He stopped at the good climbing tree and said, “I think I'll try going up again this year. Worked great last year.”

  He then coached Christy on canoe strategy. She loved this feeling. The birds were singing above them, the shimmering lake was peeking at them from behind the trees, and she was on an afternoon walk, hand-in-hand with the cutest counselor at camp. This is what Christy dreamed camp would be like. Nothing of her previous life seemed to matter now. She had two more days at Camp Wildwood, and she intended to enjoy every minute of them.

  Jocelyn wasn't eating. Christy asked her if she felt okay.

  “My stomach hurts,” she said.

  Christy felt her forehead, “You feel pretty warm. Let's get you over to the nurse's office.”

  Turning to Jaeson, who sat behind her as usual, Christy asked, “Can you keep an eye on my girls? This one needs to see the nurse.”

  With her arm around Jocelyn, Christy escorted her from the noisy mess hall and across the grounds to the nurse's small white building.

  When they were only a few yards away, Jocelyn said, “I think I have to throw up.”

  “Can you make it to those bushes?” Christy asked, helping Jocelyn walk a little faster.

  They made it just in time for Jocelyn to be sick. Christy turned away and held her breath. This was a part of camp counseling she hadn't planned on. Rummaging through her pockets, she found a tissue. Still holding her breath, she held it out to Jocelyn and said, “Here.”

  Jocelyn groaned and started to cry as she wiped off her mouth. “I feel awful!”

  'We're almost there, honey.” Christy wrapped her arm back around Jocelyn and coaxed the sobbing girl along.

  Fortunately the nurse must have heard them coming because she opened the door and helped Jocelyn to a clean cot.

  “Her stomach hurts,” Christy explained. “She threw up out there in the bushes.”

  “You poor little thing,” the nurse said, placing her hand on Jocelyn's forehead. “What did you eat today?”

  “She didn't eat any dinner,” Christy said.

  “What about during free time? Did you have any snacks?”

  Jocelyn slowly nodded her head and listed half a dozen snack foods and types of candy bars she'd eaten.

  The nurse placed a cool washcloth on Jocelyn's forehead and whispered to Christy, “Sounds like a case of junk food overload. I'll give her something to settle her stomach, and she'll be fine.”

  Christy patted Jocelyn on the arm, “You do what the nurse says, and I'll check on you later, okay?”

  She was about to slip out when the nurse said, “Could you do me a favor? Would you fill up the bucket on the side of the building and then wash down the site where she vomited?”

  Christy shuddered as she doused the spot with a bucket of water. This was definitely the part of being a counselor she could do without. For good measure, she filled a second bucket and poured it over the area so no signs of the accident remained.

  I'm glad I got her out of the mess hall when I did!

  The doors to the mess hall opened, and the Camp Wildwood wild campers scattered to make use of their short free time before the evening meeting.

  Oh, great, dinner's over, and I didn't finish eating. Actually, I don't feel like eating anymore.

  Christy had planned to spend time with her girls individually today, but with the baseball game and the walk with Jaeson, the afternoon had flown. Jeanine was the first of her girls she spotted exiting the dining hall. She caught up with her and asked, “Do you want to do something?”

  Jeanine looked at her funny. “Like what?”

  “I don't know. Go for a walk, sit by the lake, and talk.”

  “Why?”

  “Well, just so we can have some time together.” Christy scrambled for a better approach.

  “We've been together all week,” Jeanine said. “We're bunk mates even.”

  “I know, I just thought maybe, well…never mind.”

  “No,” Jeanine said, clutching Christy's arm. “We can do something if you want.”

  Now Christy wasn't sure who was the leader and who was the follower. “Why don't we just go out in the woods and talk. I know where there's a bench not far from here.”

  “Okay,” Jeanine said cheerfully. “If that'll make you feel better.”

  Christy led Jeanine to the bench. She had planned her opening line during their walk and sprang it on Jeanine. “I want you to know that I think you're wonderful, I care about you, and I want to know if you have any questions about God.”

  Jeanine looked at her a moment before answering. “Nope.”

  “Okay, that's fine.” Christy had no idea where to go next with her big witnessing opportunity. “So you feel like everything between you and God is fine?”

  “Yep. My parents prayed with me when I was little, Jesus lives in my heart, and I know I'm going to heaven. Do you think you could braid my hair like that other counselor Jessica braids her girls' hair?”

  “I could try,” Christy floundered.

  Why don't any of these girls want to talk about spiritual things?

  “Good.” Jeanine turned her back to Christy and scrounged in her pocket. “I have a rubber band here.” She proceeded to extract at least two dozen rubber bands from her pocket.

  “What are all these for?” Christy asked, trying to smooth Jeanine's matted mane with her fingernails before she pulled all the pieces together in a French braid.

  “Jessica told me to try giving something to Nick instead of taking stuff from him, you know? I tried it with the leather bracelet, but you know how that turned out. So now I'm giving him something else. A rubber band in the back of the head whenever he's not looking. He still doesn't know it's me.”

  Christy was glad Jeanine couldn't see her face. She couldn't repress her smile.

  “How come guys don't start to like girls at the same age as girls start to like boys?” Jeanine asked, patiently holding her head still.

  “I don't know. Maybe God is giving the girls an extra year or two to polish up their manners. That way, when the guys are old enough to be interested in them, they'll be the kind of girls worth being interested in.”

  “I never thought of it that way,” Jeanine said, genuinely persuaded. “Will you teach me how to have better manners?”

  “Sure, if you'd like. Hand me a rubber band.” Christy tied off the end of Jeanine's braid.

  Then Jeanine turned eagerly to face Christy. With her hair off her face, Jeanine was a pretty little girl.

  “First, I'd say lose the rubber bands. I don't think that's going to help with Nick at all. Next, try to chew with your mouth closed and not to talk when you have food in your mouth.”

  “What else?” Jeanine asked.
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  “Well, sitting up straight always helps.”

  Jeanine immediately straightened her back and held her, head up high. “Like this?”

  “Yes, that's very good. I might mention screaming next. There's a place for screaming. Like in the pool or on a roller coaster. But for the most part you don't need to scream a lot during the day just for the sake of screaming.”

  Jeanine nodded solemnly. “What else?”

  “That's a good start. Always try to say kind things and be considerate of others.”

  Jeanine beamed, looking anxious to take off and try some of her new charm techniques on Nick. Just as she was about to hop up, Christy touched her arm and asked, “May I bless you, Jeanine?”

  “Bless me? But I didn't sneeze.”

  Months ago, one chilly morning on the beach, Todd had placed his hand on Christy's forehead and blessed her. At the time she didn't want the blessing and didn't receive it well. But his act had stayed with her all this time. For some reason Christy felt the urge to bless this girl, who was blossoming into a young lady right before her eyes.

  “Just close your eyes,” Christy instructed. She then placed her hand across Jeanine's forehead, “Jeanine, the Lord bless you and keep you. The Lord make His face to shine upon you and give you His peace. And may you always love Jesus first, above all else.”

  Jeanine opened her sparkling eyes. A big smile spread across her face. “That was neat!” she said. “What does the 'love Jesus above all else' mean?”

  “It means in every situation you face as you're growing up, may you fall in love with Jesus and love Him more than you love anything else.”

  “Thanks, Christy.” Jeanine hopped up and impulsively gave Christy a hug. “You're the best counselor in the whole world!” Then off she ran down the trail.

  Christy sat for a moment, thinking about the advice she had just given. She wished she could say she already had that kind of love for Jesus. She did love Him, but she wanted to love Him even more. Todd once said that was good because it meant she was “hungering and thirsting after righteousness.”

  Even though her talk with Jeanine hadn't gone the way she had planned, she felt good. She had given Jeanine what she needed, and maybe the blessing would help Jeanine feel loved.

  Christy sat with Amy, Sara, and Ruthie at the evening meeting. She was glad Amy and Sara had included Ruthie into their little group. Christy quietly told Amy and Sara in the cabin that night that she liked the way they were being good friends with each other and with other girls in their cabin. Both girls looked pleased and proud.

  For devotions, Christy read them her favorite psalm— Psalm 139. Then she talked for a few minutes about how much God loved each of them and how much He wanted them to promise their hearts to Him.

  Christy felt like her “message” had gone well and anticipated lots of discussion afterward—and hopefully a conversion or two. She gave her closing line and waited for their responses.

  All of them had fallen asleep except Sara.

  Christy tried to hide her disappointment as she asked Sara, “Do you have any questions?”

  “Yes,” Sara said. “Has Jaeson kissed you yet?”

  “No, of course not.”

  “Why not? You like him and he likes you.”

  “Sara, that's not enough of a reason to kiss a guy. When you give away kisses, you're giving a little part of your heart that you can never take back. You have to be careful that you don't give away too many pieces too soon or to the wrong person.”

  “You have been kissed before, haven't you? What was it like? Did you close your eyes?”

  “Sara, let's talk about this later. I think we both need some sleep, okay?”

  Christy pulled up her sleeping bag over her ears and only heard a muffled response from Sara about how nobody ever wanted to talk about it. Promising herself she would talk to Sara tomorrow about kissing, Christy fell asleep.

  She floated in and out of a confusing dream in which Jaeson tried to kiss her and she didn't know how to respond.

  Friday dawned overcast and chilly. It was the first morning Christy put on jeans instead of shorts. She passed on the chance to have an invigorating shower and pulled her hair back in a ponytail rather than washing it. Her neck was stiff. She felt like she had been at camp for six months instead of six days.

  Everyone at breakfast seemed on edge too. Perhaps it was because this was the last full day of camp or because it was cold and rainy outside. Whatever it was, the mood hung over the camp all morning. At lunch two of her girls argued over the last half of a grilled cheese sandwich until one of them fell backwards with her chair. If Christy hadn't rushed over in time to hold them back, there would have been a major fight.

  “Here.” Jessica offered Christy's table a plate of sandwiches. “My girls aren't very hungry.”

  Jocelyn grabbed the first sandwich. Ever since her recovery early that morning, she had been eating everything in sight.

  Jessica then confided in Christy over the roar of the savage campers, “I don't like it when they get this way before the counselor hunt. You would think they were out for blood!”

  “Our blood, I suppose,” Christy answered.

  Jessica nodded and headed back to her table of sassy whiners, who kept asking when they could leave so they could go to the snack shack and buy candy bars.

  Trie instant they burst out of the dining room, the sun popped through the clouds and looked as though it would stay around all afternoon. Within minutes Christy felt boiling hot in her jeans and sweatshirt and decided to change into shorts before the counselor hunt. She also wanted to take along a towel to sit on inside her tree.

  The cabin was a disastrous mess. The girls hadn't worked on it at all during cabin cleanup, and since Christy was in the counselors meeting during that time, she hadn't been there to motivate them. They had lost points for the mess, but her girls didn't seem to care.

  Christy hurried down to the lake. Six canoes were lined up on the shore with a bright flag mounted on the stern of each. Christy was assigned the canoe with the orange flag and tied the matching orange strip of cloth to her waist. She was to relinquish this sash to the first camper who found her.

  Dean Ferrill gave the rest of the instructions, and Christy mounted her “trusty steed” with a surge of excitement. With paddle in hand, she waited along with the other counselors for the signal.

  “On your mark, get set…” Dean Ferrill's shrill whistle blew, and Christy plunged her paddle into the water on the left side, just as Jaeson had told her. She got a good, swift start and was ahead of the other girls by several yards in no time. With each stroke she felt the muscles in her upper arms stretching and letting her know that she was giving it all she had.

  Christy was glad she had changed into her cutoff jeans and her Camp Wildwood T-shirt when she felt the sun beating down on the tops of her legs. The sun's intensity seemed double because of the reflection off the water.

  From the shore behind her, Christy could hear the shouts from the campers. They were to stay put until the first counselor's canoe touched the shore on the opposite side. Then they were released to run around the lake and find the counselors.

  Jessica was right. From the way the campers' yells and screams echoed across the lake, they did sound like they were out for blood.

  Near the middle of the lake, the three guys overtook Christy and passed her, all three stroking in unison, with their canoes lined up neck and neck.

  Then Jessica passed her and called out, “Keep going, Christy. We're almost there.”

  Christy paddled harder, keeping her canoe straight and aiming for a nice, big open spot on the shore. Jaeson hit the shore first. Then Mike, Jessica, and Bob. Right behind them, Christy's canoe made the welcome sound of hitting mud and gravel. She hopped out, pulled her canoe to shore, and ran with soggy tennis shoes to her hiding spot in the hollowed-out tree.

  She found the tree with no problem but realized she had left her towel in the canoe. From the
echoing sounds of the wild campers running around the lake, she knew she didn't have enough time to go back to retrieve it.

  With her muddy tennis shoe, she tried to scrape out some of the gunk on the floor of her hiding place. It seemed she was leaving more mud inside than she was managing to get moldy bark out. The campers' voices sounded closer.

  Christy gave up and wedged herself into the triangular hideout. Drawing her long legs up close to her chest, she wrapped her arms around them and tried to make herself as small as possible. Then she tried to slow her breathing down to a calmer pace.

  The inside of the tree was actually kind of interesting. A few inches from her face, the wood appeared to be rippled in several layers around the opening of the trunk. It smelled musty but in an earthy way that didn't bother her.

  As a child, Christy had always liked stories about woodland critters who lived in the trees. She pictured one of her storybook elves or dwarfs being delighted to use her hideout as his home.

  The first camper's footsteps came pounding down the trail right behind Christy's tree. She held her breath but feared her loudly pounding heart would give her away. Several more ran by, yelling and screaming, and Christy actually felt frightened. Not that they would find her; that was the game. But what if they were so wild this afternoon that they thought it a good idea to tie her up and leave her there?

  She wiggled slightly, trying to improve her position. The bark was poking her and she felt tingles up and down her legs, probably from them falling asleep. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness of her cave, Christy realized that the bark in front of her face appeared to be moving. She looked closely and discovered a nonstop string of red ants marching across the entrance, only inches from her face.

  With great control she kept herself from screaming or even moving an inch. Another hoard of campers thundered behind her down the trail. She kept silent. Then she felt that tingly sensation from her legs move up her arms and onto her hands. At that moment, she realized she was covered with ants.

  “Yiiiiii!” she screeched, ejecting herself from the tree and jumping around in the woods, slapping her arms and legs in a futile effort to get the ants off her.