“You don’t think… maybe… they could work things out?”
“It’s too late for that. It’s been too long. Dad hates her.”
We were both quiet for a minute or two.
“What do you want to happen?” I asked finally.
“I just want it over, one way or another. I hate this waiting around, wondering what will happen next. I either want them together or I want them apart.”
I thought how often I’d felt something like that for the past couple of years about Dad and Sylvia. Except I’d never wanted them apart. I’d always wanted them to be together.
9
* * *
Going Coed
That night, our night, none of the older counselors was available to drive us into town, so the six of us girls decided to sneak down to the river early and go skinny-dipping, just to say that we had. Doris, who felt she was on the verge of a cold, didn’t want to go in but said she’d be our lookout.
“We’ll just take a short swim before the guys start looking for us,” Pamela said with a giggle. But we were all secretly hoping that the guys would find out where we’d gone and… Well, who knows what we were hoping. Just for something exciting to happen, I guess.
We weren’t foolish enough to leave our clothes on the bank, though. We wadded them up and stuck them in the fork of a low tree. When we got down to our underpants, we wore them to the water’s edge, then gave them to Doris to put in the tree for us, and dived in. Elizabeth refused to take off either her underpants or her bra, so there we were; one girl on the bank fully clothed; one girl in the water in her underwear; and four girls in the river naked.
We swam quietly, giggling to each other, feeling very risqué. When the guys didn’t come down right away, I noticed, none of us suggested we get out, even though the water was frigid and I could feel my teeth chattering. We just kept swimming around, watching the path to the dining hall. I noticed Pamela’s voice getting a little louder, just in case the guys were within earshot. And soon, down the path they came—all six of the male assistant counselors.
What we did, of course, was shriek and duck down under the water, swimming a little downriver to pretend we weren’t there, which was ridiculous. And then they were in the water, all their clothes on the bank, and after we got over being semi-embarrassed and silly, we just swam around and talked, and it seemed to me we were pretty grown-up, Gerald included.
“Was that your boyfriend or your brother I saw you with this afternoon?” Craig asked me.
“My brother. Les. My dad’s wedding’s been postponed because my new mom’s sister is sick,” I explained.
“Tough luck,” said Craig.
“I’m going to feel so much better when they’re finally married,” I told him. “Dad’s been waiting a long time.”
“Yeah, sure,” I heard Joe murmur, and the others laughed.
I didn’t say any more about Dad and Sylvia. I didn’t want people guessing about their private lives when they didn’t even know them. So I just dog-paddled around, thinking how strange and exciting it felt to be swimming at night. The sky was cloudy, though, and we couldn’t see much of anything except a ball of white somewhere back on the bank, which I realized, finally, was our ball of underwear in the fork of the tree.
Both Elizabeth and Pamela were swimming around Ross like sharks, I thought. Gwen and Joe were nuzzling off by themselves, G. E. was talking with Doris, who was sitting on an overturned canoe, and the rest of us were just floating about, enjoying a free swim without the little kids.
As I watched Gwen and Joe, though, who were now kissing, their lips and who knows what else locked together, I began to wonder if the directors of this camp knew what they were doing. We were running on hormones, everyone said, and here we were, away from home, totally naked, in the dark, and… Maybe they figured there was safety in numbers. G. E. slid into the water next.
There was a sudden rustling in the bushes, the quick thud of feet, and suddenly, with a loud “Hi-yah!” Jack Harrigan did a cannonball in the river, splashing everyone within ten yards. He was the only one besides Elizabeth and Doris not naked. Maybe the directors did know what they were doing.
“So how’s the fishing?” he asked, and his voice held a grin.
“Not so good,” Andy joked. “The babes aren’t biting.”
“Speak for yourself,” came Joe’s voice, and I heard Gwen laugh.
“Maybe you’re using the wrong bait,” said Richard’s dad.
“Hey, we’ve got a river, a breeze, a night, a moon…,” said Ross.
“No moon,” said Andy.
“Okay, skip the moon. But…”
With the guys talking to Richard’s father, we girls felt it was safe to swim downstream, sneak out, and get our clothes. Doris had retrieved our bundle of underpants from the tree and brought them down to a row of bushes, then went back to get the rest of our pants and shirts. We climbed out, one after the other, and dressed.
“Darn!” said Pamela. “Just when things were heating up.”
“Ross kissed me!” Elizabeth whispered excitedly.
“How could you tell who it was? It was dark,” said Pamela, and she didn’t sound pleased.
“I think he was going around kissing everyone,” I said, trying to defuse a potential quarrel. “Some-body touched me underwater.”
“Probably Gerald,” said Elizabeth, to take me down a peg or two.
“It’s going to be hard to go back home with Mom and Dad hovering around all the time, knowing where I am every living minute,” said Elizabeth, zipping up her jeans.
“Everyone should be so lucky,” said Tommie.
“Lucky how?”
“Most of these kids don’t have anyone to hover.”
“I guess so,” said Elizabeth. “Just the same, tonight was really fun.”
“Till Richard’s dad showed up, anyway,” said Pamela. “I suppose Richard’s the establishment spy.”
“I don’t think so,” I said. “He’s too nice.”
“Then how else did his dad know to come swimming with us? Somebody must have told him that the guys were swimming nude last week,” said Tommie.
Suddenly I remembered.
“Lester!” I cried. “He was talking with Jack Harrigan before he left.”
“Kill him for us,” said Pamela.
•••
I felt the need to call home. I was going to give Lester a piece of my mind, for one thing, but what I really wanted was to hear Dad’s voice and find out how he was doing. I went to the office later that night and dialed. The phone rang so many times, I was afraid I’d get the answering machine, but then Dad picked it up.
“Dad? Did I wake you?” I asked. “Did you go to bed early?”
“Alice! No, I was just sitting out on the porch. How are you, honey?”
“How are you, Dad? I’m really sorry about Sylvia’s sister.”
“Well, so am I. It was a big disappointment for both of us, but there’s nothing to be done. Nancy’s seriously ill. Septicemia is a worrisome business, and we’re just hoping she pulls through okay.”
“Can’t the doctors do something? Give her antibiotics?”
“Well, of course. That’s what they’re doing. But it’s tricky. They have to figure out just what combination of drugs will work. Meanwhile, the infection can spread to the brain, the heart—almost anywhere.”
“Oh, Dad. You’ve waited so long.”
“I can wait a bit longer, I guess. Right now the important thing is Nancy’s health.”
“Is Sylvia coming back to teach in the fall?”
“Everything depends on Nancy. Sylvia’s already told the principal she probably won’t be here for the start of school. We’ll just have to wait and see.”
We were both quiet for a few seconds. “I wish I was there,” I said finally.
“Now, Alice, what could you do? You are exactly where you are supposed to be, and I hope you’re having a good time. Are you?”
??
?Well, yes. I didn’t know that being an assistant counselor was so exhausting, though. I mean, I’m tired even when we don’t do anything physical. Just trying to keep the peace wears me out.”
He laughed, and it was good to hear that familiar chuckle. “Kids are a handful, all right,” he said. “I can remember times you and Lester about drove me up the wall.”
“Not recently, I hope.”
“Not too recently, no.”
“Has anyone asked about me? Called or anything?”
I could almost hear Dad’s brain working at being tactful. Playing it safe. Trying to decipher what I was really asking.
“I think most of your friends know you’re away, hon,” he said. “There aren’t any phone messages. I don’t know about e-mail. Everything going okay there at camp? You and Gwen hitting it off as cabin mates?”
“Gwen’s wonderful,” I said. “Pamela and Elizabeth are in separate cabins, thank goodness, because they both like the same guy—there are a lot of cute boys here—but other than that, we’re doing okay.” I didn’t want to get into the nude swimming bit.
“Well, you’ll be home in another week, right?” he said. “Call when you get in. I don’t know who will pick you up, but somebody will drive over.”
“Dad? Have you heard from Sylvia since she left?” I asked.
“Oh, yes. She’s called twice—once after she got there and again from the hospital. Right now Nancy’s holding her own, but we won’t know anything much for a while. Sylvia’s where she needs to be too, Al. That’s life. We take things as they come.”
He was saying all the right things, but how did he really feel?
“I love you, Dad,” I said. “Rivers.”
“I love you too, Al. Oceans.”
I had a hard time falling asleep that night. I kept thinking about Pamela and Elizabeth. We’d been friends for a long time, and I didn’t want anything to come between the two of them. We’d come to camp excited and looking forward to three weeks of fun together. It had been that and even more for Elizabeth, but I’m not sure about Pamela. And the letter from her mother sure didn’t help.
I got up finally, and, throwing on my jacket, I slipped out of the cabin and made my way down the narrow lane. Night noises were all around me, and a breeze rustled the leaves of the aspens. When I got to cabin twelve, I noiselessly opened the screen door and moved across the floor to Pamela’s bunk. She was lying with her face to the wall.
“Pamela,” I whispered.
At first she didn’t move. Then she rolled over and peered at me through the darkness. “Alice?” she said. She stared at me for a moment, then scooted over to make room. I lay down on my side and rested my cheek on one hand.
“I’m worried about you and Liz,” I said.
“Well, don’t be.”
“I just hate to see you fighting over some guy. Even Ross, nice as he is.”
“We’re not fighting.” Her voice was flat. “This isn’t the first time I’ve lost out. It won’t be the last,” she said, and she sounded resigned. Defeated.
I tried to see her face in the darkness. This was Pamela talking? The talented, sexy Pamela Jones whom I’d envied so much in sixth grade? Then I remembered how she had pulled out of the high school Drama Club last year because she figured she didn’t have a chance at a lead part. Now I was worried.
“You know,” I said, “if ever a girl needed to have a guy be loving and tender with her—a guy her own age—it’s Elizabeth.”
“I know that,” Pamela whispered back. “I was lying here thinking the same thing. And it’s not just tonight; I’ve been noticing how much he likes her. The way he watches her. When I’m feeling mature about it, I wish Ross lived closer so they could go out once camp’s over. When I’m feeling sorry for myself, I’m glad he’s in Philadelphia.”
We were both quiet awhile.
“I hate to see you feeling so low,” I whispered finally. “It’s… it’s partly your mom, isn’t it?”
There was a catch in her voice. “I get sad thinking about how we used to be, when we were a family.”
“I wish you’d consider yourself a part of my family for a while,” I said. “I wish you felt you could come over whenever you wanted and talk to me and Dad.”
I could hear a note of mischief creeping into her voice. “Lester, too?”
I knew Lester would kill me, but I said it anyway. “Sure. Just consider him your big brother. G’night, sis.”
“Good night, Alice,” she said.
10
* * *
The Great Kelpie Hunt
On the Fourth of July, each cabin was given a flag to hang out front, and the camp held a picnic. We had relay races and potato sack races, and the full counselors performed in a makeshift band with a tin whistle, a potato chip can for a drum, a harmonica, and a washboard. We hand-cranked peach ice cream, and each kid had a chance to turn the handle.
I thought this might be something Latisha would particularly enjoy, but if Latisha enjoyed anything, she kept it to herself. Gwen and I saw a modest improvement in most of our girls. Ruby quit trying to smuggle food from the dining hall, which to us meant she was more comfortable here at camp—didn’t feel as though there might not be enough food to go around. Kim was less fearful, Josephine more adventurous, Mary less protective. Even Estelle showed less prejudice toward Ruby and Gwen and, to some extent, toward Latisha.
But Latisha was like a sphinx. If we saw a change at all, she was a bit more quiet, but not, it seemed, less angry. Some of the Coyotes had asked to make a second twig basket to take home to someone they loved. But Latisha showed no interest in making more. She enjoyed contact sports, anything that allowed her to bump or push or pull or wrestle. Otherwise, she sat on the sidelines and glowered at everyone else.
On our last Friday, assistant counselors’ night out, the guys were planning to take us on the promised “Kelpie Hunt,” led by Phil. It was supposed to be a preview of what our little campers would get the following night.
“You can never tell what the guys have up their sleeves,” said Doris. “I think we ought to wear bathing suits under our shorts, just in case.”
“Hey! How about nothing under our shorts? I’d like that better,” said Pamela.
“I’m going to be sorry when camp’s over,” said Tommie. “I wish we had another week here. Craig and I were just starting to get chummy.”
“You could always write,” I said.
“Oh, you know how summer romances go,” she told me.
Elizabeth was thoughtful. “Well, Ross and I really like each other, and I wish ours would go on forever,” she said. “You know who I feel sorry for?” I hoped she wouldn’t say Pamela. “I feel sort of sorry for G. E. Why don’t we each try to say something nice to him before camp’s over? I mean, something spontaneous and sincere.”
“Like what?” asked Gwen.
“Anything. That you like his T-shirt. Or just sit and talk with him a few minutes. We don’t want him to know we agreed to do it, but it would give him something nice to remember about Camp Overlook. He must feel like the odd man out.”
“He is the odd man out,” said Doris.
“But you know how you’d feel if it were you,” I said.
“I suppose we can manage to find something nice to say,” said Tommie. “He’s not a total dork in everything.”
When the kids had gone to the dining hall and the full counselors took over for the evening, we assistant counselors gathered at one of the trailheads, where the guys were whispering among themselves.
I was relieved to see that Phil was there, obviously in charge. Sue had said that the Kelpie Hunt had become a tradition, sort of an initiation for all the new assistant counselors, but you could tell that the guys knew what was coming and the girls didn’t. It sounded like fun, though, and we went along with their joke—sort of like a haunted house at Halloween, except that the guys got to be the ghosts.
“O-kay!” Phil said. “Is everybody ready?” And the g
uys all grinned at us.
“For what, exactly?” asked Gwen.
“Here’s the deal,” Phil said mysteriously. “There’s a creature here at Camp Overlook that lives on the river bottom, and few have ever seen it. A kelpie is half ghost, half horse, and if it calls your name, you’ll feel this irresistible compulsion to climb on its back, where it will take you down under the water and you’ll never be seen again. Our job is to find the kelpie before it finds you.”
“Great,” said Pamela. “And which of you guys gets to play the kelpie?”
“Hey, ye of little faith!” said Richard. “It’s an old Scottish superstition, but doesn’t every superstition have something real behind it?”
“So what are we supposed to do?” asked Elizabeth. I noticed that Ross was standing behind her with his arms wrapped around her, face against her cheek. Elizabeth was stroking his hand.
Phil continued: “Well, the kelpie knows you’re here. It knows everything about us—who’s here, who leaves. We’ll try to spot it when it comes to the surface for air—capture it, if we can. If you hear it, of course, you have to go toward it. The trick is to keep from climbing on its back. That’s what the guys are here for, to protect you.”
“Yeah, sure,” we said, laughing. “And if it calls your name?”
The guys all looked at Phil.
“Oh, it’s gender-specific,” Phil said. “It only calls girls’ names.”
We laughed again and set off—some of the guys in front of us, some behind, with only the small beam of Phil’s flashlight to guide us. We figured that Gerald must have been assigned the role of the kelpie, because he wasn’t with us.
“Why are we going uphill if the kelpie’s in the river?” I asked.
“To throw him off guard,” said Richard, and the boys whispered some more.
We continued climbing, the guys holding back branches that would have scratched our faces, until finally we came out on a ridge in the moonlight. I hadn’t been on this trail or this ridge, but I could tell by the way the wind tossed my hair that we were up pretty high. There didn’t seem to be anything between us and the sky.