Christy Miller Collection Vol 3 Part 35

"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. Sh.e.l.l never have to spend a penny on mascara.

"Sara?"

"What?" the pet.i.te 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! n.o.body 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 hara.s.sed 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 counselors 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 ha.s.sle.

The food was good, better than she had expected. Amy dropped one of her dangling earrings in the bowl of applesauce as it was pa.s.sed 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.

"Yes," Christy volunteered in the room of five of her peers. "Except one of them keeps calling me *Teach.'"

"Don't worry," the dean said. "We've heard worse around here. Now we want all of you to meet each other. I prefer you call me Dean Ferrill rather than Bob or Mr. Ferrill."

The girl next to Christy was Jessica, and the other girl counselor was Diane. The guy counselors were Mike, Bob, and Jaeson. They each told where they lived and a little bit. about themselves. Mike and Bob were two college guys from Christy's church. Jaeson was from the same church as Jessica and Diane.

Dean Ferrill explained that several of the campers were what he called "potentially high maintenance" because they were from difficult home situations. He explained that some of them would be acting younger than their age because of their emotional challenges.

"We're not going to label these kids because we want all of them to be treated equally, but we want you to know that you may have expectations of your campers that are higher than what some of them are capable of handling. Be patient. Love them all the same."

He went over the schedule for the evening, stressed the camp rules again, and then prayed. Christy thought his prayer was touching, especially when he prayed for each of the counselors and for the campers as if the salvation of each kid was the most important thing in his life. Christy knew she could survive the week with him on her side.

As the meeting broke up, Christy approached Jaeson. "Hi, I have something to give you. I forgot it back at my cabin. It's a pretty sophisticated pocketknife I confiscated from one of your boys. His name is Nicholas."

"Yeah, Nick said one of the girls wouldn't leave him alone."

Jaeson looked like he was born to be a camp counselor. He had an athletic build and short black hair, with facial features that seemed chiseled out of stone. His sungla.s.ses hung around his neck on a black foam strap, and on his wrist were half a dozen leather "friendship bracelets" the campers had learned to braid at craft time.

"Why don't you bring it to the meeting tonight? I'll keep it for him."

"Thanks," Christy said.

She hurried up the trail to her cabin to grab her sweatshirt and the knife before the meeting started. When she opened the cabin door, three of the girls scampered like frightened mice.

"What are you guys doing?" Christy scanned the room for a clue. She spotted her makeup bag open on Amy's bed.

"Hey, what are you doing in my things?" She looked at her bunk and saw her duffel bag was open with some of her clothes pulled halfway out.

The three culprits, Sara, Amy, and Jocelyn, stood frozen.

Sara spoke up. "You said you were going to be in that meeting for about an hour. You weren't gone that long."

"Wait a minute," Christy said firmly, feeling her temperature rising. "The meeting has nothing to do with this. You got into my things without permission." She noticed that Amy appeared to have awfully pink cheeks and black smears around her eyes.

"Were you in my makeup, Amy?"

"Yes, Teach. But I was going to put it back."

"That doesn't matter," Christy spouted, looking at the three of them sternly. "You do not get into other people's things! Do you understand me?"

The three solemnly nodded.

"Amy, go wash your face. Sara and Jocelyn, put my things back the way you found them. Now!"

The girls fled to obey the orders. Sara knelt to repack Christy's bag and started to sniffle.

"You're mean," Sara said under her breath. "I wish you weren't our counselor!"

Christy felt like saying the feeling was mutual when she noticed what Sara was wearing. "Is that my sweatshirt, by any chance?"

Sara pulled the sweatshirt off and threw it on the cabin floor. "I was only trying it on. I wasn't going to really wear it!"

s.n.a.t.c.hing it up, Christy shook it out and put it on. Then grabbing her backpack, she felt inside for the pock-etknife, which was still there. The girls finished zipping up the bag of now-crumpled clothes and rose to their feet. Sara was still crying, and Jocelyn's lip was lowered in a pout.

"We're sorry," Jocelyn said. "We won't do it again."

Something inside Christy told her to take both girls in her arms and hug them. Maybe these three were some of the ones who had special needs. But she was too upset at the moment. Instead Christy took two steps backward and ordered them to get their jackets and come to the evening meeting with her. Maybe the evening's message would straighten them out.

The girls obeyed, still sniffling. Amy met them at the door, her face scrubbed and her expression almost frightened.

"Get your jacket and come with us," Christy said firmly.

She marched them down the hill to the meeting, making them sit with her instead of with their friends. The singing was lively and fun, but Christy's three prisoners didn't join in. They sat quietly through the speaker's message.

Christy began to feel bad for coming down so hard on them. She knew they were still thinking about what had happened in the cabin and not paying attention to the message. -As soon as the meeting was over, she told them they were free to go to the mess hall for the evening snack.

Just before the girls left the building, Jaeson came up to Christy and asked about the knife. She took her backpack off her shoulder to retrieve the knife and accidentally swung it too far, hittingJaeson in the chest.

"Oh, I'm sorry! I didn't realize how heavy it was."

Jaeson appeared unaffected. He reached over and gently squeezed Christy's shoulder. "You're going to get a muscle spasm before the week is over if you keep carrying that around."

"I'll lighten the load tonight," she promised, noticing that the three girls had reappeared by her side. They were apparently curious as to what was going on between their counselor and this buff guy, who was touching her in public.

Christy handed Jaeson the pocketknife and said, "I told Nick you would decide whether to give it back to him."

"No problem," Jaeson said. "Thanks for catching it for me."

"Can I try on your sungla.s.ses?" Sara looked up at Jaeson, her ginger eyes bright with admiration.