Page 5 of Class Clown

Cole offered a comforting word, promised to send me more details, and said goodbye.

So, yeah. I was going to summer camp.

The crunching of a plastic tarp being walked on woke me from a restless sleep three days later. The same tarp that I’d pulled over me in the night to minimize condensation in my sleeping bag had now become my alarm clock. I kept my eyes closed, pondering on if some of my registered nurse knowledge could help me slightly maim my baby brother. I took a deep breath, and when the frigid morning air attempted to ice my lungs, I coughed hard. Frowning, I wiggled farther down into my bag and felt a tug at my hair. That was strange. I shifted my head sideways and the pillow moved with it. Hmm. Not normal. I snaked a hand out of and felt around, assessing the situation, only to realize that my long hair was full of ice chunks and was now stuck to my damp pillow. Agood morningindeed.

I opened my eyes, blinking a few times as the rising sun attempted to blind me, and took in my surroundings. Azure blue sky, deep green pines, and zero clouds. Every experienced camper knew that a clear night like we’d had would make for chilly overnight temperatures, but my idiot brother had taken it one step further by setting up our sleeping area next to a stream. The moisture from the water had clearly floated over to us and created an ice trap. Glorious.

The tarp over me crunched again as footsteps neared, and I rotated my eyes to meet the grinning face of that genius younger brother of mine. He looked pretty snug in a red coat and black beanie, but the hem of his jeans and the toes of his hiking boots were definitely covered in dew. I hopedthey sprang a leak and he had raging frostbite by the end of the day. I would refuse him treatment.

“Morning Rube,” Cole chirped. “It’s sure brisk.”

Brisk is an old-person word used when they’re delighted by the iciness of the air. Brisk is seventy-six-year-old Barb coming in from her morning walk with pink cheeks and sparkling eyes, telling her husband Harry about the weather and how he should enjoy it before things start to heat up. Brisk was not the mood I was in.

I decided to let my predicament speak for itself, so I simply sat up, and watched his dark, up-turned eyes grow large as my pillow followed me, matted to my head, one side dangling and tugging at my scalp.

“Oh,” he moved closer, pulling a face. “Yikes.”

“Just had to camp near water, huh?” I asked.

“The running water is a soothing sound to fall asleep to.”

I nodded. “Yeah. Made me have to use the bathroom all night. Now I’m wondering what antibiotic I’ll need for the UTI that will be caused by my dangerously over-full bladder.”

“Why didn’t you go to the bathroom?”

I sighed. “So many reasons. A, I’m a woman and the forest is not my toilet, which means, B, I’d have had to find a bathroom, and C, while I was walking in the forest I might have seen glowing eyes looking back at me in the dark, which would have caused me to empty my bladder on the trail.” I shot him a look. “I’m still trying to understand why we couldn’t sleep in our cabin. Or at least in a tent?”

“The fumigation was supposed to be done before you arrived. Sorry, sis,” he replied as he squatted down, the soles of his shoes squeaking against the dew-covered tarp. “I’ve been camping here for and thought it would be okay. Want me to free you?”

I slouched. “Yes, I really do. While you’re doing that, think on the fact that I’m pulling out of our contract and you’re on your own.”

He tapped my shoulder. “No can do. It’s legal and binding. Don’t make me sue you.”

I scoffed. “I’ll arm wrestle you for it.”

He yanked lightly on my hair and the pillow shifted its weight. “That might have worked ten years ago.”

“You might be bigger than me these days, but I’m still tougher and have righteous anger on my side.”

He laughed, working the strands free. “Which is exactly why I need you at camp. Angry nurses are the best kind.” With one last yank my pillow fell to the ground. “There you go. No big deal.”

“Says the guy who has short hair and wore a beanie last night.”

“It gets cold,” he joked as he stood, his expression telling me how much he was enjoying this.

I rubbed at my eyes. “I need a hot drink.”

“Guess I owe you that.”

He moved away and I kicked my feet inside my sleeping bag, hoping to warm them up before standing on them. I looked around the field and took in the scene. It was as beautiful this morning as I’d imagined it would be when I’d arrived at dusk the night before after a whirlwind packing adventure. I’d arranged for my friends to check on my apartment, and headed to the mountains, not knowing what to expect.

It was kind of magical here, actually. Romantic in a way.

I got excited wondering once more what to expect, and coming up with possibilities. I knew that Windsong was a sleep-away camp for kids ages eight to sixteen and that each session ran from Sunday afternoon through Friday mid-morning, with the camp closed from Friday at noon to Sunday at noon. I was still a bit fuzzy on how Cole had landed the job. Sure, from his point of view it had all the things he loved. It was seasonal, requiring no long-term commitment, was outdoors, and he got to be a social butterfly. However, I didn’t see him being orderly, disciplined, and handling the business details very well.

And kids? They are wonderful, a gift from heaven, and the future of our world, sure. They’re also masterminds of diabolical thinking, and will come for you when you least expect it, sneaking past your defenses and rewarding you with surprises you never wanted. Did he know to be on guard?

When I’d expressed some concerns about a Lord of the Flies situation, he’d assured me that he had an assistant director, and a head cook, and a bunch of counselors to handle the kids and teach the classes. So, yeah, this wasn’t some rinky-dink campout. In fact, it appeared to be a legit, nationally accredited camp. I’d had to interview with someone above him, provide documentation showing I was an actual practicing RN, and pass a background check, so that was something. Also, I’d be gettingpaid. It was pennies thanks to them providing room and board, but it was something, and my bank account needed whatever it could get.

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