Page 24 of Lovebug
April and Dante approach the supply station. After some careful consideration with Carol, the head of the camp, we decided to place these two with our youngest campers, figuring they could benefit from playing with preschoolers. Maybe it will give them a chance to return to some basic childhood magic? Slow down their rush to grow up? It’s worth a shot.
“Hey! Mabel!” April whisper-shouts from where she’s gathering googly eyes for her group’s spider creations. Not exactly anatomically accurate—I know—but who can resist googly eyes?
“What’s up, April?”
“The Waaaaaaall. Six o’clock!” she hisses.
I turn to look directly behind me, and a few yards away, the mystery man from yesterday is busy repairing a water fountain.
I turn back to April.
“Alright, my friend. You have to stop this. Starting rumors and making assumptions about a person is never the way to go. I think you’ll find that most people are perfectly lovely if you just give them a chance to show it. Let me tell you a little story.”
That’s what I’m supposed to be doing as an authority figure to these teens, right? Telling them helpful anecdotes and inspirational stories? Sure, why not.
“So. I work part-time at The Museum of Natural Sciences in the city as a guest bug lecturer and teacher. That’s how I know Holden actually! He was in my Critters Corner class and did a spring break camp there with us a few months ago. Anyway. There’s an amazing woman who works there as the head of paleontology. Her name is –“
“Dr. Knowles?” April asks.
“Oooooooooooh.” I shudder.
She and Dante look at me as if I’m insane.
“Sorry about that. Ahem. Yes, April,” I say, surprised. “That is her name. How do you know, um…” I hesitate to say it out loud.
“Dr. Knowles?” she supplies.
“Ooooooooooh.” I shudder again.
“My mom is on the board of the Museum of Natural History, so we know Dr. Knowles very well.”
“Ooooooooooh.” Geez, I thought I was over this. “April, just curious… about how many places is your mother on the board?”
“Oh, a lot. We’re very well connected.”
I’m learning that this is very true. Her mom is also head of the board for our neighborhood association. She has lots of opinions on, well, everything, such as the proper way to put out your recycling bins, what paint color is “appropriate” for window shutters, oh and whether or not someone can have a beehive in their backyard. But I’m not going to think about that right now because I’d like to preserve my good mood.
“Are you cold or something?” Dante asks me in confusion. “It’s like eighty degrees out here.”
“Nope! Not cold. Thanks, though. Nice of you to express your concern. Anyway. The point I’m trying to make is that this…. doctor I’m speaking of… she used to terrify me. I used to shudder anytime someone said her name.”
“Used to?” April says with a smile.
I ignore her quip.
“I thought she must be horrible because she didn’t smile that much and was kind of curt in her responses to people. But in actuality, she’s wonderful! She even connected my friend Calliope with an incredible opportunity working on a dinosaur dig in Mexico this summer with the love of her life!”
“Why are you telling us this?”
“Because I was judging her without taking the time to get to know her. I thought I had her figured out based on shallow observations: the way she smiled—or didn’t—the way she spoke, the way her eyebrows never moved…”
“My mom’s eyebrows and forehead never move,” April offers. “But that’s just because of all the Botox. I’d be pretty bummed if someone judged her based on that.”
“Exactly, April! Yes! We should judge your mother on her gossiping and inappropriate parenting, not on her Botox-ing!”
“Dayum!” Dante laughs.
Bit of a social fumble there, Mabel, but it’s okay. Keep talking.
