Page 52 of Lovebug
I am tempted to turn around and give him a piece of my mind. But my mind suddenly feels completely empty of pieces to give. I stare straight ahead at my friends, my face surely fire engine red.I feel him lean super close to me. Then he whispers, “Till Monday, Mabel,” and leaves the bar for good.
In the ensuing silence, Calliope mutters, “Damn… look at her. He’s got her all sorts of smurfnurblined.”
“What did you say?” I breathe out in a fog.
“Smurfnurblined. He’s got you smurfnurblined,” Calliope repeats.
“Yes! What is that-that-that… word? What does that mean? You all know what that means?” I shoot the questions off rapid-fire, suddenly full of energy.
“Of course,” they say in unison.
“Enlighten me, please?” I ask.
“Smurfnurblin,” Cyndi says like a fourth-grader announcing her word at the National Spelling Bee Competition.
“To be depressingly aroused,” Lou offers.
Calliope continues, “An extreme desire for sexual satisfaction that results in a bout of anxiety.”
“Smurfnurblin.” Cyndi wraps things up. “Want me to use it in a sentence?”
“No, that won’t, um, that won’t be necessary,” I say before dropping my head in my hands.
Depressingly aroused.
I hate to admit it, but now that I know the definition? April was one hundred percent right.
When that man is present…
I am the epitome of a smurfnurblin.
Chapter Ten
The next day, I’m making the rounds at the arboretum, and I am surprised and delighted by what I see. Everywhere I look, I see groups of kids laughing and hiking and singing. I see counselors engaging and nurturing. Even my CITs—who, let’s face it, I had my doubts about—are totally in the flow with their groups and are doing great work.
I smile when I spot April with a circle of our youngest campers. They are all sitting cross-legged outside the canteen, chomping on their afternoon snack. She’s in the middle of some kind of story, and every one of those precious little faces looks riveted.
I get a little closer to listen.
“So these two American girls decide to take this road trip through Europe. Everything’s going okay until they get to Germany, and boom! Their car breaks down in the middle of the night. Uh-oh! So they find this little cottage—wait, a cabin—I dunno… a villa? Yeah, let’s call it a villa. And they decide to stay at this villa for the night. But then! Oh ho ho,then, when they wake up in the morning? They find that they’re actually in this weird tiny hospital, and this psychotic German doctor dude is about to use them for his dream experiment.”
“What is his dream experiment?” little Isabel asks with wide, enchanted eyes.
“To surgically connect them in a glorious, horrific line. That’s right. One after the other.” She starts doing creative gestures. “Mouth to anus, mouth to anus, mouth to—”
“OKAY, THAT’S ENOUGH. WHAT A TRULY GRAPHIC AND INAPPROPRIATE STORY THAT WAS! LET’S NEVER THINK OF IT AGAIN! YAY, APRIL, YAY!!” I start clapping and squealing like a lunatic.
The kids join me in clapping, though they look understandably confused.
April proudly curtseys.
“Everybody finished with their snack?” I ask. “Great! On your feet! You are all due at Tony’s tent next to pick up your binoculars for birding, so chop-chop, everybody!”
The kids seem unfazed—thank goodness—as they gather their little backpacks and assemble in a line. Just then, Laurel, their main counselor, returns from the latrine.
“Thanks for holding down the fort, April,” she says as she jogs up to us.
“Not a problem!” April beams. “We had fun.”
