Camp Life by Lucinda Maison
“Part of me wants them to come and another part doesn’t. I think, mostly I don’t want them to come. It’s better for me if it’s just my dad and Allison. I’d rather talk to my mom after I get home…and my step-dad, well, him I’ll just put up with, whenever I have to see him.”
Ron nodded his understanding. He waited a few seconds, then asked “Do you want to take a turn at the crank? Work off some of that energy?”
Jim, Sean, and Toby all laughed.
“No, thank you,” she replied sweetly, while casting the puke-eye at the boys.
“It’s done anyway,” Sean put in.
He stopped turning the crank, and took it off. Ron carefully pulled off the lid and Jim lifted the dasher a couple of inches out of the can. There was a lot of “ooohing”. It looked perfect. Jim dropped the dasher back down and Ron replaced the lid.
“Let’s get this back to the kitchen.”
They carried it through the swinging door and saw a group gathered around two other ice cream makers. Peach and chocolate were also done.
“Thank you, thank you,” Noreen said, bustling around with a stack of bowls. I’d like 3 of you to stay and start scooping, if you don’t mind, and the rest can go out and get ready for the movie.”
People filed out slowly, reluctant to leave the ice cream.
As LaFawnduh and Kip rode away and the screen went black, Jim looked down at Patrick. “Did I miss something? Was that untranslatable into Australian or was everyone in that movie insane?”
“Certifiable.”
Sean leaned forward from the seat on the other side of Patrick. “Napoleon’s elevator doesn’t go all the way to the top.”
“He’s not the sharpest pencil in the box,” added Patrick.
Corinne laughed. “His river doesn’t flow all the way to the sea.”
Jim grimaced. “He has kangaroos loose in the top paddock.”
Patrick clapped his hands. “Can’t top that one, man.” He high-fived Jim.
“Seriously, that movie was popular years ago?”
“Huge.”
Jim shook his head, baffled. “The dance was funny, anyway.” He turned around to address Caroline. “You did it exactly right, when you were showing us before.”
“Thanks!”
“I don’t even know why that movie makes me laugh, but it does,” put in Jake.
Jim shook his head again. “I don’t know why it makes you laugh, either.”
Ron turned the television off. “Tomorrow will be your last full day before parents arrive. We won’t have any classes, you can do whatever you feel like doing. I know some of you will be working on skits for the show. Cal said we should have bread from his adobe oven for dinner. And the pool will be open an extra hour tomorrow night.”
There were a few cheers.
“Goodnight, all!”
Chapter 23
Manna
Dara came out of the bathroom with her hair up in a towel. She walked to her bunk, bent over, and grabbed the towel as it fell, rubbing her hair to get most of the water out.
Corinne and Caroline watched her comb it smooth. “How do you keep your hair from turning green?” Caroline asked. “You’re in chlorine all the time.”
“Oh, I’ve had green hair a bunch of times. A lot depends on how the water’s treated, I mean chemicals, how much chlorine, and the metals in the water. I’ve heard all kinds of things to do for green hair – wash it in lemon juice, tomato juice, tomato paste, crushed aspirin, baking soda…I put conditioner on before I swim and I always wear a cap, unless I’m just messing around. That usually works, and if I do get green, there’s a special shampoo that helps get the green out.”
“I think it would be cool to have green hair!” Corinne declared.
“Of course you do!” Caroline laughed. “I think I’d rather have green hair than shampoo with tomato paste, anyway.”
“Well, hurry up with your gorgeous hair and we’ll get started on the pedicures. Do you want Blue Frost, Grapetini, or Purple Passion? Classic Coral Crème? Always Sheer Camisole?”
“What color is Always Sheer Camisole?”
“Hmmm. Kind of light pink, I guess.”
“How much nail polish did you bring?” Caroline asked, astonished at the array of tiny bottles Corinne had lined up on the table.
Dara came over and sat down on the bunk next to Caroline. She reached out and picked up a bottle. “I like this one. Beach Blue.”
Caroline examined the colors again. She had never painted her toes before. It had seemed like a waste of time, but with Corinne and Dara, it sounded like fun.
“No, no!” Corinne exclaimed, taking the bottles from their hands. She handed Caroline something that looked like a goose egg.
There was a flat side to the “egg”, and when Caroline turned it over, she saw that it said “PedEgg”. She pulled the two halves apart and noticed what looked like a cheese grater on the underside of one of the halves.
“Oh, I’ve seen those!” Dara said. “There for taking dead skin off your heels.”
Corinne nodded, took the egg, and demonstrated on her own already-smooth heels. “We’ll get started with this.” She reached down into the biggest make-up case Dara had ever seen. It was covered in geometric designs of purple, red, blue, and pink, and the zipper pulls were enameled red lips and red lipsticks.
Corinne pulled out a smaller zippered case and opened it to reveal a tool kit a surgeon might envy. The girls glanced at each other uncertainly, while Corinne sighed happily.
After their feet were shaved, sanded, scrubbed, and soaked, nails trimmed, filed, and smoothed, and cuticles moisturized, pushed back, and cleaned up, Corinne allowed them to apply a base coat. She began on her own toes, but after critically surveying Dara’s and Caroline’s work, shook her head and took over for both of them. Dara and Caroline sat back against the wall with their feet propped on the table, under strict instructions not to move an inch, while Corinne labored over their toes.
Twenty minutes later, while Dara admired her Beach Blue toes, Caroline was surprised how much she enjoyed looking at Purple Passion nails against her turquoise flip-flops. Corinne was finishing up her own toes, applying topcoat to the last one. She sat back, replacing the brush in the bottle and screwing it tightly closed. Of the six colors she had brought with her to camp, she was wearing six colors. Her little toes were Beach Blue, the big toes were Grapetini, and the rest of her toes had a mix of the other 4 colors.
“What are we going to do for the rest of the day?” Caroline asked lazily. “I’ve got to work on that skit in awhile, but that won’t take long.”
“Make bread with Cal, later. Swim. Other than that…I don’t know.” Corinne stretched her arms above her head, yawning.
Dara stared blankly at her toes. “What are you and Jim going to do?” she asked suddenly, coming out of her trance.
“Oh, he’s in on that skit, too. Then we’re hanging out by the pool after lunch.”
“No, I mean, what are you going to do when camp is over? He lives in Australia and you live in Texas!”
Corinne smiled ruefully. “Yeah, nothing like a long-distance relationship.” She ran her hands through her curly blonde hair, making it stand out even more. “We’ve talked about it some. He usually comes here once a year, but that’s it. And I don’t have any plans to visit Australia anytime soon.” She added wryly. “So, we’re left with email, maybe some phone calls and texting, if we can figure out a way to do it so it doesn’t cost too much. Maybe Skype. And we’ll see…”
Dara nodded.
“You know, my mom flaked out on us, but my dad’s pretty cool, even though he’s a guy. I mean, he still freaks when I ask him to buy tampons, stuff like that, but he helps me, too.” She picked at a minute speck of polish next to the nail on her big toe. “One time, I was so depressed about this guy I liked…well, he dumped me when my mom ran off with the idiot vice-principal and everybody was gossiping about it.” She was pleased to notice t
Dara and Caroline clapped their approval.
“…my dad said that relationships at my age are usually just practice swings, like in baseball. You don’t usually marry the person you date in junior high, or even high school. You still have the same feelings and it can hurt, but it’s really practice for later on. He said he read it in a *chick book, if you can believe that, and it stuck with him. It kinda makes sense to me, too.”
She folded her lips and leaned back against the wall. “So, I know Jim’s probably like a practice swing, but I’d really like to stay friends with him, at least. He’s…special…different.” Corinne looked directly at Dara. “What about you and Drew? Idaho and California?”
“He’s promised to keep in touch.” Her eyes softened. “He said he wants me to know I can talk to him whenever I want, especially if my dad’s been “bullying” me…he thinks my dad’s a bully.”
Caroline and Corinne looked at each other.
“What would you call it? What he does?”
Dara brushed a fingertip over the smooth surface of one of her newly painted nails and Corinne swatted her hand away. She laughed shortly, then sobered.
“I actually looked it up in the dictionary. I mean, I know what “bully” means, but I wanted to see the definition anyway. You know how sometimes when you look up one word it leads you to another, and then another one?”
Corinne looked at her uncomprehendingly, but Caroline nodded slowly.
“I like to write, I like words,” she admitted sheepishly. “Anyway, the word that seems to fit the best is oppress, meaning to keep down and to make anxious or uncomfortable,” she quoted. Heaving a sigh, she shrugged her shoulders. “That’s my dad.”
“Drew always keeps his word, so you can count on him, Dara, like he said.” Caroline patted her arm. “And you’ve got me, too.”
“And me!” put in Corinne.
“Thanks. I really mean that. I think having someone to talk to about it, someone who understands…will make a big difference. You know, I used to think my dad would be happy if I was good enough in swimming…like if I was the best, then he’d relax and…and be nice…and show he loves us. Now, I think he’s a real “put down” kind of guy. And whether I swim great or mess up big time, it won’t change the way he is.”
“Wow. That’s pretty harsh.”
“Yes. Yes, it is.”
* Faking It, by Jennifer Crusie
Toby put his hand close to the oven’s surface, but didn’t touch. He could feel the heat, as he watched a thin curl of smoke rising through the can in the roof.
“What do you do, let the fire die down, then put in the bread?” he asked Cal.
Cal wiped his forehead with the back of one gloved hand. “This is just a starter fire. You build a little one first so the walls don’t crack. We’ll start a bigger fire later and let it burn for about an hour, then put the dough in the oven.” He bent down to the open oven door and used a small black broom to brush the coals and ashes into an old coffee can.
“Do you want to help me make the bread? He squeezed Toby’s bicep. “You look like you could do some excellent kneading.”
Toby lifted up his arm and flexed his muscle, with no noticeable effect. “Bring it on.”
Cal laughed, and they headed over to the kitchen. Corinne caught up with them just as they were taking the dough out of the big industrial mixer. “Just in time. We’ll knead it a bit by hand before we let it rest.” He looked down and noticed Corinne’s feet.
“Nice nails.”
“Thank you!” she beamed.
Toby was punching down the last ball of dough when Sean, Patrick, and Caroline strolled through the kitchen door. He had a small smudge of flour on his right cheek. Corinne had flour on her face and arms, and in her hair.
“We’re starved!” Patrick claimed to no one in particular. He walked over to Toby. “Is that edible yet?”
Toby held up the dough.
“Guess not.” He turned in a circle, making Geiger counter noises, as he searched for food.
Sean opened the refrigerator and took out some sliced Muenster cheese, and Caroline took down a box of Triscuits and a box of Wheat Thins from the shelf.
“You guys want some cheese and crackers?” Sean asked the others.
Toby had finished with the last ball of dough. He set it down next to the rest and Cal covered them with towels. “Sure,” Cal answered. “We can have a quick snack, then I need to get out there and build a big fire in the oven.”
Sean’s eyes lit up. “Sweet! Can we help?”
Fortified with cheese, crackers, and fruit, they all trooped out to the oven. Sean and Patrick made a good Boy Scout tepee of kindling inside the oven, and Toby added a modern touch using a long-handled butane lighter to get it started. They watched the kindling catch, the age-old fascination with fire holding them entranced. Patrick and Sean piled on bigger pieces of wood as the flames rose higher, and Caroline was thinking they should have brought out a bag of marshmallows and some hangers. And chocolate. And graham crackers. Had she known, Corinne was thinking along much the same lines.
“That’s enough, I think,” Cal said. “It’s got to burn for an hour or so, then we can sweep it out and put the bread in. Do you want to come back in an hour, or do you just want to try some of the bread at dinner?”
Sean and Patrick looked at each other, then at the other three.
“We could go play lacrosse for an hour,” Patrick suggested.
The others didn’t look thrilled.
“Or not,” Patrick added, watching their faces.
Caroline grinned at Patrick. “Why don’t you and Sean go play, and we’ll meet you back here?”
“OK. Sean?”
Sean nodded and he and Patrick took off to get the equipment, shouting a quick good-bye to Cal over their shoulders.
“Let’s go find Dara,” Toby said, predictably.
“She’s with Drew,” Caroline informed him.
His face fell. “Hey, what are we, yesterday’s meatloaf?” Corinne demanded, grabbing him by the back of the neck and giving him a little shake.
He knocked her hand away, but laughed. “Let’s go find Rocky, then. Cal said he was off chasing squirrels by the pond.”
They returned roughly an hour later, to find Sean and Patrick already standing by the oven. Rocky ran ahead, racing around Cal with a joyous bark, leaping on Sean, then Patrick, then prancing back to the other three, ears flattened and 3-inch long tail vibrating.
“You look like you’ve had a good morning!” Cal told him, reaching down to pat his back. Rocky smiled up at him, doggie delight evident.
Cal used the broom once again to sweep out the coals and ashes. The balls of dough were sitting on a tray on top of a stump. He grabbed a flat wooden paddle and handed it to Corinne. “You want to do the honors?”
She tried not to show how happy it made her, but a grin broke through. Accepting the paddle, she scooped up a dough ball and transferred it to the oven. When all six were cozy inside, Cal closed the door and stopped up the smoke hole with a rag.
“How about a little volleyball while these are baking?” He had planned ahead and brought the ball and a cooler of drinks.
Toby, Patrick, and Sean were on one side, Cal, Corinne, and Caroline on the other. Corinne sent her first serve not over the net, but sideways into the trees. Rocky had been near the line of fire, and he wisely retreated to a spot well behind the court.
Toby ran to retrieve the ball, and when he came back, Jim and Jake had come down from the lodge. They split up, with Jim on Corinne’s team and Jake on Toby’s.
Corinne got ready to serve again, even more self-conscious than she’d been before.
“Watch it, Jim!” Patrick called out. “Wild server over there!”
Corinne tried not to look smug, but was unsuccessful. Various good-natured threats and trash talk went back and forth as they played, until they began to smell the bread.
“Oh, man...that smell!” Jake sniffed loudly. “Is it done yet?”
Cal shook his head. “Not yet, I don’t think. It’s hard to say, because it’s not like you can set it for a certain temperature. I’ll check it in ten minutes and we’ll see.”
They tried to play for a while longer, but the smell distracted them. They finally quit, helped themselves to drinks from the cooler, and sat down in the shade. Rocky approached Corinne, flopped down beside her and rested his chin in her lap.
“Hey there, Rockman, howzitgoin’?” She gently pulled one long ear and then the other, and he once again rolled to his side to give her access to his belly. She obliged with a good belly rub, while Rocky braced himself with a paw on her knee.
“Do you have a dog at home?” Jim asked, watching her smile at Rocky.
She nodded. “Uh huh. He’s a Cairn terrier, with attitude.”
Toby frowned. “What kind is that? What does he look like?”
“It’s the same kind of dog as Toto in the Wizard of Oz.”
“Now you’ve done it,” Sean groaned, as Patrick’s eyes lit up.
“That dog’s a menace to the community. I’m taking him to the sheriff to make sure he’s destroyed,” Patrick began in the Wicked Witches’ voice, then switched to Dorothy. “Destroyed? Toto? Oh, you can’t! You mustn’t! Auntie Em, Uncle Henry, you won’t let her, will ya?”
Sean kicked out at him, landing a blow on Patrick’s shoe.
“I’ll get you anyway, Pee-wee,” the Cowardly Lion’s voice said, as Patrick put a head-lock on his brother.
“OK, OK!” Sean pleaded, pulling at his arm.