Wednesday started off kind of weird and wild. When we got to art, we were told to take off our shoes. Huh? Trinity laughed, teased me about stinky feet (I’m sure they weren’t), and explained that we were going to make footprints.
For somebody who had never walked before, this was intriguing. Trinity gave me a choice of colors, so I chose orange (trying to stay loyal to the Fiery Falcons) and purple (hmm—because of the Purple Panthers? Nah.). She pulled out two trays and placed the bottle of purple in my hands. “Squeeze, girlfriend,” she ordered. So I did. Gushes of paint splurted into the tray. When my foot touched the paint, it felt kind of cool, kind of like how I felt the color violet ought to feel. The other foot, which got plopped into a tray of orange, actually felt different—almost fruity. My toes wiggled tangerine.
Since I don’t walk, I hardly ever think about my feet, except to make sure I’m wearing the latest kicks. But this made me think about what feet were made for—for running and dancing and actually propelling the body to move ahead. We made several imprints of my feet because our first tries got smeared—I should get an Olympic medal for supreme extreme foot-kicking! But that orange-and-grape-colored “foot art” ended up looking awesome! Mom was gonna love this one.
When it was over, we cleaned up, although flecks of purple remained between my toes, and headed to swimming. I guess the rest of the purple washed off in the pool because I didn’t notice any on my feet when we got my sneakers on for music.
At music, I got to bang on some drums. Who says I can’t play an instrument? Pow! Pow! Boom! Boom! The drums were hooked up to a speaker, and kapowie! There was no right way or wrong way to do it. So whenever I hit the drum any kind of way I made lots of noise—woo-hoo!
But this was not Jocelyn’s happy place. She asked Lulu to take her outside. “I don’t like the boom boom boom,” she whispered, her eyes wide and distressed. Lulu rushed her out, and the two of them spent the rest of that session sitting on a bench, checking out the breeze.
Bam-bam-bam! Athena’s drums beat out. Bam-bam-bam! Karyn found some maracas and we had ourselves an instant band. We shook and hooted and performed for the counselors. I had no idea if we were any good, but we were loud, and yep, that was fun.
“I like being noisy!” Athena said. “Teachers always tell me to sit down and be quiet.”
I had to agree with her. A girl who can’t talk needs all the noise she can get!
By then, it was just about time for lunch, and we gathered a much more relaxed Jocelyn and headed back to the cabin.
“You okay?” Karyn asked Jocelyn, concern in her voice.
“Yeah, all good now,” Jocelyn replied, looking over toward a swath of yellow daisies decorating the edges of the grassy area by our cabin. Athena spied them too. She picked one and tucked it behind her ear. Then, her face radiant, she cried, “Ooh, this is a perfect place for a picnic! Can we eat out here—just the four of us?”
Karyn spun around in a little circle. “Ohmigosh, yes! A picnic!” she joined in.
As quickly as I could, I made Elvira say, “Yes, please!”
Our counselors looked from one to the other and nodded simultaneously. “You know, we haven’t done that in years,” Lulu said, all cheery. “Yes! Let’s have a picnic together!”
Karyn and I looked at each other. When the counselors said we, they included themselves with us. But when we talked about us, it meant just the four of us. Athena’s face fell, and Jocelyn pulled at the grass.
“You four sit right here, and we’ll go get everyone’s lunches,” Trinity said. “Shouldn’t take ten minutes.”
She and Kim made sure our chairs were locked.
“You good?” Trinity asked me.
“Fine,” I typed back. But not really. WE?
“Sure you’re all good?” Lulu seconded, looking at each of us.
We assured them that we were, so finally our counselors hoofed it to the dining hall, looking back about every hundred yards to check on us. But then they turned the corner past the cabins and they were Out. Of. Sight!
Ohmigosh. It was the first time the four of us had been totally alone. We all looked at each other, almost stunned.
Athena said it first. “They’re doing a picnic with us?”
“Yeah.”
“Yeah.”
“I guess so!”
“They’re super nice to get our food, for sure, but…,” Jocelyn said, “they are always, always, always around!”
“Yep,” Athena sighed with a roll of her eyes.
“Always around,” I typed.
“I know!” Karyn said, groaning. “They’re like my mom. She worries wayyyyy too much. When I’m at home, she checks in on me every single second!” She pulled at a lock of hair. “She’s probably peeking from behind one of those bushes right now!”
“Mine too!” Jocelyn exaggeratedly looked around in every direction.
“Our counselors are the exact same way,” Karyn said with a sigh.
“Yep. Like camp moms.”
“Helicopter counselors!” Karyn exclaimed.
“It’s like we’re little kids!” Jocelyn added.
We were all scowling now.
Athena picked up some grass and tossed it around her head. “They just expect us to do what they say—”
“Like we’re babies!” Karyn added, huffy. “Like we aren’t even capable of breaking a rule!”
“You ever break a rule? A rule? A rule?” Jocelyn asked.
“Never had the chance!” I typed, rolling my eyes.
Karyn’s eyes went suddenly bright, a sly smile on her face. “So let’s break one!”
“How?”
Jocelyn pointed to a path off to the left. “What’s down there?”
We had no idea.
“So let’s go see!” Karyn announced gleefully. She leaned to her right, unlocked her wheelchair, whirled it around, and headed for the path. Athena broke into a skip right behind her, Jocelyn by her side.
“Uhhh!” I said as loudly as I could. I wasn’t going to be left out of this little adventure!