Jocelyn added to that, “Can you just not be like our moms, at least not all the time?” Karyn and Athena and I nodded fiercely.
After a few more moments of utter silence, our counselors began to look at us with something close to understanding, the annoyance and concern on their faces turning into something else. They raised their eyebrows in some weird camp counselor eyebrow communication, until Trinity spoke up again. “Well, we’ve never had a group of campers who started their own revolution! But we understand your point. A little breathing room. Everyone needs that. And while it’s a little tricky to know what’s enough, or—ahem!—what’s too much…”
Like our forest trek.
“… I’m actually pretty proud of you all for letting us know how you were feeling.”
Lulu, looking thoughtful, asked, “Where do the four of you suggest we go from here? Got any ideas?”
Now it was time for us to blink in amazement!
Karyn spoke up first. “You know, thanks for actually asking. So many times grown-ups just ‘do stuff’ for us and never ask what we want. Like, uh, just because I’m in a wheelchair I can’t make a decision. It stinks!”
I feel ya, Karyn. She is 100 percent right!
Then I tapped, “How about some free time? Just the four of us?”
Our counselors looked at each other, clearly shocked. I’m betting that no camper had ever asked for that before—to be left alone a little! They honestly looked like they didn’t know what to do.
“Well, okay, then!” Trinity finally said. “After we finish the lunch you four escaped from”—she paused and gave us a half-scolding smile—“we’ll check the schedule and see what we can carve out for some plain old quality free time in the next day or two.”
“But first, if you girls don’t mind,” Sage said, “can we have lunch now? I’m famished.”
The chicken noodle soup had gone stone cold, but somehow, it was especially delicious.
CHAPTER 28
After another swim lesson—hey, I might even get beyond jellyfish level!—and art, where I focused on maroon and pink this time, we realized we had an hour to kill before dinner. I’d glimpsed what looked like a playground off past the boys’ cabins as we left the arts and crafts building. Ooh, I thought, is it for us? You know what? It occurred to me that I’d never actually played on a playground! How messed up is that?
So I tapped to Trinity, “Can we go there, pleeeeeease?”
“Please, please, please!” Jocelyn added.
Athena was the winning plea, however, because she started singing, “Girls just wanna have fun!”
The counselors thought it was a great idea, so we headed over there. As we got closer, we literally all stared. Basically, this was like the playground of our dreams!
I’m pretty good at sitting on the sidelines watching while the kids at school play soccer or hacky sack or even something easy like cornhole, shooting hoops, or slamming volleyballs across a net. Occasionally, they take the time to wave, but not often.
I sometimes watched when Dad took Penny to the park to swing and slide, but we never stayed long because there wasn’t a whole heck of a lot I could do.
But this one—whoa! This one had all the hookups for kids like us. For starters, there were swings, of course, but they were massive. A whole wheelchair could fit into each one. Karyn flipped out.
“So we just wheel right up into it?” she asked Kim.
“Yep! Here, let’s try.” Kim rolled Karyn onto a metal platform, snapped and clicked her chair into place, and woo-hoo!—Karyn was flying! On a swing! Her chair flew back and forth and she screamed, “I’ve wanted to do this my whole life!”
A minute later, I was right beside her. Snap, click, pull me back, and yesssss!
Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh! I was swinging! Back—whoosh. Forward—whoosh. Again and again and again. I couldn’t get enough of the feeling of the air as it tousled my hair, forward, then back.
I looked to one side and saw the whole park soar past me. And then to the other side, where it happened again. In my head, I was yelling wheee just like every little kid I’d ever seen on a swing. So I was a few years late, but I was swinging!
No wonder little kids go wheee.
When I got off the swing, I was flushed and grinning and breathing hard.
Then Athena noticed that the slide was painted a dazzling pink. That was all she needed. “Pink slide next!” she called out.
“Next ride, Super Slide!” Sage agreed. I glanced up at the slide. When I touched its support poles, they felt soft and spongy as well as superstrong. It looked like it had been thought up by the mind of a kid like me, who grew up and said, “Hey, world—this is what we need!” It had two sides—one for sliding down while in a wheelchair, and one side for sliding simply by lying flat.
Trinity asked me, “Which side?”
I told her, “Both!”
And so we did. First we loaded my chair onto something that looked like a flat forklift, rolled me off, then slid me over to a specially designed wheelchair slide. They double-buckled me in, then whoosh! Me and my chair and even Elvira slid down! So fun! It was over in seconds.
“Again!” I pleaded. And so we did. Several times.
By this time Karyn had noticed where we were and hurried over to try the slide. A few minutes later, I smiled as I heard her shrieks of joy.
“Wanna try the other slide, the one that you slide down your self, Melody?” Trinity asked.
Well, duh! Absolutely!
When I touched this other slide, it was so different from what Penny slid down. It reminded me of the stuff that Dad’s camping tent was made of—soft yet sturdy. It must have been designed by a parent who had a kid who really wanted to slide, but for some reason couldn’t. Basically, us. Thank you, parent!
Jocelyn and Athena went first, then Trinity rolled me up a ramp, hooked me to a couple of latches, and whoosh, I was gliding down a slide like Penny. I was slipping and not falling, faster, faster, then ahhh!
The bottom was so soft and squishy that even if all those fasteners broke and I wiped out, I wouldn’t get hurt in the least.