I’ve been seen by zillions of doctors and therapists and specialists—so many I can’t even count. My parents do a great job of making sure I get the best medical and therapeutic care possible. But those doctors sometimes mess up too. Like, they’ll say I “suffer from” or I’m “afflicted with” cerebral palsy. Spoiler alert: I’m not suffering from anything. And just so you know, CP is not a disease. It is not contagious. Even if I sneeze on you. For real! My body simply doesn’t work like most of the people I know, and cerebral palsy is the name that doctors call my condition. It is what it is. And P.S., the mental part of my brain kicks butt.
By the end of sixth grade, we were supposed to know decimals to the hundredths place. But I can do well past the thousandths, although I have no idea why anybody would ever have to know that in real life. I can estimate the cost of our grocery bill, including the tax, before we even get to the cash register. And if I ever get to go to Europe, I can figure out the exchange rate of euros to dollars in my head, as well as share historical details about each city we visit!
Thanks to Mrs. V, I’ve studied French, and a few words of basic German. I can’t pronounce the words, obviously, but I can read them, or identify them when I hear them. If, for example, a couple in the grocery store are speaking French, I can recognize part of their conversation, or if the movie I’m watching was originally filmed in German, I can figure out quite a bit, especially if it has subtitles. I have secret powers! I’m all set. For now, though, I just wanted to go to Camp Green Glades.
“So, can I go?” I tapped again.
It took me a minute to do this. Tapping out words is harder for me than you might think, especially when I’m excited about something. My right thumb, which I depend on most of the time, sometimes gets the wiggles.
Mom told me to hold on—they were still reading. Then she said to Mrs. V, “Well, it’s surprisingly affordable! There are four girls per cabin, each with their own individual counselor. That seems like a good idea—safe, you know.”
If I could have rolled my eyes right then, I would have.
Mrs. V nodded emphatically, then added, sounding all excited, “There’s boating, hiking, swimming, and nightly campfires.” She stopped and grinned at me. “Optional activities seem to include some kind of… what?? Zip-lining?”
Mom looked at me. “They can’t be serious! That’s insanely dangerous!”
Dangerous! I have never in my life been given the chance to even think about doing something even a little bit dangerous! I’ve got to go to this camp.
“Oh, I’m sure they have safety protocols that are NASA-worthy,” Mrs. V said calmly. Then she was back to excited. “And, oh, Melody, get this—horseback riding!”
Um. Do they think I haven’t looked at the website a million times? And okay, truth, the horseback-riding part has me a little nervous. Like, how’s that going to work? I can’t even sit in my chair without straps. But these folks have been doing this for like twenty-five years, right? They must have figured it out by now.
So I tapped out again, “Can I go? Can I go?” I looked at Mom and did my best to conjure up the face Penny used earlier to get Mrs. V in on the firefly hunt.
Mom continued to ignore me, but I was cool, because if they were all excited, then chances were…
“Oh, and it’s only two hours away!” my mother practically shouted, as if that had been the deal breaker. Finally she turned to me. “Well, if we can fill out the application in a hurry, let’s at least try.”
Okay, I was super pumped. My legs did their kickety-kick thing, and my arms looked like I was conducting a million-piece orchestra.
While I tried to calm down, Mrs. V tabbed through the camp website. “I used to do a bit of riding when I was your age,” she told me. “Horses are incredibly gentle and understanding—and it says the ones they use at this camp are specifically trained for working with all kinds of kids.”
Mom added, “All those cowboy movies you and your dad watch, Melody—the horses always seem to be your favorite part.”
I rocked a little in my chair, thinking about me and a horse and a saddle. Yes, I love those cowboy movies. But in none of those movies were there kids like me. I had never even dared to think about me riding a horse. It had never crossed my mind! Until I discovered Camp Green Glades.
“How do I even get on the horse?” I tapped and Elvira asked out loud.
“From what I can tell from these pictures, they’ve got some sort of a pulley system to get you up on the horse and back down. Plus, you ride with a counselor.”
I’m trying to imagine this.
I think I’m feeling sorry for the horse!
CHAPTER 4
Mom downloaded all the paperwork for the camp as soon as Dad put Penny to bed. Which took forEVER because Penny had left her pet stuffed squirrel Doodle in the grass somewhere in Mrs. V’s yard, and Dad had to go hunting for it with a flashlight.
Camp Green Glades did not play around. The application was twenty-two pages long. I sat next to Mom while she typed in answers on her computer.
“These folks are covering every single possibility—and a couple of impossibilities!” she told me with an uh-huh nod. “I like that. If I’m sending my baby girl to a place she’s never been before, I’m glad to know they are very thorough!”
“Like what?” I tapped.
She read the list to me:
—Please give a full description of applicant’s abilities and disabilities.
—Does the applicant have seizures?
—Describe any allergies or possible reactions.
—Describe reactions to insect bites.
—List all medications the camper takes, the quantities, the times medication must be given, and any adverse reactions.
—Has the applicant ever had skin rashes, breathing problems, low blood pressure, high blood pressure, ear infections…?
She paused, scrolling through the impossibly long set of questions. “Gee, there are twenty-seven more questions just in this section!”
Most of them did not apply to me, so that made me feel pretty good. I’m basically healthy. A few weeks ago, when we went for my regular medical checkup, the doctor said I was fine and dandy—a “perfect picture of health,” he’d said.
Uh… yeah…
Mom continued reading the checklist:
“?‘Does the applicant need help with dressing, showering, bathing, tying shoes…?’?”
Yep!
“?‘Does the applicant need supervision in the swimming pool?’?”
Yep! For sure!
“Does the applicant have stinky breath and feet that smell like onions?”