“NANCY!” SAM SAID BRIGHTLY, HER baseball-capped head popping up in the open door of Juniper Cabin, “I’ve got another one for you! This is Kiki.”
Sam backed away and a bright-eyed, smiling face appeared in the doorway, her braided hair held back by a colorful headband. “Hi! Is this my bunk?”
It was nine thirty the next morning, and I felt like it should be about five o’clock in the afternoon. Whole lifetimes seemed to have passed since breakfast! Four of my six expected campers were already milling around the cabin, chatting eagerly, choosing bunks, unpacking their things. Maya and I helped as much as we could and tried to keep the conversation going, not that the girls needed much help in that area.
“It sure is!” I said, jumping in front of Kiki with a smile. Ugh, I’m so sweaty! Too much running around in too short of a time! “Welcome, Kiki! It’s so nice to meet you. I’m Nancy, your counselor, and this is Maya, your CIT. We’re going to have so much fun this week!”
Kiki grinned. “Awesome!” she said. She looked around the room and her face fell. “It’s just, I need a top bunk. I hate the idea of being boxed in. And is there a place I can plug in my phone?”
“Um, how did you talk them into letting you keep your phone?” I asked. Phones were not allowed at camp. Not that we had any service out here, anyway.
“I just pointed out to them that it doesn’t work,” Kiki said. “So I can’t really use it. But I just like to have it with me. It’s like a security blanket, plus my camera. And I intend to take a bunch of pictures and post them to Instagram as soon as I get back to civilization! No offense,” she added quickly, reaching out to touch my shoulder.
It took me a minute to figure out what she meant. “Uh, none taken,” I said. “I don’t live here either, remember?”
“Right, right,” said Kiki, looking around at the girls milling all around us. “HEY, LADIES! Would anyone be a super sweetheart and trade me for a top bunk? I would totally pay you back with a pedicure. I do the best nail art, not to brag!”
The other girls all circled around Kiki, peppering her with questions as Cece, a camper from Chicago, cheerfully led her to her top bunk. I looked at Maya and slowly shook my head, impressed. The campers had such confidence so far! I couldn’t imagine walking into a cabin full of strangers like that and commanding the room—but it was a nice quality to have.
Maya moved closer. “Just one more,” she whispered.
“That’s right.” I glanced out the door again but didn’t see anyone heading in the direction of our cabin. Outside was total pandemonium. Campers climbed off buses, which had brought them from bigger cities like Chicago, or emerged from cars, surrounded by concerned parents and siblings. They met Deborah or Miles, who looked up their assignments on their clipboards and then passed them on to Sam or Taylor to bring to their correct bunks. The next hour had been reserved for a “getting to know you/unpacking” period, followed by a special hike and picnic lunch, led by each bunk’s counselor and CIT. Maya and I had already looked over the camp map and planned a long hike to Mushroom Creek, way on the north border of the camp property.
“How are you holding up?” I whispered to Maya. When we’d returned from the lake the night before, it had been clear to me that Maya was scared by all the ghost talk. She wouldn’t admit it, but she seemed pale and edgy, not her normal bubbly, excited self. We’d talked it over a little, and I’d explained to her again that I strongly felt that the story was not true. I tried to downplay my own incident in the lake too, repeating that I wasn’t sure what I had seen. But Maya still seemed a little nervous. She’d tossed and turned for a while before finally falling asleep.
I shouldn’t have listened to Bella and gone to the stupid lake in the first place, I chastised myself now. Oh well. Next time I’ll know.
Maya shrugged. “I’m okay. Everything seems different in the light of day.”
I knew how she felt. Even though the past two nights had been filled with creepy, ice-cube-down-the-spine moments, it was hard to recall those feelings when the sun first shone into our cabin. Even more so now, when our cabin was full of giggling, smiling campers.
A light knock on the cabin door turned my attention away. It was Taylor, smiling eagerly. “Last one, right?” she asked, holding up a clipboard.
I nodded but looked around Taylor for the camper. Where was she?
Then Taylor gently said, “Go ahead—don’t be nervous!” and nudged a small, blond-ponytailed girl into the doorway. She hugged a dark-green backpack and had large, tortoiseshell-frame glasses.
“Hi,” I said warmly, sensing that she might be shy. “I’m Nancy, your counselor. Welcome!”
The girl just nodded and looked at the floor.
“What’s your name, honey?” Taylor prodded her.