Mrs. Lambert didn’t respond, but Jenny heard her sigh. For the first time it occurred to her that maybe her troop leader didn’t like Dora Matthews any more than the girls did.
It was almost dark before all the tents were up and bedrolls and packs properly distributed. As the girls reassembled around their makeshift “campfire,” Jenny welcomed the deepening twilight. Not only was it noticeably cooler, but also, in the dim evening light, no one noticed the mess she had made of her sit-upon.
Once all the girls were gathered, Mrs. Lambert produced bags of freshly popped microwave popcorn and a selection of ice-cold sodas, plucked from the motor home’s generator-powered refrigerator. Taking a refreshing swig of her chilled soft drink and munching on hot popcorn, Jenny decided that maybe bringing a motor home along on a camping trip wasn’t such a bad idea after all.
“First some announcements,” Mrs. Lambert told them. “As you can probably guess, Mr. Foxworth’s motor home has a limited water storage capacity for both fresh water and waste water as well. For that reason, we’ll be using the restroom as a number two facility only. For number one, you can go in the bushes. Is that understood?”
Around the circle of lantern light, the girls nodded in unison.
Jenny raised her hand. “What about showers?” she asked.
“No showers,” Mrs. Lambert said with a smile. “When the Apaches lived here years ago, they didn’t get to take showers every day. In fact, they hardly took showers at all, and you won’t either. Unless it rains, and that doesn’t appear to be very likely. The reason, of course, is that since we don’t have enough water along for showers for everybody, no one will shower. That way, when we go home, we’ll all be equally grubby.
“As for meal preparation and cleanup, we’re going to split into six teams, of two girls each. Because of limited work space in the motor home, two girls are all that will fit in the kitchen area at any given time. Tomorrow and Sunday, each tent will do preparation for one meal and cleanup for another. On Monday, for our last breakfast together, Kelly, Amber, and I will do the cooking and cleanup honors. Does that sound fair?”
“What if we don’t know how to cook?” Dora objected. She had positioned herself outside the circle. Off by herself, she sat with her back against the trunk of a scrub oak tree.
“That’s one of the reasons you’re here,” Mrs. Lambert told her. “To learn how to do things you may not already know how to do. Now,” she continued. “It’s time for us to hear from one of our interns. We’re really lucky to have Kelly and Amber along. Not only are they both former Girl Scouts themselves, they also are well versed in the history of this particular area.
“When I first came to town two years ago, one of the things I offered to do was serve on the textbook advisory committee for the school board in Bisbee. In my opinion, the classroom materials give short shrift to the indigenous peoples in this country, including the ones who lived here before the Anglos came, the Chiricahua Apache. It occurred to me that there had to be a better way to make those people come alive for us, and that’s why I’ve invited Kelly and Amber to join us on this trip. Kelly, I believe we should start with you.”
Kelly Martindale stood up. She had changed out of her shorts into a pair of tight-fitting jeans and a plaid long-sleeved shirt. Her dark hair was pulled back into a long pony-tail.
“First off,” she said, “I want you to close your eyes and think about where you live. I want you to think about your house, your room, your yard, the neighbors who live on your street. Would you do that for me?”
Jenny Brady closed her eyes and imagined the fenced yard of High Lonesome Ranch. In her mind’s eye, she saw a framed house surrounded by a patch of yellowing grass and tall shady cottonwoods and shorter fruit-bearing trees. This was the place Jenny had called home for as long as she could remember. Penned inside the yard were Jenny’s two dogs, Sadie, a long-legged, bluetick hound, and Tigger, a comical looking mutt who was half-golden retriever and half-pit bull. Tied to the outside of the fence next to the gate, saddled with Jenny’s new saddle and bridle and ready to go for a ride was Kiddo, Jenny’s sorrel gelding quarter horse.