...summer campe

the title is in the works

           I

            I waved as Mum pulled away in the family station wagon. I looked for the mist in her eyes and I was not disappointed to see it sparkling back at me. I felt it too. My stomach was welled up in familiar knots of apprehension, “butterflies”- although I always thought that was a bit of an understatement. I turned away just before I could no longer see her, my pride getting the better of me. I was 13 after all.  

            The camp councilors were trying to coax the arriving girls into their assigned units. Most of the girls were busily running all over the church lawn, excited by the prospect of summer freedom. A few others sobbed nervously over their Mum’s and Dad’s shoulders. I knew, from personal experience, that they’d forget they even had a family by the end of the afternoon.

            I reveled in my moment of anonymity and looked past the throng and up at the ancient steeple. The bell was missing. Just as summer camp at St. Peter’s was a faithful recurrence in my short life, so too was the chapel’s constant state of repair.

            Finally I was hunted down by a pig-faced woman that I didn’t recognize from the year before. “Unit Four’s are on the west side with Susan.” Glad that I was no longer a Unit Four, I puffed up my chest and retorted, “I’m Unit Five this time.” Piggy did not indulge me in my self importance but briskly maneuvered me to the rear of the building.  Handing me my name tag, she informed me that the councilor for Unit Five hadn’t appeared yet and I should join the rest of the girls in getting acquainted.

            As a St. Peter’s veteran I was surprised that I didn’t recognize anyone. I stuck my nametag on the bottom of my sneaker and began rummaging around, pretending to look for sun block. I peered out at my new summer companions from beneath the brim of my red visor. The girl closest to me was tagged Alyson. She was at least six feet tall and for a second I wondered why her mother hadn’t sent her to basketball camp instead. Steph, to her right, was chewing her gum with such smiling gusto that I wanted to cram a handful of sand into her mouth each time she opened it. I hated kids that chewed like that. The two of them virtually ignored me; too busy getting “acquainted” with another girl in purple argyle socks, with her back to me.

            Every year at St. Peter’s there seemed to be a posse of girl’s like that. Each of them guarded a set of matching luggage, while attempting to look casual in the blistering heat. They had the kind of parents who would congratulate themselves for delivering their daughter into the hands’ of the Lord, while they went to get drunk on some Fijian beach. The girl’s almost never came back.

            I moved my stuff a little ways away and sat down with my back against one of the oaks framing the church property. There were a few other girls milling around, some of them were making dandelion chains next to the ball diamond. No one really made an impression on me so I figured I’d let my acquaintances-to-be have the option of getting to know me first. I pulled my visor low on my forehead to try to ward off any reproaches from the councilors for not mingling.

            I bunched down my socks and examined my calves for mosquito bites to scratch. I picked one of the new scabs too hard and blood welled up in a tiny moon beneath my finger nail. I was admiring the ruby stain when outta no where a pipsqueak in braids plopped herself down beside me. I could tell she was staring at me but I didn’t really know how to talk to little kids since my brother was older and all my cousins lived in Arizona, so I just ignored her.  

            “Didn’t ya get your nametag?”

             I politely rolled my eyes, “Shouldn’t you be with the other kids in Unit Two?”

            “No,” she says, smiling and crossing her arms in triumph. “I’m in Unit Three.”

            “Oh,” was all I could think to say. To be honest I didn’t really mind the kid’s company, it would keep the councilor’s off my back at least. I fished around for a long piece of grass and popped the end into my mouth.

            “Aren’t you gonna tell me your name? I’m Julie,” she said, pointing at herself. Her dirty toes were sticking out about an inch over the edge of her sandals.

            “Hi Julie,” was all I replied, looking away. I was still unwilling to give up my namelessness, even if she was just a kid. She realized she wasn’t going to get anywhere with me and we sat there in silence for a few moments before the head councilor’s horn blasted off.

            “Well, see ya,” Julie awkwardly salutes over her shoulder, which I return half heartedly. With my brother’s old hockey bag slung over one shoulder, I trudged over to Unit Five. The councilor still hadn’t showed up.

 

Author's Note

this is a first chapter in the works....i'm looking for some plot suggestions, it can go so many directions right now...i can't decide if i want to explore adolescent female relationships, spirituality, a bildungslroman of sorts....any instincts?

Reviews

[Princess_ck84]

Naturally, I like supernatural or thriller type stuff, so that's where my suggestion is going to head... I think the development of the relationships between the female adolecents would be fun... but I would like to challenge you to make different chracters, not the typical stereo types you find in most young girl stories...

Your decription and what you've established so far is great! I wanted to keep reading :)

Plot wise, think it would be fun if there is some kind of ghost (weather it turns out to be a real one or just a real person the girls got spooked about) it could draw the girl's personalities out creatively as well bring them together... plus, I don't think you're much for the supernatural writing (judging on the other writing I've read of yours) so it might be a nice challenge for you.

So, anyway, good luck, hope I was some help at least :) Can't wait to see more!! Keep me posted!!