Chapter 5 #2
‘Denial is one of the stages of grief,’ Freddie said, and Alice worried for a split second that he was going to pull out a pamphlet. But then he continued, jokingly, ‘And I hear artistic expression is another.’
Alice looked back at the landscape she had painted. To her eyes, it was angular and frantic, an explanation hastily formed which had never been asked for in the first place. ‘You know, I think you might be onto something with that one.’
Alice finally paid Cook a visit at the end of the day. As a university friend of Susan’s who’d been working at the camp since its inception, his camp preparation routine was a well-oiled machine that he didn’t allow to be disturbed.
However, there were certain things that – while predictable – Alice was required to put a stop to now that she was an authority figure. When she didn’t find him in the kitchen, she climbed the stairs that led to his room and knocked on the door.
‘Who is it?’ came a deep Scottish brogue from inside.
‘It’s Alice.’ She paused. ‘Alice Hughes.’
The door swung open. ‘Alice Hughes?’ Cook echoed, sticking his head out and peering at her. ‘Can’t be. Alice doesn’t come ’round these parts anymore. She renounced our friendship years back. Called me an old coot and said she wanted nothing to do with me.’
‘I’ve missed you too,’ Alice said drily, not able to or wanting to articulate how strange it was to have Cook, an ever-present figure from her childhood, in front of her again.
His hair was fully grey now, another reminder of the years she’d left behind.
She wondered if it would have felt any different to see Susan in person before she’d died, because they’d kept in such close contact.
And she was immediately seized by a familiar guilt – she should’ve flown home as soon as she knew Susan was dying.
She should have flown home years ago, when Susan had first been diagnosed.
If she hadn’t let her shame stop her, maybe things would feel different now.
‘Well, come in,’ he said, gesturing for her to step inside. ‘Let me get a look at ye in the light.’
She’d never been invited in before; it wasn’t the sort of place campers or counselors were welcome.
The whole place was smaller than her room in London.
But there was a record player quietly spinning The Grateful Dead’s American Beauty and a few knickknacks – a family crest, an intricately-designed bong – that marked it as lived in.
With her new access to the camp financial records, Alice knew that in addition to room and board, Cook made a decent salary.
What he did with the money, she had no idea. Well, she maybe had some idea.
‘Cozy,’ she said, eyeing the bong.
He narrowed his eyes at her. ‘Well, yer a smart-ass just like Alice was. But yer missing the Goldilocks.’ He waved a hand toward his own hair.
She shrugged. ‘I’ve accepted my very boring brown hair.’
‘Ach, don’t say that,’ he scolded. ‘You’ve never been boring, always been extraordinary. Extraordinarily annoying, that is. Breaking into my kitchen with Briar at all hours, as I recall. I’d wake up and half me ingredients would be missing.’
Alice stifled a laugh. Camp was the only place she’d ever let herself break the rules.
It was something she’d convinced herself was dangerous when she was eighteen and had broken the biggest rule of them all.
But being back here, it felt like that was what childhood was meant to be: no academic pressure, no filling all hours of the day with meaningless resume-stuffing extracurriculars, and no perfect-girlfriend act.
‘You’d rather I’d have starved?’ she asked, folding her arms.
He scoffed. ‘As though I weren’t feeding ye well. I just hope ye haven’t taught the new counselors yer old tricks,’ he said gruffly. ‘I assume as I’ve been told yer now camp director that there’ll be no more funny business.’
He inflected her title with a warranted dose of skepticism. He had often referred to Susan as simply the camp director when he was in a mood with her, and the invocation made Alice acutely aware that Susan was gone. She swallowed.
‘Co-director,’ she corrected him. ‘Me and Briar.’
‘Well, of course,’ he said, as though anything else were inconceivable. ‘Could never separate the two of ye, could we? Even when ye were assigned different cabins for the summer, ye’d find a way ’round it.’
A laugh escaped her. ‘I forgot about that,’ she admitted.
When they were fourteen, Susan had decided the formidable Alice-Briar alliance was preventing them from properly socializing.
She’d explained that it would be good for them to meet new peers, to prevent stagnation and co-dependency.
Alice had paid another camper in smuggled Silly Bandz to switch bunks with her in the middle of the night, night after night, until Susan had given up on the idea.
‘What have you come to tell me?’ Cook asked, but he sounded like he already knew.
Alice shifted her weight uncomfortably. ‘I’ve heard mentions of, um, certain odors emitting from this vicinity.’
‘A snake, that Sierra is,’ Cook griped. ‘She just wants to direct the attention away from whatever she’s getting up to.’
‘Yes, well, as camp director, it’s now my responsibility to remind you that when the campers arrive in a week, you will have to partake in any substance use outside of the grounds. And, of course, outside of any working hours.’
‘Hmph,’ Cook said. ‘Yer as bad as Susan.’
She felt oddly proud at the thought. ‘Thanks, I think.’
‘It wasn’t a compliment,’ he clarified.
‘Well, she was your best friend.’
‘Aye,’ he said softly. ‘That she was.’
As soon as Alice set eyes on the unmown clearing where the archery range should have been, she knew it was one project she wouldn’t be able to do on her own. So she sent Sierra for backup while she opened up the dusty shed housing the bows, arrows, and targets along with an ancient lawnmower.
‘Sierra said you needed help,’ a voice said from behind her, and Alice turned to find Briar there. ‘I was kinda hoping you’d been mauled by a bear.’
‘No mauling. Just need help setting up,’ Alice said, turning back to the shed. She pulled out the lawn mower and pointedly pushed it in Briar’s direction. Somewhere, under all the grass, were lines of bricks that made up the lanes. ‘I thought she’d send Freddie.’
‘Well, you’ve got me instead,’ Briar said, eyeing the mower dubiously.
Alice shrugged. ‘You could clean the spiders off the targets if you’d prefer.’
‘Mowing it is!’ Briar said, like Alice had known she would.
‘While I have you, maybe we should talk about the start of the session,’ Alice called out as she began to roll one of the targets to its proper spot and Briar started the mower.
‘Right now?’ Briar yelled over the motor.
‘Yes,’ Alice replied. ‘While you’re mowing and can’t run away from me.’
Briar turned, making a face. ‘Running away? Isn’t that your thing?’
‘Sorry,’ Alice said, ‘I was trying to make a joke. You know I’m no good at those.’
‘What’s there to talk about?’ Briar asked, biting her lip in concentration as she pushed the mower.
‘Well, I was thinking we should come up with a system,’ Alice said. ‘So we’ll know where everyone is at all times.’
Briar laughed. ‘My mom always said it was better to have half a system.’
Alice frowned. ‘How can you have just half of a system?’
‘You’ve gotta be ready for the unexpected,’ Briar said simply. ‘These kids, they’re gonna do whatever they want. We have to be able to roll with the punches.’
That was a sobering thought for Alice, who’d never been one to roll with anything. ‘Okay, half a system. Got it. Let me think.’
She set herself to work as she thought. In the summer heat, it didn’t take long before they were drenched in sweat.
Alice stared when Briar stopped to pull off her T-shirt, hanging it on the mower’s handle and leaving her in just shorts and a sports bra.
She thought she caught Briar glancing back at her to see if she’d been looking, but she wasn’t sure if her mind was playing tricks on her.
There had been a few times she’d thought Briar was looking at her this week, but when she’d checked, Briar had always been engrossed in something else. It was making Alice feel crazy.
It had been such a long time since she’d been self-conscious like this, but it was familiar to her. In high school, she had marveled at Briar’s easy confidence. She had moved through the world so effortlessly, and Alice felt like a try-hard in comparison.
It had taken her a long time to realize that her constant observation of Briar hadn’t been jealousy, but attraction. She had thought she’d wanted Briar’s approval, when really, she’d just wanted Briar to look at her.
‘You’re going to get sunburned,’ Alice called after her. Briar waved a dismissive hand, not turning around.
It took Briar almost an hour to finish mowing the green, but by the end of it, the clearing looked infinitely better. As Briar wheeled the lawn mower back towards the shed with a satisfied smile, Alice was still struggling with the last target.
Briar came up next to her, adding her own weight, and the two of them pushed the target into place.
Alice cleared her throat, backing away and keeping her gaze off Briar’s barely clothed torso. ‘If we have half a system, do we just have to know where half of everyone is half the time?’
‘Something like that, yeah.’ Maybe it was just the endorphins from the manual labor, but Briar looked like she was hiding a smile, and Alice seized the opportunity.
‘Do you want to give it a go?’
‘God, no,’ Briar said, immediately shrinking away from the bow Alice offered. ‘I’m terrible.’
‘You’re decent,’ Alice said supportively. ‘Just not as good as me.’
Briar scowled, but took the bait, grabbing the bow and quiver. She lined up her shot, and Alice admired the determination in her eyes as she sized up the target. Alice’s eyes caught on the sliver of tongue that brushed over Briar’s lower lip as she drew back the string, way too hard.
‘Woah,’ Alice said, reaching out and stopping just before she grazed Briar’s elbow. Instead, she shifted closer, stepping in behind Briar and kicking her front foot forward a little. ‘Good, now relax your elbow.’
Alice wasn’t touching her, but she was acutely aware of how little clothing Briar was wearing, how close they’d become.
Briar sucked in a breath, and Alice felt like she was about to vibrate out of her skin as she placed a hand on Briar’s hip, shifting her weight to her back foot. ‘Look at the target.’
Alice watched Briar squeeze her eyes shut then blink them open again, her gaze focused across the field at the target.
She didn’t move her hand from Briar, even though the heat of her skin was burning her.
It should have been too much in the sweltering summer, but Alice’s mind was playing the sorts of tricks that made the radiating warmth between them pleasant.
She couldn’t help herself, moving impossibly closer, her mouth just below Briar’s ear.
‘Now let go.’
Briar’s arrow hit the third ring of the target.
Not a bullseye, but it was the best shot Alice had ever seen her make.
Alice stepped away, lightheaded, and brought a hand up to cover her eyes and shield her reddening cheeks.
She didn’t know what she had been thinking, getting so close to Briar. Nothing good could come of that.
‘Not bad.’
Briar looked down. ‘Shut up.’ She held out the bow to Alice. ‘Come on, I know you want to show off.’
Alice grabbed the bow. Even though she hadn’t done this in years, her muscles remembered the basics. Her fingers notched back the arrow, shoulders and hips squaring, and she looked straight at the target, bringing the butt of the arrow to the corner of her lips. She breathed deeply, and released.
The arrow sunk into the yellow of the bullseye. Alice felt a thrill at the sight.
She turned back to see Briar grinning. ‘You always were good at that.’
Alice shrugged, resting the bow on the ground. ‘That’s what happens when you develop a thing for Legolas at an impressionable age.’
Briar laughed. ‘That should’ve been my first clue you were a lesbian.’
Alice smiled, hoping that Briar joking with her meant that she was at least a little forgiven.
‘I think there were a lot of clues, actually,’ Alice tried to joke back.
Briar’s face shuttered, and Alice realized she must be thinking of that night again. There was an awkward pause where she didn’t know what to say. The easy air between them had suddenly turned cold. Alice opened her mouth to say something, but Briar beat her to it.
‘Well, I think we’re good here. I’m gonna go check on Cook.’ She turned on the spot and disappeared down the path leading back to camp, leaving Alice standing in the middle of the field, holding the bow and wondering how she could possibly fix this mess.