12. Miller
Ding-ding-ding-ding.
The camp bell reverberates through my head as I force my eyes to open. How is it morning already?
I’m usually pretty good at being a morning person. I like the silence, and also the opportunity to set up pranks before my friends have had their coffee. Yesterday, it worked out in my favor when I ran into Becca on the swing by the lake.
Hot, smart, and a morning person. Who could ask for more?
Sure, it seemed like she was contemplating ways to get rid of me, but any attention works. I just need time to grow on her.
This morning, though, I’m dragging. Dave and I spent yesterday cleaning the cabin—it still looks and smells a little musty—and figuring out things to do with the campers.
We even decorated a little after Becca gave me the idea, cutting out shapes of construction paper and writing campers’ names on them. I mean, they’re just shapes, because artistic skills aren’t exactly our strong suit. But I’m proud of our hard work as I look at the door with its colorful decorations.
I started to get swept up in the excitement as we planned, but all the moving things around and sweeping and shit has me feeling like an old man this morning.
I groan out loud as I swing my legs over the bed and feel around the floor for my sandals. Just need to make it to the dining hall for some coffee. Then I’ll be a functional human.
When thinking about coming up here, I didn’t exactly anticipate this little gem, which is that unlike in my apartment, the coffee isn’t within a few steps. It’s across camp, in the dining hall. I have to put clothes and shoes on and trek all the way there to get a little caffeine, and in the mornings, it’s cold.
Maybe I should have brought the sweatshirt the packing list recommended.
I push a hand through my hair, studying the row of cabinets that form a small divider between my bed and the bunks where the campers will sleep. They make a nice countertop. Dave and I should figure out a way to put a coffee pot in here. Even a small one would get the job done, and our campers are all eight and nine years old, according to their paperwork, so it’s not like they’d be stealing it.
I think. Kids that age don’t drink coffee, do they?
I pull on my favorite faded Philadelphia Firebirds t-shirt and a pair of jeans, then slip my feet into the Birkenstocks knockoffs. Good enough to make it to the coffee.
I roll on some deodorant just in case I run into Becca, too.
The morning goes by in a flurry of last-minute cleaning, setup and other things, punctuated by two more trips to the dining hall for coffee refills, and before I know it, someone knocks on the cabin door.
“Hello?” a woman calls. “Is this Fireflies Cabin 2?”
Dave practically jumps off his bed, beaming. “Sure is! Are you our first camper?”
I force myself to my feet from where I’ve been lying on my bed, daydreaming about Becca’s tits. I’m excited about the campers too, but the rabid enthusiasm on Dave’s face is hard to match.
“This is Liam. It’s his first year at camp, and he’s so excited!”
“Right on, man! Put it here.” Dave holds his hand up for a high five, which the kid reluctantly returns.
In contrast to my co-counselor, Liam is doing a remarkable job of hiding his excitement.
Dave gestures at me. “I’m Dave, and this is Miller. We’re Liam’s counselors. Liam, you want to pick a bed? Since you’re the first one here, you get first dibs. Your mom can help you get your stuff set up once you choose.”
Liam’s mother leads the way into the cabin and waits, sleeping bag in hand, while Liam weighs the merits of a top bunk versus a bottom bunk. He settles on a top bunk just as another kid appears at the door, walking in like he owns the place.
“I’m Noah,” he says without any preamble.
I look around for his adults and finally spot them several yards away. I give them a wave as Noah walks into the cabin and selects the top bunk opposite Liam.
The two campers so far seem like polar opposites, and I realize I hadn’t considered this possibility. What do we do if they don’t get along?
Before I can worry too much more about it, two more campers arrive at the same time and take the final two top bunks, settling the question of whether top or bottom bunk is more popular. Looks like top wins in a landslide.
As campers three and four—Mason and Oliver—settle in, Liam and Noah have started discussing their favorite Pokemon characters, and Liam seems to be coming out of his shell as he defends the superiority of Charmander over Squirtle.
“Miller?” I look over to find Mason peering at me, his little legs crossed.
“Yeah, buddy?”
“Where’s the bathroom?”
He couldn’t have gone while his parents were still here? They left like three minutes ago. I stand up from the bed, where I finally sat down all of thirty seconds ago. “I’ll take you.” I raise my voice slightly. “Anyone else need to use the bathroom? Or want to come along to see where it is?”
I lead the way to the bathroom—also far away from the cabin, just like the coffee—with four small boys following behind me like I’m the Pied Piper. I direct them to the stalls and lean against the counter while I wait.
“Miller?” A small voice comes from one stall.
I’m starting to hate the sound of my own name, and it’s been less than an hour. “Yeah?”
“The toilet won’t flush.”
I knew I should have sent Dave on this little bathroom expedition. Fortunately, I like to keep things clean around my house, and I know just how to fix a clogged toilet. I just don’t like to.
“Okay, just finish your business and I’ll take care of it when you’re done.”
Ten minutes and one toilet plunger later, I lead the boys back to the cabin.
“What took you guys so long?” Dave asks, a furrow to his brow. There’s another camper setting up his bed on one of the bottom bunks.
“The toilet got clogged and Miller had to unclog it,” Noah pipes up.
Dave chuckles. “Good for Miller.” He motions to the new camper, who’s sitting cross-legged on one of the bottom bunks. “This is Caleb. Make him feel welcome, guys. We have three more coming and then we’ll go to the swimming area so they can see what level you should all be in.”
This thought perks me up somewhat. Not because I’m that excited about swimming, but because Becca’s campers will have to do their swim test, too.
I cross my fingers that we’ll end up at the swimming area at the same time.
* * *
The three remaining campers—Jack, Ben, and Grayson—show up just before the end of drop-off time. They get settled in while the earlier arrivals change into their bathing suits.
“Okay, guys. Everyone have a swimsuit on?” Dave is taking charge of everything today, and I’ve never been more grateful to not be the center of attention. I’ll get back to that eventually. I just have no clue what I’m doing, so I’m content to fly under the radar for now.
The campers nod as the last few pull their swim shorts on.
“Okay, friends. Let’s go. Shoes on and bring your towels.” Dave exits the cabin and stands by the door, and I follow along with the campers. I probably have just as much experience as they do at this point.
“Miller, are you swimming too?” Ben asks.
A spark lights in my mind. There’s nothing I love more than acting like an idiot, and something tells me these kids will eat that up. Here’s my opening. “You know what? Yeah, I am.” I duck back into the cabin and pull on a pair of swim trunks before Dave and I herd the campers down to the waterfront.
Jana and Andrea are standing on the floating dock, lifeguard tubes strapped over their shoulders as campers splash in front of them.
The sight of the bright red floats reminds me of lifeguard training. God, having Becca up against me was the heaven I didn’t know I’d been missing. I wonder if we’ll get to do something like that again later this summer.
The two women hand out wristbands of varying colors to the campers as they make their way out of the water. Once another cabin’s worth of dripping kids are standing on the sand, Jana motions to our group.
“Come on in,” she says, gesturing.
Dave gives two of our boys a little nudge. “Go ahead, guys. Leave your towels on the sand.”
They drop their towels in a heap and splash into the water. I wait until they’re waist deep, focused on Jana, then charge into the lake.
“Cannonball!” I yell, launching myself in front of them. When I come up to the surface, they’re giggling and seem a little more at ease. I flick my head to get the wet hair out of my face.
Even Jana is smiling slightly. “Okay, guys. I need the campers—and Miller, if he wants to—to swim out to that rope there”—she points—“and then back to me. I’m going to watch to make sure you’re safe swimmers, and then you’ll each get a wristband that tells you how deep you can go in the lake. Reds can swim to the first rope just past this dock, blues to the second, and green can go all the way to that dock out there.” She points to the square floating at the far corner of the deepest section.
She blows her whistle, and the boys set off in a flurry of arms and legs and splashing water. I lean up against the dock and watch them. I’d hoped that Becca would be here with her campers, but I’m having fun anyway.
Jana and Andrea hand out wristbands after a few more laps, with all of the campers receiving blue or red. Dave waits while the nine of us splash back to the beach and towel off.
We stick our sandy feet back into sandals for the walk back to the cabin. There’s a remaining drop of disappointment that Becca didn’t get to see my antics, but there’s always dinnertime.
* * *
Four hours later, I’m drained. Being a camp counselor is hard. Not any one thing specifically; I can handle swim screening, taking kids to the dining hall for dinner, helping them pick their classes for the week, settling them around the campfire on the beach, and keeping them from throwing sand at one another, even plunging two more toilets while they brush their teeth. It’s more the fact that it’s nonstop.
Just when I start to feel proud of myself for getting the campers safely through something, it’s either time for another scheduled activity or something has cropped up that I need to deal with.
On the plus side, and I give myself a pat on the back for this, none of the kids have gotten injured today. I may have learned about first aid last week, but I don’t want to have to actually use those skills.
The campers look tired, too. In fact, only Dave actually looks like he could stay awake at this point. Which is fine for the kids, since it’s 8:30, but that seems a little early for me to be ready to pass out.
“What was your favorite part of today?” Dave asks as the boys snuggle down into their beds.
“Pizza for dinner,” Liam mutters into his pillow.
“Swimming,” Ben says, prompting a nod from two other boys.
Noah sits up in bed. “The best was when Miller cannonballed into the lake!”
I hold back my smile, hoping he’ll lie down and go to sleep, but when he finally does, two more kids sit up, too. It reminds me of whack-a-mole, except I don’t think we’re allowed to actually whack them.
“Yeah, that was the best! Miller, will you do that again tomorrow?” Caleb asks.
“If you guys go to sleep, I’ll think about it,” I say, letting the smile spread over my face. Hell, I’m not above bribery. I just didn’t think they’d offer up the leverage so easily.
The two that are sitting slam their heads onto the pillows with terrifying speed.
“We’re asleep,” Noah assures me, his voice muffled.
“Glad to hear it, little man,” I say, still smiling.
Dave and I walk around the cabin, stopping at each bunk to offer a high five and make sure each camper is all set. Once we’ve both gotten to all eight boys, Dave stands by the cabin door.
“Goodnight, boys. Sweet dreams,” he says. “If you need anything, wake one of us up. It doesn’t matter even if it’s the middle of the night, okay? If we’re not in our beds, look for one of us right outside the cabin. Goodnight!”
Dave flips the light off, leaving just the soft glow of a nightlight that he somehow knew to bring, and the two of us step out of the cabin.
“Well. Solid first day, huh?” he says after shutting the door with a grin.
I’m almost too tired to respond, but I manage to nod my head.
“Only one counselor needs to stay close by for the campers, so one of us can go hang out with other staff in the dining hall until curfew. You want me to hang out here tonight so you can socialize?”
I ignore the mention of curfew, because there’s no way I’m abiding by that. But also, there are more important things to focus on. Like the fact that Becca might be down at the dining hall, too.
And I don’t want to miss my chance to spend time with her.