Chapter 6
After breakfast Abby and I walked into arts & crafts. “You can barely smell the essence of mildew over the aroma of coffee,” I said.
“Help yourself,” Maggie said.
“Go figure, your dirty-water coffee is much better than the sludge in the dining hall,” Abby said.
The orientation schedule lay open on the table. “So, what’s up for today?” I asked.
Abby pointed to an item in bold. “10:15—Spend time getting to know your counselors.”
My stomach flipped. “Are you as nervous about meeting the counselors as I am?”
“I hadn’t really thought about it,” Abby said.
“Really? What if we don’t get along?”
“I used to get nervous meeting new students, but after twenty years, I don’t even think about it anymore,” Abby said.
“Lori, you’re looking at it all wrong. You’re in charge,” Maggie said. “The counselors should be concerned about you not liking them. Trust me, if you go in with that attitude, everything will fall into place.”
I glanced at my watch. “It shouldn’t be a problem to change my entire outlook on life in, what, the next hour?”
“Come on, can you seriously be worried about what a bunch of teenagers think of you?” Maggie asked.
“It’s more about, well, what if I suck at my job, and the counselors undermine me, and the campers take advantage of my lack of experience? Kids can smell fear, you know.”
“You can handle this. Stop worrying,” Abby said.
“Can I come to you for advice?”
“That’s a given.” Maggie smiled. “If I can’t help, you can always go to Bethany, she’s a lifer.”
“What’s a lifer?”
“Someone who went to camp here and never left.”
Abby looked up from the schedule and said, “I’m surprised by how many adults can take off the entire summer to work at a sleepaway camp.”
“Speaking about adults who work at camp, is it just me or are you guys having trouble keeping up with not only names but what each person does?” I asked.
“Yes, that’s why Roger and I stayed up last night and made a flow chart listing names, titles, and who does what. Let me get it for you.”
As she walked across the room I asked, “Am I the only one feeling overwhelmed?”
“And the campers aren’t even here yet,” Abby said.
Maggie placed the diagram in front of us. “We’re smart. We’ll figure it out together.”
I ran my finger down her handiwork.
I laughed. “We’re three rungs below Jack and Marilyn and only two rungs above the campers.”
Maggie was looking over my shoulder. “Yup.”
I went to the office to check for messages and smiled when I saw a bright blue envelope in my cubby—my first ever camp letter!
Leave it to Claire to think of sending me mail.
She was one of those people who knew everything but wasn’t a know-it-all—my go-to person when I needed guidance.
I had called her to help me find a camp to send the girls to because she loved sleepaway camp.
It was due to our research that I ended up at Woodlands.
We had met for lunch the day before I drove off to my summer adventure. She handed me a gift bag.
“I bought you something you might need while you’re away.”
“You didn’t have to do that.”
She smiled. “I thought it was one of those things that you may not have thought of and would be difficult to buy when you’re stuck at camp.”
I couldn’t imagine what it was. As I unwrapped the tissue paper, I felt my cheeks blush and laughed. It was a vibrator.
“Take it out of the box,” she said.
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
I pulled it out and saw my name written on the shaft in purple block letters.
“I didn’t want yours to get confused with anyone else’s.”
In my mail cubby, there was also a message from the mother of one of the Cubs.
At every meeting, it had been instilled in us that we provided a service, and a message from a parent needed to be answered ASAP.
I dutifully took out the three-ring binder that contained the names of the counselors and campers, their photos, and information like allergies, parent names, and every possible number to reach them.
I sat down and opened the tab for cabin one. There was a photo of Chloe Martin. I dialed her mother.
“Hello, this is Lori Kramer from Camp Woodlands. I’ll be Chloe’s division leader this summer.”
“Oh good. I accidentally forgot to tell you something important about my daughter. Since her father and I split, Chloe’s been wetting her bed. When she’s home with me, she’s fine, but at her dad’s, well, that’s when it happens.”
My first thought was, Poor Chloe. Then I wondered who was responsible for cleaning up after her. “Can you send her up with extra sheets in case she continues to wet her bed . . . and maybe some extra underwear?”
“Good idea. I’ll throw in a mattress liner also. I know she’s excited about camp, but she’s probably nervous too. Hopefully, if she’s happy and comfortable, she’ll be able to control her bladder.”
“Don’t worry, we’ll take good care of Chloe.”
I made a few more calls to parents who had “accidentally” forgotten to tell me things about their kids. I hoped the counselors would be easier to deal with.
Walking through the gates of Girls Camp, I saw groups of young women sitting in front of the cabins they were assigned to. Thankfully, they had name badges. I put a smile on my face.
“Hey, Lori, come and join us.”
I remembered Amber because of her elaborate braids.
“Hi, I’m excited to work with you,” I said, joining the group.
I smiled at each expectant face and took a deep breath.
“I thought the best way to get to know each other is to tell something interesting about ourselves. You know, something you wouldn’t write on your résumé.
I’ll go first. My name is Lori and I’ve never been to sleepaway camp. ”
“How can you be a division leader if you’ve never been to camp?” Carrie asked.
Before I could answer, a girl with striking dimples jumped in.
“Hi, I’m Genie and I was a camper here for six years and I can tell you from experience that there’s nothing to it. If you have half a brain and can count, you can do this job.”
I raised my hand. “I qualify. Genie, since you’re a veteran, tell us about your experience at Woodlands.”
“Sure. Like I said, I was a camper and one of my goals was to come back as a counselor and lose my virginity here. I mean, I got my first period at camp, so I’m looking at it as, you know, another rite of passage.”
Huh, interesting insight. “Okay, well, I did ask for something you wouldn’t put on your résumé.”
Nervous giggles led to everyone wanting to share their stories.
“I’ve lost my virginity twice,” Jojo said.
“How can you lose it twice?” Genie asked.
“One time with a guy and then with a girl. I’m sticking with girls.”
I hadn’t thought about the night I lost mine in eons. “Well, I was eighteen . . .”
“What? Wait. Are you seriously going to tell us?” Genie asked.
“Isn’t that what we’re talking about?”
“Yeah, but you’re like old enough to be our mother,” Genie said.
I started laughing. “Let’s switch to camp-regulated topics.”
After the meeting, I fell into step with Genie. “I just wanted to say that if you need anything, I’m here for you.”
“Like what?”
“An ear or a shoulder. I want to make sure you’re okay. That you’re safe. Do you have condoms?”
Genie rolled her eyes. “Thanks, but you’re my boss, not my mother.”
I stopped short and watched her walk off.
She’d not only clarified her boundaries, but she had also made mine apparent.
I was their supervisor. Not mother. Not friend.
She also gave me a glimpse of what it would be like to have a teenager.
I was clearly unprepared for either role.
What made me think working at a sleepaway camp had been a good idea?
Bethany appeared at my side. “How’d your meeting go?”
“Okay, I guess. We somehow got on the subject of how they lost their virginity.”
Bethany gave me a wry smile and flipped through her clipboard. “Nope, I don’t see virginity listed as a recommended ice breaker.”
“Well, it was more interesting than finding out what they’d bring on a picnic.”
* Woodlands chart by Linda Kunesh