Chapter 10
We stood on the dock shivering—the sun was shining, but the morning chill hadn’t burned off. I had passed my swim test during orientation, so I hadn’t bothered to wear a suit—the water would be freezing.
Lifeguards were asking the campers questions and placing them in four different swimming lanes partitioned by green and white buoys. I stood at the far end of the dock so I could give the girls encouragement without getting splashed.
Mike suddenly appeared by my side while I was cheering them on. The only item of clothing he wore was a kelly green Speedo. He blew his whistle next to my ear to get everyone’s attention. If his intention was to startle me, it worked.
“Okay Cubs, I know you’re all here to pass your swim test. One of the rules at the waterfront is that you always need to be prepared, that means wearing your bathing suit, that means all campers, all counselors, including division leaders.”
He turned toward me and put his hands on his hips, shaking his head in disgust that I’d broken his rule. Then he picked me up and threw me over his shoulder. I kicked and screamed but he held on tight.
“Watch what I do to people who come down to my waterfront unprepared.”
He unceremoniously tossed me into the lake.
When I surfaced the campers were elated, jumping, cheering, and laughing. I’m sure he expected profanities to be flung at him, but I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. Instead, I swam to the dock and reached my hand up to Mike, hoping to pull him in.
“Really, Lori, I’m no sucker. The ladder’s right there—help yourself.”
I was wearing my sneakers and hoodie, which made it difficult to climb the steps. But when I managed to maneuver myself onto the dock, I raised my arms in the air like Rocky on the steps of the Philadelphia Museum of Art and jumped around in circles.
Everyone was entertained. I even got a smirk and nod from Mike. He had unintentionally given me a gift. I now shared an inside joke with the Cubs.
Later that day, the Cubs had arts by the time she wrote and mailed it, at least five days would’ve passed.
Hopefully by then I’d have my act together and everything would be running smoothly, and this night would only be a minor blip.
When I returned with the correct Natalie, Bethany was waiting for me.
Ella took Natalie to one of the examining rooms to give her the injection.
“I heard you brought the wrong girl to get a shot,” Bethany said.
“News travels quickly here.”
Bethany was not amused. “You know, this isn’t a joking matter.”
“I’m aware of that.”
“Is that all you have to say for yourself?” she asked.
Feeling contrite I said, “I’m sorry it happened. I’ll be more careful in the future.”
“You must have really frightened Natalie Goodman. How’s she doing?”
“Natalie Goodman is getting her shot right now, but Natalie Grossman is relieved and accepted my apology.”
Bethany turned a deep shade of red. She looked at me and then down at her clipboard, flipping between the Cubs’ bunks.
“Now you can understand my mix-up.”
“Yes, I can see the problem. But please be more careful in the future.”
“Not for nothing, but neither Natalie is particularly short.”
The next night, I had my first crier, Leah from the other morning. The other girls ignored her, chatting or reading in their bunks.
“It’s okay, Leah. Do you want to talk about it?”
She looked up at me, turned her freckled face into her pillow, and continued to sob.
I kneeled on the floor so that our faces would be at the same level. “Leah, please, you need to stop crying.”
I picked her up and brought her outside. I guessed the shock of having me physically carry her surprised her because she stopped crying. She whimpered as we sat on the steps.
“Leah, I’m here to help you. Please tell me what you’re feeling.”
She hiccupped her response, “I miss, my, my, my mom.”
To my great relief Bethany walked by.
“Hi there . . .” Bethany started.
“Leah,” I said.
Bethany joined us on the stairs. “Of course, Leah. I saw you today on the tennis courts—you have a wicked serve. Maybe you and I can have a volley and you can give me some pointers. Would you like that?”
Leah nodded.
Part of me wanted to leave the two of them alone and tend to the other campers, making sure there weren’t any other crises. But it made sense to stay and learn how a pro handled a homesick child.
Bethany put her arm around Leah to comfort her. “Can you show me your bunk? If you want, I can tuck you in and rub your back until you fall asleep.”
Leah nodded yes.
After Bethany tucked Leah in, we walked to my next cabin.
“You’re getting off to a rough start,” she said. “Last night it was the Natalie mix-up, and tonight your first homesickness case.”
“I’m trying, but there’s a huge learning curve.”
“I’m here to help,” she said.
I understood that she needed me to succeed as much as I needed Jasmine to succeed.