I'm Just, Like, Doing My Part
The following is a snippet from a 3,680 word story. The full story is located at:
http://www.mentallyincontinent.com/modules.php?name=News&file=article&sid=162
[snip]
I called Rebekah to arrange a time to meet to drive up to the camp. “Oh, my friend Amy is going to drive me, isn’t that, like, great??? It will save me SO much money on gas. But we can meet up once you get there on the bus! So, like, I’ll see ya, buhbyeeeee!”
Humph. OH well, her friend Amy could have her for the ride up. I had the entire summer to spend with her.
The bus for Camp Shady Woods left at 4:00 AM. I was exhausted, having stayed up until 2 that morning packing my stuff. I tried to get a little sleep on the bus - it was impossible. For the entire 14-and-a-half hour ride into Virginia, I dreamed of lazy summer evenings spent braiding wildflowers into Rebekah’s springy locks and reading her the lame poetry that I had penned in-between rest stops on our little bus ride to the camp. We would make up cute little nicknames for one another - She would be ‘Bekah-boo’ and I would be ‘Sparky’ - and we would accidentally find one another alone in the woods during our many hikes with the kids, stealing kisses and sharing knowing grins from one another all summer long. Perhaps I would pick up playing the guitar from one of the other counselors there and would serenade her in the evenings with spongy ballads about stars and streams.
The bus pulled into the camp around 7:00 PM, and we all filed out of the bus and into line for our camp assignments. I looked around for Rebekah - she was in the Lower Camp line. I rushed up to her and greeted her with a huge smile.
”Oh, HI! It is, like, SO good to see you!” She introduced me to Amy, who used twice as many ‘like’-s as Rebekah and drug her ‘so’-s out twice as long. We made general banter as the line progressed, and when we finally got up to the table, I followed Rebekah’s lead and signed up for “Pioneer 1” - the tent-and-bag camp. This would require us to find a camping buddy and share a tent - I knew exactly who mine was going to be. We smiled at one another, and just as I was imagining what her hair was going to look like with small purple violets in it, I heard someone beckoning for “That large fellah over there! You! Yes YOU!”
Her name was Madge. She was a blue-haired woman in her late 50’s and she apparently ran another camp on site. She spoke as if her breakfast every day for the past 40 years consisted of a cigarette and a Diet Pepsi - and smelled that way as well.
“You, young fellah… We really need you for one of our other camps - Camp Sparrowwood. One of the male counselors just backed out and we need someone capable of lifting and moving things fairly well… you look like you can handle it! The kids of Sparrowwood have ‘special needs’ and really need your help… Whadda ya’ say?”
I looked at Rebekah. She returned a look that let me know under no uncertain terms that the whole goal of volunteering here was to, like, help other people. I knew that if I refused, absolutely any favor I had won by volunteering here would fly right out of the window. So, I did what any horny 20 year old in my position would do - I buckled.
“Oh, you have just MADE my day!” Mabel exclaimed. The words sounded like they were drug across gravel as they made their way out of her cancer-ridden throat. At that moment, I wanted to teach her a few other uses for crochet needles and wood-burning irons. However, I knew that that probably wouldn’t win any points with the lovely Rebekah, who was now gripping my waist like I was about to be sucked away by a tornado.
”You are, like, the greatest guy! I am so glad I met you! Ok, see ya! Buh-byeeee!”
I followed Madge to her very weathered cabin to get my name tag and directions to the campsite. “I would hike up there with ya, but these old hips are liable to break just walking up that first hill!”
Bitch.
I made the two-and-a-half mile uphill trot over to the main Sparrowwood building with my backpack on my back and my duffel in tow, swapped between my left and right hands whenever one would seize up from holding it too long. Just as I arrived at the building, I saw Madge drive up in her beat up Plymouth Duster. I just stared at her as she exited the vehicle, coughing and hocking up phlegm all the while. “Oh, honey,” she said raspily, “I would have given you a ride, but you need to know how to get back to the other camp in case of an emergency.”
”Wouldn’t we just take your car in the event of an emergency?”
”Hmm.. I guess we would. Still, you needed to know. Besides, you’re young! You need the exercise! HA!”
I ground my teeth in an attempt to keep from lobbing my 50-lb duffle bag at her head. ‘This will make me a better person… This will make me a better person…’
I made my way to the front entrance to Sparrowwood and opened the main doors. I was greeted with the most vicious shriek I had ever heard in my life as a young girl with Down’s Syndrome raced past me holding one end of a roll of toilet paper and a female counselor trotted along after her, collecting the white stream of cottony softness as it was led out of the main doors and through the driveway.
“Could you help me, PLEASE?” came a cry from the frantic counselor.
I dropped my bag and ran behind the young girl, beckoning her to stop. “Natalie!” I heard from behind me.
”What??”
”Natalie. Her name is Natalie.”
I chased after Natalie, begging her to stop so I could take her back indoors. All I could hear in return were giggles and the word “NO!” shouted only as an exited little girl can shout it.
This went on for about 2 minutes, until I got a brilliant idea.
”Natalie, do you like OREOS?”
Natalie froze in her tracks and turned around.
”Yah, I like Oreos! They are yummy!”
”Well, if you will follow me inside, I will give you an Oreo! How does that sound?”
She trotted right up to me and grinned. “Ok, Mister! Let’s go get my cookies!”
I followed Natalie inside, stopping to pick up my bags. I saw the female counselor from earlier standing there, smiling.
[snip]
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