Camp (12 page)

“Okay, you guys,” Erin said as we settled in a circle on the dank floor. “First we need a secret word.”

“What for?” Paula asked.

“For when we’re at the social,” Erin explained, “which is when I think we should get Rory in trouble. We say the word, and bingo, we get her.”

An eye for an eye. Hammurabi was right. So what if Rory’s father would abuse her? I couldn’t keep letting her get me. Camp was a jungle; I’d play by the law. Eat or be eaten. “Think about what Rory does,” I said.

“Mean things.”

“Sexy things.”

“Right.” I enjoyed the limelight for a change, enjoyed ignoring my mother’s
two wrongs don’t make a right
mantra. “And when Rory does those things,” I continued, “she roars.”

“That’s great, Ame.” Erin picked up my thought. “She roars like a—”

“Lion!” we shouted.

“Holy moly! That’s it,” Erin said. “Lion. Our secret word, the code for our plan. Now let’s work on it.”

Paula spoke first. “All we have to do is arrange for Mr. Becker to find Rory doing something wrong, something bad enough to get her kicked out.”

“That shouldn’t be hard,” Donnie said. “Rory does bad things all the time. We just have to figure out how to get her to do it when Mr. Becker’s around.”

“Do
it
?” Karen said.

Fran snickered. “
It
, as in sex?”

I didn’t understand this focus on sex. I expected that from Rory’s gang, but not from mine. Yet even Erin grinned. “Now we’re cooking,” she said, pulling the rubber bands from her hair. “So here’s the deal. The Saginaw social will be in The Lodge. What if we get Rory to sneak upstairs with a boy? Then we’ll get Mr. Becker to find her there doing something naughty.”

“Doing
it
?”

“Having sex?”

“Well, she doesn’t have to go all the way,” Erin explained. “Just has to have her shirt open or something with a boy in a room where she’s not supposed to be.”

“And how do we arrange that?” Paula asked.

“Well, we could tell Rory we’re sorry we haven’t been getting along better, and—”

“Or maybe I could tell her I’m sorry I got her in trouble in the dining hall over that stupid piece of cake,” Donnie said. “I could say I’m making it up to her by arranging a little privacy for her and the boy of her choice.”

“A piece for a piece,” Karen added. “That’s great.”

Fran elbowed her. “That’s disgusting!”

I couldn’t admit I didn’t fully understand what they were saying. If the girls found out how little I knew about this type of stuff, they might not want me in their group. I heard my mother’s voice again:
You don’t know anything, Amy. Nothing.
I realized she was right. I didn’t know anything. And if I admitted it, I’d have no one.

“It’ll never work,” Paula said. “First, we won’t be able to get Rory upstairs without anyone seeing. And second, even if we do, how’re we gonna get Mr. Becker up there to find her?”

If I helped with the plan, they would like me even better. If I helped with the plan, they wouldn’t know how stupid I was. I blurted out a better idea. “Maybe we could get Rory to go outside with a boy while we block the door so no one sees them leave, and then we could tell Uncle Ed we hear noises or something. Get him to go out and find them.”

“Ame, you’re brilliant,” Erin said. “So Operation Lion, ready to go. Amy and I can work out the details. The rest of you will just block the door when we say the word. So … the bell’s gonna ring soon. You guys go back to senior camp while Amy and I finalize the plan. And remember: top secret.”

“No problem.” Donnie spoke for all of us. “The lion is caged.”

“Not to worry,” Erin told me after the others left, closing the door behind them. “You and me, Ame. We’ll make it work. Pretty soon Rory will have roared her last roar.”

Erin put a hand on my shoulder as we moseyed toward the door. It opened before we got there. “Well, look who’s here, Ed,” Patsy purred. “Mr. Becker and I were just takin’ a little walk, and we thought we saw some gals headin’ out from here. So what are y’all doin’ in the boathouse?”

“Nothing. Just goofing off,” Erin answered.

Uncle Ed’s eyes fixed on mine. “This boathouse is off-limits, Amy. I don’t expect to see you here again. And by the way, I just spoke to your father. He says there hasn’t been much mail from you. So I suggest you use rest hour for letter-writing from now on. That’s the least you could do for your parents and your brother.”

Chapter 9

It’s Just a Package

R
ory pulled a note from our mail folder. “Well, lookie here. It says there’s a package for Amy.” She held the paper high in the air. “Wonder what Mommy and Daddy sent their precious little girl.”

I knew what it was—certainly not a care package from my mother. I had asked Dad to send my light blue Bermudas with my blue and white shirt, and my navy pedal pushers with the madras top I had begged my mother to buy for my birthday last fall. I’d heard Rory and Jessica planning their outfits for the Saginaw social as if choosing from a closet of possibilities. All I had were my green camp shorts and Takawanda shirts. And though Erin had told me not to worry—I could borrow something from her—I wanted my own clothes.

“Ease up, Rory,” Donnie said. “Just give us the package slip.”

“
Us
? You and Amy are an
us
now? Well, la-de-da. Always figured you had better taste, Donnie-girl.”

“Just give it to them,” Fran muttered.

“Oh, stuff it.” Rory wouldn’t quit.

“You don’t need that paper, Amy,” Karen said. “Just go to the gatehouse and tell them you’re picking up a package. No one’ll ask for a slip.”

“Is that so?” Rory still held the paper as she approached my bed. “Well, what if I told you, Amy Becker, that they won’t give you your package without this ticket? The rules are different this year, girls: no tickie, no washie. Catch my drift?” Rory waved the paper like a flag. “And look who’s got the slip.”

“Not anymore you don’t.” Donnie moved behind Rory and swiped the form, then raced outside. “Amy, meet me in Bunk 10,” she called from the stoop.

Rory leaned forward, hands braced on my bed. Her eyes gripped mine. I looked down.

“What’s the matter? Never had a staring contest?”

My vocal cords stuck.

“Ah, cat got your tongue again, I see. Well, I’ve got ways to make you talk, Amy Becker. After your friends leave, that is.” Rory relaxed her hold on my bed and turned toward Fran and Karen. “Time for you to fly the coop so Amy and I can have a private little powwow.”

“Yeah,” Jessica said, “a powwow with someone who won’t even talk. You’re a riot, Rory.”

“Shut your trap, Jess. You’re starting to get on my nerves.” Rory looked at Fran and Karen. “And you two, didn’t you hear me? Or are you both deaf? It’s no wonder you side with Amy: You’re deaf and she’s mute. What a bunch of retards in this cabin.”

My stomach twisted like a washcloth. If my getting a package was enough to force Rory’s rage, there was nothing I could control. Who knew what she would do to me if Fran and Karen left? “You didn’t cooperate during your initiation, Amy Becker,” Rory had whispered several times. Now I needed the other girls to protect me.
Don’t go. Please don’t go.

They stayed on their beds as if they heard my silent plea.

“What’s the matter with you two?” Rory asked. “I told you to get out.”

Fran and Karen didn’t move.

“Well then, just remember: You cross me now, I’ll cross you later. So get the hell outta here. Go!”

The lion had roared. Fran and Karen bolted from the cabin. Rory leaned forward again, tightening her hands on my bed. “So finally, Amy Becker, it’s just us. Just you and me and Jess. And you’ve got a choice to make. You either listen to your so-called friends, who don’t know squat about anything, or you listen to me. So which is it? Me or them?”

My voice still wouldn’t come.

“Jesus, girl. I said you’ve got a choice to make. So make it already. I’m not gonna waste all rest hour waiting for you to wise up.”

Donnie saved me when she opened the door. “Give her a break, Rory. It’s just a package. What’s the big deal?” Donnie paused for a second, expecting an answer that didn't come. Then she summoned me from the doorway. “Let’s go, Amy. I’ll walk you to the gatehouse.”

“Time to choose,” Rory said again, her face too close, the tuna salad from lunch heavy on her breath.

Fear pressed on my chest. I pulled in air as I closed my notepad on the beginning of a letter to Charlie, the first in days. “I’m coming, Donnie.”

“Wrong choice, you little twerp,” Rory sneered.

I jumped into my sneakers, not stopping to tie them, and ran from the cabin.

Not a word about Charlie, except my father’s letdown in my not having written to him more. It wasn’t only my mother I had disappointed. It was my father now. And Charlie too.

I stashed the red dress and party shoes in the bottom of my trunk, where I kept the extra bath towels my mother had insisted I bring. “See, Ed knows nothing about running a camp,” she had said as we packed. “They should have put more towels on this list. What if the laundry loses one of yours, and the other one’s wet? Then what?”

As I hid the “appropriate outfit” in my trunk, my mother perched on my shoulder again.
You’re not going to wear the dress, Amy? Then you’ll find out the hard way that boys like girls who look like ladies.

“Not to worry,” Erin said the next day as we walked toward Nancy’s cabin during rest hour—even though I knew I should be writing to Charlie. “I told you, you can borrow anything you want. And anyhow, what we wear doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters is the plan. And I think
Lion
’s gonna work. It’ll be a cold day in hell when Rory hurts us again.” Erin draped her arm around me. “And just think what fun we’ll have once she’s gone.”

By the time we got to Nancy’s, Erin had convinced me. Camp without Rory. I couldn’t help smiling.

“You look like the cat that swallowed the canary,” Nancy called from in front of her cabin. “Let me in on it, ladies. What’s the good news?”

“Nothing, Nance,” Erin answered. “You know, girl talk. Nothing special.”

“Oh, come on. Tell me.” Nancy motioned us in.

“We can’t,” Erin said with a grin. “It’s a secret. Right, Amy?”

I nodded.

“Well, okay. It’s just good to see you two having fun. That’s what camp’s all about: fun and friendship. Secrets too, I suppose.” She sat between us on her bed and went on. “I’m just glad there hasn’t been any more trouble. But if there ever is, I want you to come to me right away.” She paused, maybe trying to guess our secret. “And don’t even think about doing anything silly, like getting back at Rory. Though I know you two would never hurt anyone, even if she deserves it. Erin Hollander and Amy Becker, the nicest seniors in Takawanda history.”

Erin and I inched to the very edge of the bed and glanced at each other. This time neither of us smiled. Was Erin thinking the same thing I was: that maybe we should backpedal on our plan to get Rory?

Before the bell rang, Nancy walked us out, arms around us. My stomach flipped. I knew I didn’t merit this affection, Nancy’s confidence in my judgment and the trust in her eyes.