Harmony (17 page)

When Friday comes, and Scott announces Mother's Day again, I wonder if we're going to play Werewolf at all, after the whole problem with Kylie and Jason. But Scott takes us out into the woods, back to the campfire site, just like last week. This time, there's a table set up that Scott must have had some of the other grown-ups bring out, because he's still got his arm in a sling. I don't know what's on the table because it's covered with a sheet, but it's all lumpy, so I know there's something under there.

“Before we begin,” Scott says. “We all know there's no such thing as monsters, right?”

We do.

“And we all know that there's nothing scary or dangerous out here in the woods, right?”

We do again. “Good. So remember that. Whatever happens out here, it's all made up, and it's all a game.”

And then he starts it up, the same way he did last week: “We're going to play a game called Werewolf. And the best thing about Werewolf is that it's a different game each time you play, but it always
starts the very same way.” Last week, I wasn't sure if he was rhyming intentionally or just by accident. But now I know it's on purpose.

“Okay, those of you who were here last week, help me out.” His voice gets quiet. “
The Werewolf says you have to hide . . .”

And me and Candy, Ryan, and Tilly all chant, “
Are you on the Werewolf's side?
”

I check out the GC kids. Some of them seem like they're into it, but Kylie clearly thinks it's stupid, and Jason looks scared, even though not a single scary thing has happened.

“Now the thing about the Werewolf,” Scott says, “is that he doesn't like kids who know how to survive in the wilderness. Because those are the kids he can't catch. So each of you has to be as smart and wilderness-savvy as you can be, and build yourself a house where the Werewolf can't find you.”

I think that's supposed to be the educational/good-for-you aspect of the game, that we're learning things about staying safe in the woods. Whatever. That's not really the main part.

“Here are some building materials to help you out,” Scott says. He goes over to the table and starts to pull off the sheet with his good hand. He's having trouble with it, though, because the fabric keeps snagging on the things underneath.

“I can help,” I say. I go over and pull the sheet off with him. Underneath, there's all kinds of things: ropes and pointy metal posts, some random pieces of fabric, old couch cushions and pillows, even one of those dog-crate travel carriers, which is like a whole shelter in itself. This is awesome, and I can tell the other CF kids get it right away; Ryan says, “Whoa,” and Tilly yells out, “Yeah, that's the stuff.” We are definitely going to be able to build better forts this week than we did last week, when we could only use what we found on the ground.

“Welcome to the Building Store,” says Scott. “The trick is that the store is owned by the Werewolf. And if you want to buy any of
these materials for use in your structure, you have to gain the Werewolf's trust.”

“Can I be the Werewolf?” asks Ryan.

“The Werewolf doesn't like people talking out of turn, Ryan,” says Scott. He's smiling, so it doesn't sound mean or anything. “Just FYI. And no, I'm afraid not. I'm the Werewolf today.”

“Are you always going to be the Werewolf?” asks Tilly. “Oops, sorry, Mr. Werewolf. I didn't mean to talk out of turn.”

“Nice save,” says Scott. “And the answer is: that's for me to know and you to find out.”

A bunch of kids say, “Aww” and “That's not fair” and whatever. I'm not really disappointed, though. Being the Werewolf looks fun, but it's also complicated and kind of a lot of responsibility.

“Speaking out of turn puts you at the back of the line for the Building Store,” Scott says. Everyone quiets down.

“Now you have your goal, which is to build an awesome hideaway and stay safe. But the Werewolf has plans of his own: he wants to gain power. He wants to take over the town and turn it into a vast werewolf empire. So when he sells materials from his Building Store, he doesn't deal in money. He deals in secrets.”

“What do you . . .” says Tilly, then shuts up really quickly. She raises her hand and waits for Scott to call on her. Then she asks, “What do you mean by secrets?”

“Let's just start playing,” Scott says. “It'll all become clear. Okay . . .” He claps his hands twice and raises his voice. “Werewolf shop unlocks its doors—who's got a secret for the Building Store?”

Everyone runs over to the table to get in line. I end up fourth, right behind Tilly. Now that I'm closer to the table, I can see that all the items have numbers taped to them, like prices at a yard sale. All the numbers are between one and three.

Tilly turns around to talk to me. “What secrets are you going to use?”

I don't have anything in mind, but I decide it's a good strategy to pretend that I do. “I'm not telling you!” I say.

“Fine,” she says. “I'm not telling you mine, either.”

Candy's first in line, and Scott leads her over to a tree stump about ten feet away, where we can't hear them talking. I watch as she gets up on the stump and he leans closer so she can whisper in his ear. He nods and says something to her, then she whispers to him again. “Yes!” he yells. He gives her a high-five, and she runs over to the table and grabs the dog carrier.

“Aww,” Tilly says. “I wanted that.”

Next is a GC boy named Joey. He and Scott have their little tree stump conference, and he goes and picks out a sheet and a roll of duct tape.

“How come he got two?” Tilly asks.

“I think it has to do with the numbers on them,” I say. “I think they're prices.”

“Tilly and Iris,” Scott calls out. “Family discount. Come on over together.”

I'm not expecting that, and I'm not sure I like it—I just want to do my own thing, I don't want to be put on a team with Tilly or anyone else—but I walk over with her to where Scott is standing.

“You guys are lucky,” he tells us when we get there. “Werewolf special, today only. Most customers are exchanging three secrets for three merchandise points. But in the unlikely event that there are two sisters, standing next to each other in line, and one of them is wearing . . .” He pauses to look us over. “A green flowered top, they each get a chance to earn an extra point.”

“That's pretty specific,” Tilly says.

Scott shrugs. “The Werewolf wants what the Werewolf wants. So here's how this is going to work. You two are going to take turns whispering secrets in the Werewolf's ear. Neither of you gets to know what the other one is saying. But think hard about your secrets,
because whoever tells the best one gets four points instead of three, and that can make a big difference at the Building Store.”

“But I don't really get it,” I say. “What kind . . .”

“Uh uh uh,” says Scott, holding up a finger. “Gotta be fast; go with your gut. We're going to have three rounds. Round One: a secret about yourself. Make it true and make it good. Tilly first.” He points to the tree stump and she climbs up to whisper in his ear.

I don't know what she tells him, but he laughs out loud. “Good one,” he says. “Iris! You're up.”

Tilly and I switch places. Even on the tree stump, I'm not tall enough, so I stand on tiptoes. I lean right up to his ear and whisper, “Sometimes in the shower, I sing songs from
High School Musical
and pretend I'm one of the characters.”

Scott laughs, just like he did after Tilly's secret. “Awesome,” he says. “The Werewolf loves it. Round Two: a secret about each other. Tilly?”

This makes me nervous, but actually I don't think Tilly knows any of my secrets. Not that I have any major secrets, but you know. The ones I have I've never told her.

Still, she doesn't even take a minute to think about it. Just climbs up and whispers something right away.

“Really?” says Scott, looking at me. “I never would have guessed.” He and Tilly laugh.

“What did you say?” I ask.

“Can't tell you,” says Tilly.

Fine. My turn. The first one I think of seems too mean—it's about how Tilly told a boy in her class she had a crush on him, and he laughed at her—but then I think of a good one. “Okay,” I whisper. “One time, Tilly went to get her ears pierced, but after the first one, she was too afraid to go through with the second. So she just had one pierced ear until it finally closed up by itself.”

“You're kidding!” says Scott. “Wow!” He looks over at Tilly and
then back at me. “Okay, so far it's neck and neck, so make this last one good. Round Three: a secret about somebody else in your family.”

Tilly has to think about this one, but after she finally tells Scott, he says, “Wow. I think we may have a winner.” So I know I'd better come up with something big.

I climb up on the tree stump, then hesitate. “Nobody's going to get in trouble, are they?” I ask Scott, talking in a regular voice. “Because of the secrets?”

He smiles and shakes his head. “Nope. It's just a game. All in good fun.”

“Okay,” I say, and rise up on my toes. When I'm finished, Scott lifts my arm up above my head like I'm a boxer or wrestler or something. “Sorry, Tilly,” he says. “Our extra point goes to Iris.”

I walk away smiling. And the shelter I make, using a rope, a blanket, and a two-point laundry basket, turns out to be the best of anybody's.

 • • • 

The GCs leave on Saturday, and I don't think anyone's sad to see Kylie and Jason's family go. I'm hoping the next group will be better. We spend the afternoon cleaning up the guest cabins, and we have dinner, and then it's time for Saturday Campfire. We go out to the Harmony Circle with our flashlights, and the adults get the fire going. Scott gets up to talk; he looks tired, and his hair's all messy, which is really weird for him.

“So it's been a tough week,” he says. “We knew we'd have them, right? Nothing huge, just a few little things here and there, but it did make me stop and wonder why the heck we're doing all this.”

I know he's probably talking about the “monster in the woods” incident with Jason and Kylie, though I don't know about anything else bad that happened this week.

“And I've been thinking . . . well, I'm not sure where to start here. But I've been thinking about the difference between truth and honesty.”

He pauses and takes a sip from the water bottle he's holding.

“To do a job like this one, you have to know how to tell a story. Here's the story of how your life could be different if you let me help you. Here's the story of what I can do to make your struggles a little less difficult.”

He pauses again, and for a minute he looks like he's lost his train of thought.

“I don't offer guarantees; I don't do magic. I tell the story that you need to hear in the current moment, and I'm always one hundred percent honest, even if I'm not telling the one hundred percent truth. You know what I mean?”

“Scott,” says Janelle. Her voice is gentle, like when she talks to Hayden. “Have you been drinking?”

For a second I don't know what she means, like I don't realize she means
drinking
drinking. But then Scott laughs in a goofy way and sways a little without moving his feet, and I think she's probably right.

“Maybe a little,” Scott says. “Water bottle full of vodka. I heard somewhere that that's a good way to do it . . . It may be true that you're here because you want to be, but if you're not one hundred percent committed, and if you're not being honest with each other . . . wait a second, I had a point here.”

And then I get a little bit scared because I think this might be my fault. Because that was my winning secret, the one that got me the extra point for the Building Store: that my parents have alcohol hidden in our cabin, and that sometimes they drink it, even though they're not supposed to. And I mentioned Evian bottles specifically.

“I have reason to believe,” he says, and he's not looking anywhere near me, which is a relief, “that some of us have been playing a little
fast and loose with the rules, when it comes to contraband and so forth.” He shrugs. “I don't know. I'm not too hung up on the actual details. Do you get that? I don't care if you have a drink once in a while. It's just . . . it's about trust.”

“Maybe we should head back to camp,” my mom says.

Scott nods. “Yeah, in a minute. Just let me get this out, okay? I've never really had any kind of a family, not since I was young, anyway. And . . . just what are we doing here, you know? What are we to each other? Are we all on the same team? Are we . . . can we at least pretend to be some kind of a family?”

And then his face wrinkles up, and he goes to put his hand over his eyes, except he's got one arm in a sling and the other one is holding the bottle of alcohol. And I'm so afraid all of a sudden. I'm so afraid that he's going to cry and it's all because he's covering up for me. He's making sure I don't get in trouble.

“Okay, Scott,” says Tom. He's been holding Hayden, but he sets him down and walks over to Scott. Janelle follows, almost running, and pulls Scott into a hug.

“It's going to be okay,” I hear her say.

“I should go,” Scott says. His voice is all wobbly with tears. “I should leave camp. I don't deserve to be here, after acting like this.”

“Now that's not true,” Janelle says. She pats Scott on the back and then lets go of the hug, turning back to face the group. I notice the way that the group is divided now, with the three of them on one side of the campfire and the rest of us on the other, flames crackling and rising in between us.