Patiently Alice (10 page)

“Latisha?” I called over the rush of the water. “Latisha?” I called up at the high open window above.

No answer.

“I’ll go,” I told Gwen. Quickly retracing my
steps to the cabin, I half expected to find Latisha sitting defiantly on her bunk, refusing to shower with the rest of the girls. But the cabin was empty.

I immediately headed for the dining hall and the office. Connie was standing in the doorway talking to Richard and his dad.

“I can’t find Latisha,” I said breathlessly, my hair damp on my forehead. I told them how long we thought she’d been missing.

A missing camper at Camp Overlook is a red alert. Jack immediately set out for the overlook with a search lantern and gave another to Richard and me, instructing us to go to the river. Connie said she would check the cabins one by one and get more counselors searching if we didn’t find Latisha right away.

“I’m scared,” I confided to Richard as we headed down to the river. “I just can’t see how she could slip away like that. I’m sure she was with us before we left for the showers.” My voice was shaking.

“She upset about anything?” Richard asked. He’s tall and lanky, very much like his dad. Probably got the longest neck of any boy I ever knew.

“Latisha’s always upset about something. Her nose has been out of joint ever since we went into town the other night and someone else was in
charge of our cabin. Then she was punished for knocking Ruby’s glass on the floor in the dining hall. All you have to do is look at Latisha cross-eyed and she’s mad.”

“Well, we always check the river and the overlook first,” Richard said. “We’ve found that the kids usually go to someplace familiar. She’s not likely to go off in the woods by herself, but you never know. My guess is that she’s hiding out in someone’s cabin. It’s too scary to go very far alone. Unless…” He stopped.

“Unless what?”

“Oh… unless she’s suicidal or something, which I doubt.” He grabbed my hand in the darkness because the path was rough, but I’m sure he knew that my heart was in my mouth. The lanterns they use at night in camp are really strong, and we could make out the riverfront even before we got there.

“No matter what I do for her, it’s never enough,” I said, my words coming fast. “And punishing her the other night must have seemed like proof positive that we don’t like her.”

“We’ve got a kid like that in our cabin,” Richard said. “Kids who grow up without love—well, they can’t get enough, you know? Sometimes I think every kid should have a dog. A dog’ll love you no matter what.”

We walked along the riverbank, up and down, but there was no sign of Latisha, either sitting under a tree or floating in the water. That much, I guess, was fortunate.

“If anything’s happened to her…,” I said, feeling more and more responsible. Then, “You don’t think someone would come into camp and kidnap her, do you? Grab one of the kids?”

“Very unlikely,” Richard said, and gripped my hand all the harder.

When we got back to camp, Connie hadn’t found Latisha either, and the whole camp went on a “missing person alert.” The outdoor lights came on, and all the children were instructed to stay on their bunks and be accounted for. Every full counselor and assistant counselor was given an area to check.

Gwen and I searched the picnic area.

“Do you think she’s trying to walk back home?” I asked finally.

“Don’t go off the deep end, Alice,” Gwen said. “She’s as clever as she is angry. We’ll find her.” We’d been looking now for twenty minutes, however, and no one had found her yet. We went back to our cabin more frightened than ever.

And then Mary and Josephine had to go to the bathroom, and they were the ones who made the discovery.

“Latisha!” the girls bellowed together, and Gwen and I came running.

Josephine would use only the stall that didn’t have a lock on it because she was afraid she might not be able to get out. When she’d swung the door open, she told us, there was Latisha, standing up on the toilet seat, hidden behind the door.
We
could have looked,
should
have looked, not just taken a cursory glance under each door, looking for feet.

All I could do was put my arms around Latisha and hug her to me. I didn’t have any voice to scold. And strangely enough, this time Latisha hugged back.

The next morning dawned dark and gloomy, and we had crafts in the big dining hall, while rain pattered down outside, spilling out the rainspouts and drumming on the roof. All the doors and windows were open, so the humid air brought with it the faint odor of mustiness and mildew, typical summer camp. The kids were working on making little baskets out of twigs, which they could then fill with small treasures found here at Overlook—pine cones and such—and take them with them when they left for home.

Mary had told me that Josephine was sick, so I’d taken her to the camp nurse, but it turned out that her temperature was normal, and the sickness seemed to be a figment of Mary’s imagination. When I got Josephine back to the dining hall, Gwen had a second project in progress.

One of the tables was covered with newspaper,
and Gwen had about six different colors of paint in little containers in the center of the table. They were various shades of white, brown, black, yellow, orange, and red.

Each girl, Gwen said, was to take some of the paint and put it on her saucer. She was to keep mixing different colors until she matched the color of her own skin.

“Huh?” said Estelle. “I’m white. You’re black.”

“Really?” said Gwen, sitting down beside her. “Let’s see.”

Gwen put some black paint on her saucer, then smeared some on her arm. There was a great contrast between the pecan brown color of her skin and the paint.

“Now let’s try you,” she said, and put white on Estelle’s saucer. Estelle smeared white on her arm, and of course it didn’t match at all.

The Coyotes were engrossed in the project, and each began experimenting. Latisha and Ruby started out with brown paint, but it was much too dark. Mary and Josephine and Estelle started out with white paint, and it was much too white. Kim, strangely, chose orange as her color, but it didn’t match any better than the others. Just to be different, I took red.

“You look like a ghost!” Latisha said to Estelle.

Silently, Estelle mixed some yellow into the
white paint on her saucer, then tried that on her arm. No match.

“You’ve gotta add some of
that
!” Kim said, pointing to the brown. Estelle mixed in a bit of brown. Better. She mixed in some more. Better still.

“Hey, look! I’m an Indian!” said Mary, making red stripes on her arm.

Several kids from a nearby table came over to watch. I looked at Gwen in admiration. She hadn’t said a word. She had merely put out the paints, and every girl at the table learned that each of us is made up of a lot of different colors.

Connie was impressed. “Did you think this one up on your own, Gwen?” she asked.

“No. It’s a project we did at summer Bible school,” said Gwen.

“Well, I’m going to remember this one with my next load of campers,” Connie told her. “I’m glad you’re on board, Gwen.”

So was I.

We lost the war with Latisha, though. Because lunch was served buffet style, everyone helped himself, and by evening we were back to our usual dinner routine, one runner serving the whole table, Latisha included. Gwen and I were too tired to carry it further. We knew we hadn’t handled it well, but we didn’t want her disappearing again.

“We can’t win them all, and we can’t reach them
all, either,” Gwen told me. “If we do a good job with the others, we’ll just have to accept that five out of six isn’t bad.”

A farm nearby allowed Camp Overlook to bring the children over a few times each summer to ride horses. So we marched the kids over there Wednesday afternoon, hiking across a high, breezy pasture, the campers exclaiming and jumping over cow pies, but I was surprised at the number who declared they’d never get on a horse. What surprised me even more was my own reluctance.

I’d never been on horseback, never been on a farm, really. Horses were something I saw from a distance. But suddenly here we were, standing at a fence, as six or seven horses were led out of a barn and saddled up. Richard rode one over to the fence and it seemed far larger than I had expected. When it rolled its eyes and snorted and chomped down on the bit, Josie gave a cry and dived behind my legs, and even Latisha vowed she wouldn’t ride.

Connie walked alongside the horse as it moved down the line of campers. She told them its name—Soldier—and held up some of the braver children to stroke its side, but all it took was a toss of the head from Soldier and the kids cowered again. Only a dozen or so said they were willing to get on.

“It doesn’t matter if you’ve never been on a horse,” said Connie to the kids. She looked around at the assistant counselors. “Where’s an assistant counselor who has never been on a horse. Doris? Tommie?”

I raised my hand, thinking I would be in the majority, and was suddenly horrified to discover I was the only one. No! They had to be lying! How could it be that I’d reached the age of fifteen and was the only one here who hadn’t been on horseback? I quickly lowered my hand. Did ponies count? Ponies at a fairground? But I wasn’t even sure I’d done that. A merry-go-round! Yes! I’d ridden a merry-go-round!

But then I heard Connie say, “Okay, Alice. Come right in here. We’re going to start you out with Richard.” I shrank back, shaking my head, and then I heard Estelle say, “Just tell her you’re not gonna do it, Alice. You don’t have to!” And then I knew I had to.

The farmer opened the gate so I could get through. I was trying to smile and swallow at the same time. He walked me over to Soldier, who lifted one hoof impatiently and put it down again with another toss of his head. What if he bit me? What if he kicked?

“The kids will feel safer if they can ride along with someone,” Connie said, “so we’re going to
put you up there with Richard and show them how it’s done.”

Richard smiled down at me and moved back a little in the saddle. He slipped one foot out of the stirrup so I could use it to hoist myself up.

“Here you go,” the farmer said, and I awkwardly swung my other leg over the horse, almost hitting Richard in the chest. Then I was in the saddle in front of him, and his arms were on either side of me, holding the reins.

“Just relax,” Richard said as we moved forward. “He’s really very gentle.”

Connie was giving instructions, explaining how you tell a horse to go, to stop, to turn, to trot. I focused on Soldier’s ears, the way they raised, then flattened, then twitched, as though he could understand everything we said.
How do you tell a horse that you’re scared half out of your mind? To be merciful?

Just as I was getting used to the feel of the horse beneath me, the heat of its body soaking into my thighs and calves, I could feel Richard make some slight movement and Soldier began to trot.

“Oh!” I said, startled.

“It’s okay,” Richard said into my hair. “Just hold on to the saddle.”

But my fingers dug into his thighs like claws, and I was afraid to let go. My spine felt so stiff
against Richard’s chest, I was afraid I’d push him backward, but I couldn’t help myself.

“Trust me,” came his voice. It was all that was left to do. I held on as we went once around the paddock, and then the horse slowed to a walk, and it was someone else’s turn to feel their insides turn to jelly. Richard brought Soldier to the gate again, and I slid off. Other campers stepped forward, and other horses were put into use.

“You did good, Alice!” Ruby said.

“Yeah! I thought he was going to buck!” said Mary.

“Was it fun?” asked Latisha.

“It was an adventure,” I said, perspiration trickling down from my armpits.

“Well, maybe I’ll go next week,” Latisha told us.

We were coming back from the baseball diamond on Friday when I saw Lester outside the office, talking with Connie, hands in his pockets. Actually, Pamela saw him first.

“Studly!” she cried. That’s what Pamela calls every guy who looks sexy to her.

Actually, he looked as though he’d been digging ditches, because he was windblown and sweat-stained. Handsome, nonetheless.

“Gwen, can you take over for me?” I asked.

“Tell him to stick around so we can see him too,” said Pamela.

Lester pulled one hand out of his jeans’ pocket and waved when he saw us, smiling at me as I crossed the clearing, Kim sticking to my side.

“Who’s that? Your boyfriend?” Estelle asked.

“My brother,” I said.

Latisha gave a little whistle. “He good-looking, all right,” she said, making Mary and Ruby laugh.

“This is a surprise!” I told Lester as Connie smiled and went back in the office, but my pulse was speeding up. Why had he driven all the way up here? Why hadn’t he just called? There must have been something about my face that told him how anxious I was, because Lester held up one hand to stop me. “Hey! Nobody died,” he said, which only told me that
something
had happened.

Gwen herded the Coyotes on by, practically peeling Kim away from me, and Pamela and Elizabeth took their own girls into the dining hall for their afternoon popcorn and lemonade.

I gave Lester a hug but studied his eyes when I backed off. “So?” I said.

“Relax, will you? I’ve been mountain biking. Met some buddies up here yesterday, and we rented a cabin and some bikes. Figured I was so close, I might as well drop by the camp and check it out on the way home.”

“Spy on me, you mean.” I laughed, steering him
over to a bench under an oak tree. I fanned myself with the hem of my T-shirt. “We just finished a baseball game. Let me cool off, and then I’ll show you around. So what’s happening back home?”

“Well, there
is
a bit of disappointing news. Sylvia…”

I stopped fanning.
“What?”

“Sylvia…”

“She
didn’t
! She broke their engagement?”

“No, Al!”

“She’s been in an accident?”