Chapter 9

Aunt Sandra had driven Jesse back out to Rocky Bay that afternoon for the first real week of camp, and now she stood waiting in tense anticipation. Teens aged thirteen to fifteen would soon be arriving en masse. It was scary. Jesse physically recoiled just remembering her own teens cabin last year. There were always some cabins better than others; hers had been one of the others. It had not been an enjoyable experience, nor had it been one of her shining moments. It was the only week she’d ever had campers who honestly, truly hated her.
“Stop it!” she told herself severely, trying to shake the thought out of her head. The last thing she wanted to do right now was remember last year. She didn’t know why she did that, drudging up things she would rather forget. Some memories were better left repressed.
Hopefully no one would hate her this week. She could have good hope of that, at least. Since her responsibility was for the staff now, she wouldn’t be involved with the campers closely enough for them to hate her. She might have to discipline some, but as an outside authority figure only. She felt only a shred of guilt that this thought was such a welcome one.
She expected no difficulties with the staff themselves. Of course, there was Jasmine to consider, but she couldn’t believe the girl actually hated her. Her eavesdropping last week had shaken her a little, but as she reconsidered the conversation she’d overheard, she convinced herself that it was no more than idle gossip. Probably a simple misunderstanding. She just hoped it would work itself out, without her having to do any more explaining. The only thing she wanted to explain right now was where to find the nurse’s line.
And that’s what she did, repeatedly, over the next two hours. She went from cabin to cabin, making sure everyone was where they were supposed to be and guiding those who were lost. The first camper arrived an hour early, with a slow trickle arriving soon thereafter, and by four o’clock there was a steady stream of them. They came in droves, like huge luggage-toting wasps swarming the campgrounds, buzzing with excitement and ready to turn and sting you without warning. She recognized a lot of them, she realized. Teens Week drew a fairly loyal crowd of long-time campers, and the faces were familiar.
“Jesse!” she heard her name cried out.
She turned to see an auburn-haired, freckle-faced burst of sunshine flying at her. But no, the freckles were only in her imagination, she realized as she squealed with glee and opened her arms. “ Debbie!” she exclaimed. But this couldn’t be her Debbie; not this gangly thing with braces whose head reached up to Jesse’s nose when she hugged her.
Finally she held the girl at arm’s length. “What are you doing here?” she asked. “You’re not thirteen already?” she said in disbelief.
The girl laughed. “Oh come on, you didn’t forget how old your favourite camper was, did you?”
“Of course not,” she answered with mock seriousness, “my favourite camper is ten years old and a good six inches shorter than you. I’m afraid you couldn’t be her.” She called all her campers her “favourite camper”; but with Debbie she meant it, and Debbie knew it. She’d been her counsellor three years in a row already, and Debbie had attached herself to her from the first day. Jesse didn’t know what she’d done to earn such fierce loyalty, in fact she was certain she didn’t deserve it, but there it was. She loved all her campers, still this one held a special place in her heart. “Did you get my last letter?”
“Uh-huh,” Debbie nodded. “The day before yesterday. You’re really not a cabin leader any more?” she moaned dejectedly.
Then there were five more girls waving and calling to her. They came up all talking at once, full of stories from last summer, and talk of who else was here and who wasn’t, the cabins they were in, their cabin leaders this week, etc. Some lamented that they couldn’t be in a cabin with Jesse anymore, but most were too excited about their new counsellors to be very devastated. As it should be, Jesse thought to herself and smiled. In fact, she was having a hard time even putting names to some of the faces in front of her. Still, they brought back memories of a happy week, of talks and jokes and laughter she had almost forgotten about. For a few minutes she was sorry she had to be the head cabin leader. She would have enjoyed getting to know these girls again.
And then they were gone. Off to find more friends, to reacquaint themselves with the Ed’s Alley tables, to hang out on the basketball court. Even Debbie was drawn away, and Jesse was left to resume her role as head cabin leader. She headed to the last cabin she had to check on: Kaimi and Jasmine in Moose Canoe. Kaimi Wan was an old-timer, and as she was only working for two weeks this summer, she hadn’t come to Staff Orientation. Since Jasmine hadn’t seemed to make friends with any of the older girls, Jesse had assigned her to Kaimi and now just had to hope for the best. Kaimi could handle just about anything, and she’d be a good influence. Jesse was fairly certain it would work out.
As she neared Moose Canoe’s front steps, hands in her pockets, imagining how Jasmine and Kaimi would get along, the door of the cabin swung open. Two girls walked out onto the porch, smiling and talking loudly, dressed in baggy pants and tank tops which were not too well hidden by zip-up sweaters that were not zipped up. Recognition stopped her cold. Her pleasant day was ruined, she knew, as her stomach knotted in agonizing tension. Both were tall: the taller of the two was thin, her blond-streaked hair cut to her chin. The other was curvy, with dark hair pulled up in a ponytail. Their arms were linked and their sandals hurried in sync down the three stairs gracing the front of the cabin, before the shorter one, who was almost as tall as Jesse, saw her. She stopped mid-sentence and mid-stride, roughly halting the girl attached to her. Her confident, happy expression was immediately replaced with disbelief: her eyebrows went up, her mouth opened, and her glare seemed to say “what are you doing here?”. Her companion’s reaction was equally cool.
Despite their silent messages, the dark-haired one quickly gained control of her gaping mouth. “Oh hi, Jesse,” she said.
The taller girl echoed the greeting even more enthusiastically, although her eyes remained dull.
Mustering strength, Jesse met their tones. “Hello girls. Nice to see you again!” It came out before she had a chance to think about it, and as soon as she said it she realized her lie, but there was no time for remorse as she searched her mind for something to else to say. Carrie, she remembered; the tall one’s name was Carrie. She looked directly at her and with effort, plastered on a polite smile. “You look different, Carrie. Did you dye your hair?” she asked. “It looks so nice,” she said so sincerely that she almost believed herself. There was one more lie, she had to watch that.
Carrie cocked her head to the side slightly. “Um, yeah. I streaked it,” she answered hesitantly, suddenly unsure of herself. She looked at her companion apologetically. Carrie was the least malicious of the two, at least openly, and usually took her lead from her friend. Jesse speaking directly to her first was not something she was prepared for, and she hoped she hadn’t been too friendly.
But the shorter one didn’t so much as glance at her. Her scorn was reserved for Jesse, who obliged her with attention. She wasn’t sure of this one, so she took a chance. “Back for another year, Jodi?”
“It’s Marcy,” she replied, her tone drenched with contempt and insult.
“Oh, is it?” Jesse asked, lightly and only mildly apologetic. “I’m sorry. I’m so horrible with names.” She took a hesitant step forward, and slung her hands in her back pockets in an attempt to appear casual. “Is this your cabin?” she asked.
The girls nodded. “What cabin are you in this year?” Carrie asked innocently.
Jesse was finding it easier to keep smiling. “I’m head cabin leader this year. If you want to visit me you’ll have to come down to Ingleside.” She knew very well that was the last thing they wanted to do. They hated her.
She chuckled to herself as the two girls went on their way, certain, she knew, that she would somehow get her revenge on them for the way they had acted last year, and well they should. They had been two of the worst campers she’d ever had. They’d pushed her on everything: they balked at every rule, every restriction, every schedule; not just them, but about half of her cabin that ill-fated Teens Week. As the week progressed they got it into their heads that Jesse was solely responsible for every one of the undesirable aspects of camp, and took their anger out on her. Girls could be very cruel, and she’d felt it keenly. They’d ignored her so completely that not only could she not get through to them the message of God’s love, but she was reduced to continually handing out threats and punishments just to get them through the day. She had loved them as best she could, but she couldn’t bring herself to like them, and she had hated herself that week. They had been perfect little beasts, and she’d dreaded meeting up with them again, but more so because they represented her own failure as a cabin leader.
Now that she had seen them, they didn’t seem so horrible. As a cabin leader, she had always wanted her campers to love her, not just obey her. She felt if she were truly showing them Jesus’ love as she should, then they would respond with the same. If they didn’t love her, it meant Jesus’ love was not evident in her actions, and if they could not see Jesus in her then how could they ever love him? It was a hard way to go about it; Sunday afternoons were nerve-wracking experiences because she wanted to make a good first impression. It made her work harder, and she second-guessed herself on every word, every decision. It spent her physically, made her spiritually weary at times, and took a toll on her emotions in tears shed and unshed. She thought it was worth it for the joy of seeing the love in many of her campers grow, first for her and then for her Saviour. But when the love she poured out wasn’t returned, the pain of it was worse than it would have been otherwise. Some weeks her failure in the case of a single camper could reduce her to melancholy, though she tried not to show it outwardly. It was not only the grief of watching a soul turn from Christ, but also of personal rejection. By opening herself to them she made herself vulnerable, and their sting could be sharp should they turn on her.
But now, perhaps, she had been stung once too often; because she found that the scorn of her former campers was not only bearable, but emptied, somehow, of significance. They obviously didn’t hate her any less, but she no longer had the energy either to blame herself or to care to try and fix it. They seemed silly and laughable, these city girls puffed up with their own importance. Why were they back, anyway? Didn’t they know they were unwelcome? They certainly hadn’t enjoyed themselves last time.
However, as she stood on the porch and knocked on the door of Moose Canoe, she was reminded that she was not the one who had to deal with these girls this week, unless of course some serious disciplinary measures became necessary. For now, they were Kaimi and Jasmine’s problem, and her heart went out to them. Even Jasmine didn’t deserve this.

Michael sighed and ran his fingers through his hair; he tried to, at least. They got stuck in the mess of straw-coloured locks before they got far past his forehead. He gave up trying to disentangle them, put both hands on the top of his head and leaned back in his chair, letting a deep breath out in a long, silent whistle. The computer was not his friend today. With all the time they’d had to get ready for the first week of camp, the first day was still turning out to be a logistical nightmare.
Taking a minute’s break, he tore his eyes from the computer screen and looked over to his left. Jesse was standing beside Marilyn’s desk, helping her go through the camper check-in forms so they would be done before supper. She said something that made Marilyn laugh. He smiled, not at the joke, half of which he had missed, but at the way the sun streamed in from the window and lit up her hair with copper sparks. Jesse was always pretty, but at the moment she looked beautiful, and it made him glad to see her laugh. He allowed himself to watch her for a minute more because she didn’t seem to be noticing him.
Presently she picked up a paper from the desk and held it up to read, turning as she did so, giving him a view of her from the side. He wondered, but no, it couldn’t be happening... then, as if on cue, she took her other hand and rested it on her hip, arching her back just slightly. It was like magic. For one perfect Kodak Moment, he could actually see it. No amount of talking about it, hearing about it or thinking about it could drive the point home as much as that glimpse of roundness, that little swelling of her belly that his male eyes hadn’t been able to see before now. He almost whooped, but at the same time part of him died. Quickly he turned around to face the window. Something was definitely caught in his throat.
The dinner bell rang, and the spell was broken. Marilyn and Jesse took renewed interest in their paperwork, wanting to finish it quickly. Michael closed his computer program, knowing that his work, though far from done, could wait. The sound of staff and campers pouring into the dining hall drifted through to the office.
He’d known, of course, that she was pregnant. But she didn’t look pregnant; and he had checked. He only glanced casually once in a while, but if there had been anything to see, he thought he’d have seen it. Her clothes were always too loose, her behaviour always too normal. On the surface, she seemed to be the same girl she had been last year, and that made it far too easy to pretend nothing was different. Now he wouldn’t be able to shake that image of her out of his head. It had implanted itself firmly, and would superimpose itself over every view he had of her from now on; until she started getting even bigger, that was. Which would inevitably happen. She would be six months pregnant by the end of August, he realized. Women were supposed to be pretty large by then, weren’t they? With sore backs and swollen feet? A look of deep concentration came over his face as he sat there, trying to figure this all out.
Jesse broke in on his reverie. “You coming for supper?” she asked.
When they entered the dining hall it was nearly full.
“We gonna have to eat on the floor?” he joked beside her as he searched for room. Just as he saw a couple of spots, a young girl’s voice yelled out.
“Jesse!”
Jesse spotted Debbie’s arm waving at her and smiled, then looked up at Michael. “Looks like I’ve got a seat. I don’t know about you!”
“Oh I’ll find something,” he assured her, as she walked away from him. More disappointed than he liked to admit, he took a seat alone, and found himself across from a black-haired girl with glasses. He recognized her, so she must have been at Staff-O, but he couldn’t remember her name, which was odd because he usually remembered names.
“Hi,” he said, reaching across the table. “I’m Michael. I don’t think we’ve met.”

Jesse’s table seemed to be more interested in talking than eating. Debbie could have carried the conversation herself, and would have if the other girls weren’t just as eager to put their own voices in. Many of them were former campers of Jesse’s, so the talk centred mostly on last summer, although Jesse tried to include the others if she could.
“Why did you have to go and be head cabin leader this year?” Debbie grumbled for the umpteenth time.
Jesse just laughed at her. “Oh, knock it off already! You’re still having fun, aren’t you? Your counsellors don’t beat you, do they?” she teased.
“No!” Debbie said excitedly, taking the bait and moving on. “We’ve got Phil and Susannah. Susannah said I could braid her hair for the banquet on Friday. Phil’s going to let me play her guitar. I told them you always gave us candy during devotions, though, and they said they don’t have enough for that.”
“Yeah,” pitched in another girl named Ruth-Anne, crestfallen. “I’m gonna miss that candy.”
Jesse took a bite of her food and rolled her eyes. “I don’t know what cabin you were in last summer, girls,” she said between chews, “but in Cedar Circle I’m pretty sure I gave out candy once, and that was a reward for a week of really sweet full-body massages.”
“I remember that!” another girl piped up. “I did a foot!”
The whole table erupted in giggles. “See there,” said Jesse, “you earned that candy. If you want more I suggest you start giving Phil and Susannah some back rubs.”
“Want me to give you a hand massage?” Debbie asked with dancing eyes.
Jesse closed her eyes and sighed contentedly just remembering Debbie’s hand massages. Who would have thought a hand had so many muscles? “Yes,” she said, “I do believe I will take you up on that some time this week.” She couldn’t help herself. It felt suspiciously like child labour, but her conscience didn’t bother her enough to make her refuse.
A slight jerk inside herself brought her eyes open fast enough, along with causing a sharp intake of breath. Quickly she scanned the girls’ faces: their chatter had moved on and none of them seemed to have noticed anything. That was a relief. I guess it’s awake, she mused. It did that once in a while. It was pretty calm during the day, seeming to be rocked to sleep by her movements, and usually she only felt it move in the night, but every so often she was surprised by a sharp little kick or a punch in the middle of the day, especially if she were sitting. She didn’t know that she’d ever get used to the alien feeling. It startled her every time. Just when she was beginning to forget, to think about something else, she would be reminded that she was not alone. It was unnerving.

Michael was what you might call a free spirit. Those who are not so generous might have come up with less friendly titles, however there is little to be gained by their retelling. Besides, it was hard even for those inclined toward snobbery to truly dislike Michael, and few if any such persons could be found among the Bible Camp staff. It is a very difficult thing to find fault with a person who was as blatantly and openly honest as he. Honesty in it’s real sense is much more than the avoidance of lies; many of the most dishonest people in this world can pride themselves on rarely, if ever, actually lying, but they might slyly omit some very important truths, pretend they understand when they don’t, smile without meaning it, or steal from their employers. Michael was the opposite of these. If something needed saying, he said it. He never smiled unless he was happy, which was often, and when he found something funny he laughed long and loud. He was not prone to look over his shoulder to see if anyone was watching him, he did not show off when playing sports but always passed to girls if they were open, and when he was embarrassed he blushed a deep red. He also had a habit of looking people in the eye when talking with them, a practice that came from being truly interested in people but was sometimes mistaken for flirting; which unfortunately happened to be the case at this moment.
Jasmine barely managed to gasp out her name the first time he asked it.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that,” he told her, leaning forward a little to hear her better.
“Jasmine,” she managed a little louder.
He confirmed the name with eyebrows raised questioningly, and she nodded weakly in response. He leaned back in his seat as prayer was said over the food, and she quickly bowed her head, but didn’t hear the words. She did, however, note the “Amen”, which was a good thing, because he was talking to her again, asking her how she was enjoying her first day as an assistant counsellor.
“It’s alright,” she heard herself say. Why did she say that? She should have been more enthusiastic about it.
He smiled, showing his teeth. “It’s a little overwhelming at first, isn’t it?” he said understandingly.
She couldn’t think when he was looking at her. She nodded dumbly. Thankfully at that time the kitchen doors opened, and carts laden with platters of hamburgers were rolled squeakily down the two aisles, between the three rows of tables, to the far end at which their seats happened to be situated. Michael took the plate from a smiling kitchen girl with animated pleasure and gave it to Jasmine, who took one and passed them on to the campers. As they dug eagerly into the food he made every one of them say their name and what cabin they were in, and then held up the empty platter, until another kitchen girl took it away to be refilled. Jasmine sat in awe of him as he chatted amicably with the campers, sometimes seriously and sometimes in fun. They like him, she realized with a pang of something that could only be called jealousy, and he seemed as absorbed in the conversation as they were. She noticed that all four of them were girls. As they talked he looked at her occasionally, as if inviting her to join in, but she could only plaster on a smile that she hoped was believable, and he would turn his attentions back to the noisy campers. There seemed to be no reservations in this group, nor the rest of the dining hall. They were mostly experienced at camping: the loyal few who refused to give up their week of childish pleasures in favour of more ‘grown up’ activities, such as loitering downtown or at the mall. Attendance was lower than it would be in other weeks, but they made up for their numbers with exuberance.
Of course, Jasmine was thinking no such thing. Bible Camp being a new experience, her contemplations could go no further than to wonder how anyone could eat, never mind carry on a conversation, amid such a racket. Michael seemed to be accomplishing both with surprising ease. She was not bitter, however, she only wished, in spite of herself, that he would turn those piercing blue eyes on her again, and yet she didn’t know what she would do if he actually did. She ate most of her meal staring down at her plate, listening to every word he said, and glancing up every once in a while when he was silent, to assure herself that he was still there. Once when she did this, she was shocked to find him staring so intensely that her insides went all shaky; but she soon realized that out he was actually gazing over her shoulder. She desperately wanted to know what he was looking at, but he noticed her then, and was so charmingly sweet and nice for the rest of the meal that she could almost imagine he had really been looking at her, and she didn’t want to ruin that feeling. Instead she concentrated diligently on giving answers to his questions that she thought would most please him.

“Will you be my swimming buddy, Jesse?” Debbie asked with a grin on her face.
Jesse put her book down. She sat on her bed with her back against the wall beside her window. Her ankles were crossed and her feet hung over the edge of the mattress. Debbie looked at her through the cabin’s screen door.
Jesse shook her head. “Sorry, I’ve got to help Marilyn in the tuk shop,” she said, glad to have a good excuse.
Debbie’s face fell. “Oh. Can I come in?” Jesse nodded, and she entered and plunked down on the bed beside her cross-legged.
“You haven’t done anything with me this week,” she pouted. “You didn’t play Bucket Ball yesterday, and you didn’t go swimming the day before that. You said we’d do stuff together.”
Jesse looked down at those red-brown puppy-dog eyes and tried to disagree, but she knew it was true. “I’m sorry,” she said instead. “I guess I haven’t been much fun this week, have I?”
Debbie just rolled her eyes up at her and shook her head, looking none too impressed.
“Well,” Jesse sighed, “let me think of something. What’s after swim?”
“Mini activity,” Debbie said dejectedly. “Then supper, then swim again. Hey,” she brightened, turning towards her with a bounce, “can you swim with me after supper?”
Jesse bit her lip. Swimming was definitely out of the question for her this week. She racked her brain to come up with some kind of excuse. “Umm, let me think,” she stalled.
The door swung open abruptly as Phil strolled in. “Hey kid,” she barked, nodding toward Debbie, “Skedaddle. Bridgett needs a swimming buddy. You’re it.”
Jesse smiled at Phil’s drill-sergeant-like attitude. Being as small and cute as she was, she needed it to get any respect. Debbie gave Jesse one last longing look.
“We’ll do something,” Jesse promised her. “Off you go.”
Debbie left reluctantly, casting a bitter glance at her counsellor as she passed her.
When she’d gone, Phil plopped down beside Jesse. “Whiny brat,” she muttered, lying down and putting her head on Jesse’s lap.
“Oh, she’s not a problem,” Jesse assured her. “She just doesn’t like you.”
“As I happen to be an excellent cabin leader, I’ll ignore that remark,” Phil said.
“I heard you wouldn’t let her play your guitar.”
“What was I supposed to do?!” Phil exclaimed upwards, outraged, but too lazy to get up. “The girl swung it around like it was a baseball bat! It took her all of two minutes to put as many new scratches in it as I’d done in two years!” Pressing her ear up to Jesse’s stomach, she consoled herself. “This kid likes me, anyway. She up? Hey girl!” she called to the tummy. “Come on, Aunty Phil’s here! Time to wake up.” With that, she gave Jesse’s stomach three small raps, as if she were knocking on a door. She was rewarded with a quiet gurgling sound.
Jesse groaned. “I swear it actually recognizes your voice.”
Phil’s hands now covered Jesse’s abdomen, and she seemed to be having a conversation with it. “There we go! That’s my little girl! Ok now, biiiiig stretch. That’s it! Oh, that was a good kick! Come on now, give me a little punch. Punch Aunty Phil in the head! Come on, you can do it! Gotta build up those muscles, now, we can’t just lie around all day doing nothing.”
“And why not?” Jesse demanded grumpily. “It keeps me up all night, can’t you let it be during the day?”
Phil gave her a disapproving glare. “Do you mind? You’re interrupting.”
“Don’t you have campers to be watching?”
“Look, you have all the time in the world to spend with baby. All I’m asking is five minutes before I go on shore duty. You can’t take that away from me too. Oh! That was a kick! See, she’s happy!” Phil declared.
“Well, someone here is happy,” Jesse confirmed. Sometimes, Phil could be so strange.
“You’re not very cheery for a pregnant woman,” Phil noted. “Aren’t you supposed to be ‘glowing’, or something?”
Jesse picked up her book. “That was last month,” she said narrowly. “You missed it.” That was a lie. She didn’t think she had ever ‘glowed’, last month least of all.
“And what’s this month? No-sense-of-humour month? No-time-for-your-friends month?”
“No,” she answered, “this is fat and crabby month.”
Phil reached up an understanding hand to pat her on the cheek. “There, there, now, Jesse, you’re not fat. You’re the skinniest pregnant lady I know,” she assured her.
Jesse laughed out loud, unable to keep up her facade of indifference. “Somehow I don’t think you know many pregnant ladies. And skinny for a pregnant lady is not exactly comforting,” she lamented. “I don’t know how I’m going to get through the rest of this week. I feel humongous!”
“Is it that bad?” Phil asked, showing some sympathy. “I really can’t tell.”
Jesse stared at the wall. “Every morning I get dressed and think, today’s the day. Today I’ll walk past a group of girls, and they’ll all stop talking, and I’ll know what they were talking about just the same. It only takes one with an idea to get it started: is she, or isn’t she? And then it’s all over camp. You know how girls are.”
“I don’t think you need to worry,” said Phil, “you don’t really look pregnant yet, except maybe to someone who knows what they’re looking for. And even if they did find out, would it be the worst thing in the world?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Jesse grumbled, “I guess I’m just not looking forward to strangers being able to see it. At least now, I can decide who I feel like telling. I have that much control, at least.”
Phil was momentarily distracted by the sound of the baby doing a somersault, and pressed closer to hear better. “Wow, do you hear this?” she asked.
Jesse shrugged. “I feel it, I guess, maybe not hear so much.”
“Hmm. I guess that makes sense. What does it feel like? Oh wait, I changed the topic. Well, you’re going to have to come out with it eventually, right? I’d say you’ve done pretty good hiding it this far.”
Jesse had to concede that. “I guess I can’t really complain,” she admitted. “I’m just glad Teens is the first week of the summer. I feel huge, but the baggy clothes seem to be working so far. I look like I’ve gained some weight, but I don’t think anyone’s guessed why.”
“Yeah,” Phil agreed. “Another month or so and kids this age would get suspicious. But there’s a bunch of little kid weeks coming up, so you’ll probably get away with it for a while longer, long as you make it through this week.”
“That’s the catcher,” said Jesse, “if I make it through this week.” She closed her eyes. “I really don’t want to explain this whole thing to any of these girls, especially Debbie. They shouldn’t have to deal with this.”
“No, maybe they shouldn’t,” Phil agreed, “but I think they could handle it if it came to that. They’re not innocents, you know, they watch the news and hear stories, and some of them have probably been sexually abused themselves. I don’t think it would scar any of them for life, and I don’t think they’d think any differently of you, either.”
When she was honest with herself, Jesse knew this was true. In fact, she had no doubts that they could handle it quite well; but she didn’t know if she could. She ran her fingers absent-mindedly through Phil’s hair, smoothing out the blond tendrils. There was something about these kids, when she was around them she could almost pretend nothing was wrong. She could recapture, if just for a little while, the person she had once been. She didn’t want to lose that person, not completely.
“I suppose you’re right,” she admitted, “but do you have any idea how hard it is to come out and say it? People don’t talk about stuff like this, it makes them uncomfortable. They know it’s not my fault, but somehow, when they look at me, I still feel ashamed.”
The door was once again swept open. Debbie stood ponderously on the doorstep, in a swimsuit and flip-flops, towel and shampoo in hand. She looked dumbstruck, holding the door open as if she didn’t know whether to proceed or turn and run.
Phil’s head snapped forward and she sat up off of Jesse’s lap. “What do you want?” she demanded with a show of irritability.
Debbie opened her mouth, but the poor girl couldn’t get anything to come out. She swallowed and tried again. “They’re looking for the shore guard,” she choked out finally.
“Ugh, that’s me,” Phil grunted and got off the bed. “I’m coming, tell Zeb to hold his horses. Are you sure the bell even rang?” Just before she exited she turned and gave Jesse a meaningful look, eyebrows raised and lips pursed, her face conveying without words that their cover may have just been blown.
Then they were gone, and Jesse didn’t know what to do. For a moment she considered crying, but a second later she felt like laughing. This, too, passed, and she was left not knowing how to feel, and not feeling anything in particular. She told herself not to worry, that nothing had happened, and that everything would be fine, until she almost believed it.
She turned and looked out her small window, drawing back the curtains. She saw Zeb, in his ridiculous wetsuit that he insisted on wearing when he was life guarding, walking far out into the shallow bay. He was followed by four other staff members acting as water guards to help keep campers from drowning or throwing mud or wandering away. Eventually, when the water got to about chest-high, he would reach the floating dock, and climb up on it to keep watch over the swimmers, or waders, and fully relish his position high above the heads of everyone else. Halfway there, he turned toward shore and blew a long blast on his whistle, and pairs of campers rushed into the lake. Every swimmer had to have a buddy, someone to swim near them and hold their hand when Zeb signalled a ‘buddy check’ with two sharp blasts on the whistle. It was a bright day, but windy, and the swimmers shivered as they braved the chilly water. Girls shrieked as boys splashed them in the ankle-deep shallows and the boys yelped as the girls splashed them back. More people than usual were going out today, probably to enjoy the high waves that were begging to be jumped in. She did wish she could go with them, but knew she couldn’t, even if she didn’t have to be in the tuk shop in 15 minutes.