by Rob Buyea
“I’m recovering,” I said.
He smiled. “That’s good to hear.” He took a few minutes to talk with Mom, and then he checked my scar and did a few tests on my knee to assess my range of motion and stability.
“Things look great, Randi. I’d say you’re ahead of schedule.”
Mom let out a sigh of relief. “That’s great to hear. Thank you.”
“Just keep doing what you’re doing, and you’ll be back before you know it.”
“Thank you,” Mom said again.
After Dr. Pierce left, Jacob took me into the gym and showed me some additional exercises that I could incorporate into my rehab routine. Then he put me through a modified workout, just so I could see for myself how much I could do. It wasn’t anything Coach Andrea couldn’t have had me do, but when we got done, Jacob kneeled next to me and said something that only he could say.
“Randi, I lost my wife much too early, and for no reason other than life not being fair. Much like it not being fair that you got hurt. But at some point you realize that you need to pick yourself up and push forward. That doesn’t mean you forget—I’ll never forget Svetlana, and you shouldn’t forget the pain you’ve had to endure—but you move forward. You need to because there are other opportunities waiting. Opportunities you can’t even imagine. Trust me.
“I’ll always miss Svetlana and remember her, but when I met your mom, it was like I got another shot at life.
“Am I making any sense?”
“Yes,” I croaked. I understood.
He leaned closer and hugged me. My eyes blurred. You could chalk that up as a very special moment—and that was why it scared me so much.
NATALIE KURTSMAN
ASPIRING LAWYER
Kurtsman Law Offices
BRIEF #9
October: Kids Klub #1
I would’ve gone early to Kids Klub—being prompt and being first was my typical approach to matters of this sort—but I wasn’t certain how Robbie would respond to seeing me after these many months, so I waited until the others could join me. Brian gave us all a ride over in the same SUV we had taken to the beach. He picked up the guys after they got out of football practice, and then he swung by and grabbed me, and last we stopped for Meggie. (FYI: When I say “the guys,” I mean Trevor, Gavin, and Scott—because once Scott found out about the visit, he had to come, too. Gavin, on the other hand, was far less enthusiastic, and made a last-minute decision to get out at his house and stay behind. Understandably, he was not too keen on anything Holmes-related.)
I was pleased to have the company of friends—minus Gavin for the reasons I just stated, minus Randi because she was away at Jacob’s, and minus Mark because Trevor still needed to fix that—because that made our visit feel like a sincere gesture and not something I was doing for selfish reasons. (FYI: Trevor was trying my patience with this Mark ordeal, but I had other priorities to tend to first.)
We found Robbie sitting alone at a table, reading a joke book when we arrived. “Overjoyed” might best describe how he responded to seeing us, Meggie especially; she was his good friend from class. I daresay Robbie was almost as excited as Scott gets about surprises—almost.
“Tell us a joke,” Scott said upon noticing Robbie’s book.
“Why does a duck have feathers?” Robbie asked.
We shrugged.
“To cover up his butt quack.”
We burst into laughter, attracting stares from around the room, but we didn’t care.
“Tell us another one,” Scott begged.
“What’s invisible and smells like bananas?” Robbie asked next.
“What?” we said.
“Monkey farts.”
More raucous laughing. It went on like this for five or six more jokes before I decided to step in. “Okay, okay,” I said. “How about we try something else. Would you like to play UNO?”
Robbie jumped to his feet and beelined to the games cart.
“Robbie likes his joke books because they make his daddy laugh when he visits him,” Meggie whispered to me.
I nodded, even though inside, my stomach was twisting. Meggie had just answered my one question. Robbie did go to see his father. As scared as I was, that convinced me that I had to follow through with my plan. I took my coat and bag and set them off to the side—where I could easily forget them without the others noticing.
“I got it,” Robbie said, dropping UNO onto the table.
Trevor took the cards and dealt the first hand. I couldn’t tell you how many rounds we played, but it was a bunch. Poor Scott didn’t have much luck, but Robbie and Meggie got a hoot out of watching him get all upset whenever he had to draw cards. My body flushed with warmness every time I heard Robbie giggling.
We had a fun visit, but I made certain not to lose focus. I kept my eye on the clock. Brian had driven us over, but Mother was scheduled to pick us up after one hour. It needed to be a short and sweet visit; if we overstayed our welcome, then it was possible we’d run into Robbie’s older brother, Nicky—and that was on my list of don’t-want-to-happen things, and I suspected was why Gavin had stayed away. But more important, if Robbie were to leave before us, then my plan would be foiled.
“Mother just texted,” I said to the group. “She’s here. We’ve got to go, Robbie.”
“Oh,” he said, slumping.
That was enough to soften the hardest heart. “We’ll be back,” I promised.
He nodded.
The guys and Meggie said bye, and we left. I waited until we were outside and getting into the car before I made my move. “I forgot my bag,” I said. “I’ll be right back.”
“I can get it for you,” Trev offered.
“It’s okay. I’ll go.”
I hurried inside and found my belongings where I had purposely forgotten them; I’d needed a reason to go back so that I could see Robbie again—just the two of us. I walked over and sat across from him. He looked up.
“Robbie, I need to ask you a favor.”
“What?” he said.
“Robbie, your father knows who I am. I’m afraid he doesn’t like me very much, but I have a few questions for him, so I’m going to mail him a letter. He might not want to answer me, but I hope he does.”
“I’ll tell him you’re nice.”
I smiled. “That might help. If he chooses to respond, I’d like to tell him that the best way to get his letter to me is to give it to you. I’m afraid that if he mails it, my mother or father might find it first. Will you be my secret deliverer?”
“Okay,” he agreed, eager to help.
“Thanks, Robbie. If your daddy gives you something, just hang on to it for me. I’ll be back.”
“Okay,” he said again.
“I’ve got to go now. The others are waiting.”
“Bye.”
I waved, and then I left and joined everyone else in Mother’s car, and away we went. I was there physically, but mentally I was elsewhere.
Our trip to Nature’s Learning Lab was finally here. Waiting for this had been as bad as waiting to open presents on Christmas morning. I was extra excited because we weren’t even there yet and the best thing had already happened: I got a phone! A phone! It was Mom’s idea. She got it for me because this was my first time sleeping away from home and she was a little nervous.
I’d only had the phone for a few days, but I’d already downloaded some really cool apps. I practiced taking pictures and selfies, too, because I wanted to get some good shots of the lake and things like that when we got to the camp. When I was fooling around with the camera before morning broadcast, I discovered you could even record videos. Once I made that discovery, I got one of my best awesomest ideas. I wanted to make a documentary of our week at camp.
“Why didn’t I think of that?
” Natalie said when I told her. “Scott, that is a terrific idea! We can show it on The Razzle-Dazzle Show when we get back. I’ll bring my laptop so I can download whatever you record at the end of each day; your phone will run out of room otherwise.”
“Okay,” I agreed. “I’m going to do a great job.”
“Try to capture the place and all the important happenings and details,” Natalie instructed.
“I will.”
Natalie told Mr. Allen about our plan, and that was how I got special permission to keep my phone with me all day long. Everyone else only got to use their phone for thirty minutes in the morning.
I was so excited about camp and my phone and documenting the experience that I was the first one off the bus when we got there. I jumped down the steps and wiped out in the gravel, but I didn’t skin my hands or knees because I fell on my sleeping bag. I bounced back to my feet.
“That’s gotta be the best arrival I’ve ever seen,” said a skinny man with a super-duper-long beard. “Is your name Kramer?”
“No, I’m Scott.”
“Welcome to Nature’s Learning Lab, Scott.”
“Thanks,” I said.
“Welcome!” the man shouted as the buses emptied behind me.
“How long have you been growing that beard?” I asked him. I’d never seen one so long.
He stroked his whiskers. “Since I was your age. I like it because I’m able to keep my leftovers in here for when I need a snack in between meals.”
“Eww!” a chorus of girls whined.
“I might vomit,” Natalie whispered.
I laughed. I liked this guy. Then I remembered my plan. I quickly got my phone out and started recording.
“Welcome,” the man called out again, once all the students and teachers were off the buses and gathered around. “I’m Mr. Beard.”
Everyone laughed.
“I wanted a name people could remember,” he said.
“You’ve got it,” I told him.
Mr. Beard chuckled. “I have a few quick announcements and house rules before I send you on your way. First, there is a second school on-site this week, but we have arranged your schedules so that you should not be overlapping or competing with them for any resources. I’m only telling you so that you’re aware. Second, the boys’ cabins are numbers twelve and thirteen, and the girls will be staying in numbers fourteen and fifteen.” He pointed in their general direction. “The mess hall is behind you, and the bathrooms are over there.” Again, he pointed to show us. “Last, you have twenty minutes to get yourselves unpacked and settled. Then we’ll gather back here for official introductions and to get you started with our first activity. Questions?”
“When do we eat?” I asked.
“After,” he answered.
“Do you have cookies and brownies for dessert?”
“After.”
“After what?”
“After after,” he said. “Now go unpack.”
I wasn’t sure when after after was or if there were going to be any cookies or brownies, but that was okay. I didn’t have a snack in my beard, but I did have a hidden goodies stash to hold me over. I grabbed my stuff and started lugging it to my cabin. It was hard but not as hard as dragging the heavy bags at practice. I was doing good until the zipper on my suitcase broke.
NATALIE KURTSMAN
ASPIRING LAWYER
Kurtsman Law Offices
BRIEF #10
Late October: Trouble
In many ways, this excursion to Nature’s Learning Lab shared similarities with the start of school. There would be new instructors, new surroundings, new routines, etc., which also meant that first impressions were on the docket. Let me just say, this supposed enrichment experience did not get off to a good start.
Upon arrival we were greeted by a skinny man with an oversize beard, outfitted in dirty jeans and a flannel shirt. Despite his presentation, I must admit, he was amiable. “Welcome!” he shouted. “Welcome! You can leave your bags off to the side and then grab a seat on one of our benches. I have a few quick announcements and house rules before I send you on your way.”
I liked rules, but not the benches, which were nothing more than long dirty pieces of wood resting on top of stumps. I chose to stand. I was trying not to be judgmental, but Mr. Beard blew it when he mentioned keeping leftovers in his whiskers. Such a thought was appalling. Needless to say, I planned on keeping my distance from him.
When Mr. Beard finished with his brief introduction, I grabbed my rolling suitcase and started in the direction of cabin fourteen while the rest of my classmates shouldered duffel bags and backpacks. Gavin had his things on one arm and Randi’s on the other. Unfortunately, I was in no position to assist; my roll-away was not rolling very well. In fact, I didn’t make it very far before I slammed to a stop, the result of a stone getting lodged in one of my wheels. These lovely wilderness paths were made of gravel and not paved. This was a disaster from the start, and to make matters worse, I couldn’t lift my suitcase because I’d packed too much.
I felt a tap on my shoulder and hoped it was Trevor coming to my rescue, but instead I found Mr. Beard standing beside me. “Need a hand?” he asked.
Of course I did, but I didn’t want to admit that. I would’ve preferred that my boyfriend help me, much like Gavin was helping Randi, but Trevor was nowhere in sight. I sighed. Apparently Mr. Beard took that as a yes, because he hoisted my suitcase off the ground.
“Thank you,” I said.
“Don’t worry. You’re not the first person with one of these wheeled contraptions that I’ve had to help out here.”
He marched ahead in the direction of cabin fourteen, but I stood there, stuck in place. I’d already been worrying about spiders and bugs and other grossness, but now you could add Mr. Beard judging me to the list. As far as first impressions go, this was about my worst ever, and when I heard the snickering, I feared I’d blown it with more than just Mr. Beard.
I immediately turned and spotted a group of boys from the other school—whom we weren’t supposed to interact with—patting their muscle-bound leader on the back and laughing and carrying on like a pack of hyenas. I flushed with embarrassment, but then I realized they weren’t even looking at me. They were pointing at poor Scott. Don’t ask me how he did it, but somehow Scott had managed to have his suitcase spill open, dumping its contents all over the ground. He was scrambling to cram everything back inside and was clearly struggling.
The laughing intensified when Scott dumped his suitcase a second time—and so did the glare I was shooting at the hyenas. Scott would encounter bullies for the rest of his life—I couldn’t stop that from happening. But as long as I was around, I would do my best to help my friend. And I knew that the rest of the Recruits would be right there with me on that—and it wouldn’t be necessary for us to mush our spits together to form that pact.
Bring on the bullies, I thought. I’d get to cabin fourteen soon enough. I walked over and gave Scott a hand with his things.
“Looks like you need your mommy,” the muscle-head yelled. His pack cackled in response.
I flushed with anger. Clearly they did not know who they were messing with, but they would learn—the hard way.
We were three days into camp, and I still hadn’t fixed things with Mark yet—or even tried. Natalie had warned me to take care of it, to fix whatever was wrong before she did, but I didn’t know how. The last time I’d tried saying anything to Mark, he’d told me to get away. I was running out of chances. Natalie was going to say something, and that was only going to make it worse. I’d end up losing my best friend and my girlfriend if she got involved.
Having both of them here was stressing me out to the point that I wasn’t feeling good. I was sitting on the toilet with my fourth round of diarrhea when who showed up but Scott.
I shook my head. “Yeah, it’s me,” I grumbled.
“I thought so. I recognized your sneakers under the door. Are you okay? You smell bad.”
“What’re you doing in here?”
“Ugh,” he moaned. “I got overexcited when Mr. Beard put out the trays of brownies. I couldn’t help it. They looked so big and yummy. They were chocolate frosted!”
“What happened?”
“I ran to get one and tripped and fell into the spaghetti-and-meatball platters. It’s all over me. Wanna see?”
He tugged my stall door, but thankfully I had it locked. “Dude, I’m on the can!” I hollered. “Chill.”
“Oh, sorry.”
He had me shaking my head again. Unbelievable, I thought.
“I probably ruined my shirt, and Mom won’t like that, but Mr. Beard gave me two brownies, so it was worth it. I need to get a selfie before I try washing the food out.”
I heard him fumbling around, snapping pictures and even making a short video, and then the water turned on.
“Don’t get your phone wet,” I warned.
“I won’t.”
I chuckled. Only Scott would think to make a documentary of our experience, and only Scott would try to record something in the bathroom, but why shouldn’t he? He’d recorded everything else so far.
I finished in the stall and was standing at the sink washing my hands when trouble waltzed in. Up till now we hadn’t found ourselves in the same place at the same time as the kids from the other school. The counselors had done a good job of organizing our schedules. But you couldn’t plan for Scott and his spaghetti mishaps or for diarrhea.
Scott’s phone was propped near the sink, still recording, but he was over by the trash barrel, using wet paper towels to try to wipe the sauce off his shirt. He was singing some ridiculous song about his poor meatball and not paying attention. The stupid singing and the fact that he had his back to our sudden company made him a great target and a sitting duck.
