Blue Like Elvis

by Diane Moody

  He closed with a time of prayer, we sang a little more, then we had some free time to enjoy the outdoors. The girls brought out the graham crackers, marshmallows, and chocolate bars for the traditional cooking of the S’mores, my personal favorite. Tucker made sure to burn my marshmallows, then smear the gooey mess over my face as much as possible. You can take the doctor out of the hospital, but you can never take the kid out of the doctor. Or something like that.

  Later we said our goodnights and headed into our tents. Earlier, Sandra and I had put our sleeping bags in an enormous luxury tent with eight other girls. After the mandatory final trek to the bathrooms, we all snuggled into our sleeping bags, ready to call it a night.

  At least most of us did.

  I realized Sandra was nowhere to be found. Normally, I would have been concerned, but the last time I saw her, she and Trevor were walking toward the lake. I smiled, envisioning them sitting on a log, enjoying each others’ company as they gazed out upon the moonlit waters of Lake Placid. She still hadn’t returned when I fell sound asleep.

  When the sun began to rise, I awakened to the clatter of pots and pans and the distinct aroma of sizzling bacon. I noticed several of the girls in my tent had already rolled up their sleeping bags. I assumed they must be the ones out there cooking. I turned to find Sandra sacked out, snoring quietly with her mouth slightly opened. I nudged her with my foot.

  “Hey, sleepyhead. What time did you get to bed?”

  Her eyes flitted open, then she stretched into a vigorous yawn. “Huh? Oh . . .” Her lips curled into a smile as she closed her eyes again. “Mmmm, wouldn’t you like to know?”

  “Probably not, come to think of it.”

  She stretched again and rolled onto her side to face me. “I’m so glad you talked me into coming.”

  “Obviously,” I smirked.

  “Trevor . . . I’ve never met anyone quite like him. He’s smart, he’s funny . . . and oh my goodness, can that boy kiss!” she whispered.

  “Shhh! Sandra? So that’s what you guys were doing last night?”

  “And if we were? We were just having some fun, that’s all.”

  “I’m just saying, it’s kind of fast, don’t you think?”

  “So?”

  I stared at her for a moment and decided to let it go. It wasn’t that I didn’t like the idea of them together, it was just . . . well, I don’t know. It just felt weird, out here, with all these singles around us. But Sandra was no fool. She could certainly take care of herself.

  “Hey, forget I said anything. Let’s get cleaned up so we don’t miss breakfast.”

  I thought dinner was good, but breakfast was incredible. The girls had grilled up a mountain of eggs and bacon then cleared the camping stove to cook what looked like a hundred pancakes. They’d even warmed the syrup. I couldn’t believe how hungry I was. Slowly, everyone wandered out of their tents and joined us. Tucker looked ridiculous when he popped out of his tent, his dark hair sticking up like a porcupine. He gave me a lopsided smile then sauntered off toward the showers, a towel slung over his shoulder. He was back in five minutes looking squeaky clean and wide awake, his wet hair still spikey.

  “Whoa!” he said, pouring himself a cup of coffee. “Anybody else take a cold shower this morning?”

  Bobby snickered, which of course made Burt crack up. I decided they were really just ten-year-olds masquerading as adults.

  “No, I didn’t mean that,” Tucker groaned. “I meant there’s no hot water. That’ll wake ya’ up and fast.”

  A few minutes later, he sat down beside me at the picnic table, his plate piled high with pancakes.

  “Hungry, Dr. Thompson?” George asked.

  “You betcha. I could eat a horse about now.” He forked a huge bite of pancakes.

  “Well, you’ll be sorry to hear there’s no horsemeat on the menu today. Just hot dogs for lunch and chili for dinner.”

  “Yes, but what’s in the chili?” Tucker asked. “Therein lies the question.”

  An hour later, George led us in a morning devotional then encouraged us to go out into the woods and find a quiet place for some personal prayer time. Tucker took my hand and led me to a spot under some pine trees overlooking the lake. We sat quietly at first, then he just started to pray. It seemed like the most natural thing we’d ever done together. He talked to God as if the Almighty was sitting right there with us. Which, I guess, He was. He thanked Him for the beauty surrounding us, the fresh air, the scent of the pine needles beneath us . . . and then he thanked God for me.

  It startled me at first. We’d never prayed together like this before, and I didn’t really know what to expect. But I never thought he’d be so open, praying about me like this—especially with me sitting right there.

  “Lord, I’ve already thanked You a thousand times for bringing Shelby back into my life. I still can’t believe it, after all these years. Thank You for helping her see me as more than that snot-nosed kid who once put worms in her tennis shoes—”

  “Hey!” I protested, elbowing him in the ribs. “That was you?”

  “Shhh, Shelby,” he whispered. “Can’t you see I’m praying here? And Lord, please forgive her disrespect. She meant no harm.”

  I elbowed him again but said nothing.

  “Thank You for saving me, Lord. Not just for saving my soul, but saving me from the mistake I almost made . . . for giving me a second chance. And for using Shelby to open my eyes.”

  I was glad his eyes were actually closed at the moment as I felt a tear slip down my cheek. We’d talked about it that night at the Peabody, but we hadn’t mentioned it since. And certainly never in a prayer. I was speechless.

  He pulled his hand free and wrapped his arm around my shoulder, pulling me closer. “Thank You, for this friendship You’ve given us. The sheer companionship of this relationship. It’s such a blessing. Don’t let us ever take it for granted, Lord.”

  He was silent for a moment, but I knew there was more.

  “And Father, right here, right now, in this amazing expanse of your creation, I ask You to lead us. Whatever You may or may not have in store for us, show us the way. Help me be the friend Shelby needs me to be. Help her know how much she means to me . . . already. . . still.”

  I wasn’t sure what he meant by that, but I liked the sound of it.

  “And God, I want to commit our relationship to You in this quiet moment, and ask You to guide us each and every day to honor You with what You’ve given us. Thank You, even now, for what You’re going to do. You are God, You are Abba Father, and we love You.”

  He took a deep breath and let it out, then squeezed my shoulder. I knew he probably wanted me to pray, but I couldn’t. Even if I’d wanted to, I couldn’t have uttered a word. After a few moments of silence, he said, “Amen.”

  We sat there, neither of us saying anything for at least ten minutes or so. Finally, he pulled me to my feet and we took a walk around the banks of Lake Placid. Occasionally we’d encounter some of the others in our group, but we tried not to disturb them.

  I tried to figure out this man who’d dropped into my life and so radically changed it. I still had my reservations. I wanted to trust him completely. He’d given me no reason not to. Still, I had this check in my spirit, holding me back. Scared. I remembered my conversations about trust with Dr. Love. And as we walked around that lake, I prayed silently that God would show me how to let go and love this man the way he deserved to be loved.

  Chapter 29

  The rest of the day we were at war.

  The group was divided into four teams and we competed in all kinds of crazy games and skills. Tug of war, silly relay races, a scavenger hunt, and even a shaving cream fight followed by exploding sacks of flour. It was all so ridiculous, but we had the best time. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d played so hard and laughed so much.

  Thankfully the showers weren’t completely cold when we all cleaned up, though I craved the steaming hot water of my shower at home. But
by dinnertime, the last remnants of the pasty goo were gone, and we enjoyed chili and cornbread by the campfire. The Killer Bs were preoccupied with their “big surprise” and kept running off into the woods. I was convinced more than ever those two should have gone on a middle school outing instead of our singles adventure. One of the other guys had seen a stash of fireworks in their tent, so we all braced ourselves for whatever they had up their sleeves.

  We sang again, then Dr. Krause talked to us about the importance of staying sexually pure in a society that ridiculed such behavior. Thankfully, Burt and Bobby had scampered off so we could avoid their childish reactions to the topic. But George talked so sensibly about the subject, I don’t think any of us were uncomfortable. He reminded us how the world had confiscated the beautiful gift God intended us to have, substituing it with a cheap knock-off. He gave examples of Hollywood’s lies on the subject in the movies we’d all seen. And yet, he never talked down to us, never lectured us in that sense. I wasn’t sure how he did it, but he was sure good at it.

  I couldn’t tell if it was the breeze against the night air or just a long day of lots of physical activity, but I was having a hard time staying awake toward the end of Dr. Krause’s talk. When he finished, Tucker and I chatted a while then I begged off, wanting to call it a night and go crawl in my sleeping bag.

  “What, and miss more-S’mores?”

  “But I’m tired, Tucker.”

  “Too tired for Tucker? I’m offended.”

  “No, that’s not what I said. I’m just beat.”

  “Okay, I promise I’ll let you get some sleep if you go down by the lake with me for a few minutes first.”

  “Tucker . . .” I whined.

  “A few minutes, that’s all. I promise.”

  I tilted my head, already imagining the soft cool liner of my sleeping bag. I huffed for his benefit. “Okay-fine-whatever.”

  “Gee, don’t sound so thrilled, Moonpie.” He took my hand and led me down the path.

  “Anyone ever tell you how stubborn you are, Tucker?”

  “Yeah. You. About 20 years ago. Over and over and—”

  “Well, that’s because you take stubborn to a new art form.”

  “Stop whining. It’s beautiful out here, see?”

  We took a seat on an old tree log at the edge of the beach. He put his arm around me and drew me close.

  “You’re right. It is. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be so crabby. I’m just tired.”

  “Not used to shaving cream fights, eh?” He leaned his head on mine.

  “Evidently not,” I said, then changed subjects. “So, no pages from Rich?”

  “Nope, not yet.”

  “I wonder how Rachel’s doing. I can’t imagine what she must be thinking right now. Wondering if any minute her baby will be born.”

  “Ever witness childbirth?”

  I pulled back to look at him. “Me? Not hardly.”

  “It’s a beautiful thing. Whether it’s natural or c-section or something in between, it’s beautiful. To see those little buggers twist their little red faces up,” he said, acting out the part, “then belt out that first good cry—there’s nothing like it.”

  “I’m looking forward to it someday.”

  “Yeah? You want a lot of kids?”

  “I don’t know. I haven’t really thought about a number. I just know I want children. Don’t you?”

  “Absolutely. At least a dozen or so.”

  “A dozen?! Well, then. I guess—”

  Suddenly, shots rang out. They came in rapid-fire succession, sounding like we were in a war zone.

  “What the heck?” Tucker cried out.

  “Stay down, everyone!” we heard George shout.

  We could hear everyone shouting and rushing around, the voices wild with panic.

  Tucker leaned close to me. “Stay here, Shelby! I need to go see what’s going on.”

  “Tucker, no!”

  “I’ll be fine. Just stay low until I get back.” With that he was gone.

  The commotion continued as more shots rang out. Then I heard Tucker yell, “Is anybody hurt?”

  I couldn’t just sit there, so I crawled back toward the campsite. Everyone had hit the deck and seemed to be as bewildered as I was. As far as I could tell, no one had been hurt. More shots rang and everyone lowered themselves to the ground again. That’s when the screaming commenced.

  “OUCH! OUCH! OUCH! I’M HIT! I’M HIT!”

  “PUT IT OUT! PUT IT OUT!”

  Across the way to my far right, a spectacle of lights bounced erratically around the inside of a tent. Some of the lights shot right through the tent walls arcing into the night sky. Others seemed to just keep bouncing around inside. Against the backlight of all that commotion, we saw two silhouettes dancing wildly inside the tent.

  Just then, another round of explosions went off. Bobby came flying out of the tent.

  “I’M HIT! I’M HIT! HELP ME! I’M HIT!”

  Burt followed close behind, backing out of the tent as more of the apparent bottle rockets chased him. He stumbled, falling back on the ground, then quickly back-crawled away from the fireworks which continued going off inside the tent.

  “MY BUTT! MY BUTT! IT’S ON FIRE!” Bobby ran around the campsite, his hands on his backside, occasionally stopping to jump up and down and wail like a banshee.

  “Trevor! Where are you? Go get the First Aid kit!” Tucker shouted, jumping up to help Bobby. “Calm down, Bobby! Just calm down!” he said, trying to grab hold of his arm.

  “DON’T TOUCH ME! IT HURTS! I’M DYYYING! IT HURTS SO BAD!”

  “Stop it! Listen to me!” Tucker said, yanking him to a stop. “You’re not dying. Come over here on the table and let me take a look at it.”

  “SOMEBODY CALL AN AMBULANCE! I’M DYING! I TELL YOU, I’M DYING!”

  “You’re not dying, Bobby, so shut up!” Burt scolded, approaching his friend.

  I rushed to Burt’s side. “You don’t look so good,” I said. “There’s blood all over your face. Come sit down.”

  “What? Oh my GOSH! I’ve been HIT! I’M HIT TOO!”

  “You’re fine, just calm down. We’ll get Trevor and Tucker to take a look in a minute. Come here and sit down.” I led him over to another table and helped him sit. Some of the others grabbed dishtowels and poured water on them so we could gently start cleaning Burt’s face and try to find the source of the bleeding.

  “NO!” Bobby screamed again, behind me. “You’re not going to pull my pants down in front of all the girls! NO! Stay away from me!”

  Tucker turned toward the crowd. “Ladies? If you’ll move away from the campsite and give our friend here some privacy? George, you want to escort the ladies down to the water for a minute?”

  Trevor returned with the First Aid kit. Once they convinced Bobby his female audience was gone, he let them attend to his wounds. I had my back toward him as I continued cleaning Burt’s face, finally realizing the blood was coming from cuts on his forearms. Apparently he’d suffered some lacerations, then, while shielding his face, inadvertently smeared blood all over his face.

  “You’re going to be fine,” I said quietly. “As soon as Tucker checks out your buddy over there, he can take care of those cuts. Okay?”

  “I guess,” he said, his voice shaky. “Is Bobby gonna be okay?”

  I refrained from looking over my shoulder, not wanting to invade the other B’s privacy and risk getting him riled up again. I could hear Trevor and Tucker discussing the situation as they worked.

  “Is he going to be okay?” Burt called to them.

  “Oh, I think he’ll survive,” Trevor said calmly. “But we probably need to get him to the ER.”

  “YOU’RE TAKING ME TO THE HOSPITAL?!” Bobby screamed, just before breaking into a full-scale sob.

  “Bobby! Knock it off! We’ll get you cleaned up as best we can, but you need more medical attention than we can provide here. Wouldn’t you rather be in a nice, sterile environment than o
ut here in the woods?”

  “Yeah-huh,” he cried, sounding like a five year old.

  “Good. Let us finish cleaning these wounds, then we’ll make you comfortable and get you back to town.”

  “Okay,” he whimpered.

  “Take me, too!” Burt cried. “Look! See my arms? They’re all shot to pieces!”

  “We’ll take you, Burt. Just calm down,” Tucker said, obviously weary of the behavior. “Shelby, how’s it look? Have you been able to stop the bleeding?”

  “Not really. Can you take a look?”

  He stepped over and checked out the multiple cuts on Burt’s forearms. “Yeah, looks like you’re going to need some stitches too. Burt, what were you guys thinking? Don’t you know not to play with firecrackers?”

  Burt turned his head. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  Tucker looked at me, rolling his eyes. He handed me a roll of gauze and some antibiotic ointment. “See what you can do.”

  Gradually, the others returned, helping where they could. Several of the guys secured the now-destroyed tent making sure there were no more surprises about to go off. Half an hour later, we watched as Tucker and Trevor drove off with the two Killer Bs in Trevor’s Jeep, with Bobby stretched out in the back on his stomach, his legs awkwardly resting on Burt’s lap. Bobby wouldn’t be sitting for a long, long time.

  The rest of us tried to get some sleep but the episode pretty much ruined the campout. We’d all been stung by the Killer B’s tomfoolery. We decided to break camp after breakfast and just go home.

  I decided it would be a long, long time until I ever embarked on another camping trip.

  Chapter 30

  After we got home, I’d barely stepped out of the shower when the phone rang. I knew Sandra was taking a nap, so I quickly wrapped a towel around me and tiptoed over to the phone on my bedside table. I was relieved to hear Tucker’s voice on the other end.

  “So, how are the boys? Did they survive the trip to the ER?”

  “What? Oh, yeah. They’re fine. But I think you need to get down here. Rich just called and said he’s bringing Rachel in.”