The Girls of Firefly Cabin

by Cynthia Ellingsen

  Letting out a deep breath, Jade faced her friends.

  “Archer?” she said.

  Archer stepped forward. In a low voice, she repeated the speech Lauren had made that first time. One by one, each of the Fireflies then went around and told their favorite stories Jade had shared about Kiara.

  “I like the one where you and Kiara save the puppy,” Lauren said.

  Jade smiled, remembering.

  “Stuffing,” Jade said. “We named him Stuffing because we found him right after Thanksgiving. I think I’ll go see him when I get home.”

  The other stories also made Jade laugh, like the one where she and Kiara had gone to school dressed up as boys, the time they had a brussels-sprout-eating contest, and when she’d wrapped Kiara’s birthday present with so much duct tape that it had taken a whole hour to get into it. The memories filled her heart with joy, especially to think that the Fireflies could talk about Kiara like they’d known her. Finally, Jade pulled out a sheet of paper. Her heart ached as she studied it.

  “I’m going to read a poem. This one means a lot to me.”

  The previous fall, Kiara had won a poetry competition. It was announced at assembly, and she was so shocked she couldn’t stop giggling. The teachers had wanted her to read the winning poem, but since she had the giggles, she’d had to start over three times. Eventually, she got serious, leaned into the microphone, and her words had echoed across the gymnasium.

  “In Time”

  Age is all around me.

  Candles in my cake, yearbooks, report cards that rate

  what I do.

  Do I measure up, stand tall, make them proud?

  When I worry

  The bird sings on the cherry tree,

  The water glass, half full, dances on my desk,

  And we laugh at everything and

  Nothing.

  Fears fade away, into the dark of day, and

  The sun, oh

  the sun

  Is so bright with you.

  Worries fade and now we

  Celebrate

  We celebrate these days.

  “How beautiful,” Lauren whispered.

  “It was about our friendship. I was thinking about the words and it hit me—” She looked up at the sky.

  We celebrate these days.

  “Kiara was the most kind, generous, giving person. For too long, I was afraid her final words summed up our friendship, but they didn’t.”

  The other Fireflies murmured their agreement.

  “Our friendship is that poem and everywhere I look. A thousand things I see and think and feel. So…” Jade closed her eyes, imagining Kiara as the water, the sky, and the sparkle in the sun. “I love you and miss you. I know you want the best for me, and I’m going to make you proud of me. Rest in peace, Kiara.”

  Jade pulled out a pair of scissors from her bag. She handed them to Archer and indicated the friendship bracelets on her arm.

  “You sure?” Archer whispered.

  Jade nodded.

  With a solemn snip, the weight of the bracelets fell from her arm and dropped into the sand. She handed Lauren the bracelet from that first day. Lauren looked surprised but then tied it to Jade’s wrist.

  “I’m sorry it took so long,” Jade murmured.

  Lauren squeezed her hand. It looked like she wanted to say something, but instead, she choked up and turned away.

  “Group hug,” Archer demanded.

  The Fireflies rushed in. It took a minute for Lauren to turn and join them.

  “Thank you for doing this,” Jade told her friends. “You are the reason we celebrate these days.”

  Then, since the whole point was to stop feeling gloomy, she looked at Lauren’s watch and gave a dramatic shriek.

  “It’s been forty-five minutes. We are in so much trouble. Archer, race you to the Lodge?”

  Archer took off running, and the girls ran after her, squealing with laughter, but Lauren’s laughter rang false.

  “You okay?” Jade asked, catching up to her as she struggled with her ankle.

  Lauren avoided her gaze. “That was really beautiful.”

  Jade grabbed her hand. “Thank you for doing it.”

  Archer turned and waved. “Come on, slowpokes!” she shouted.

  “Let’s go,” Lauren cried.

  They took off. Even though Lauren was laughing, something was definitely bothering her.

  But what?

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Lauren sat on the couch at movie night, fighting tears. She’d had a hard time keeping it together ever since Jade had put on that friendship bracelet the night before, at Kiara’s ceremony. It almost broke her heart. Not to mention how brave Archer had been this week, confronting her sister, and Isla, accepting her parents’ rules.

  The smell of freshly buttered popcorn wafted through the room. Lauren looked up. Chef had arrived and was laying out paper bags of popcorn on one of the side tables, next to bottles of soda.

  “Snacks are here,” Cassandra called. “Everyone grab your popcorn and something to drink if you want it, and we’ll get started.”

  Lauren followed the other Fireflies to the snack table. The girls loaded up on popcorn while she stared blankly at a green container of Sprite.

  “Hello, missy.” Chef gave a cheerful wave.

  That’s all it took—the tears started.

  “Can I talk to you?” she asked in a strangled whisper.

  Chef said something to Cassandra, who took over at the table. Then Chef nodded at Lauren.

  “Let’s step outside.”

  Isla, Jade, and Archer were headed back to the couch.

  “Let me tell the girls.” Lauren rushed up and tapped Isla’s shoulder. “I’m going to go talk to Chef.”

  “Hurry,” Archer called. “I’m going to open the candy.” The candy.

  Archer’s mother had sent yet another shipment, this time a huge bag of miniature candy bars. Lauren could picture the girls devouring every piece, while shoving handfuls of buttery popcorn into their mouths.

  These girls have no idea how lucky they are.

  “See you in a minute,” Lauren said, and headed for the door.

  Outside, it was getting dark. Chef sat at the picnic table overlooking the lake. The mosquitoes attacked Lauren the second she sat down. She slapped them away in frustration.

  “They don’t bite me.” Chef chuckled. “I’m too mean.”

  “Not true.” Lauren hopped up to grab a can of bug spray from the supply bucket by the front door. The familiar pine scent coated her skin. She would never be able to use bug spray again without thinking about camp.

  “So, what’s on your mind, missy?” Chef asked.

  Lauren stared down at her hands. She still hadn’t told Chef that the administration had turned down her request to volunteer in the kitchen. Voice flat, she shared the bad news.

  “Unbelievable,” she cried. “They don’t know their heads from their bottom halves!”

  Lauren gave a weak smile. “I won’t get to see the girls again. This is it, for me.”

  “Oh, missy.” Chef sighed. “You’re so much like me.”

  “What do you mean?” Lauren said.

  Chef squinted out at the water. “My family came over from Ireland when I was ten. My parents got sick almost right away and died within two months of each other. They were too proud to go to the hospital because they couldn’t pay, you see. So, me and my two brothers had nowhere to go. The state put us into separate orphanages. I never saw them again.”

  Lauren put her hand to her mouth.

  “So, one day,” Chef continued, “this woman showed up. She was in her sixties, but she wanted to adopt a girl. They lined us up like cattle at an auction house. We were supposed to stand up straight, look smart, and say ‘yes ma’am,’ but when she spoke to me, I stuck my tongue out at her.” Chef grinned. “That woman became my mother.”

  Lauren pressed her hands together. “Wow.”

  For years,
she’d dreamed about something like that happening to her. Eventually, she’d accepted the fact that she was on her own.

  “That woman changed my life,” Chef said. “I was in for five years, missy, the longest five years of my life. I’m telling you this to say…” She held Lauren’s gaze. “I know what you’re going through, and I’m sorry.”

  Lauren nodded, throat tight.

  “Those girls.” Chef gestured at the building. “They don’t know what they have.”

  “I know,” she whispered. “Sometimes, I get so mad at them. It isn’t right. They’re my best friends.”

  Chef shook her head. “It’s okay to feel that way.”

  Lauren picked at the surface of the picnic table. “Should I tell them? The truth?”

  “That’s something you’ll have to decide for yourself, missy.” Chef patted her arm. “In my experience, love is love, warts and all.”

  Lauren gave Chef a clumsy hug and headed back inside. At the threshold, she hesitated.

  What should I do? Should I tell them?

  The girls would never understand. Not really.

  Straightening her shoulders, Lauren headed to the couch and took her seat.

  “Candy?” Archer asked.

  Lauren nodded. “Thanks.” She reached for a Crunch bar.

  Isla caught her up on what she’d missed. Lauren sat back and watched the movie, laughing with everyone else. At one point, Jade reached over and squeezed her hand.

  Lauren felt frozen against the scratchy cushions, despite the hot tears threatening to spill down her cheeks. Even though she was surrounded by her best friends, she’d never felt lonelier in her life.

  That night, Cassandra was out with the other counselors, and the Fireflies were snuggled in their bunks. Lauren stared out the window at the lake, Chef’s words ringing in her ears, and reflected on how brave each of the Fireflies had been this summer.

  It’s my turn.

  “Fireflies,” she said in a choked whisper. “I have to tell you something.”

  In a low tone, she confessed to everything—her “family” didn’t exist. She lived in a group foster home. She was an orphan.

  The words came tumbling out. As they did, Lauren felt a weight lifting from her heart. Like she was finally free.

  “I thought I’d be embarrassed to tell.” Lauren twisted the sheets around her hand, watching a firefly dance over the water. “I’m relieved, though. You’re my best friends. You deserve to know.”

  There was a sound at the edge of the bed, and she turned. The other Fireflies stood there, and they hugged her tight. Then Archer squeezed her hands.

  “I’m so glad you told us, but I already knew.”

  “Wh-what?” Lauren stammered. “How?”

  The funny looks Archer had been giving her jumped into her mind.

  “I opened your mail,” Archer said. “There was—”

  “You did what?” Isla cried. “Archer, that’s a federal offense.”

  “It was an accident. Anyway. I knew, but I’m so glad you trusted us enough to tell us yourself.”

  Relief filled Lauren’s heart. “Thank you.”

  “What was it like growing up there?” Isla asked. “Was it like Annie?”

  Lauren snorted. “Not at all.” Trying to keep it light, she told them stories about her past. The girls seemed outraged that she never got presents for Christmas or her birthday.

  Jade shook her head. “Tell me when it’s your birthday, because you’re definitely getting something from me.”

  Lauren shrugged. “I have a roof over my head. I don’t need anything else.”

  “Uggh.” Isla smoothed the lapel of her designer shirt. “You must think we are such brats.”

  Lauren flushed. “Sometimes. But really, I think it’s our differences that make us such good friends. It’s important for you guys to know that I’m not coming back next year, but I still want to stay in touch. You’re my best friends. I don’t want to lose you.”

  “You won’t.” Archer’s voice was fierce.

  Jade held up her arm, showcasing her bracelet. “We’re Fireflies, Lauren.”

  Isla nodded. “That means we’re best friends. Forever.”

  “Bring it in,” Archer said.

  Lauren brought her hand in to meet the others. She was happy the girls knew the truth and still loved her for her, but it didn’t change the fact that everything was ending.

  “Zap, zap, zap,” they cried.

  Lauren shouted along with them. For the first time ever, though, she didn’t picture a firefly lighting up. Instead, she imagined a light fading into darkness.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Archer, Jade, and Isla huddled around the red table in the cabin. It was early morning. Cassandra had already left to help out with breakfast, and Lauren was out on her walk. There was still time before she would return with donuts, so Archer had called a secret meeting of the Fireflies.

  “So, I wanted to talk about the thing with Lauren.” She picked at a chipped piece of paint on the table. “How are you guys feeling?”

  “Sad,” Isla said. “I can’t believe we’re never going to see her again.”

  “I know.” Archer glanced at Lauren’s empty bunk. “I wanted to try to figure something out.”

  “You mean, to get her back here next year?” Jade asked. “We could set up a crowdfunding campaign,” Isla cried. “Raise money for her!”

  It was a good idea, but Jade shook her head. “She’d never accept it.”

  Too true.

  Once, when Archer had brought Lauren ice cream back from the canteen, she had waved off the dollar bill Lauren had tried to hand her, and Lauren had had a fit. She’d made a big deal out being able to pay and insisted Archer take the money.

  “Maybe we should just…” Archer fought the lump in her throat. “Let her know how we feel about her. If we have to say goodbye. But how?”

  “The essay,” Jade whispered. “For the Faces of Blueberry Pine competition. She planned for us to write one about what we’ve learned from the contest, which we could still do. But we could write another one in secret. One about Lauren.”

  “The competition!” Archer groaned, burying her face in her hands. “That’s why she wanted to win so bad. She wants something to remind her of her time here. Of us.”

  “Then we will win.” Isla dark eyes flashed. “I’ll write the rough draft. My parents have been sending me to college prep courses for years. I can write an essay in my sleep.”

  “We can’t mention she’s an orphan,” Archer warned. “It’s not something she wants everyone to know.”

  “We’ll just say what she means to us,” Jade agreed.

  “She means everything,” Archer said. “Without her, the Fireflies wouldn’t exist.”

  Outside, raindrops started to splash against the front porch.

  “This weather is perfect.” Isla hopped to her feet and shut the window. “Canoeing will get canceled this afternoon, so I can get started then.”

  “Perfect. Bring it in,” Archer said, and the Fireflies put their hands in the center. “This time, it’s for Lauren.”

  The Fireflies gave a solemn nod. “For Lauren.”

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Isla settled into a chair in the computer lab and stared down at the keyboard, waiting for inspiration to strike. It didn’t take long. The most difficult part about nonfiction writing, she’d learned, was the structure. Inserting the facts was easy.

  With Lauren, the facts were simple: her leadership was the reason the summer had been a success. The Fireflies were best friends because of her, and as a result, each one of them had become a better version of themselves. Personally, Isla couldn’t believe how much she had changed.

  Resting her hand on her chin, she looked out the window at the forest. The mist made the ferns shine, sunshine filtered through the leaves in spite of the light rain, and she could practically hear the sound of the frogs croaking by the lake. The scene filled her with a se
nse of peace, so different from the panic of those first few weeks.

  I was so scared of everything. Now, I don’t feel scared of anything.

  Breaking up with Jordan was the hardest thing she’d ever done. More difficult than starting a business, singing onstage in front of the boys, and even more difficult than finding the courage to come to camp at all. In spite of how much she liked him, Isla had decided to respect her parents’ rules about dating and hadn’t looked back.

  As much as I’ll miss the other Fireflies, I’ll be glad to get back home.

  Back to the honking cabs, the hiss of the grates on the sidewalk, and the sizzle of fried onions from the vendors on the street corners. To the museums, the symphonies, and her apartment with the doorman.

  Once again, Isla looked out at the forest. She would have to pay more attention to the outdoors back home. She could go to Central Park. Make an effort to be outside. Stop hiding all the time behind her business and her studies.

  And when I get off course, I’ll have the Fireflies to guide me back home.

  After Lauren had revealed her secret, the Fireflies made a vow to video chat the first Thursday of every month. Lauren had seemed worried about it, so Isla explained it was possible to video chat at the library, as long as she brought a headset and spoke quietly. Even if Lauren couldn’t be there next summer, Isla was determined to keep Lauren in her life.

  She will be there, in spirit. I am going to write an essay that will make sure we are the faces of Blueberry Pine.

  Isla lowered her hands to the keyboard and got started.

  Once the Fireflies had seen the rough draft of the essay, Isla polished it three times. They worked fast and secretly, slipping copies under one another’s pillows; in their dressers; and now, under their trays at dinner. Lauren stood at the hot bar, getting a second helping of lasagna, so they were safe.

  “Go through and make changes,” Isla whispered. “The deadline’s tomorrow morning. I’ll rewrite it and turn it in.”

  Lauren headed back their way, and the other Fireflies returned to ranking flavors of ice cream—the conversation that had dominated dinner. The final debate was between rocky road (Archer and Isla) and chocolate chip cookie dough (Jade).