Finding Cabin Six

by Missy Robertson

  Those rascals. Bliss stole the dinger twice in one week!

  I located Lindsey Roth engaged in what looked like a serious discussion with Mamaw and some of the Cabin Six ladies over at their table. They obviously needed cheesecake, so I found a cart and flew over there.

  As I served them, I heard Betsy say, “Are we anywhere close to the asking price?”

  Lindsey shook her head. “Not yet. We need a miracle.”

  “Another Bless-ception, perhaps?” Mamaw asked.

  “A what?” Lindsey asked.

  Mamaw grabbed her by the arm. “Follow me.”

  CHAPTER 29

  Good News and Goodbyes

  And, just like that, our week at camp was over. The airhorn blew, signaling our last breakfast—cinnamon rolls and bacon—a meal that everyone loves but has trouble choking down because of being all choked up.

  “This has been my favorite week, ever!” Bliss popped out of bed and gave us each a little jewelry box with a pink heart charm in it. “I will never forget you girls.”

  Tears began flowing everywhere. I tried to change the subject since there were no tissues left.

  “You were out late last night, Bliss,” I said. And I raised an eyebrow. “You were out late the night before too.”

  Bliss stretched and yawned. “Yes, and I’m sorry. I hope Ember checked in on you. I’ve been on some . . . adventures . . . with my Aunt Betsy.”

  Madison sat up on her top bunk, her legs dangling down. “I miss my puppy, and my home, but now I feel like our princess palace is home too. I’m glad I came.” She jumped down and came over to give me a hug. “Allie, thanks for putting up with me. I know I haven’t been the easiest person to be around. I don’t know what I would have done without your help and support all week.”

  “It was my pleasure, Madison.”

  Madison stepped back and raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

  “Okay, maybe not at first.”

  Madison grinned. “I could tell. But I don’t blame you. After all I did to you . . .”

  I put my hand out.

  “Nuh-uh. You’re forgiven, remember? And, hey—maybe when I get moved into my new house, you could, you know, come over. And bring Petunia.”

  Madison crunched her eyebrows together. “You mean to hang out? As friends?”

  I smiled. “Sure, why not? That’s what we are, right?”

  Madison let out a big sigh. “Well, you tend to bond with a person when you’re shoved under a building with them for half a night.” Then she smiled and held out her hand to shake mine. “Friends.”

  Bliss sniffled in the background but then came over with a squirt of hand sanitizer for the both of us. “Three years of praying. See? I knew this year would be special.”

  We packed up, put our luggage outside our cabins, and headed down to the box. There was a whole lot of buzz going on down there.

  “Allie!” Hunter ran over and tugged on my sleeve. “Cabin Six has vanished!”

  “I know that, silly. It’s been gone for a long time. Zola’s still out there, looking for the last camper.”

  “No. I’m talking about boys’ Cabin Six! We slept overnight in the treehouse, and we returned to just a concrete slab! Good thing we had all our stuff with us, or the pranksters would have gotten away with my dinosaur pillowcase!”

  Boys’ Cabin Six? Gone?

  “Attention, campers!” Someone really needed to get Johan a new shirt. “We have a special guest this morning to say grace. Please give a warm welcome to our Camp Director, Miss Lindsey Roth.”

  We applauded loudly. Then Miss Lindsey took the bullhorn. “This is a very good morning, and I have some great news. Late last night, the governing board of Camp 99 Pines made an offer to buy the camp from Patterson Gables and he accepted. We’ll be signing the papers this afternoon, as soon as you all are checked out.”

  “Yeah,” Johan added. “So hurry up and get outta here!”

  Cheers erupted and kids stormed the top of the box to high-five Miss Lindsey.

  Johan got back on the bullhorn. “Get down, you rowdies! You’re messin’ up my shirt.”

  We got down. And then Miss Lindsey prayed.

  “Thank you, Lord, for your many blessings, but most of all, thank you for giving us new life in Jesus Christ. Be with everyone as they return home today and keep them safe all year. Encourage those who made first-time commitments to you here at Camp 99 Pines, and help us all to remember there is no problem too big for you to handle. We love you. In Jesus’ name, amen.”

  Then we ended with our last Doxology of the week:

  Praise God from whom all blessings flow;

  Praise Him all creatures here below;

  Praise Him above, ye Heavenly Host;

  Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. Amen.

  It was a sweet sound, with all the kids singing. But the best voice, the loudest one, singing every word this morning, belonged to Madison Doonsberry.

  “Can I help you with those bags?”

  Nathan Fremont was standing at the tree. The one right in front of the girls’ village. The one where he dropped me off at the beginning of the week.

  I smiled. “Hi.”

  I put my suitcase down.

  He smiled. “Hi.”

  Those dimples . . . again.

  “How did you like Jesus Swamp Camp?”

  “It was the best week of my life—except for the Parker snake-bite thing.”

  “I’m glad you didn’t get eaten by an alligator.”

  “My cabin got stolen though.”

  “But you were cabin champs.”

  Nathan laughed. “Yeah. It was also the weirdest week of my life.”

  “That’s how things go in the bayou.”

  “Then I kinda like the bayou.” Nathan grabbed the handle of my suitcase. “Can I take this to your car?”

  I shrugged. “In a minute.” Then I sighed to myself. “I owe you a headlamp.”

  I set my suitcase on the ground and unzipped it. Then I reached in the netted pouch and pulled out both—the pink one and the brown camo.

  “I guess they’re kinda tangled together.” I held them out to Nathan. “Do you mind?” I knew I wouldn’t be able to unknot them with my jittery, clammy fingers while he watched.

  “Sure.”

  Nathan worked a minute, and soon the two headlamps were separated. I held out my hand and waited for him to give me the pink one. He started to hand it over, but then . . . he gave me the brown one instead.

  “I was thinking,” he said and looked down at the ground and then back up at me. “Would you mind keeping . . . my headlamp . . . until . . . next time?”

  “Next time?” I fidgeted. And I suddenly felt like I needed ten puffs from my inhaler.

  “Yeah, next time. And I’ll keep yours—if that’s okay.”

  Say something, Allie. And whatever you do, don’t faint.

  I grinned and reached out for the beat-up brown headlamp with MATT 51415 scrawled on the strap.

  My most prized possession.

  “No, Dude. I don’t mind at all.”

  CHAPTER 30

  Timbuktu

  Moving day had finally arrived. I held the keys in my hand! Carroway trucks filled with boxes and furniture lined the street, and all my uncles, aunts, cousins, my dad and mom—followed me as I opened the door to our brand-new house on Timbuktu Court. Camera crews were there too—to film an episode of Carried Away with the Carroways entitled Moving to Timbuktu.

  “Take a breath, girl!” Dad smiled. “That’s an entryway free of allergens.”

  I breathed in deep. And then I sneezed, which caused laughter to erupt throughout the whole group.

  You can bet that’ll be in the show.

  “I’m sure I still have camp dirt up my nose,” I said.

  “Let’s go check out the backyard!” Hunter yelled.

  Aunt Kassie put her hand out. “Not yet, bucko. First, everyone takes at least three boxes to the correct rooms. And we labeled the
m all, so no guessing.”

  Our dogs ran through our legs and barked as we formed a train of moving boxes. And once we got started, we just kept going until Mamaw Kat, Papaw Ray, and Uncle Saul pulled up with lunch.

  “Who needs food?” Mamaw carried a pot of something that smelled yummy into the house.

  “Lunch break!” Our director, Zeke, put down his clipboard and went to help Mamaw with her pot. “Best food in Louisiana has arrived.”

  Papaw and Uncle Saul brought in more pots and casserole dishes of food and baskets of bread—and pies. They spread them out on our huge, new kitchen island.

  Dad came in from the backyard. “We set up some portable tables outside, so let’s pray in here and then go out and enjoy a little fresh air before we haul in the furniture.”

  Uncle Wayne groaned. “Aww, you don’t need furniture, do ya?”

  My whole family circled up, along with the film crew, Zeke, and our wardrobe manager, Hannah.

  “Try not to slop gumbo on your clothes,” she said.

  “Allie,” Dad said. “Would you like to say the first blessing in our new house?”

  I tried to swallow the big lump that had formed in my throat.

  “Yes, I would.”

  Everyone bowed their heads. And then a bunch of thoughts bombarded my mind all at once. The last nine months had seemed so long, but flew by at the same time. This time last year, Hunter wasn’t even part of the family yet. And we still had that old, moldy clubhouse—the Diva Duck Blind. I even thought my family was going to have to move to Arizona because of my allergies.

  Thank you, Lord, that you had a better plan.

  “Is something wrong Allie-gator?” Dad was smiling, and now everyone’s head was up and looking at me.

  “No, not at all. Everything is really good.”

  So, I prayed.

  “Father, thank you. For my family. For my home. For everything you provide. For working in my life. For showing me how to love people. But most of all, thank you for Jesus, and for the promise of heaven. Bless this food, and bless the people around this circle. In Jesus’ name, amen.

  “Hey, what’s that?” As we piled out the back door, Hunter pointed to a wooden building that sat up on blocks out on the large parcel of land behind our pool.

  “That’s my new duck blind,” Dad said.

  It was no duck blind.

  I shaded my eyes with my hand. “Is that what I think it is?”

  “Okay, it’s not a duck blind. Surprise! I thought you might like to have your very own Prayer Barn.” Dad came over and patted me on the shoulder. “I know how much you like the one at Mamaw’s house.”

  “That ain’t a duck blind, and it ain’t a Prayer Barn.” Uncle Saul smiled. “That there is a bless-ception!”

  I shoved my hands on my hips.

  “Wait just a minute, people. I heard Mamaw use that term at the gala. What’s a bless-ception?”

  “A bless-ception,” Papaw Ray said, “is a blessing, disguised as a deception.”

  “That can’t be a thing,” Kendall said.

  “Oh, it’s a Carroway thing,” Mom said. “Kat, Ray, and Saul invented it way back when they helped Audrey Gables sell girls’ Cabin Six. The money from that sale gave them the last bit of money they needed to pay the insurance, and it blessed the camp. But they decided to make up a story . . . a deception . . .”

  “Because it’s camp!” Kendall hit it right on the nose.

  Mamaw laughed. “Well, yes. Everyone loves a little mystery at camp, right? But, Audrey wanted us to keep the sale of the cabin a secret. You see, when they came up a little short of funds after the silent auction, Audrey knew that her husband Quincy would be too proud to ask people to give even more. But, she was a spunky one, and she was determined to keep Camp 99 Pines open.”

  “I wonder if she ever told Quincy where that last bit of money came from?”

  Mamaw came over and put her hand on my shoulder. “I don’t know, Allie-girl. But we can go visit her and ask. I’m sure she’ll remember every detail of that story, and she’d probably love to tell it, after all these years.”

  I smiled. “I’d love to.”

  Hunter scratched his head. “Is that boys’ Cabin Six out there?”

  Uncle Saul laughed. “Remember when I told you kids that God would stop all that camp sale nonsense? Well, I was right, wasn’t I? And we might have held another ‘silent’ silent auction last night, after the gala. But y’all better go see for yourself!”

  Hunter, Kendall, Lola, Ruby, and I ditched our full plates of food and ran toward the wooden building. We had to step up to get to the door. I climbed in first, and then reached back for Kendall. Everyone else followed.

  The cabin still had the bunks and mattresses in it. Five, in all. Two going down the long walls and one in the back on the short wall. And they had the same window configuration as all the other cabins, including Mamaw’s Prayer Barn.

  Hunter climbed up to the top of the bunk to the left of the door. He lay down and stared at the ceiling. “Yep, this is Cabin Six. There’s a pattern of wood knots on the ceiling that looks like a Stegosaurus. Check it out! I looked at that thing all week.” He showed us the wood knots, but we couldn’t make out a Stegosaurus.

  “Where did Parker sleep?” Kendall asked, and we all groaned.

  “Right below me,” Hunter said. And Kendall sat down on the mattress.

  “And Nathan slept right across from him, over there on the right lower bunk.”

  Thanks for that fun bit of information, Hunter!

  “I’m glad Parker’s going to be alright,” Kendall said. “That was one of the scariest moments ever.”

  “We’ve survived a lot of scary moments over the last few months. How about when Ruby almost got eaten by the gator? And when we dropped the water balloons to catch the Hollywoodlum? And when I accidentally ate that peanut?”

  “And when we thought you were moving to Arizona?” Kendall put her hand to her cheek.

  Lola shivered. “That was the worst. The Carroway cousins need to stay together—forever.”

  “I’m all for that,” I said. “I need you people in my life.”

  “Let’s make a deal,” Kendall said. “That even when we grow up and get married, we’ll live in the same neighborhood, and raise our kids here. Just think, they can meet in the Lickety Split clubhouse, we can tell them all our scary survival stories, and we can keep secrets about bless-ceptions so they can solve the mystery of the missing cabins.”

  “Sounds like a deal to me,” Ruby said.

  “Let’s stack hands on it.” Hunter jumped down from his bunk.

  “Okay, Carroway cousins forever, on three,” I said.

  We put our hands in the circle.

  “One, two, three . . . Carroway cousins forever!”

  “Hey,” I said. “We should go check the back of the cabin to make sure it has a circle with a B6 in the middle of it.”

  “I’m on it!” Hunter yelled, and he ran out the door with Kendall, Ruby, and Lola following close behind.

  I, however, stayed back. I wanted to take a minute to look around and thank God for my new Prayer Barn.

  This whole nine months has been crazy, God. Thanks for being with me through it all.

  I decided to sit on Nathan’s bed. I couldn’t help myself. The mattress was the lumpiest thing ever!

  Poor guy slept on this all week? He may never come back!

  I pulled the mattress down on the floor to check for holes. Maybe his bed had been broken too.

  Nope. All boards were intact. Just an old lumpy mattress.

  As I reached down to pull it back up on the wood frame, something caught my eye.

  Letters had been carved into the frame.

  I took my index finger and ran it over the fresh carvings. And my heart skipped a few beats when I figured out what it said:

  NF (B6)

  AC (G4)

  And there was a heart drawn in the middle.

  NF AC.

>   Nathan Fremont loves Allie Carroway?

  I put my hand over my heart, and my cheeks heated up.

  Well, Nathan Fremont, California Surfer Dude, if this is true, I hope you don’t mind living in the Louisiana Bayou someday with a princess in camo and a bunch of her cousins.

  Because I just made a deal.

  Let’s see where the Princess in Camo series all began! Here’s an excerpt from book one,

  Allie’s Bayou Rescue

  CHAPTER 1

  Change-up

  Allie, we need to talk. Some things are about to change around here!”

  Mom pulled a stool out from our kitchen island and patted the red plaid cushion for me to come and sit down. But hearing the word “change” stirred up my stomach and made me feel more like throwing up. Or doing a triple-backflip. Sometimes, when I get real nervous, I triple-flip and then throw up.

  But Mom was smiling, so this had to be a good change, right?

  I edged my way to the stool, and tried to think about the very best change that could possibly happen to me.

  “Did my latest allergy tests come back? Can I eat nuts now without having my tongue swell up to the size of a bullfrog?” That would be awesome. Just to have one “death food” off my list of, well . . . too many.

  Mom put her hand on my shoulder.

  “No, honey, you’re still allergic. The tests did come back, though, and we might have found what’s causing your asthma attacks.”

  Panic shot from my stomach to my throat.

  Please don’t say pasta. Please don’t say pasta. Please don’t say pasta.

  Mom scrunched up her nose.

  “It looks like mold’s a suspect.”

  “Mold?” I threw my hands up in the air. “That’s just great. We live in Floodsville, USA.”

  “Yes, I know. And we’ll have to work something out about that. But don’t you worry about it at all. For now, let’s talk about the big news of the day.”

  “Wait. Are you telling me that the big news of the day is bigger than finding out that living in Louisiana could kill me at any moment?”