Camp Life

by Lucinda Maison

  “OK, I won’t, if you don’t want me to,” she agreed quickly.

  Dara turned to Corinne. “Promise you won’t say anything?”

  “Of course,” Corinne said lightly.

  Chapter 16

  The Rockman Cometh

  Teddy scooted along on his belly, peering into the darkness under the cabin. “Rocky!” he hissed. “Do you see him?”

  There was silence and then a curious sound that started as a high whine, turned into a low growl, and ended on an ear-splitting single-note bark, followed by frantic scrabbling noises. As Teddy strained to see, his eyes widened and he rolled to the side just in time to get out of the way as a squirrel flew past him out from under the cabin, Rocky right on his tail.

  As Teddy lay on his back, breathing hard, he heard the cabin door slam and an irritated female voice exclaiming, “What the...?” before trailing off. Footsteps approached and a halo of frizzy blonde hair blocked out the morning sun.

  “What are you doing down there?” Corinne demanded. “And why are you doing it so loudly? People are trying to sleep around here, you know!”

  Teddy sat up slowly. “I almost got run over by a squirrel!” he said earnestly.

  “Well, that makes perfect sense.”

  Teddy was not very old, but he knew irony when he heard it. “It’s true!” he insisted. “Rocky chased a squirrel under here and had him trapped for awhile. The squirrel...”

  “Who’s Rocky?” she interrupted. “Your imaginary friend?”

  “No!” Teddy replied indignantly. “Rocky is the best dog in the world. He and Cal are buddies, and he’s my buddy, too.”

  “That dog with the rabbit ears? Great. Just keep him away from my cabin, would ya?”

  Teddy nodded his head solemnly, rubbing his arm and then wincing.

  Corinne had half turned to go back inside, but she saw Teddy’s face and turned back. “You OK, buddy? Did you hurt yourself?”

  Teddy was looking down at his arm, gingerly pulling up the grimy sleeve of his t-shirt. He noticed the usual dirt streaks, scratches, and scrapes, but there was also a small hole bleeding sluggishly. Corinne took his arm in her hand and gently turned it to get a better look at the puncture. “Hmmm. Looks like you landed on something sharp.”

  Teddy’s breath caught as she put a little pressure on one side of the wound and tried to see inside. “Uh oh.” She compressed her lips and shook her head.

  “What??” he breathed.

  “I think there’s an Indian arrowhead stuck in there,” Corinne stated. Teddy frowned. “Either that or the tip of a velociraptor claw. Come on, we better get you to your mom so she can do surgery.”

  Teddy grinned slowly, his small face lighting with pleasure. Getting into the spirit of things, he claimed “It’s not an arrowhead or a velociraptor claw. It’s a sabre-toothed tiger fang!”

  Corinne’s mouth quirked up on one side. “What was I thinking?” she said as she walked with him up the hill. “I should have known it wasn’t a velociraptor claw. That was just plain silly. Good thing you know your prehistoric animal parts.”

  He chuckled then, an infectious sound that caused Corinne to grin widely as they approached the lodge. She handed him over to Lauren, who had come to the entry, and laughed softly to herself when she heard Teddy tell Lauren proudly, “I got a sabre-tooth tiger fang in my arm!”

  Lauren looked thoughtfully at Corinne’s retreating back, then turned to usher Teddy to his mother. “I hate it when that happens,” she told him.

  Corinne had intended to go back to the cabin and back to bed, but found herself wandering farther down the hill. She found a nice spot under a tree by the pond. The grass was already flattened and she sat crosslegged with her back to the tree and closed her eyes. Only a few minutes had gone by when she felt something cold pressed to her knee and opened her eyes with a start. She found herself confronted by large brown eyes, topped by a pair of magnificent ears.

  Corinne snorted. “Oh, it’s you. Mighty squirrel hunter. No luck, huh, or did you already eat him?”

  Rocky continued to watch her, opening his mouth and allowing a long pink tongue to loll out the side as he panted gently.

  “You know, a little Listermint now and then wouldn’t hurt you.”

  He widened his jaws in a prodigious yawn, then closed his mouth with a snap.

  Corinne yawned, too. “I know the feeling. In fact, it’s your fault. You woke me up way too early.” She reached down and lazily scratched the brindled fur between his ears. Rocky flopped down and sighing, rested his head on her knee. Corinne leaned back against the tree again and let her eyes drift shut.

  “I know we might not be able to spot any during the day, but I still want to have a look,” Jake insisted as they drew closer to the pond.

  “Worth a try,” responded Jim agreeably.

  They pulled up short when they saw the two figures sprawled beneath the tree, but it was too late. Both heads came up, one wild blonde curls, the other wiry brownish fur, and both looked reproachfully at the boys.

  “Is it too much to ask to get some sleep around here?” Corinne grumbled, rubbing her eyes dramatically. But Rocky had spotted Jake, apparently recognizing him with approval from the night before; he scrambled up and trotted over to him, once more going up on his stubby hind legs to place over-sized paws on Jake’s shins.

  “Hi, buddy,” Jake said, reaching down to gently pull his ears. “This is Rocky.” Jake straightened and turned toward Jim.

  “I know. We met yesterday, sort of. He was chasing a squirrel.”

  Corinne cocked an eyebrow at Rocky, but didn’t say anything.

  “He’s some type of bitzer,” Jim continued. “A mongrel, I mean”.

  “I know,” responded Jake. “Schnauzer-corgi mix, I think.”

  Jim had been staring at Rocky with a slight frown. At Jake’s words, the frown cleared and he snapped his fingers. “Yeah, that’s it! I can see the corgi now.”

  “You two just go on talking like I’m not here, that’s just fine with me,” Corinne interjected. “Of course, it would have been better if you’d decided to have a conversation somewhere where I wasn’t trying to take a nap, but hey, can’t have everything, can you?

  Jake looked down at Corinne with a slight curl to his lip, but Jim broke in with an apology. “Sorry about that. We came down to see if we could see any frogs or toads. Have you seen any?”

  “Tough to do with your eyes closed. And if they’re here, they haven’t been noisy, like some people I could name. I suppose if any did show their faces, they’d be toast if the Rockinator spotted them.”

  Rocky stared up at Jake with a look that clearly said, “Who, me?” Jake suppressed a smile. He felt some surliness slip away and heaved a regretful sigh. “I saw you last night at dinner,” he offered. “I’m Jake. This is Jim.”

  Jim nodded a greeting.

  “Corinne,” she said, nodding back warily.

  Jake waited for Corinne’s stream of consciousness verbal diarrhea to burst, but nothing happened. He looked at her curiously. Jake surprised himself by blurting out what came to mind. “You’re different this morning. You’re usually so...um...” He searched for a tactful phrase, again surprising himself, and came up with “chatty…Cranky this morning, but not chatty.”

  Corinne sat up a little straighter, her eyes shifting with a brief hunted look. “Gimme a break, I’m sleep-deprived here.” She pushed herself off the ground. “C’mon, Rock, let’s blow this joint, get outta Dodge, make like a banana...These guys need some male-bonding time.” She pushed past Jim and Jake, and narrowly missed stepping into the pond. Rocky looked from Jake to Corinne, then gave a little hop over the edge of the pond and followed Corinne back up the hill.

  Corinne glanced back once to see if he was following, then continued marching up the slope to her cabin. As she stepped over the threshold, she was relieved to find the cabin empty. Turning back to shut the door, she noticed Rocky standing just outside, wa
tching her expectantly.

  “Please come in, dear sir!” she invited, with exaggerated formality and a bow.

  Rocky blinked solemnly and strode past her. Launching himself on to her bunk, he nosed a blanket aside, scratched the sheets, turned in a tight circle, scratched the sheets again, and repeated this process until finally collapsing on the bed with a satisfied sigh.

  Corinne watched the whole show, as her blanket fell to the floor and the sheets became a tangled mess. “Comfy?” she inquired.

  Rocky rested his head on his paws, rabbit ears at attention. She smiled ruefully and tugged gently on one of his ears. “You are something else, kiddo. I’m going to take a shower, so you hold down the fort, OK?”

  Rocky sighed again and closed his eyes. “I’ll take that as a Yes,” Corinne said, as she grabbed some clean clothes and headed for the bathroom.

  Dressed in capris with wide black and purple stripes, a red cami, and a long pink v-necked tee, Corinne was working curl tamer into her hair when someone knocked on the door. After a last despairing glance in the mirror, she pulled open the door to find Cal, his red striped board shorts, turquoise tee, and orange beanie ever more jarring than her own outfit. “Hey, nice beanie!” she exclaimed admiringly. “I wish I could wear one of those, but…” she broke off, pointing at her rioting blonde curls “…I don’t think it’s physically possible to get one to stay on my head.”

  Cal smiled his slow grin, which widened when he noticed Rocky. The dog hadn’t budged from the bed, but his tongue now lolled in a happy face. “I went looking for him down by the pond and Jim and Jake told me he was with you. Do you know both of them?”

  “Jake sat by me at dinner last night. Jim I think I just met by the pond. Tall, surfer hair, has trouble pronouncing “squirrel”?” Corinne ventured.

  “Yup, that’s him. I think “squirrel” comes out a little differently in Australian,” Cal laughed. “Jim spent some time here before it was a camp. Nice kid…good listener, too,” he added, somewhat cryptically. He paused, pointing his chin at Rocky. “Is he OK here, or do you want me to take him with me?” he asked, thinking he already knew the answer.

  Corinne looked back at the dog curled comfortably on her bunk. “Oh, he’s alright, I guess,” she said, with a casual air.

  “If you’re planning on going to any of the morning sessions, you can leave him with me, and then come find him when it’s over, if you want. It’s obvious he’s happy hanging out with you.”

  Corinne had blanched at the thought of going back for another of those sessions, but all she said was “No, I don’t guess I’ll be going to any activities this morning. Me and Rock will just hang, if it’s OK with you,” she said, not looking at him.

  “Fine with me, but if you aren’t busy, maybe you’d like to help me with a little project I’ve got going. Do you mind getting dirty?”

  “Well, that depends. Are we talking clean dirty or gross dirty?” she asked, wrinkling her nose.

  “I’d call it clean dirty, but you still might want to change into something you don’t mind getting muddy.”

  “OK,” she agreed cautiously.

  “Good,” Cal said briskly. “I could really use the help. Meet me over by the fire pit after you’ve changed, and I’ll show you the project. He turned on his heels, his long legged gait carrying him swiftly across the slope. Rocky got up and made a few more circles, then plopped down in the middle of her pillow.

  “Make yourself at home, why don’t ‘cha?” Corinne asked him.

  Rocky trotted jauntily ahead of Corinne, leading her to Cal, who was standing a bit downhill from the fire pit, staring at the ground. Corinne had changed into Utah Jazz basketball trunks, a very faded Lizzie McGuire t-shirt, and ratty plaid Converse low-tops. She came up beside Cal and looked down, too. They were standing on the edge of a large, tarp-lined pit. Next to the pit were two mounds of dirt, a shovel stuck upright in the middle of each pile. A hose snaked into the pit, a slow trickle moistening the very bottom.

  “I think I like the pool you’ve already got better,” she remarked.

  “Wise guy,” he responded goodnaturedly. “Are you ready to get dirty, or not?”

  “Yeah, I’m up for it, but some clue about what it is would be good.” She looked doubtfully at the dirt piles. Rocky had taken one look over the edge of the pit, then retreated to a nearby tree, where he stretched out on one side and closed his eyes.

  “First, we’re each going to grab a shovel and start loading up this hole.” He yanked one of the shovels free and handed it to her, along with a pair of hot pink suede gardening gloves. “Thought you’d like the pink ones,” he teased, pulling on a pair of pigskin gauntlet gloves for himself.

  Corinne admired the gloves, thinking if you had to do manual labor, doing it in style was a good thing. She wondered if they came with a matching tool belt. So many possibilities…

  “This pile here,” Cal pointed, interrupting her pink reverie, “is sand. The one next to you is clay. I’ve been experimenting for a couple of weeks now to get the right ratio, which happens to be 2 to 1. So I’ll throw in 2 shovelfuls of sand and you add one of clay. Got it?”

  Corinne nodded. Nice day for making mud pies, she thought. And way better than sitting in the lodge having a stare-down with someone.

  Cal dug his shovel in and threw sand into the pit. Corinne waited until after he’d done a second shovelful before tilting in a shovelful from the clay pile. They repeated the process until there was quite a mound in the pit and Corinne had started to think longingly of the real pool. She swiped at a bead of sweat that was getting ready to roll down the right side of her face, about to beg Cal for a break.

  “That looks good!” he declared happily. He motioned her over to the tree where Rocky still snoozed, and rested his hand on a cooler she hadn’t noticed. Cal lifted up the lid and peering inside, asked her “Water, Coke, or lemonade?”

  “Coke,” Corinne gasped, collapsing on the ground in the shade, her back against the tree. Cal handed her the can and she quickly popped the top, drinking deeply and gratefully.

  Cal cooled off his forehead with a bottle of Dasani, before opening it and downing half. He sighed and reached a hand out to Rocky, who had lifted his head off the ground, his expression one of tolerance. Cal’s fingers scratched along the sturdy belly, and Rocky turned over, all 4 legs in the air.

  “You do good work, Miss Corinne,” he praised. “I’m glad to have your help.” He squinted at her as he lifted the bottle to his lips again. “Figured out what we’re doing, yet?”

  “Easy,” Corinne replied, taking another cooling sip of soda, then laughing as a small belch escaped her. “Sorry, not used to soda,” she explained sheepishly. “We’re making a mud wrestling pit, right?”

  “No mud wrestling,” Cal said shortly. “What do you mean you’re not used to soda? Are you a teenager, or not?”

  “My mother wouldn’t allow it in the house. She had us do this experiment where you drop a nail into a glass of Coke and let it sit for days, and the nail is supposed to dissolve. No Coke, no soda period, no candy, even at Halloween or Easter…after she left, my little sister went way overboard. Ate every sweet thing she could get her hands on. Good thing she got tired of it before she weighed 300 pounds.” Corinne took another swallow of Coke. “Me, I don’t have it often, even though I can have it whenever I want now…”she trailed off, looking uncharacteristically somber.

  “What happened?” Cal asked gently.

  She didn’t ask him what he meant. Without looking up, she began to stroke the wiry fur on Rocky’s side. “My mom and dad…I don’t know how they ever ended up married, but it wasn’t pretty. I mean, they didn’t yell or fight or anything, they just didn’t seem to like each other much, and they had, like, nothing in common.”

  Rocky heaved a sigh and rolled farther over to give better access to his belly. Corinne obliged, working her fingers into the coarse fur. She glanced up at Cal, then returned her gaze to Rocky.
“You know how they say opposites attract? Don’t buy it.” she finished a little bitterly.

  “What happened?” Cal repeated.

  “Oh, she found this other guy and moved out. We…my sister and I…see her a few times a year, but mostly we live with our dad. My mom’s new husband…our step-dad, I guess you could call him,” she added with a grimace, “he’s pretty much awful. You try and talk to him and it’s like he doesn’t even hear. Like he has ideas about stuff and nothing you say will change his mind.”

  “Uh-huh. And your mom?” Cal prompted.

  “She’s happier and I’m glad for her…but I sure wouldn’t want to live with them.” She looked up then and Cal thought it was as if someone had thrown a switch. He saw the slightly manic grin transform her face, as she chirped, “But, hey, that’s my oh-so-sad story, broken home, boo-hoo for me...” With a high, forced laugh, she pushed herself off the ground. “Are we going to finish this what-ever-the-heck-it-is, or not?” she demanded, brushing off the Jazz shorts and pulling on her pink gloves.

  Cal got up, too, groaning slightly. “Oh, no, I made the old man sound when I got up. Bad sign.”

  “C’mon, old man. We’ve got work to do,” she declared, marching off to the pit.

  Cal took a last swig of water and loped to catch up with her. “We’ve got enough dirt, for now. We need to add more water until it gets kind of soupy. I’m going to turn up the hose for a couple of minutes, then we’ll see what it looks like.”

  He walked over to the spigot and cranked the knob a couple of times. Corinne grabbed the hose and squirted the pit, until the water slowed to a dribble and Cal returned.

  “Looks good. Now for the fun part,” he told her, looking mischievous. “Are you ready to get dirty?”

  “Get dirty? I thought that’s what we were already doing.” Puzzled, she watched him drag off his shoes and socks.

  “Well? Get your shoes and socks off!” he urged, clapping his hands.

  Light dawned as she looked down into the pit. “No…you’re not serious!” she exclaimed, staring wide eyed at him.

  Cal just smiled. Suddenly, her eyes brightened. “You’re on, man!” She toed off her Converse, and since she hadn’t been wearing any socks, stood in her bare feet on the rim of the pit.