“What’d you want, James? Am I in trouble, or did you just want permission to smoke?” Lucy asked.
“Your counselor Pam says you’re not cooperative. And that kind of stuff doesn’t go down too well in a boatyard.”
“Okay.” Lucy undid her life preserver and placed it back with the other ones, which hung from an old oar suspended from the ceiling by wires.
“Just okay? C’mon, I thought you’d have a better answer than that.”
“Okay,” Lucy said again, drawing the word out as a space between them. “Did Pam explain why she thinks I’m difficult? Pam thinks I’m not going along with camp spirit because I didn’t answer her lame hypothetical questions last night: Would you rather be a country road or a city street? A hand-knit shawl or a designer scarf? Do you know what it’s like to be put on the spot like that?”
James laughed. “Jesus, I didn’t know it’d be that bad.” He studied Lucy’s face for relief and, finding none, stood up and stretched. Lucy stood still.
And then suddenly from James, “You want to go into town? Billy from the main house can take over here, keep watch on Bethany and whatnot.”
“Sure,” Lucy said. She thought of the others trying to pass out of advanced beginner swimming and Bethany waiting for a sailing partner, and felt her pocket for her wallet.
She and James walked the dock in silence, then cut through the grassy circle of lawn by the lodge and headed in back to the counselors’ area, where campers had already been told not to go. James went inside his cabin and picked up his backpack while Lucy sat on the steps looking at the view of the other cabins from his porch.
“Ready?” he asked, walking to the staff parking area and not looking back. Lucy kept up pace and then suddenly sprinted to his truck. She had seen him in the yellow pickup the day before, driving and then unloading box after box of dry goods into the mess hall’s delivery entrance, and she recognized the truck right away.
“You’re a fast sprinter,” he said, out of breath.
“But I suck at long distance, so it’s okay,” Lucy said, laughing, about to open the door to the truck. For a second, she thought of her mother, and how Ginny hated the word suck. Lucy knew her mother’s reaction had less to do with the implication of anything sexual than with the word’s connotations of class, or lack thereof; it was the same reason Ginny preferred dollars over bucks, perspiration over sweat. Lucy realized she was, in fact, sweating, the slight trickle running from between her breasts down to her stomach. She tried to mat the dampness with her T-shirt while opening the door to the truck.
“Actually, we’re taking the camp van,” James said, heading to the stout brown van emblazoned with the camp’s shield on its sides.
James drove down the dirt road to the camp’s entrance and onto the semipaved road toward town, looking at Lucy as he took a tape from his backpack. Lucy’s mouth felt sticky with the kind of saliva it produced in the heat. James steered with his knee and turned up the volume of the tape deck, then Lucy sang along with the music. James raised his eyebrows.
“What are you doing knowing the words to English Beat songs?” he asked, amused and annoyed at the same time. Lucy almost made some comment about his being an English boy and wanting to be all special with his different music and different words, but she didn’t, because of the night before. She didn’t want to appear too witty for her own good.
“My older brother,” she said. “He’s into them and we listen…” Her voice trailed off. She had set up an unfortunate parallel between James and her brother—older, platonic—and hoped he didn’t notice.
“Well, now, there you go,” James said and lit up. He drove with the window down and his arm all the way outside. The only time she saw his left hand was when he took a drag.
“You know,” Lucy said, “just because you keep the butt out the window doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist. We both know it’s there. It really doesn’t bother me.”
“I don’t want your clothes to reek when we get back, Lucy.” There was a no-smoking policy at Lenox, although later, in July, Beatrice and Double would get caught behind the cabin with a pack of Salems, one of them lit. The rest of the girls would joke at first; get busted for real, at least, with Camels or Marlboros.
In the town of Marshville, which consisted of a bar, a post office, a bank, and a country store, James and Lucy got two Cokes from the machine by the closed-down gas station and sat on the roof of the van. The buildings looked like facades, the kind she’d seen in Hollywood—whole fake Western villages with swinging saloon doors and empty, horseless carriages. She wished for a minute she and James were there—inhabiting the general store, she in a hoopskirt and bonnet, James with a holster and a horse that could lead them anywhere.
In Marshville, nobody was around, so they blasted music and James let bits of information about himself leak out as they watched their Coke bottles sweat in the sun. He was from London, the son of academics, one of three kids, his sisters were older. He had taken his gap year between school and university to travel and work his way around the world, and landed the job at Lenox through a friend in New York who had been the nanny for the camp owner’s kids. All of these details he told her laughing, as if he couldn’t believe he was really in America, sitting on a van with someone called Lucy, some girl he might never had met.
James looked at her and brushed something off her shoulder. “Just a bug,” he said. Later, in August, they would sit on the roof of the main lodge, looking down at the lake where an all-camp barbecue smoked and music played, and James would offer Lucy a cigarette and, again, brush some insect from its perch on her arm.
By the time they drove through the camp gates, it was rest period. The boys had arrived earlier, and Lucy had missed it. James and Lucy walked to the main lodge.
“See you at cookout,” he said.
“Yup.” She nodded and walked through the staggered pines and thick green back to the girls’ cabin. Inside, she kicked off her shoes by the door and went to her bunk. Beatrice and Bethany were sleeping. Heidi was writing a letter. Doublemint came over and sat next to Lucy.
“Where were you?” they asked at the same time.
“I had to go into town,” she said and reached for her journal.
From her bed, Bethany, not moving from lying with her hands behind her head, loudly said, “Lucy and Boat Counselor are so close.”
“His name’s James,” Lucy said and wished for a retraction.
Heidi put her pen down and looked at Lucy. “Are you gonna do it with him?” This would be the first question Heidi asked of anyone during the course of the summer, staff or camper, even on parents’ weekend.
Before Lucy could think up a reply, Pam came in with a stack of mail. Instead of handing letters and packages out quietly, she stood in the doorway and read the names aloud, calling attention to whoever was the unlucky person not receiving anything. Pam took pride in her mail delivery role, the power that being messenger brought. That day, Beatrice got a package of crystallized ginger and a letter from her aunt in Maine, who was a ceramics teacher and didn’t believe in candy.
Beatrice and Lucy sat on the edge of Lucy’s bed, eating the ginger.
“My parents are abroad for the whole summer,” she said. “Would you let me read the letter from your parents?” Lucy puzzled at the thought of this providing comfort since Beatrice had never met or seen her mother and father, but Lucy agreed.
“Okay, everyone,” Pam shouted. “Get up, get ready, it’s time for camp meeting and then the cookout.” Lucy looked at the girls. They scurried around, trying on miniskirts and sundresses. She and Gabrielle were dressed first. Lucy slid into her jeans and T-shirt, and went to brush her hair. Gabrielle was putting on blue eye shadow and curling her lashes.
“Looks like an implement of torture,” Lucy said as Gabrielle squeezed the metal-hinged tool in front of her eye.
“But it works great. See the difference? You should try it,” Gabrielle said and then, “You want to borrow a top?
I mean, not that the T-shirt’s bad, but maybe my green one?”
Lucy let Gabrielle lead her by the hand to her cubbyhole, where her folded shirts and jeans were stacked in perfect piles. Gabrielle pulled out a soft cotton shirt the color of moss and handed it to Lucy.
“Thanks,” Lucy said, taking off her T-shirt and slipping into Gabrielle’s shirt.
“There.” Gabrielle studied her. Doublemint, Heidi, and Bethany walked by and paused to wait for them, watching in approval as Gabrielle adjusted Lucy’s hair.
Inside the lodge, it was hot and windless. The boys had already filed in and taken seats on the floor. The small sets of bleachers to the side of the room were empty except for a few counselors, so Pam sat the girls there. Some speeches were made about fun and expectations for the summer, trips to the beach, and the camp musical, which would be Guys and Dolls, and it was announced that each Friday night, after sports, there would be a dance. Gabrielle and Heidi nudged each other. Doublemint giggled. Lucy surveyed the boys for a potential partner. She noticed one boy, dark-haired and tall, who motioned to his friend when he saw her looking in their direction. They looked at the girls, and the girls looked back; Bethany whispered to Minty, and they laughed loudly. Pam turned around to quiet them. The boys talked and then shoved each other until Big Henry, the woodworking instructor, came and led them outside for a lecture.
Through the screen windows that lined the walls of the lodge, Lucy had a view of the lake. She could see a figure walking the sandy grass toward the docks. As the speeches ended, she looked again. Out on the water, the white sails of one of the boats curved into the wind, and she pictured James steering the boat, wishing herself there.
On Thursday night before bed, Pam called the girls into her nighttime circle.
“Girls,” she said, “the social is tomorrow. I know you’re excited, but remember, they’re only boys, and it’s only one night.” That first Friday dance fell on the summer solstice. When Lucy thought of not being asked to dance, she would remind herself of two things: she wouldn’t be the only one, and, she didn’t really like to dance anyway.
With some surprise, she found herself one of the first being asked to dance. Only the senior boys were there, which still provided a ratio in favor of the girls, but it was thrilling. Brian walked over and said something like congratulations on the part in the play. She had tried out by singing the main song, even though it’s meant to be sung by a guy. Lucy knew only the men’s vocals because her brother, Jacob, had once played Nathan Detroit and she’d helped him learn the words. Brian and Lucy danced two songs, and then she walked back to talk to Double, who wasn’t dancing with anyone.
“I think Brian likes you, Lucy,” Double said, smiling.
“Really?”
“Look,” she said. “Heidi’s already glued to Cory. I bet she likes him ’cause he’s the best basketball player.”
“Maybe,” Lucy said and leaned against the wall. Across the room was the boy she had seen at the camp meeting.
“That’s Flip,” explained Double. “He’s been going here since he was six. Cute, huh?”
Flip and his shoving partner, Eddie, walked over to the girls, and Lucy and Double took their cue to dance the slow song. Flip linked his hands around Lucy’s back, and she rested her hands on his shoulders.
“Lucy, you play soccer, right? I bet you and that Bethany girl are gonna fight over who gets captain.”
“We both play,” Lucy said, wondering why he couldn’t have asked anything more romantic. “We’ll have to see who gets it.”
Lucy danced with Flip the rest of the night. Bethany and Brian had gone outside and were led back in by Pam, who found them making out by the pottery shed, shirts untucked. Flip walked Lucy back to the cabin, and they stood outside in the dark for a half hour talking. The whole night seemed too long.
As Flip finally turned to go, he paused. “You’re pretty cool. I mean, to talk to,” he said. And then, Lucy imagined because he knew he could, Flip stood closer to her. When they kissed, she felt as if she was standing next to herself watching it happen. It occurred to her then that kissing and being kissed were two different things. And being kissed by someone you’ve really wanted to is something else again.
Lucy was never asked to dance for the rest of the time at Camp Lenox, but for the next couple of weeks, Flip would meet her after the Guys and Dolls rehearsals and they’d walk to the mess hall for dinner, sometimes with his arm draped over her shoulder like a damp towel. Lucy went to his baseball games, and he watched her archery competition against Camp Windmere, after which Lucy sent her blue ribbon home in hopes her mother would feel satisfied and her father proud.
During free time Lucy would go to the Sail Shack and talk with James before taking out a Sunfish or helping clean the undersides on the sloops that were up for repairs. One afternoon, as she was walking to the dock, Heidi and Bethany called to her from the lodge. They were playing Ping-Pong with Cory and Brian while Doublemint watched.
“Come on up,” Heidi said. Cory and Brian shouted in agreement.
“Hey, Lucy,” Bethany called, using her hands like a megaphone, “Flip’s inside, you better come up.” Lucy debated. Flip emerged from the lodge and came halfway down the steps.
“You going sailing again?” he asked.
“I’m supposed to,” she said.
“Supposed to? It’s free time, you can do what you want. Do you want to go sailing or do you want to hang out here?”
She wanted to go sailing; wanted to rig the boat, cast off lines, and find her way to the middle of the lake and swim. She walked over to Flip. He took her hand. Then Lucy kicked her heels against the chipped pointing on the lodge wall while she watched Flip beat Cory five games in a row, and then it was time for dinner.
As the campers ate red pineapple cubes encased in red Jell-O, Lucy looked for James. He was laughing with the other counselors and had his face turned to Susie, the head of the lower camp. Lucy looked away.
That night, Lucy lay in bed listening to the distant bug-zapping machine near the infirmary and counting Beatrice’s snores, waiting to leave. In shorts and a T-shirt, Lucy crept out the screen door and walked in the dark down the path to the lake. The light of the Sail Shack was on, and she looked inside the window to where James sat shirtless, reading by the light of an old brass lantern. She knocked on the window. He flinched and got up to open the door.
“Why on earth are you out of bed-bed?” he asked. Lucy didn’t know if bed-bed was an English term or an exaggerated reference to her age.
“No possibility of sleeping,” she explained. James grabbed his book, turned the light down, and came outside. They sat on the edge of the dock with their feet in the water as he smoked.
“I thought maybe you’d send me back to the cabin,” she said.
“If you’d really thought that, you’d have gone somewhere else.”
“I guess that’s true,” she said. Lucy reached for James’s cigarette, and he didn’t stop her from taking it.
After a couple of drags she handed it back. “So.” She exhaled. “You like Susie?”
“Sure, she’s nice.” He laughed. James hoisted himself up from the dock and went into the water. Lucy watched him swim a couple of strides. “You coming in?” he asked.
“How much do you like her?” she asked and stood up. Then she dove in and surfaced.
“I like her a bit,” he said. They floated on their backs and looked up at the cloudy sky.
“It’s going to rain tomorrow,” Lucy said.
“I know.” James paused. His held his palms so they barely touched the water’s surface. “You know, Lucy, you are a lot younger than I am.”
“You were barely five years old when I was born.” Lucy didn’t look at him.
“And that’s a lot. I see you with Flip. Do you like him?”
Lucy lay still, floating on her back, and felt a tear go down her face into the water. “A bit.”
When they got out of the water, James
went inside the Sail Shack, took his rolled up T-shirt from the desktop, and threw it at Lucy.
“You can get changed behind the life raft,” he said.
After Fourth of July carnival, Beatrice and Double got caught smoking in back of the cabin while the rest of the girls were taking off their sweat-slicked shin pads and cleats on the field. Double had to call her parents and tell them herself, then wait to be picked up. Minty cried harder than anyone.
“Kimberly,” Pam said, and Double followed her out the door. They had forgotten her real name, so having it be the last thing she was called startled the girls into silence. Beatrice’s parents couldn’t be reached, so Beatrice got to stay, but she couldn’t go on any trips with her bunkmates and had to miss the midsummer party on the baseball field.
When the crack of the fireworks started, Lucy was in the dugout, watching people.
Flip sat down next to her. “Hey,” he said.
“Hi.”
“I think,” he said, not looking at her, “we’d be better off being friends.”
“Why?” she asked. Lucy wasn’t surprised. She knew Brian had broken up with Bethany, and Bethany wanted Flip. Lucy didn’t feel particularly sad about it, except when she realized Flip wouldn’t kiss her anymore. She’d gotten used to his kisses, his long fingers getting tangled in her hair, and Lucy kissed him one more time so he would remember it.
“Well,” he said. Lucy knew she could have kept kissing him, held him there, but she backed away, trying to show enough hurt to make him feel important.
“I gotta go,” he said.
The noise of the fireworks filled the space of the field. Groups of campers sat on blankets and watched the lights and drips of color as they ate melting Hoodsies ice-cream cups and orange Creamsicles. Lucy walked past them and toward the cabin. In the woods were two people pressed up against a tree. Lucy recognized James’s red shorts before she saw the other person, but once the laughter was audible, she knew it was Susie. Lucy watched them for a moment and then went inside.
The Girls' Almanac Page 9
