Revenge of the Happy Campers

by Jennifer Ziegler

  “It’s true,” I agreed.

  “All the time,” Dawn said.

  “Aww …” Aunt Jane threw her arms around us and pulled us a few inches closer. “You girls are the best. And the point I’m making with all this is that it’s okay to need a break from family. But never forget how lucky you are to have one another.”

  That was when our gazes moved from Aunt Jane to each other. I’m not sure who said it first, maybe Darby. Maybe Dawn. It might even have been me. But suddenly we were all saying, “Sorry!”

  “We can do better,” Darby said.

  “We can survive this,” Dawn said.

  “If we managed to peacefully coexist in the womb,” I said, “we should be able to share a trailer.”

  We got up from the bench and did a group hug — one of those big, squeezy hugs where you shut your eyes and hold on tight. And after a while, the feel of your arms on the other people — and their arms on you — sort of blends, until it seems like you’ve been fused together.

  United.

  Finally, it stopped raining.

  When I opened my eyes the next morning, everything seemed brighter and the birds sounded like they were catching up on gossip after a long break. I unzipped the flap on the window beside my bunk in order to check the weather.

  The first thing I saw was a big furry nose.

  “Mo!”

  He hee-hawed at me and shook his head, so I figured he was begging for some food. I was about to call to Delaney and tell her to sneak him a carrot stick when her face appeared next to him. I should have known she’d already be up.

  “You and Darby need to get dressed and come on outside,” she said. “Aunt Jane is treating us to breakfast at HQ. They have hot chocolate and everything. And she said I could give Mo another apple.” Her fast talking blended in with the bird twitters.

  Normally, I find Delaney’s loud chatter annoying in the morning, but I was still feeling guilty after our big argument the day before.

  I had already known, inside my brain, that my sisters and I wouldn’t always be together. But it wasn’t until Aunt Jane talked about how hard it was to be across the country from Mom that I actually felt it. The thought of being far away from Darby and Delaney for long stretches of time gave me a jittery sensation — cold and lonely and slightly panicked. Like when I’m playing Marco in Marco Polo and everyone seems too unreachable.

  I shook Darby awake and we headed outside. Mo had already wandered off by the time we got out there, and Aunt Jane was putting some supplies back into the van. Apparently, she’d been hard at work clearing our site of twigs and other debris that fell during the rain, and she got rid of as much standing water as she could, so that mosquitos wouldn’t breed in it. She also took down our tent. I felt a little twinge of regret as I saw all the pieces laid out to dry in the sun — but also a whole lot of relief.

  I took a moment to admire Aunt Jane for being so diligent and even-tempered. Maybe when I became president, I should offer her a spot in my cabinet, as well as make her an advisor.

  “You gals ready for some grub?” she asked. “I figured we’d eat out today instead of cooking it here. But first thing’s first.” She took off her work gloves and set them on the picnic table. “Can’t forget the guidelines.”

  Aunt Jane headed over to the grassy area and did a perfect cartwheel. Darby, Delaney, and I applauded and then, one by one, did our own.

  “Now off we go,” Aunt Jane said. As she started down the path to HQ, the rest of us looked at each other.

  “After you,” I said sweeping my arm toward the path.

  “Why, thank you,” Darby said. “Watch out for this mud puddle.”

  “Thank you very much,” Delaney said. “Let me hold this branch out of the way.”

  We were like that the entire way, saying “please” and “thank you” and warning each other of potential threats. I complimented Delaney on getting up early and Darby complimented her on her great relationship with Mo. Delaney complimented Darby for being such a quiet sleeper and I complimented her on getting dressed so quickly. Then Darby complimented me on my posture, and Delaney complimented me on never confusing capital (with an A) with capitol (with an O), since she always gets those confused.

  We hadn’t had a fight among all three of us in a long time. When it happens, it’s scary and we end up on our best behavior afterward. I wondered if Aunt Jane’s reminder that we wouldn’t always be living under the same roof — or tent — had unnerved the two of them as much as it did me.

  “Good morning!” Mrs. Kimbro sang out when she saw us. She stood behind the food counter, waving at us with a dish towel.

  “Good morning, Mrs. Kimbro!” we chorused.

  “Hello, young ladies!” came another voice. We turned to see Mr. Bartholomew smiling at us. “I recommend the hash browns,” he said in a low voice. Then he put on his fishing hat, tipped it to us, and headed out the screen door.

  Mrs. Kimbro told us that Mr. Bartholomew came every spring for two weeks. “It’s our regulars like Ned who keep us afloat,” she said to Aunt Jane, spreading bacon in a pan. “But they can’t come forever. And we’ve already had one family pack up and leave, on top of three other cancellations because of the rain.”

  Aunt Jane started sharing stories of when business was bad at her tavern in Boston and how once, when her savings ran out, she sold some belongings to make extra money — including a basketball autographed by all the former Houston Comets.

  It felt a little like we were eavesdropping, even though we weren’t trying to. So when our plates were ready, I suggested we take them out to the patio area.

  The big covered deck was empty except for us, so we snagged the table with the best view. The lake sparkled in the sunlight, and it looked like someone had swept every wisp of cloud from the sky. I took a deep breath of fresh air and slowly let it out.

  Somehow I’d been erased of bad stuff — just like our campsite and the wild blue yonder above us. Those angry thoughts and feelings I’d had seemed to have washed away.

  After we settled into our seats and got past all the “after yous” and “please pass the salts” and “thank you very muches,” I leaned forward and said, “Troops, I think maybe we should have a meeting. An official one.”

  We waited as Darby fetched paper and pencil so she could take minutes.

  “First things first,” I said once she was back. “Let’s have a motion to ban all secret meetings forever more.”

  Delaney raised her hand. “I move that from here on out, all meetings must involve all three of us.”

  “I second it,” Darby said.

  I banged my fist on the table three times. “Motion passes. Good job. And … I’m sorry.”

  “I’m sorry, too.”

  “I’m sorry three.”

  “Also” — I paused to take a breath and swallow a lump in my throat — “I want you to know that I never want to move far away and that I like being around you guys — even when you drive me nuts.”

  “Me too.”

  “Me three.”

  We smiled at each other — and our smiles were sad and proud at the same time.

  “But you know,” Darby added, “we won’t be far apart — at least not for long. Because we’ll all end up in Washington D.C. working hard for this great country.”

  “Maybe we could even share a house,” Delaney suggested, hopping in her seat.

  “We could share the White House!” I said.

  Everyone agreed that would be the best plan.

  We sat and ate our food in peaceful silence for a while. I felt much better after our talk, but I still had a nagging sensation at my center. Even though things were settled among me and my sisters, I knew we’d run into those boys at some point — and that they’d probably do something that would make me lose my temper all over again. I just wasn’t sure what to do about that.

  I must have been lost in my own thoughts because I didn’t realize that Delaney had left the table. Suddenly, I h
eard a pssst! sound and glanced up to see Delaney way over at the edge of the deck, motioning us with her hand. “Come here,” she whispered.

  Most people get attention by raising their voices. For Delaney, the opposite is most effective. Delaney sitting still and whispering is a rare, remarkable phenomenon — almost unimaginable. Like hearing Darth Vader giggle. You can’t help but pay heed.

  Darby and I tiptoed over and hunkered down beside her. Then we stared out into the brush in the direction her finger was pointing.

  In the grassy area near the tree line were three deer. They stood there, each facing a different direction, eating shoots of weeds and grass. As they foraged, they kept a sharp eye out around them, occasionally pausing to stare closely in a particular direction. They were so beautiful — dainty but also regal looking. I wasn’t sure how long we crouched there, watching them. After a while, a notion sprang up in my mind — like a tiny grass shoot. Only instead of getting munched on by a deer, this one grew and spread out until it was a solid plan.

  “Troops,” I said, and my word seemed to break them out of the spell of the deer. “There’s one more thing I need to talk with you about before we adjourn the meeting.”

  We headed back to the table and sat down. Darby and Delaney looked at me expectantly.

  “I need to confess some things to you. And if you all don’t mind, I’d prefer that Darby leave this off the record.” I blew out my breath and gazed down at the tabletop. “Since we’ve arrived I’ve been a big stress ball. I worried about getting attacked by wild critters, that the trailer would tip over, that a snake would make its home inside my shoe — you name it. I just felt kind of … powerless. But when we started up the Great Camping Challenge — that helped me. It made me focus on other things and stopped my imagination from running hog wild.”

  “We noticed,” Delaney said.

  Darby nodded.

  “I thought we’d win the competition easy — but it proved harder than I thought. And I guess I got … carried away.”

  “We noticed that, too,” Delaney said.

  Darby patted my arm.

  “But you know what? I don’t think I need it anymore. Some things are more important.” I reached out and put a hand on their shoulders. “If it’s all the same to you, what do you say we put an end to this rivalry once and for all?”

  The trek to Campsite 18 was soggy. The ground squished and water dripped on us from the overhead branches. I didn’t mind, though. At one point I found deer tracks in the mud, and I wondered if they were the same deer we’d seen earlier. I also liked how the rocks were all glisten-y after the rain, and I put a couple of extra-pretty ones in my pocket.

  I took a deep breath and smiled. The expression “clear the air” really did fit — in the sense that the rain had washed away all the dust, but also because Dawn, Delaney, and I had gotten rid of the bad feelings that had been building up. The day was fresh and clean and new, and so were we.

  We actually didn’t have to hike all the way to the campsite because the boys were sitting in the Neutral Zone. They had dragged out three folding lawn chairs and planted their flag in the open spot where we come through. We had to inch around it to step into the clearing.

  I thought Dawn would yell at them about it, but she didn’t. However, she did push the flag pole as she went past so that it ended up lopsided.

  We stood facing them. Dawn was in front, with Delaney and me flanking each side.

  “If you came to claim the area, you’re too late,” Nelson said. “We got it. And not just for mornings, either.”

  “You guys can plant your flag on every rock in this place for all I care,” Dawn said.

  Nelson and Robbie exchanged surprised looks.

  “Have you come to brainstorm a tiebreaker challenge?” Jay asked. “We still need to find a winner.”

  Dawn assumed her best posture and cleared her throat. “Just the opposite. We’ve come in peace to tell you that we are ceasing all further rivalry. It’s been interesting, but now it’s time to put all competitiveness behind us.”

  “So you’re admitting defeat,” Jay said.

  “All right!” Nelson whooped, lifting his arms in the air. “We win!”

  Dawn put her hands on her hips. “It’s a tie, not a defeat.”

  “But you just said you are pulling out of the game.”

  “The game is over.”

  “Not if we do a tiebreaker.”

  Dawn smiled her you’re-getting-on-my-nerves-but-I’m-not-going-to-show-it smile. “Look, all this battling is pointless. The goal of our camping trip was to spend quality time with our aunt, not ramble about battling strange boys.”

  “Hey!” Nelson cried. “We aren’t strange.”

  “But you agreed to the challenge,” Jay said.

  “So?”

  “So the object of the game was to figure out who was best. We haven’t done that yet, so we still need a tiebreaker,” Jay said. “If you don’t do it, it’s pretty much the same as giving up.”

  Dawn sighed through her nose. “All I’m saying is, we have better things to do with our time. And we have more important folks to spend our time with. No offense. I’m sure you understand.” She smiled again, but I could tell she was forcing herself to. I was amazed that she hadn’t started yelling yet, and I was proud of her for keeping her composure.

  “All right,” Jay said, getting to his feet. “You’re saying it’s a lack of time, not a lack of determination.”

  “Yes. That’s it!” Dawn clapped her hands together. “Finally, you get it.”

  “So if that’s the case, why don’t we do one more contest between us?” Jay paced in front of Dawn, keeping his eyes on her. “A game that would decide the victors once and for all. It shouldn’t take long. You’ll still have plenty of time to spend with your aunt.”

  “What kind of contest?” Delaney asked.

  Jay stopped walking and stood in front of us, looking smug. “Capture the Flag.”

  “Ha!” Dawn scoffed. “Forget it. That has nothing to do with good governing.”

  “Sure it does. You’d have to come up with a plan and work together, right?”

  Dawn opened her mouth as if she wanted to say something, and then shut it. She seemed to be mulling over his argument.

  “Also, we leave Lake Lewis tomorrow. It’s now or never,” Jay said. “So are you in? Or are you conceding defeat?” He sat back down on his chair and turned an ear toward Dawn, to show he was listening for her answer.

  Dawn made a bleating sound. It sort of looked like she was slowly turning inside out. Her eyes narrowed, her lips were bunched up, and her cheeks were all sucked in. It was probably hurting her not to accept to the challenge. She’d promised us she would put this behind her, but I knew how competitive she was.

  Delaney, meanwhile, was dealing with the stress the way she normally does — through movement. Her knees bounced and her hands waggled and her eyes kept zooming around. It was like Dawn was pulling inward, and Delaney was ready to burst apart.

  “If you don’t respond, we’ll interpret it as you forfeiting the tiebreaker challenge.”

  “Which means we win,” Nelson said.

  It bugged me how Jay leaned back in his lawn chair as if it were a throne, his bent arms on the metal rests, hands pressed together at the fingers. Didn’t he realize how hard it was for Dawn to admit she’d been wrong to enter the competition in the first place? Did he have to hold losing over her head, too?

  “Come on. Y’all have to answer us,” Nelson said from his chair. “We don’t have all day.”

  “You have five seconds,” Jay said to Dawn. “Four …”

  Wavy lines appeared on Dawn’s forehead, and she sucked her lips into her mouth.

  “Three …”

  Delaney started jogging in place.

  “Two …”

  “We’ll do it!”

  The sentence rang out and sort of hung in the clean air for a few seconds. Suddenly, everyone was staring at me
. It took a moment to realize that I had yelled out the words.

  Whoops. I guess things weren’t as clear as I thought.

  As we walked back to our campsite, Darby just kept shaking her head and saying, “I can’t believe I got us into this. I don’t know what came over me.”

  “I’d say some fire got into you,” Dawn said.

  “I’d say some of Dawn got into you,” I said.

  “I understand why you accepted Jay’s challenge in the first place, Dawn,” Darby said. “It’s hard to not take the bait.”

  Dawn gave a solemn nod. “It’s like he puts you in a catch-22,” she said. “He’s kind of an evil mastermind.”

  “An archenemy,” I said.

  “A true antagonist,” Darby said.

  We stepped off the trail onto our campsite. Up ahead we could see our pop-up camper. An Aunt Jane–shaped figure passed by the window.

  “You know we’re going to have to tell Aunt Jane about Capture the Flag,” Dawn said. “She’s going to wonder where we’re headed off to.”

  “Let’s just tell it to her straight,” Darby said. “Hopefully this thing will be over soon.”

  “And victory will clearly be ours!” Dawn exclaimed, raising her fist in the air.

  When we reached our trailer, Dawn blocked the door and turned to face us.

  “Now, no dilly-dallying,” she whispered. “We agreed to meet the boys at the Neutral Zone in twenty minutes, so I want us to be there in fifteen. We’ll just explain everything to Aunt Jane, grab what we need, and go.”

  “I hung the flag out to dry this morning,” I said. “I’ll go get it.”

  While Dawn and Darby stepped into the trailer, I jogged around to the other side where I’d spread out the flag on a big branch. As I squinted into the trees searching for it, something rustled in the bushes nearby. I figured it was Mo coming to greet me.

  “Hey there, old pal,” I said.

  “Hey.”

  Huh? I whirled around and saw Robbie coming forward, out of the brush. He seemed extra stooped and shy, and kept glancing over his shoulders.