Camp Club Girls Get a Clue!

by Renae Brumbaugh

  McKenzie reached for a gallon milk container on the kitchen counter. She poured herself a glass. “Well, at least you and Elizabeth don’t have to hang around with him the whole time. He’ll be busy with his reunion stuff, right?”

  “Right,” Sydney agreed. “We’ll see him Monday at the Vietnam Wall. Aunt Dee wants to give him the tour, and she thinks that Elizabeth and I should be there. Otherwise, we’re on our own.” Sydney heard strange sounds coming from her computer speakers. “Is that mooing?” she asked.

  “Can you hear it?” said McKenzie. “That’s Olivia, our old milk cow. About this time every day, she wanders up to the kitchen window and talks to us. I’ll move the camera, and you can see her.”

  McKenzie’s face disappeared from the screen. Sydney watched her friend’s bare feet move across the kitchen floor as she carried the webcam to the window. Then a big, black-and-white cow head appeared. Olivia stood chewing her cud and looking at Sydney with huge brown eyes.

  “Earth to Mac! Earth to Mac!” Sydney called into her computer’s microphone. “Come back, Mac!”

  Sydney watched McKenzie’s bare feet walk back to the computer. Then her face showed up on the screen.

  “Isn’t Olivia awesome?” she said. “You really should come to Montana, Syd. We have tons of animals. I know you’d love it, and we could ride horses and hike, just like we did at camp.”

  “Maybe I will someday,” Sydney replied. “But right now, I’m signing off. I want to clean up my room before Elizabeth gets here from Texas. All of my junk is piled on the other bed. If I don’t move it, she won’t have a place to sleep.”

  “Okay then,” McKenzie said. “I’ll sign off, too—and eat more pizza.” She picked up the gooey slice from her plate and took another bite. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

  “See ya,” Sydney answered, switching off her webcam.

  Everything in her room looked neat except for the other twin bed. It was hardly ever used, so that was where Sydney stored most of her stuff. It held boxes filled with colorful papers and art materials, magazines, piles of clothes, and posters she planned to put up in her room. Sydney had so much stuff stored there that she didn’t know what to do with it all. Under my bed, I guess, she thought.

  Before long, the bed was cleaned. Sydney changed the sheets. Then she went to her closet and pulled out a new black and tan bedspread that matched her own. She threw it on top of the bed and tucked it neatly around the pillow.

  “Sydney?” Aunt Dee stood in the doorway. She held a long white envelope. “This came for you.”

  The letter was from Elizabeth. Sydney tore open the flap and found a note taped to an information sheet.

  Uncle Dan wanted me to send you this so your mom can keep track of him. Just in case of an emergency. It’s his reunion schedule.

  Sydney Lincoln read the heading on the sheet of paper. It said, “Annual Reunion—64th Transportation Company, Vietnam.”

  The Wall

  Thunderstorms in Texas delayed Elizabeth’s flight. By the time Aunt Dee, Sydney, and Elizabeth dropped Uncle Dan off at his hotel and got back to Sydney’s house, it was almost midnight.

  After the girls got ready for bed, Elizabeth handed Sydney a small package wrapped in polka-dot-covered paper. “I got this for you,” she said.

  Sydney grinned. She loved getting presents. Carefully she peeled the tape off the paper. Then she reached in and pulled out a square gray box. On the top of it, gold script letters spelled out His World, Amarillo, Texas. Sydney opened the lid and found a thick, coppery bangle bracelet. Etched all around it was a scripture verse: Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go. Joshua 1:9. “This is so cool!” Sydney exclaimed. “Thank you, Beth.” She slipped the bracelet over her left wrist.

  “My uncle gave me a pendant with that scripture,” Elizabeth said. She reached for the pendant on a long silver chain around her neck. Then she held it up so Sydney could see. “It has a special meaning.”

  Sydney settled into her bed and covered herself with the cool white sheet. “What’s the meaning?”

  “Well, when Uncle Dan was in Vietnam, he always carried a small Bible in his hip pocket. When he got shot, the bullet went through his pocket and right through the Bible. The doctors said that the Bible slowed down the bullet. If it hadn’t, he might have died instead of being paralyzed.” Elizabeth stretched out on her own bed and got under the covers. She switched off the light next to her bed. “And do you know what else? In the hospital, Uncle Dan opened his little Bible with the bullet hole, and it fell open to the words, ‘Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.’ It was Joshua 1:9!”

  “Wow,” said Sydney. “What a coincidence, huh? Good thing he had the Bible in that pocket.”

  “Coincidences don’t exist,” Elizabeth answered. “That was God.”

  Sydney shut off the light on her nightstand. “Your uncle is lucky to be alive. Maybe he can’t walk, but he sure does seem to get around fine. He just zipped around the baggage carousel and grabbed that suitcase. It was—”

  “Not that great.” Elizabeth finished Sydney’s sentence. “Because he still can’t walk. I pray every night for God to make him well again. But so far, nothing has happened. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t even have come here with him. Aren’t there a lot of statues of soldiers and reminders of wars here? I don’t like statues like that. They make me think of Uncle Dan.”

  Sydney heard tears in her friend’s voice. “Washington’s not so bad,” she said. “We’ll go to the Wall first thing tomorrow when Aunt Dee shows your uncle around. Then, the rest of the time, we can do fun stuff.”

  Elizabeth said nothing.

  “Good night, Elizabeth,” Sydney said. “Thanks for the bracelet.”

  “Good night, Sydney,” Elizabeth whispered.

  The girls got up early the next morning and were glad to find the weather had cooled and left a beautiful, sunny day. They ate breakfast, and then they walked from Sydney’s house to the Metro station. From there, they took the Metro, the name everyone called the subway system, to L’Enfant Plaza. They transferred to another train and ended up in a neighborhood west of downtown called Foggy Bottom.

  Elizabeth was impressed by how easily Sydney got around. “I’m glad I’m not doing this alone,” she said. “You know how directionally disabled I am!”

  “Do I!” Sydney replied. “Remember at camp when we were in the woods, and we scared off that cougar? You didn’t have a clue where we were. And you were the one who’d been to Discovery Lake Camp before!”

  They ran up the stairs from the train platform to the street.

  “And who got us out of that one?” Sydney added.

  “You did!” Elizabeth laughed. “Like I said, I’m directionally disabled.”

  Quickly they walked a few blocks to the Vietnam Wall.

  Elizabeth was surprised to see that the Wall was in a big, grassy park with lots of trees. The girls had agreed to meet Sydney’s aunt at the Three Servicemen statue near the west entrance. By the time they got there, Aunt Dee was already telling Uncle Dan and two of his buddies about the memorial.

  “The total length of the Wall is 493 feet and 6 inches,” Aunt Dee said in her park ranger voice. “Its two arms meet at the central point to make a wide angle of 125 degrees, creating a V shape. One end points toward the Washington Monument and the other end toward the Lincoln Memorial. The wall is ten feet three inches high at the center and is made of black granite—Oh, hello, girls!”

  Uncle Dan and his friends turned to look at Sydney and Elizabeth standing behind them. “Hi, Elizabeth,” Uncle Dan said. “Boys, this is my niece, Elizabeth Anderson, and her friend Sydney Lincoln.”

  The men shook hands with Sydney and Elizabeth. “Are you any relation to Abraham Lincoln?” one of them asked jokingly.

  “Not that I know of,” said Sydney.
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  They moved toward the wall as Aunt Dee continued her tour. “The Wall was designed by a young American sculpture artist named Maya Lin.”

  “Violin,” Sydney whispered into Elizabeth’s ear. The girls giggled, and Aunt Dee frowned.

  “The names of 58,220 men and women are etched into these panels,” she said. “You already know these were the men and women killed in the Vietnam War, or listed as missing in action. If you’d like to find specific names, I can help you with that, and our volunteers have tracing paper if you’d like to make tracings of any names. Also, feel free to leave a note or other memento at the Wall. People leave things here every day, like these—” She hesitated. “Oranges?”

  A row of oranges lined the base of the Wall. Actually, they were tangerines, but Sydney kept that fact to herself. Aunt Dee got annoyed when Sydney corrected her about such facts. The tangerines were neatly placed about three feet apart, stopping halfway down the west part of the Wall.

  “We’ve had some strange things left here lately,” Aunt Dee said. “Last week, it was lemons.”

  “Lemons?” Uncle Dan chuckled. “That does seem strange.”

  “I know,” Aunt Dee answered. “They were arranged in a neat little pyramid in front of panel 4E. The week before that, a box of blueberries was left by 48W; and the week before that, a row of limes led to panel 14W. They were set there just like these oranges.”

  “Tangerines!” Sydney corrected her. She couldn’t help herself.

  “Whatever,” Aunt Dee replied. “And then, of course, the other day some vandals struck.”

  “I heard about that on the news,” said one of the buddies. “It made me mad that someone disrespected the Wall like that. Did they catch them yet?”

  “No,” Aunt Dee answered. “Since it was graffiti, we think it was kids, probably some gang members. Most cities seem to have that problem.”

  Sydney and Elizabeth walked away, leaving the adults to discuss gang activities and whatever else people their age talked about.

  “This place is so quiet and depressing,” Elizabeth observed.

  Sydney agreed. “A lot of people treat it like it’s a cemetery. I don’t come here unless Aunt Dee needs me to…. Too many sad people. But we have to hang around until your uncle and his friends leave.”

  “I guess,” said Elizabeth.

  “Then we can walk to the Tidal Basin and ride the paddle boats,” Sydney continued. “That’ll be fun.”

  The girls wandered along the Wall with groups of tourists. They noticed all the different things left by people who wanted to remember the dead soldiers: a teddy bear here, a pair of combat boots there, letters addressed to loved ones, identification tags soldiers had worn in Vietnam, and plenty of tiny American flags. Nearby a man was busy making a rubbing of one of the names on the Wall. Not far from him, an old woman laid a red rose on the brick walkway in front of one of the panels.

  When they were about halfway down the west side of the Wall, Elizabeth noticed her uncle and his friends behind them. Uncle Dan had his head in his hands. He seemed to be crying, and each buddy had an arm around him. Elizabeth looked away. She couldn’t stand to see her uncle being sad. Bitter anger crept up inside of her. “Refrain from anger and turn from wrath; do not fret—it leads only to evil,” she reminded herself. Psalm 37:8. The shiny granite wall reflected images like a mirror, so Elizabeth stopped to put a clip in her long blond hair.

  Sydney was next to her by panel 30W, setting up a little American flag that had toppled over. She saw a tall man approaching them. He looked about the same age as Tyler, Sydney’s brother, who was away at college. The man’s fair cheeks and chin were almost hidden by his bushy red beard, and Sydney noticed that he smelled like cigarette smoke. His blue T-shirt was stained and his black cargo shorts were too big for him. He wore shabby brown sandals at the ends of his long, sunburned legs. Each was decorated with a silver peace sign about the size of a quarter.

  The man read the names on the wall. Then he picked up the last tangerine in the long row of them. He tossed it into the air and caught it in his right hand. “This is the place, Moose,” he said.

  A big, burly guy had sauntered next to him. His head was shaved and his walnut-colored eyes darted about as he scanned the names on panel 30W. His gray T-shirt showed the picture of a fierce bulldog with the words Nice Doggy.

  “You’re right, Rusty,” he said. “Looks like they got the sidewalk cleaned up already. Good thing there was a picture in the paper.” He took a handkerchief out of his pocket and blew his nose.

  “Yeah, these guys work fast,” Rusty muttered. “Bet it took a lot of scrubbing.” He reached down and picked up a note someone had attached to a flag by the wall. He read it aloud. “Patience is bitter, but it bears sweet fruit.” He laughed. “The Professor has a sense of humor. I think I’ll eat my orange now.”

  Sydney wanted to say that they were tangerines, not oranges. Instead she and Elizabeth listened while trying not to be obvious.

  Moose retied the laces on his dirty tennis shoes. “This one was a little different from green, blue, and yellow,” he said. “But I didn’t have to look long before I found it, Rusty. You saw it, too, right?”

  Rusty peeled the tangerine and stuffed the peelings into his pocket. Then he gave the fruit to his friend. “Yeah, I saw it, Moose. Right away.”

  “Saw what?” Elizabeth whispered to Sydney.

  Sydney shrugged.

  Moose bit into the tangerine. Juice ran down his chin, trickled onto his hairy arms, and dripped onto his shirt. When he finished eating, he wiped his sticky hands on his jeans. “We should probably leave something for The Professor, so he knows when—”

  “Shut up,” Rusty grunted.

  “But we have to—”

  “Shut…up!” Rusty whispered, spitting out each word. He tipped his head slightly toward Sydney and Beth. Then he nodded toward the other tourists.

  “I get it,” Moose said. He sounded like he’d just discovered the answer to a riddle. He faced the Wall. Then, after about thirty seconds and a quick jab in the ribs from Rusty, he saluted. “We should leave something nice for our dearly departed fellow soldier,” he said loudly.

  Rusty picked up another tangerine and tossed it to Moose. “Let’s go sit down and have a snack,” he directed.

  The two men walked away.

  “What do you think that was about?” Elizabeth asked.

  “Beats me,” Sydney answered. “But we should walk; otherwise they might think it’s weird that we’re standing here for so long.”

  The girls strolled toward the center of the Wall, the place where the West Wall met the East. Uncle Dan and his buddies were halfway down the East Wall, and one of the buddies was kneeling on the ground making a tissue paper rubbing of a name.

  “I think those guys were creepy,” Elizabeth said. “They were obviously looking for something and found it. Who do you think The Professor is?” Elizabeth was so busy thinking and talking that she almost bumped into a lady in front of her.

  “And that stuff about this one being different from green, blue, and yellow,” Sydney added. “You’re right. They were kind of creepy.”

  “Maybe we should tell your aunt,” said Elizabeth. “I think they’re up to something. Maybe they’re the guys who painted the graffiti on the sidewalk.”

  Sydney stopped in front of panel 10E and pretended to search for a name. “No, I don’t think so, Beth. I hate to admit it, but kids probably did the graffiti. And I don’t think we should tell my aunt. I mean, they weren’t doing anything wrong.”

  “But they were acting suspicious,” Elizabeth argued as she joined Sydney and pretended to look for a name on the shiny black panel.

  “Think about it. We might look suspicious,” Sydney suggested. “We’ve been standing here for five minutes acting like we’re looking for a name. Not exactly what a couple of kids would do.”

  The girls walked to Elizabeth’s uncle and his friends.

  “There you ar
e!” Uncle Dan said. “Listen, we’re almost done. Would you girls like to have lunch with the boys and me?”

  Sydney looked at Elizabeth.

  “I’m buying,” Uncle Dan said, smiling.

  “Well, okay,” Elizabeth replied. “How about if we meet you by the statue of the ladies when you’re done?”

  “You mean the statue of the nurses,” one of the buddies corrected her. “We can tell you some stories about them over lunch.” He grinned and winked at Uncle Dan.

  “Okay, we’ll meet you over there,” Sydney said. “Let’s go, Elizabeth!” She linked her arm with her friend’s and tugged on it, pulling Elizabeth back toward the center of the Wall.

  “What?” Elizabeth balked.

  “Look.” Sydney pointed toward the middle of the West Wall. Moose and Rusty were back, putting something near the bottom of panel 30W.

  “Slow down,” Elizabeth said. “Let them leave it, and then we’ll see what it is.”

  The girls stopped walking and pretended again to look for a name on the Wall.

  “Okay, they’re leaving,” Elizabeth reported. “Let’s slowly walk down there so we don’t draw attention to ourselves.”

  The girls strolled toward panel 30W. When they got there, they found a note written on lined notebook paper. It was stuck onto the thin plastic stick of a small American flag. Elizabeth knelt down and read it aloud. “Meade me in St. Louis, July 1.”

  “Huh?” Sydney bent down to see.

  “That’s what it says,” Elizabeth told her. “All in capital letters. ‘MEADE ME IN ST. LOUIS, JULY 1.’ ” She hesitated for a few seconds. “Sydney? Do you know how it is when God puts a thought in your head and you know that it’s true? Well, I just got one of those thoughts, and it’s not good!”

  Elizabeth felt a heavy hand rest on her shoulder.

  “It’s time to go, little girl,” a man’s voice ordered.

  The Lincoln Memorial

  Elizabeth’s heart jumped to her throat. She whirled around. Uncle Dan waited behind her.