Emma was right. Each triplet’s distinct personality came out in Lucy’s drawings, and the soccer ball looked ready to bounce off the page.
Without her phone, Hannah was wearing a plain, old-fashioned watch. Now she checked it and said, “Almost dinnertime, girls. We have to get a move on.”
“No wonder I’m starving!” said Olivia. “Hurry up and draw our cookie flag, Lucy. Then we can go eat.”
CHAPTER SIX
Vivek was not at dinner.
But a tall girl with terrific posture was. She had shoulder-length, straight black hair and perfectly arched eyebrows in a round face with a strong, determined chin. Her clothes were obviously expensive.
She was Brianna Silverbug.
Of the Flowerpot girls, Olivia noticed her first and immediately narrowed her eyes. Before Olivia could say anything, Hannah did: “You guys, let’s go meet the Purple Sage girls. You’re the same age group, and our cabins are on the same walkway. You ought to get to know each other.”
Besides Brianna, the Purple Sage campers were Kate, Maria, and Haley. Jane, the Purple Sage counselor, knew everyone in Flowerpot from the summer before, and while they were all in line at the salad bar she made introductions. The smiles, hellos, and where’re-you-froms were shy but friendly, Hannah thought, except between Brianna and Olivia. Those two barely spoke.
Later, when it was time to go up to the campfire, Hannah and Jane walked together. “What is up between my Olivia and your Brianna, anyway?” Hannah asked in a low voice. “Do you know?”
Jane looked around to make sure none of the campers was listening. “I don’t. But something must’ve happened last year. I expected hissing and snarling any second.”
“I barely know Brianna. What’s she like?” Hannah said.
“She’s great. Smart, funny, works hard. Super competent on a horse too,” Jane said. “She’s one of the ones who gets to bring her own to camp. Maybe she’s a little, uh . . . inflexible? She gets an idea in her head and it’s hard to talk her out of it.”
Hannah nodded. “That last part sounds like Olivia, so that could be the problem. They’re a little too similar.”
“Maybe,” Jane said. “Anyway, we super mature counselors better monitor the situation if we don’t want all-out war. Oh, and did I mention another good thing about Brianna? She brought us a Dandy Dust Mop.”
“Seriously?” Hannah recalled seeing Brianna’s mom on TV. “The only mop with patented dandy dust action?”
“ ‘When it comes to dust, Dandy dominates,’ ” Jane quoted. “And that means when it comes to Chore Score, Purple Sage is gonna dominate too!”
“Dream on, Jane, my friend,” said Hannah. “Even with your fancy electric dust mop, you guys can’t possibly win. My girls are exceptionally tidy. Grace even sorts her socks by color.”
Jane made a face. “That’s just weird. And anyway, the Chore Score has nothing to do with sock sorting. It’s not even a category.”
The walk from central camp to the campfire pit was all uphill. It had been full daylight when everyone started out, but by now the sun had set and a few stars were winking into view. All told, there were some two hundred campers at Moonlight Ranch that year, along with fifty counselors and half a dozen other staff. With everyone there at once, it was a mob scene, and it took Jane and Hannah several minutes to find their girls and shepherd them to their places.
(From the Moonlight Ranch Handbook for Families)
Among the many time-honored traditions at Moonlight Ranch, Campfire may be the most beloved. Several times each summer, the close-knit camp community gathers at the campfire pit just as dusk settles a splendid lilac cloak upon the desert. Comfortably seated on rustic, hand-hewn logs, campers, counselors, and staff enjoy the spectacle of the cheery campfire flames as they spring to life.
Of course, proper safety precautions are rigidly followed at all times, and we at Moonlight Ranch can point with pride to a safety record almost entirely unblemished.
Accompanied by the strumming of a talented counselor’s guitar, campers join in a singalong of traditional American classics, such as “Oh! Susanna,” “Red River Valley,” and “She’ll Be Comin’ ’Round the Mountain.”
The musical interlude concluded, information vital to community well-being and harmony are imparted during announcements. As necessary or desirable, additional programmatic elements are added.
At the Welcome Campfire, which concludes Camper Arrival Day, each counselor rises in turn to introduce the campers in his or her cabin. At the Farewell Campfire, Moonlight Ranch’s coveted awards for Chore Score and Top Cabin are bestowed.
Every Moonlight Ranch Campfire concludes with the enjoyment of a traditional culinary treat, the s’more. Half a lifetime’s experience in recreation management has taught Moonlight Ranch director John S. “Buck” Cooper this valuable lesson: The maximum number of people who can safely and effectively roast marshmallows around a campfire is twenty.
Because the Moonlight Ranch community includes almost ten times that number, our s’mores are premade in the camp kitchen, using graham crackers as well as a nutritious and tasty combination of Marshmallow Fluff and chocolate frosting. For accommodation of your son’s or daughter’s special dietary needs, please contact Paula in the camp office.
During O & T, Annie, the head counselor, had encouraged everyone to speak clearly but quickly. Otherwise the introductions would go on all night. Waiting for her turn, Hannah felt the fire’s heat on her cheeks. She hated public speaking, but inevitably her turn came, and she stood up.
“Hi. I’m Hannah from New York! I live in Flowerpot Cabin with Grace, Emma, Olivia, and Lucy, and all of us like cookies!” On cue, the girls held up the cookie flag. A few people laughed; a few applauded. Someone called out, “Where’s the cookies?”
Relieved to be done, Hannah dropped back onto her log, and Sharif, the counselor from Cactus Cabin, jumped up to take his turn.
“You did fine,” Emma whispered to Hannah.
“Only your knees were knocking,” said Olivia.
“Shhh!” Grace leaned over. “We’ll get demerits!”
By this time, Sharif was sitting down. Hannah hadn’t heard a word he said, but the drawing on his flag looked like a piece of rope with eyes. A rattlesnake, maybe?
Meanwhile, Lance, well-known hunk, got to his feet. “My boys are Jamil, Luke, Zach, and Vivek,” he said. “We are Silver Spur Cabin, and our flag”—he held up a drawing of a black blob with eight black legs—“is a tarantula!”
The Silver Spur boys thought they were hilarious . . . till it came time for Blazing Star Cabin to introduce themselves, and they had a tarantula flag too.
Meanwhile, Olivia said, “Lance is so dreamy. Isn’t he dreamy?”
Emma kicked her. “Shhh!”
Olivia said, “Don’t you think he’s dreamy, Hannah?”
Hannah echoed Emma. “Shhh!” But in truth she agreed that Lance, with his blond hair and green eyes, was handsome.
Not that she cared. She was interested in only one boy and one boy only, the one back home, Travis.
Grace leaned over. “Where’s Vivek?” she whispered. “Lance said Vivek, but there is no Vivek.”
“Shhh!” said Olivia.
“I’ll ask him after the campfire,” Hannah whispered just as Jane stood up to introduce the Purple Sage girls. “. . . and our flag is purple sage!” she said, displaying a drawing of gray-green leaves and a giant stalk of purple flowers.
“Oh, wow, how original,” said Olivia.
“Shhh!” said Emma.
The last counselor on his feet was Jack from Yucca Cabin (boys fourteen to sixteen). The older boys were notoriously hard on counselors, and Jack was the first in a decade to come back for a second summer.
Hannah didn’t know what to make of Jack. He was different from the other guys at Moonlight Ranch, and not remotely a hunk. He was a little overweight, for one thing, and he routinely made some peculiar wardrobe choices. For example, most of th
e guys wore sneakers, Tevas, or Western boots, but unless he was actually on horseback, Jack wore either Toms or flip-flops. As for his head, most guys wore cowboy hats or ball caps, while Jack favored the kind of small-brimmed hat with a hatband that Hannah associated with old men in Florida.
Now Jack stood up, brushed campfire schmutz off his jeans, and said, “Nice to meet you, everybody. I’m Jack from Chicago, and these are my campers Simon, Jake, Kane, and Mitch—and we are Yucca Cabin!”
Jack held up their flag with a flourish, causing the four campers beside him to laugh uncontrollably . . . and everyone else either to hoot or to groan. The drawing showed a lumpy pattern of brown circles tinged with grass green. It wasn’t especially realistic, but it was so familiar as to be unmistakable: horse poop.
Buck shook his head. “That will look nice in the dining hall.”
“Won’t it?” Jack grinned.
“You may sit down now,” said Buck.
“Yes, sir,” said Jack.
The Welcome Campfire was almost over. Annie, the head counselor, rose to make announcements about the next day’s schedule as plastic-wrapped s’mores were handed out.
“My campers want to know about mail,” a counselor said. “Some of them seem to be going a little bonkers without their phones.”
Annie gestured toward a tired-looking woman with short gray hair and glasses who had been standing on the periphery of the campfire circle. “Paula?” she said. “Do you want to address that?”
Paula’s expression said no, she did not, but now that she was on the spot, she stepped forward. “The mail gets here before noon,” she said. “I should have it sorted in time to get you your letters at lunchtime. Oh, and while I’m here, I’ll go ahead and remind you that your first letters home are due Sunday before dinner.”
Paula retreated, and Buck stepped forward. “I know you’re all wondering about scoring for your flags—am I right?” he said.
Most of the girls clapped and said, “Ye-e-es!” while the boys hooted and hollered, or, in the case of Yucca Cabin, answered, “No-o-o!”
“Flags are worth a possible three points toward the Top Cabin score,” Buck explained, “and I’m pleased to announce that most cabins earned all three points. The exceptions are Cactus Cabin, whose rattlesnake looks like no rattlesnake this ol’ cowboy has ever seen, and Yucca Cabin, who apparently did not buy into the proper spirit of the exercise.”
Apparently the Yucca fourteen to sixteens appreciated being singled out because they now cheered wildly for their failure.
Meanwhile, Buck wished everybody a great summer and a good night. “Counselors?” he said. “Lights-out in thirty minutes, no exceptions.”
Hannah had not even had the chance to lift her rear end from its resting place when Grace leaned over. “Go ask Lance about Vivek. You said you would.”
“Okay,” Hannah said. “But is it okay with you if I eat the last s’more crumbs first?”
“I guess so,” Grace said reluctantly . . . then she must have realized she was being rude. “I’m sorry, Hannah. I meant to say ‘please.’ Please?”
Hannah smiled. She ’d had her share of crushes too. “It’s okay,” she said. “I see Lance over there.”
In the crowd of campers and counselors headed back to central camp, Lance’s three were in a huddle, which he followed like a sheepdog. Hannah walked fast to catch up. “Hey, hi, uh, excuse me?” she said. Lance was new this year, and the two had barely spoken during O & T. “I’m Hannah.”
“Flowerpot Cabin, I know,” Lance said. “The one with the celebrities.”
“Celebrities?” Hannah repeated.
“The barbecue heiress,” said Lance. “The coyote killer.”
“Is that how people think of my campers?” Hannah shook her head. “I’d rather they thought of what’s on our flag—you know, cookies.”
“Uh-oh. I hope they don’t think of us as our flag,” said Lance.
Hannah wrinkled her nose. “Yeah, tarantula.”
“Like every other boys’ cabin,” Lance said. “Maybe I shouldn’t have talked them out of saddle sore.”
Hannah laughed and Lance did, too. He had a nice smile, and his green eyes seemed more interesting than her own blue ones.
“Look.” Hannah got to the point. “One of your campers, Vivek. My girls are asking where he is.”
“Oh, yeah?” Lance said. “Is he some kind of preteen heartthrob?”
Hannah let that question go. “They know him from last summer. Is he okay?”
“I don’t know exactly,” said Lance. “Maybe don’t tell your campers this, but Paula in the office said family emergency. I guess it’s not too bad, because he’s supposed to be here soon.”
Hannah was puzzled. “Is there such a thing as a not-too-bad emergency?”
Lance shrugged. “Details to come. Okay, you knuckleheads”—he said this to his boys—“we go thataway, remember?” They were back in central camp by now, boys’ cabins to their right, girls’ to their left.
“Thanks for the info,” Hannah said.
“Sure,” said Lance. “Oh, hey—I’ve got evening riding. How about you?”
“Evening too,” said Hannah.
“That’s cool,” he said. “I guess—” But she would never find out what he guessed because one of his campers grabbed his arm. “Come on, Lance!”
“Yeah, say good night to your girlfriend,” said another one.
Rolling his eyes, Lance allowed himself to be pulled away. “Real mature,” he said to Hannah, who shrugged.
“That’s boys for you,” she said.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Grace
It took Hannah forever to get back from the campfire. When she did, I was waiting for her right inside the Flowerpot Cabin door. “What did Lance say?”
“Grace!” Hannah jumped. “You startled me!”
“Sorry,” I said. “What did Lance say? Where’s Vivek?”
Hannah took a breath. “He said there’s nothing to worry about. He said there was some kind of a, uh . . . delay. Vivek will be here soon.”
If you ask me, this sounded suspicious, and I was ready with another question . . . but stopped. Hannah was giving me a certain look I knew well. It was the same look my teacher Mrs. Keeran gave me the time I went up to her desk after school to argue about getting a ninety-nine instead of one hundred on the “Rip Van Winkle” book report.
The look meant: “Further discussion will not be productive.”
“Your turn, Grace!” Emma came out of the bathroom.
“Okay, Emma, thanks,” I said, and five minutes later I was climbing into my nice clean bed and hoping the other girls would not be noisy and keep me awake.
Don’t get me wrong, I love Emma, Olivia, and Lucy.
Along with Shoshi Rubinstein at home in Massachusetts, they are my best friends in the whole world.
But a person doesn’t always want to stay up talking. A person sometimes is tired.
My bunkmates must have been tired too, because I heard very little giggling before the sounds of even breathing won out. Still, I could not allow myself to fall asleep immediately. I had worrying to do.
First, there was Vivek. I do not have a crush on him the way the other girls think I do. I do not! Vivek is just a nice, handsome boy like any other nice, handsome boy who is also polite and smart and funny. Also, I think he is actually my friend. I don’t have that many friends who are boys. In fact, he is the only one. I would like to keep him.
Also, I won’t lie. I had been very surprised when Lucy said that she had talked to Vivek on the phone. Why would Vivek have called Lucy?
I mean, it is perfectly okay that he called Lucy. It is a free country. Vivek may call anyone he wants. But why would he call Lucy? He has never called me.
I had asked Lucy this question earlier that evening, when we were walking to dinner. I had chosen a moment when no one else could hear, so no one else (Olivia) would tease me. I was pretty sure Lucy would not tease me.
I was pretty sure I could have a crush on SpongeBob, or Oz the great and powerful, or a giraffe at the zoo, and Lucy would not tease me. She would not even notice.
Apparently, Lucy notices wild animals that threaten triplets. Other than that, she mostly sees what is going on in her own head.
“He called to ask if I had sent him cookies,” Lucy said.
“Did you send him cookies?” I asked.
“Yes,” said Lucy. “Did you?”
“Yes,” I said.
“Me too,” said Emma, coming up behind us.
“So did O,” said Lucy. “At least, I think she did, because Vivek said he got four boxes of cookies, each at a different time, and one was from Kansas City.” Lucy giggled. “He sounded pretty confused.”
• • •
There are several things you have to get used to if you are going to be happy at Moonlight Ranch. One is heat. One is your sore thighs and rear end from riding a horse every day. And one is the sound of the bell.
The bell I mean is not electronic. It is a real bell attached to a rope and hanging at the top of a wood tower in front of the dining hall. A live person rings it. The sound is clear and musical and loud.
The bell rings to announce the start of activities. It rings to announce meals. It rings to say lights-out, and most importantly, it rings to announce wake-up, which is at six forty-five.
Some people (Olivia) complain all summer long that this is too early, but I am used to getting up early. If you do not get up early, how are you supposed to get everything done?
At camp that first morning, Monday, I woke up before the bell and automatically reached for my phone.
Then I remembered.
So while I waited for the bell to ring, I worried about Vivek. What did “soon” mean anyway?
I worried about my parents after that—home alone without me.
Then I devoted a couple of minutes to Shoshi Rubinstein. She had asked me to send pictures of camp. Her family was saving money for her sister’s college and could not afford a vacation. I told her sure, I would send pictures.
Campfire Cookies Page 3
