Faded Denim: Color Me Trapped (10 page)

Then I take in a deep breath and look around the room, taking in each girl and her challenges. “So it looks like we all have some work to do during the next couple of weeks. None of us is perfect, and if anyone here thinks she is, she’s sadly mistaken. Now, instead of doing devotionals tonight”—I reach for my guitar— “let’s just sing a couple of songs and call it a night. I think we’re all pretty worn out. Okay?”

They seem agreeable to this, so I lead a couple of songs about love and then recite John 3:16 to them, ending in a prayer for
everyone in our cabin before I tell them good night.

I am totally exhausted when I fall into bed. And I feel like a failure. Not only did I fail to do devotions like we’re supposed to, I know I have failed at getting through to Kendra. And the idea of spending two weeks with this girl is overwhelming. I feel like giving up right now.

Besides that, I feel hungry. Ravenous. I barely picked at my food during lunch and dinner today. For a short while, I considered bingeing and purging, but then I realized that there’s not a lot of privacy in these group bathrooms. And I didn’t want to have to explain why I was “sick.” But now it hits me that I probably won’t be able to do a good job as a counselor and continue with my weight-loss regime. Besides that, I’m worried that Kendra will be onto me before long. And I wonder how she knew about Jenna. Or if she’s even right. I pray once again before I go to sleep. I beg God to help me to deal with this stuff. The truth is, I really want to keep losing weight. And I certainly don’t want to start putting the pounds back on. But at the same time I don’t want to flake out on these girls either. I wonder how it’s possible to have it both ways.

I
’
D LIKE TO SAY THAT OUR LITTLE HEART-TO-HEART CHAT THAT FIRST NIGHT
changed everyone and everything for our cabin and that life was beautiful after that, but unfortunately that is not the case. While things did go a bit better during the second day, we have some definite lines being drawn today.

Somehow Kendra has not only won Faye’s loyalty back but she’s managed to get Jenna to join the dark side as well. It makes me understand how leaders like Hitler won a following. Something about social cruelty and discrimination seems to be empowering. I’m a little surprised about Jenna, but I think her solidarity might have something to do with Kendra’s anorexia accusation on the first night. Maybe Kendra’s holding something she knows over Jenna to keep her under her thumb. But I can’t be sure.

Mostly it’s like having two cliques in the cabin. We have the “cool” girls, who are really the mean girls. Although in Faye’s and Jenna’s defense, it is Kendra who leads in the mean department. And we have the “geek” girls, who Kendra has assigned “secret” names. Penny is “Pig,” Chelsea is “Brace Face,” and Hilary is “Mouse.”

“Pig always slows us down,” Kendra complains to Faye and Jenna. Her tone is hushed and she thinks I can’t hear since I’m a few steps behind, walking with Chelsea and Hilary. Penny trails behind
like a caboose. I suppose what Kendra is saying is true. Penny does have a hard time keeping up and we’re often late for things. But it still irks me to hear Kendra calling girls names behind their backs, and I’m worried she might do it to their faces when no counselors are around.

We get to the mess hall and, as usual, I am torn. I know that the food here is pretty high in carbs and fat, and yet I know I need to eat in order to maintain my stamina and keep up with these girls. I’ve been trying to do smaller portions, although it’s still way more than I’ve been eating during the last few weeks. I’ve noticed how Jenna eats hardly anything, mostly just picks at her food, rearranging it on her plate, and despite Kendra’s proclamation, Jenna seems to get away with not eating. No one has said anything more about her eating habits or her thinness. And I’m surprised at how desperately I want the freedom to do the same. I actually envy Jenna.

Meanwhile Penny goes for seconds and, if no one’s looking, thirds. But the scary thing is how there’s this part of me that wants to join her. I would love to just eat and eat—and then hit the bathroom and barf because I really don’t want to look like Penny, and I know that I could. Mostly I just feel confused. Like when did eating and weight get to be such a life-consuming thing for me? And will it ever end? It’s like this vicious cycle. Or maybe a trap. Whatever it is, I’m really starting to hate it. It’s like I’m always off balance.

After lunch, just as we’re exiting the mess hall, Penny starts screaming. “I’ve been stung!” she yells. “Help, I’ve been stung!”

I already know that she has a serious allergy to bees, so I tell the other girls to head down to the activity area while I rush Penny to the nurse’s office, where her medication is kept in the fridge. I just hope that I won’t have to give her the shot. I’ve been told how to do this, but I am definitely not good with needles. I’m afraid I’d pass
out. Fortunately, the nurse is there, and within seconds, she administers the shot. I don’t even watch.

“Penny will need to lie quietly for a while,” the nurse informs me. “Can you wait here with her while I go check on the boy who sprained his ankle this morning?”

“No problem.” She leaves, and I notice a scale behind her desk. I cannot suppress the urge to see how much I weigh. I feel like a thief as I tiptoe back there and get on it. Then, to my complete dismay, I discover that I’ve put on two pounds. Two whole pounds. I can’t believe it. That’s almost a pound per day. At this rate, I’ll be right back where I started by the end of this camp! I have to do something!

And so I decide that even if it makes me tired, I will go back to not eating. It’s the only way to keep this thing under control. Not only that, but since it’s only been about fifteen minutes since I ate, I decide to go into the bathroom and get rid of it.

And here’s the weird thing. After it’s over, I feel empowered again. I feel like I have some control over my life and my weight again. And this somehow energizes me. I know it doesn’t make sense, but it’s the truth. I think, okay, I can handle this. I can handle these girls. I am going to come out on top.

I check on Penny now, wondering if she’s ready to go yet. And I’m relieved to see that she’s sitting up and seems fine.

“Feeling better?” I ask.

She nods then frowns. “How about you?”

“Huh?”

“It sounded like you got sick just now . . . in the bathroom.”

“Oh.” I had hoped she’d been sleeping. “Well, I’m kind of a wimp,” I tell her. “Hypodermic needles and hospitals and all that medicine and stuff . . . it makes me sick to my stomach sometimes.”

She nods as if she believes me. “Oh, yeah, that’s just like my
little sister. She just looks at a needle and practically passes out.”

I laugh. “Well, I can relate.”

Then we walk down slowly, at Penny’s pace, to join the others.

“I wish I could walk faster,” she says as she’s huffing along.

“That’s okay.”

“I’m not used to walking so much.”

“Yeah, we do walk a lot,” I say. “But it is a good way to burn calories.”

She nods. “Maybe I’ll lose some weight.”

We’re about halfway down to the activity area when it seems Penny has slowed down even more. I turn and glance at her, concerned that she could be having another reaction, that maybe the shot didn’t work. And I see that her face definitely doesn’t look good. In fact, she seems to be in pain.

“Penny,” I say suddenly, stopping in the path to really look at her. “Are you okay?”

She shrugs.

“Is it the bee sting?”

“No. That’s not it.”

Okay, she does seem to be breathing just fine. “What is it then? I can tell something is wrong.”

She looks down at the ground, almost as if she’s embarrassed. “It’s my legs.”

“What do you mean?”

“Where my thighs . . .” She stops.

“Huh?”

She looks around, as if to see whether anyone can see us, then pulls up her baggy shorts to reveal the inner section of her very large thighs.

“Oh my gosh!” I exclaim when I see how red and inflamed they
are. It’s as if someone has been beating her. “What happened?”

“They rub.”

“Oh.”

“That’s why I have to walk so slow.”

Now I put my arm around her shoulder. “Poor Penny,” I say. “That looks like it really hurts.”

“It does.”

“I wonder if the nurse might have something.”

“Do you think?”

“Wanna go back and see?”

She nods. And so we make our way, very slowly, back to the nurse’s office, where she first cleanses then treats Penny’s abrasions. She also gives Penny some antibiotic ointment to take with her. “And use ice packs,” she advises as we’re leaving.

“How can I do that?” Penny asks as we start trekking back down to the activity area again. “Kendra and the others would really make fun of me then.”

I consider this and have an idea. “Maybe when we get sodas at the Snack Shack, you can ask for extra ice with yours, and when we sit down to drink them, you could set yours between your legs, to hold the cup, you know?”

She nods. “Yeah, that might work. Thanks.”

By the time we get to the activity area, things are just winding down. It looks like they had relay races today. And I can tell that Penny is relieved. After this is free time, one of the few times during the day when campers are allowed to come and go as they please. Most of the kids, including the “cool” girls from our cabin, usually head for the pool to cool off. And although they never invite Chelsea, I’ve noticed that she has a good friend in another cabin (from her church), and these two athletic girls always seem to find
something fun to do. Meanwhile Penny and Hilary head back to the cabin, where Hilary reads her books, and Penny takes a nap. I know this for a fact because I usually join them. It’s my one break.

But today, I’m feeling energized. I’m thinking that my life is back on track and I’m going to keep losing weight. I want to get some exercise. And so I take myself on a little hike that I’m sure will burn off all the calories I consumed at breakfast. I tell myself that I’ll take off those two extra pounds in no time because I’m back in control. I have the power to do this!

Okay, I do feel a little self-conscious at dinner, but I make sure to take small portions of everything except the green salad, which monopolizes my plate. And I even pretend to put dressing on. Then I take my time eating every bit of my salad, and I move the other pieces of food around until it really does seem like I’ve eaten, then I put my napkin over the uneaten food, and my plate looks pretty much like the others. I can do this!

I’ll admit that I feel guilty. But I’m not quite sure why. I mean, it’s not like God wants me to be fat. All I have to do is look at Penny to know that she’s miserable. Is God pleased with that? I don’t think so. But then I look at Jenna, and while she looks pretty and thin, she does not look happy either. And I guess this worries me.

As her counselor, I’m thinking maybe I should talk to her about her eating habits. I mean, it’s one thing to eat like I am when you’re overweight and trying to slim down. But Jenna is already thin. Maybe even too thin. She really should eat more. But how can I confront her without feeling slightly hypocritical? I ask God to guide me in this. I pray that he will use me with all these girls. Part of being a counselor is committing to pray for the kids in your cabin on a regular basis. And I am faithfully doing this. I even pray for Kendra. Okay, sometimes my prayers aren’t so nice. But I think God understands.

On Friday, I sneak into the nurse’s office under the guise of asking for some more ointment for Penny, which isn’t completely false since she told me she’s almost out. Fortunately, the nurse isn’t even there, so I am able to get back onto the scale again and, to my relief, I have lost two pounds. I realize this is only breaking even, taking me back to where I was before I came to camp, but it’s better than gaining.

I’m back to my old regime now, drinking lots of water, exercising every chance I get, and then pretty much not eating anything that has calories. I sort of miss the bingeing-and-barfing days, since there is something satisfying about actually putting food in your mouth and consuming it, even if only briefly. But I reassure myself that at least this will protect the enamel on my teeth. That’s something. So, for the most part, I’m feeling pretty good, like I’m on top of things again.

Except for when it comes to the girls in my cabin. That’s where I think I’m failing. I even brought it up with Pastor Ray. I told him about how divided my cabin was, how the “cool” girls were making everyone else miserable, and that I didn’t know what to do.

He just smiled. “Don’t be too hard on yourself, Emily. Unfortunately, this comes with the territory for most middle-school girls. There are always the ones who want to torture the others. But usually it’s because they’re feeling tortured themselves. If you can get the mean girls to open up, you might discover what’s making them hurt.”

“What if I can’t?”

He just shrugged. “Then you can’t. Just remember that God can. And he can use anything. Whether you can see it or not, there’s probably something good that’s going to come out of this.”