Love and Pollywogs from Camp Calamity (2 page)

“Fine, Sister!” Kayla said. “Effie’s sweater just got caught on my basket. I was trying to get it free without tearing it. I think it’s the only one she has, you know.”

My face burned. The Quintanas live in the fanciest house in town, and Kayla loves to make fun of my family because we’re kind of poor.

“Let me see, Kayla,” Sister said. “Move your hand.”

“Oh, got it, Sister!” she said. “There you go, Effie. Not a single tear or snag.”

I whipped around and gave her a muddy look. I didn’t even care if Sister Lucille saw.

Sister peered into Kayla’s basket. “I don’t think this is what your mother wanted you to spend all your toiletry money on tonight. Let’s leave some of this jerky here and go find you some soap and toothpaste, shall we?”

I tried not to smile as Sister led Kayla off to the boring aisle. I grabbed the bags of jerky I needed and went to find Nit again.

I know Kayla is jealous of what she calls my “little friendship club.” Her mouth makes this mean twist whenever she says it. Up until just a few months ago, I didn’t have a best friend. Or even a pretty good friend. Ever since my old best friend, Lola Jo, moved away when I was in second grade, I’d been the odd girl out. Some kids are still kind of funny around me because of my dad, even though that whole mess happened five years ago.

Now I’m the only girl in my entire fourth-grade class at St. Dominic’s who has two best friends! Aurora is extremely sporty and loads of fun, and she would give you the shirt right off her back. Even though it would be three sizes too big. Aurora double-crossed me once when we first became friends, but I gave her another chance. Before you start thinking I’m like a saint or anything, it was Nit who talked me into forgiving her. She said Aurora was still UIK (Under the Influence of Kayla) and couldn’t help herself. But she’s cured of it now.

My other best friend, Nit, which is short for Trinity, is really smart and
not
a freak like some people think just because she has a talent for figuring things out. Sometimes
even before they happen. If you’re Irish, which I am, we call that “fey.” It usually comes in extremely handy.

Except I think Nit’s fey button was in the Off position, because we did not get any warning about what was going to happen the minute I set foot in Camp Wickitawa! Or maybe Nit did know, but she didn’t dare tell me. Because if I had known what was in store for me during my very first vacation away from home, I would have had the special suitcase unpacked faster than you can say John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt!

“W
hat is your
sister
doing here?” I whispered to Nit, who sat next to me in the green leather booth at Big Arlene’s. I looked around nervous-like, hoping Maxey wasn’t going to show up. Maxey and Nit’s sister, Phil, short for Philomena, are best friends, and you hardly ever see one without the other. Imagine an earthquake and a volcano teaming up. That’s how big a mess the two of them can make together.

Nit bit the paper end off her straw and rolled her eyes. “She’s here because of the counselor-in-training thing. Sister wanted to officially introduce her to everyone tonight.”

This was the only dark spot on our happy cloud. Poor Nit. Her sister was going to be our CIT! I would have died
if Maxey was going to be at camp. I couldn’t wait to have a whole blissful week without her.

Aurora shoved a fistful of fries into her mouth, shook her head, and grunted.

Basketball practice makes her very hungry.

All thirteen of us fourth-grade girls were packed into four booths. Nit, Aurora, and I had our own. Sister Lucille was sitting at a big table with Phil, Mary Peters’s mother, who is my dentist, and an older girl I didn’t know. I hoped Dr. Peters wasn’t going with us. I was planning on eating about a year’s worth of candy at camp. And I wouldn’t have a lot of time to brush my teeth.

Nit shoved the rest of her Annie Oakley burger over to Aurora and slumped down in the booth. “She never would have been picked for CIT if she hadn’t won Outstanding Camper of the Week. It’s an automatic shoo-in.” Nit sighed hard and rolled her straw paper into a tight ball. “Phil’s been reading this book Sister gave her about being a CIT. She’s trying to act all mature now. This morning, she comes into my room to show me how to make my bed. Can you believe it? It’s enough to make you sick up.”

Aurora laughed. “Send her over to my house. She can teach my brothers!” Aurora was the only girl in her family, except for her mother, of course, and her five brothers were extremely messy.

“Tell me again how Phil got Outstanding Camper?” I asked. Normally, Phil is “as useless as a box of hair,” like Grandpa used to say. Hard to believe that she ever got
OCW, but it did give me hope. If Phil Finch could get it, surely I had a chance!

“She saved a kid’s life that was drowning,” Nit said. “I guess they overlooked the fact that he was drowning because she’d pushed him in. Least according to what I heard!”

“Didn’t the boy know how to swim?” I asked, scraping a sticky place on the table with my thumbnail.

She shrugged. “You’d think! They were on the swimming platform that’s way out in the middle of the lake. I hear it’s really deep there, which makes it great for diving.”

“What fourth grader doesn’t know how to swim?” Aurora guffawed. “He must have had a cramp or a concussion or something.”

I took a long drink of iced tea to try to cool my cheeks before they gave me away. Truth was, I didn’t know how to swim. A lick. Or a stroke. And I could tell that Aurora was going to think it was pretty weird that I couldn’t. It was one of the reasons I wanted to go to camp so bad. You got free lessons there. And after you passed beginning swimming, you even got a cool Pollywog badge. Maxey kept hers in her jewelry box. Since Nit, Aurora, and I had only been friends in the winter and spring so far, they didn’t know I couldn’t swim. It just hadn’t ever come up.

“So who do you think will get it this year?” Aurora asked.

“Pollywog?” I asked, my breath catching.

“Pollywog?
No!” she laughed. “Outstanding Camper of the Week.”

“Well, you know who’ll think she deserves it!” Nit said.

My head whipped around. “Who?”

“Kayla, I bet,” Aurora said. “The girl’s an attention addict.”

Nit looked behind her to make sure no one was eavesdropping. “The most outstanding thing Kayla could do would be to stay home and give us all a break!”

Aurora shook her head. “Don’t count on it. She probably thinks it’ll be like shooting fish in a barrel, having us all in one place twenty-four hours a day! Hey, have you guys thought about what you’re going to do for Talent Night?” She took a big bite of hamburger, and ketchup gushed out the bottom. It landed with a big messy splash on her basketball, which was in her lap. Where it is most always when she isn’t on the court.

I leaned across and wiped it off with my napkin.

“Thanks!” she said, giving me a nice smile.

“Hi, y’all!” Phil said, cruising by our table. “Can I get anyone a refill?”

“We’re not at camp yet,” Nit said. “Go be helpful somewhere else.”

Phil scooched in next to Aurora. “I’m glad you’re getting to come to camp even though you don’t go to Saint Dom’s anymore. I know the girls would have been heartbroken without you.”

The
girls?
Oh, please. Like she was twenty-seven and we were three.

“Changed my mind, Phil,” Nit said. “I’ll take some lemonade.” She thrust her glass at her sister.

I did the same. “Iced tea, please—one lemon and two sugars.”

“Root beer, and put a little orange soda in there, will ya, Phil?” Aurora wiped her glass on the front of her shirt. “Sorry, it’s a little sticky.”

That was an understatement. Nit and I bit back grins.

Phil grabbed a napkin out of the dispenser and wiped off Aurora’s glass. “Fine, I’ll get your drinks. I’ll let you all wait and hear the good news from Sister Lucille herself.”

“What good news?” Nit asked, suspicious.

Phil climbed out of the booth and flipped her hair over her shoulder in the exact sickening way that Maxey does.

Then she raised a bony shoulder and dropped it. “Just the good news that Maxey is going to Camp Wicki with us!”

•   •   •

Mom must have mapped the whole thing out in advance in her coach’s playbook. Probably named it
Defense Strategy #13: Effie Doesn’t See It Coming
. Then she drew me as an X sitting at Big Arlene’s, where she figured I’d hear the
news
. She drew herself as another X, waiting under the home team basket. The third X would be Maxey, who would be at the movies so I couldn’t get to her. Because Mom knew that the minute I got my hands on Maxey, I was going to hurl her so far out of bounds she might even need her passport.

When Sister Lucille dropped me off at my house, I raced up the front steps. I slammed the front door so hard the front windows rattled. Normally, I’m not a slammer; that’s Maxey’s specialty. But I’d never been so
mad
in my whole life. I’d been skunked by my whole family, and I was seeing stars from it.

Mom came out of the kitchen with a bowl of popcorn. “Hi, Ef! How’d your meeting go?”

“You’re
joking
about Maxey!” I gasped.

“Come on, sit! Let’s talk.” She plopped down on our couch and patted the seat next to her.

“I—can’t—
sit
!” I could barely speak.

“Now, I don’t know what you heard, but it isn’t as bad as it probably sounds right now. Maxey will be working in the camp kitchen all week. You won’t even know she’s there!”

“Fat chance of that!” I sputtered, spit flying. How could I not know that Bosszilla was at
my
fourth-grade camp?

“Effie—”

“Just tell her
no!
She can’t come! That’s what you always tell me to do!”

“If you will just sit down for one second, Effie, I will explain everything.”

I crossed my arms over my chest and glared. “There is nothing you can say that will make this okay with me. Ever!”

“Have it your way,” Mom said, getting up. “When you
calm down and want to talk, I’ll be in my bedroom. I have to pack.”

I stood there dumbstruck as she left the room. Pack?
Wha-a-at?
She had to pack? Was she going to camp too? This was getting worse by the second. Was I going to have my big sister and my
mom
come to camp with me?

“Why are you packing?” I hollered.

She didn’t answer.

“Okay! I’m sitting now, Mom.” I plopped down quickly. “You can come back! I’m ready to listen!”

Not a peep. I jumped up and charged into her bedroom. She was pulling a big duffel bag from under her bed. I took a deep breath, sat down on the edge of the bed, and folded my hands. “I’m all calm now,” I lied. “What are you packing for?” I tried not to sound like I had a rope wrapped around my neck choking me.

“I’m going to be at a nice long retreat in Austin that my boss was kind enough to offer me. She was scheduled for it herself, but her son has the chicken pox, so she can’t get away. She’s going to cover my team for me.”

“Wull, gee, that’s great, Mom.” I knew she hadn’t been on a vacation since before Maxey was born. Unless you counted traveling on hot school buses full of screaming high school basketball players.

“Your going to camp the very same week made the offer nearly perfect. But I needed somewhere for Maxey to stay. Normally, I could have had her stay at Phil’s, or Frank’s, but both of them will be away at camp, so—”

So it made perfect sense to everyone but
me
that Maxey should just come along.

Mom continued. “I really didn’t think I’d be able to go, but Sister Lucille offered to take Maxey. Honestly, Effie, she and I both understand how important this week is for you. But I promise you Maxey will be no trouble. We’ve made arrangements for her to bunk up with the camp staff, and not with your class. She completely understands that she’s not to interfere with your fun in any way. And, sugar, you’ve never been away from home. Might be kind of nice for you to know that Maxey is there, just in case you get a little homesick.”

“I’m not going to get homesick! I get sick at home from Maxey bugging me all the time.”

“Good, then you won’t need her. She’ll be very busy anyway. And don’t forget Frank will be there too. He won’t let Maxey bother you.” Mom sat down next to me and patted me on the back a few times like she was trying to burp me. “And,” she added, like this would seal the deal, “Maxey has given me her word.”

Oh, gee, now I felt tons better. Maxey’s “word” is about as reliable as an ice cube on a sizzling-hot griddle. Or one of those tiny cocktail umbrellas in a Texas hailstorm.

Her only “word” was
t-r-o-u-b-l-e
.