There's a Bat in Bunk Five (6 page)

“Oh, no,” yells Ellen and pretends to throw up.

Every other returnee has the same reaction.

“How come we're stuck with her? She's supposed to be with the younger kids, isn't she?” Betsy wants to know.

Corrine says, “We've got her. That's enough of that reaction now. People can change. Maybe she has. I want you to give her a chance . . .and I also think you can set a good example since you're older.”

“Now you sound like my mother,” Risa says.

Corrine continues. “Well, I mean it. We want everyone here to have a good time. We also hope everyone learns how to get along with people.”

“Ginger's not people. She's an animal,” Risa says.

“Try,” Corrine says.

“Okay, okay,” the old-timers grumble.

“Let's get unpacked,” I suggest.

Everyone brings the stuff inside and puts it away.

The kids look at what each other brought and talk about swapping.

Corrine and I go into our little room.

“I knew it wouldn't be easy when they found out about Ginger.” Corrine makes a face.

“Maybe she's changed,” I say.

“You're just like Barbara, always looking on the bright side.” Corrine smiles. “Well, maybe she has. Maybe we'll get lucky and she'll decide not to come back.”

We go out to the kids.

Janie's taking an upper bunk with no one underneath it. “This will be my penthouse apartment. In case the dreaded Ginger doesn't return, I can always turn it into a duplex, two floors, with the lower bunk for parties.”

Corrine returns to our room and comes out again,
carrying a bag of Charms lollipops. “Who wants one?”

Most everyone yells, “Me.”

Bobbie says, “Thanks, but I don't eat things with sugar. It's bad for you.”

“Me neither.” Ellen shakes her head. “And I don't eat meat either.”

“Since when?” Risa asks.

“I became a vegetarian last year.”

“Ugh,” says Linda.

Everyone but Bobbie and Ellen grabs a lollipop, yelling, “I want cherry swirl.” “No orange.” “No raspberry.”

“I can't make up my mind.”

“One each,” I yell. “Save your appetites for dinner.”

Kitty says, “Unless things have changed drastically, I'd rather not. Has the food gotten any better?”

Alicia giggles. “Oh, Kitty. You always complained about the food and then ate four servings.”

Four servings. How can she be so thin?

The door swings open.

“Well, here I am. Bet you were all hoping I wouldn't show up.” In walks a frowning kid. Her bangs are
practically covering her eyes, and her hair is braided in pigtails.

“Welcome, Ginger. Have a lollipop.” Corrine holds one out to her.

“A bribe? No thanks. I brought my own stuff. If you don't take anyone else's things, you don't have to share your own. Where's my bunk?”

I point to the one beneath Janie.

“I don't want a lower bunk. I was here last year. I should get to choose before one of the new kids.”

“Whoever gets here first, gets to pick. You know that,” Corrine says.

Everyone's standing around, not saying a word. Standing real straight. Kind of nervous and angry.

Janie's sitting on the top of her bunk.

Taking the lollipop wrapper off, she says, “Oh well, there goes the duplex.”

Ginger turns to Stacey. “Guess you must be one of the scholarship kids. They always let some of you in.”

I'm shocked.

Stacey takes a step backward.

Ginger continues, “I should get your bunk. My father pays full price. I'm not a charity case.”

“You're disgusting,” Betsy says.

“Thank you,” Ginger says. “I just love compliments.”

Stacey quietly steps forward.

It's all happening so fast. I don't know what to do.

“Just because I'm black doesn't mean my parents can't afford to pay.” Stacey looks like she's going to cry.

I think about how wonderful she was with Alvin. I wonder how Ginger can say something like that.

Kitty tosses her blond hair and says, “As a matter of fact I'm here on a scholarship, and I'm not giving up my bunk for a little creep like you. You were trouble last year and I can see you haven't changed.”

Ellen goes up to Stacey and puts her arm around her shoulder. “Don't judge the rest of the campers by this rat.”

Alicia says, “Last year she told me I should go back to Puerto Rico and leave America to the Americans. When I tried to explain that we were part of the U.S., she called me a rotten name. Ignore her. She's not worth it. They should never have let her come back.”

Corrine says, “Ginger, I want to talk to you privately.” Grabbing her by the arm, she takes her outside before anyone else can react.

The room's absolutely quiet. Everyone seems frozen into place.

I try to think of what Barbara would do. “I think we should sit down and talk about our feelings about what just happened.”

Everyone looks at each other.

Finally they sit down.

“I think we should just totally ignore Ginger, pretend she's not here,” Kitty says.

A couple of the kids agree.

“Maybe she's got a lot of problems that make her act that way,” I say.

“We all have problems. That's no excuse,” Janie says.

“Marcy, you don't know how terrible she can be.” Ellen frowns. “Last year they almost sent her home, but they decided to give her another chance, the suckers.”

Stacey says, “I don't want you to ignore her because of me.”

“If I were you, I'd want them to pour honey all over her and put her on an anthill,” Betsy says.

Stacey bites her lip.

Betsy leans over to Stacey and says, “Do you want
to swap lollipops for a while? I'm getting tired of this flavor.”

Stacey smiles and makes the exchange.

Soon everyone with lollipops is either swapping or licking each other's lollipops.

My mother would die if she saw this.

I trade with Robin.

My mother would make me wash my mouth out with twenty bottles of Listerine. She won't even let everyone use the same bathroom cup.

The bell rings for lunch.

Everyone seems to be in a better mood, in some ways closer because of what happened.

We all rush out of the door.

I can see Corrine sitting under a tree, talking to Ginger.

I've got a feeling that it's going to be some summer, that I've got a lot to learn . . .and I'm going to have to learn it quickly.

L
ights out. It's definitely time for that. The campers may not be exhausted, but I am—absolutely wiped out.

It's been a long day, a very long day. The preparation, arrivals, getting them settled, taking them to the pool to be tested, to the showers after swimming, back to the bunk to change and go over the cabin rules, on to dinner (noisier than the school cafeteria ever was), a meeting so that the campers could
meet the staff and learn the general rules and regulations.

The campfire. I hope marshmallows come out of hair or else Ginger's going to attract a lot of flies. Somehow, someone managed to drop a freshly melted marshmallow on her head without getting caught. No one would admit to having seen who did it, not even Ginger. She wouldn't let Corrine or me try to help her get it out.

I tried to talk to her, but she turned away.

Now we're back at the bunk.

There's lots of giggling going on. It began as soon as we turned out the lights.

Corrine walks into our room. “I've suggested they all settle down and go to sleep, but I doubt they will. After all, it's the first night, to be expected.”

“What should we do now?” I ask.

“Why don't you work on the diary we're supposed to be keeping. Just relax a little.”

I get the notebook and look at the first-camp-day assignment. We're supposed to write down first impressions of each camper, a little description of each of them, and my own feelings and perceptions about the first day.

I begin by opening the notebook and staring at
it. That's what happens when I confront a blank sheet of paper when I begin writing. I go as blank as the page.

I alphabetize the names, then doodle on the margins.

Risa sticks her head in the door. “We're taking a poll to see who in the cabin has already gotten her period and how old they were when they got it. Do you two want to be part of it?”

Corrine chuckles. “No, and I think you should cut it out. It's time for lights out, and anyway that may embarrass some of the kids.”

Risa shakes her head. “The poll's already taken, six yesses, with the youngest age being nine. Four noes. One maybe. And one ‘if you don't leave me alone, I'm going to beat the shit out of you.' ”

“Let me guess,” I say. “The last one's Ginger.”

“It sure wasn't Stacey,” Risa says.

“I think that's enough for tonight, Risa,” Corrine says. “Lights out.”

“We took the poll in the dark. The only light on in this cabin's yours.”

Linda sticks her head in the door. “I think this camp's haunted.”

“Why?” Risa asks.

“Because everyone here keeps talking about the camp spirit.”

“Out,” Corrine and I yell. “Get into bed.”

Risa and Linda vanish, giggling.

Corrine gets out of her bunk and stands up. “Marcy, please watch any comments about Ginger. If the kids think we can't stand her either, they'll just come down harder on her.”

I nod. “Okay. I'll try. I'm sorry.”

“Don't be sorry. It's understandable. Just don't do it again, if you can help it.”

“Okay.”

Corrine pretends to pound her head on the wall. “I need a break. First days wipe me out,” she says. “Marcy, you're in charge. See you in ten minutes . . . or so.”

She leaves. I'm going to have to try harder to be nice to Ginger. Setting an example is hard when you're only a couple of years older than the campers. Being the youngest CIT isn't easy. Still I'm glad that Barbara thought enough of me to ask when they needed a last-minute replacement.

I stare at my notebook for a few minutes and then write.

The day's been really hectic.

Corrine returns. “Your turn to go out.”

I yawn. “I'll skip it tonight. I'm exhausted.”

She grins, “I ran into someone outside who wants to talk to you.”

“Who?” I ask, jumping out of my bunk without even using the ladder.

“It's Ted. I'm glad you got over your crush on Jimmy,” she says while I put on my sneakers. “I didn't want to butt in before, but I know what he's like. I went out with him once last summer. It's just not worth it. You spend the entire time listening to him talk about himself.”

She crawls into bed. “I feel much better now that I told you. I feel like you're the little sister I never had, but always wanted.”

“I'm glad you've adopted me. I always wanted an older sister.”

She grins. “Now go outside and say hello to Ted. And Marcy, don't do anything that I wouldn't do.”

I wave and walk outside.

The kids are still giggling and talking to each other in their beds.

Ted's standing near the cabin, looking at the sky.
It's glorious in the country. Clear. Stars. There's even a full moon tonight.

I come up behind him, tap him on the shoulder, and say, “Pardon me, sir. Is this space taken?”

He turns around, smiles, and says, “Hi, Marcy.”

After that wonderful start I've got no idea what to say next.

“I just wanted to see you, find out how your first day went. I hope I haven't disturbed you.” He looks a little uncomfortable.

I hear giggles from the direction of the cabin. We move to a more secluded area, where we won't be the cabin's late-night show.

We sit under a tree.

I slap at my arms, killing the mosquitoes who think I'm the local blood bank.