Tug-of-War (7 page)

“Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday, dear Chris! Happy birthday to you!” sang all my cabinmates with a huge amount of energy. Birthdays at camp always got a lot of attention.

“Thanks, everybody!” I said.

It was the end of lunch, and the CATs had just come out of the kitchen carrying a birthday cake lit up with twelve candles. Everyone in the dining hall was watching.

I smiled and could feel myself blushing a little from being the center of attention. I closed my eyes and made my wish.
I want to stay friends with Devon and Maggie, and I want to do it without both of them driving me
loca! Then I opened my eyes, and the whole dining hall clapped and
cheered as I blew out all the candles in one breath.

That was a good omen. Now my wish would come true.

My cabinmates had been thrilled when they'd found out it was my birthday. Our whole cabin got to eat birthday cake and ice cream for dessert while the rest of the dining hall was having strawberry Jell-O.

“So . . . June. What sign are you? I'm Leo, by the way. The lion. Don't you think all the horoscope stuff is fascinating? I do,” said Laurel-Ann while Gloria was busy cutting the cake.

“I'm Gemini. The twins,” I told her. “We're supposed to have two sides to our personalities.” Gloria handed me the first slice. It was chocolate cake with white frosting. My favorite was yellow cake with chocolate frosting, but at least I had cake on my birthday.

“Oh, that explains a lot!” Betsy said with a laugh.

“What's that supposed to mean?” I asked around a mouthful of cake.

“Well, it explains how you could be friends with Maggie and Devon at the same time,” she said.

Everybody at the table laughed. Devon fluttered her eyelashes, and Maggie opened her mouth to show Devon her half-eaten birthday cake.

I'd never really thought of that as an explanation
for why I had two such different best friends. Did I have a split personality? All I knew was that I liked both of them for different reasons. Some other things about me seemed two-sided. Like, I was totally into American culture, but I loved my Puerto Rican heritage too. And I was sort of a tomboy who liked outdoor adventures, but I liked girl stuff, too, like dressing up for special occasions.

“Do you mind having your birthday away from your family?” asked Kayla.

“Not too much. My family celebrated with me last Saturday. So in a way, it's like having two birthdays.”

On Saturday we'd had
pasteles
, which was my favorite Puerto Rican dish: spicy meat wrapped in plantain leaves. We always had them around the holidays, and that was also the dish I wanted for my birthday dinner.

“Anybody famous born on your birthday?” asked Boo.

“Well, Paul McCartney, that old Beatles guy, and some other people I've never heard of.”

“He's a vegetarian. His wife Linda even wrote vegetarian cookbooks,” Devon pointed out. She'd eaten a bean-and-rice burrito for lunch. Pine Haven's cooks always made sure there was some kind of veggie dish at every meal.

“I've thought about becoming a vegetarian,” said
Maggie. “But I'd miss hamburgers and fried chicken. And I love slabs of fried pig flesh for breakfast.” She stuffed a giant forkful of cake into her mouth, licking her lips to catch a stray bit of frosting.

Betsy covered her face with her hands. “Maggie, you're really starting to turn me off bacon.”

After lunch, I got to check my mail, and I was really happy to see that my little cubby on the dining hall porch was stuffed with cards and e-mail printouts, all wishing me happy birthday and
feliz cumpleaños
. That morning I'd gotten to go to the office and call my parents. You only got to call home for birthdays and emergencies.

Back at the cabin, Devon solemnly handed me a package wrapped in brown paper towels from Solitary. “I know this is exactly what you wanted.”

I laughed when I unwrapped it. It was the plate she'd painted in crafts.

“Gee, thanks,” I told her. “Now I've got two.”

“Thanks for not snubbing my handmade gift,” said Devon. “Maybe the next time I go to crafts I can knit you a new pair of high-tops.”

When Maggie saw that, she grabbed the plate she'd made from her shelf and tossed it to me like a Frisbee. Luckily, I caught it. “Here ya go, Kachina. Happy birthday. And congratulations. It's triplets.”

“See. You two have the same taste in gifts,” I pointed out.

Betsy smiled when I said that. I could tell she was aware of all the ups and downs I was having with Devon and Maggie.

Like yesterday. Devon absolutely insisted that I go to every activity with Maggie. “The bear has spoken, Chris,” she said anytime I tried to suggest that I could split the day up between her and Maggie.

So Maggie and I
had
spent the day together, but I worried about Devon the whole time. Was she secretly mad at me and just acting like she didn't care? I knew I couldn't let this go on much longer—the two of us not hanging out together at all. It might really damage our friendship.

So after rest hour was over, everyone was leaving for activities. I climbed down from my top bunk and peeked through the metal rails at Devon lying on her bottom bunk.

“I want you to give me another birthday present,” I told her.

Devon raised her eyebrows at me. “Sorry, I'm miles from the nearest mall, so a lousy handmade plate is all I can do for you right now.”

“I'm serious. This is something I really want. Go
to activities with me this afternoon. Just you and me.” I'd really missed having her around yesterday, cracking jokes and making me laugh.

“What about the banana eater? Won't she be lonely?” Devon asked with a frown.

“The banana eater and I spent all morning together at canoeing. Now I want to hang out with you for the rest of the day.”

Devon sighed and didn't say anything. She wouldn't look at me either. Maybe she really was kind of mad at me for having another best friend besides her.

“You have to, Devon! It's my birthday, so I get whatever I want for the whole day,” I told her firmly.

Maggie was going on a hike with a big group to Frogmouth Rock. I'd planned on going with her, until I'd decided to spend the afternoon with Devon instead.

“Hey, Christina Kachina—I'll see you later, okay?” Maggie said.

“Okay, later, Windsoroni.” I couldn't help feeling like I was deserting her, but I'd talked this over with her while we were canoeing this morning, and she'd agreed to it.

Devon perked up a little after Maggie was out of the cabin. “Let's go to archery,” I suggested. “You haven't tried that yet. You might actually like it.”

She yawned. “Oh, yeah? What are we hunting? Wild boars?”

“No, wild straw targets. They can be pretty ferocious too. Let's go.”

It was a beautiful afternoon with big, fluffy white clouds sailing across the blue sky. I loved having a summer birthday. No school and an entire day of outdoor fun. What could be better?

The archery range was basically an open field with big, round, straw targets that had brightly colored rings of white, black, blue, red, and finally gold in the center.

We got our bows and arrows from Margaret White, the archery counselor. “I'll give Devon a quick demo,” I told Margaret, so she could help some of the other newbies.

I showed Devon how you were supposed to straddle the white line spray-painted in the grass so that your body faced sideways. Then you turned only your head toward the target, with your chin lined up to your shoulder. That way you could hold the bow in one hand and pull the string all the way back to your ear with the other hand.

“The string feels really resistant at first, but you'll get used to it,” I told Devon. We were using leather tabs to protect our fingers from getting blisters from the string.

“Your left arm should be straight and your right arm will be bent like this.” I demonstrated. “Then, when you aim, point the arrow down slightly because it tends to fly up when you release it.”

I took aim and hit in the blue ring. “Okay, go ahead and try it,” I told Devon.

She'd been watching me carefully while I'd shot my first arrow, and now she followed my directions closely. She pulled the string back, took aim, and then released the arrow. It sailed through the air and struck the target with a thwacking sound. Devon's arrow had landed in the red, one ring closer to the center than mine.

“Excellent!” I shouted. “Look how great you did—and on your first try.”

Devon lowered her bow and smiled slightly. Then she shot the rest of her arrows, hitting the target every single time. Nearby, Isabel Zeigler was shooting arrows that fell into the grass, two or three feet short of the target.

“See, you're a natural at this,” I told her when everyone was finished shooting and we could retrieve our arrows.

Devon smiled, obviously pleased with her performance. “I feel like Diana, goddess of the hunt.”

Last year in sixth grade, we'd spent a whole unit
of social studies studying mythology, and Devon and I had loved every minute of it. “Yeah, and archery has some real benefits. It makes your chest muscles stronger. We could go up a whole cup size!” I said with a laugh.

Devon smiled slyly. “Why aren't we coming here every day then?” she asked.

“We could. Definitely!” I loved the way we were laughing and having fun together, just like we always did back home.

“See, this is a good birthday present. This is just what I wanted. I was hoping you'd start to like some things about camp.”

Devon grimaced when I said that. “Don't remind me. Every single day I think about what I'm missing. I mean, really, Chris—when will I ever get a chance to go to Europe again?”

We were back at the line, ready to shoot again. I positioned my arrow and tried to aim a little more carefully this time. It was a tiny bit annoying that Devon was beating me on her very first archery visit.

“Have you gotten a postcard or anything from your parents yet?” I asked.

“Not yet. I suppose it takes awhile for mail to get all the way across the Atlantic Ocean,” she said with annoyance.
She quickly aimed her arrow and shot, hitting right in the gold center.

“Good shot,” I admitted. “Look, I know Pine Haven would've been your last choice of where to spend a month of summer vacation, but at least we're together. We can still have a good time like we always do, right?” I asked.

“We
could
have a good time if that gorilla wasn't in the way. Chris, I honestly have no idea what you see in her.”

Devon's next shot hit in the red. So far she'd hit every single arrow in the inner three rings.

“Devon, don't start. You just don't get Maggie the way I do. And we like to do a lot of the same things.”

I'd never go on any river trips, or take a hike, or even swim in the lake if I spent all my time with Devon.

“You'd
never
be friends with her back home,” she went on. “First of all, there's no way she'd ever make it into the gifted program.”

I had raised my bow and was about to take aim when I lowered it and glared at Devon. “She's not stupid. She happens to be a good friend of mine.”

Devon had her back to me so she could take aim again. She shot all her arrows before she said anything else.

“What do the two of you do together? Blaze trails? Hunt grizzlies?”

“I think you're jealous, Devon,” I said. “Can't you try to be a little more mature about this and accept the fact that I can have two best friends?”

Devon jabbed the point of her arrow into the grass, inches from my purple and yellow high-tops. It wavered back and forth a little from the force. “Mature?
Mature?
You're telling me to be mature? Have you seen the way
you
act around her? You two are like a couple of bratty kindergartners when you're together.”

I knew I'd hit a sore spot with Devon, who took pride in the fact that she acted like she was in her midthirties. At least.

“Why? Because we know how to have fun? I made a point of spending the afternoon with you when I could be having a lot more fun with Maggie. I bet she's the life of the party on the hike she's on right now. Too bad I'm not with her.”

As soon as I'd said that, I felt bad. But it was too late, I couldn't take it back. I noticed how Devon's lips pressed together when she heard it. She held her head up, trying to act like she didn't care about the mean thing I'd just said.

“Oh, I'm sure she is. I can see her now in the trees—hanging
upside down by her toes.” Devon swatted at the end of the arrow stuck in the grass.

I felt so guilty. I really had been having fun with Devon. I should apologize now, tell her I didn't really mean that.

Instead I snatched her arrow out of the grass and brushed the dirt off its pointed tip, then nocked it into the bow string and aimed at the target. It stuck in the gold—my first shot to hit dead center since we'd started.

“Hey, that was my arrow,” Devon protested.

“Too bad,” I told her. “And you're ruining my birthday.”

“I'm not ruining your birthday,” she snapped.

She wasn't really. I didn't want us to fight. But I couldn't force an apology out of my mouth.

“Well . . . it started out happy but it's gotten worse as the day goes on,” I said. “Thanks to you.” I stood there, fuming. I knew I was just making things worse, but I couldn't seem to stop myself.

Devon laid her bow down in the grass and started to walk off. When she was about ten feet away, she glanced over her shoulder. “Cheer up. You can spend the rest of the day with your
best
friend. I'm sure you two will have more fun than a barrel of monkeys.”