“Yes,” Christy volunteered in the room of five of her peers. “Except one of them keeps calling me ‘Teach.’”
“Don't worry,” the dean said. “We've heard worse around here. Now we want all of you to meet each other. I prefer you call me Dean Ferrill rather than Bob or Mr. Ferrill.”
The girl next to Christy was Jessica, and the other girl counselor was Diane. The guy counselors were Mike, Bob, and Jaeson. They each told where they lived and a little bit. about themselves. Mike and Bob were two college guys from Christy's church. Jaeson was from the same church as Jessica and Diane.
Dean Ferrill explained that several of the campers were what he called “potentially high maintenance” because they were from difficult home situations. He explained that some of them would be acting younger than their age because of their emotional challenges.
“We're not going to label these kids because we want all of them to be treated equally, but we want you to know that you may have expectations of your campers that are higher than what some of them are capable of handling. Be patient. Love them all the same.”
He went over the schedule for the evening, stressed the camp rules again, and then prayed. Christy thought his prayer was touching, especially when he prayed for each of the counselors and for the campers as if the salvation of each kid was the most important thing in his life. Christy knew she could survive the week with him on her side.
As the meeting broke up, Christy approached Jaeson. “Hi, I have something to give you. I forgot it back at my cabin. It's a pretty sophisticated pocketknife I confiscated from one of your boys. His name is Nicholas.”
“Yeah, Nick said one of the girls wouldn't leave him alone.”
Jaeson looked like he was born to be a camp counselor. He had an athletic build and short black hair, with facial features that seemed chiseled out of stone. His sunglasses hung around his neck on a black foam strap, and on his wrist were half a dozen leather “friendship bracelets” the campers had learned to braid at craft time.
“Why don't you bring it to the meeting tonight? I'll keep it for him.”
“Thanks,” Christy said.
She hurried up the trail to her cabin to grab her sweatshirt and the knife before the meeting started. When she opened the cabin door, three of the girls scampered like frightened mice.
“What are you guys doing?” Christy scanned the room for a clue. She spotted her makeup bag open on Amy's bed.
“Hey, what are you doing in my things?” She looked at her bunk and saw her duffel bag was open with some of her clothes pulled halfway out.
The three culprits, Sara, Amy, and Jocelyn, stood frozen.
Sara spoke up. “You said you were going to be in that meeting for about an hour. You weren't gone that long.”
“Wait a minute,” Christy said firmly, feeling her temperature rising. “The meeting has nothing to do with this. You got into my things without permission.” She noticed that Amy appeared to have awfully pink cheeks and black smears around her eyes.
“Were you in my makeup, Amy?”
“Yes, Teach. But I was going to put it back.”
“That doesn't matter,” Christy spouted, looking at the three of them sternly. “You do not get into other people's things! Do you understand me?”
The three solemnly nodded.
“Amy, go wash your face. Sara and Jocelyn, put my things back the way you found them. Now!”
The girls fled to obey the orders. Sara knelt to repack Christy's bag and started to sniffle.
“You're mean,” Sara said under her breath. “I wish you weren't our counselor!”
Christy felt like saying the feeling was mutual when she noticed what Sara was wearing. “Is that my sweatshirt, by any chance?”
Sara pulled the sweatshirt off and threw it on the cabin floor. “I was only trying it on. I wasn't going to really wear it!”
Snatching it up, Christy shook it out and put it on. Then grabbing her backpack, she felt inside for the pock-etknife, which was still there. The girls finished zipping up the bag of now-crumpled clothes and rose to their feet. Sara was still crying, and Jocelyn's lip was lowered in a pout.
“We're sorry,” Jocelyn said. “We won't do it again.”
Something inside Christy told her to take both girls in her arms and hug them. Maybe these three were some of the ones who had special needs. But she was too upset at the moment. Instead Christy took two steps backward and ordered them to get their jackets and come to the evening meeting with her. Maybe the evening's message would straighten them out.
The girls obeyed, still sniffling. Amy met them at the door, her face scrubbed and her expression almost frightened.
“Get your jacket and come with us,” Christy said firmly.
She marched them down the hill to the meeting, making them sit with her instead of with their friends. The singing was lively and fun, but Christy's three prisoners didn't join in. They sat quietly through the speaker's message.
Christy began to feel bad for coming down so hard on them. She knew they were still thinking about what had happened in the cabin and not paying attention to the message. -As soon as the meeting was over, she told them they were free to go to the mess hall for the evening snack.
Just before the girls left the building, Jaeson came up to Christy and asked about the knife. She took her backpack off her shoulder to retrieve the knife and accidentally swung it too far, hittingJaeson in the chest.
“Oh, I'm sorry! I didn't realize how heavy it was.”
Jaeson appeared unaffected. He reached over and gently squeezed Christy's shoulder. “You're going to get a muscle spasm before the week is over if you keep carrying that around.”
“I'll lighten the load tonight,” she promised, noticing that the three girls had reappeared by her side. They were apparently curious as to what was going on between their counselor and this buff guy, who was touching her in public.
Christy handed Jaeson the pocketknife and said, “I told Nick you would decide whether to give it back to him.”
“No problem,” Jaeson said. “Thanks for catching it for me.”
“Can I try on your sunglasses?” Sara looked up at Jaeson, her ginger eyes bright with admiration.
“Maybe tomorrow,” he said kindly. “You'd better run over to the mess hall if you want to get any cookies before the guys scarf them all.”
“Are you coming?” Sara asked.
“Sure, we'll go with you,” Jaeson said. “Come on, Christy. They always have peanut butter cookies on Sunday nights. They're the best.”
“You've done this before, I take it,” Christy said as they were escorted across camp by three sets of big ears.
“This is my third year. I started last week, and I'm staying until the end of July. How about you?”
“This is my first time as a counselor. I'm not sure I'm going to be very good at this,” she admitted, still feeling bad for the way she had treated the girls.
“Oh, you're the best counselor we've ever had, isn't she?” Sara asked the other two girls. “And she's pretty too, isn't she, Jaeson?”
Christy felt her cheeks warming. How could these little girls change their opinion of her so instantly?
Before Jaeson could answer, Amy popped in with, “And if there's anything she needs to learn about camp, you can teach her. 'Cuz she's our Teach, so you can teach her. Get it?”
By then, thankfully, they had arrived at the mess hall, and Jaeson graciously said, “If I can help you out in any way, let me know. I'm sure you'll have a great week.”
“Oh, she will, won't you, Teach?” Amy answered enthusiastically before running off with the other girls in a fit of giggles.
That night it took two hours for the girls to settle down. Even then, Christy worried that one of them might fake being asleep and sneak out the minute she dozed off. She lay half awake, half asleep, listening for rustling in the silence.
After some time, she checked her alarm clock with her flashlight: 1:25-
/>
I'm never going to wake up at six! And this is only the first night.
The second night didn't go much better. The day was packed with activities for the campers. Christy thought for sure with all the swimming, horseback riding, and archery, combined with last night's late hours, the girls would willingly tumble into bed.
No, they wanted to talk. About boys.
“You girls are only going into the fifth grade. You're too young to be so interested in boys,” Christy said from her bunk once she had gotten them all in bed and the lights out.
“People mature faster now,” Sara informed her. 'We're much more grown-up than we were last year. When did you first start to like guys?”
Christy had to think back. She remembered going to summer camp with her best friend, Paula, right before they went into seventh grade. When she thought about it, she and Paula did spend most of that week trying to get the boys' attention.
“It doesn't matter,” Christy said. “The point is, there's lots more to do at camp than occupy yourselves with guys. Besides, none of them seems to be very interested in you girls yet. You see, girls mature more quickly than boys.”
“We know all that, Teach,” Amy said from her bunk across the dark cabin. “Tell us stuff we don't know.”
“Stuff you don't know?”
“Yeah, like what it's like to be kissed by your boyfriend,” Sara said.
“She said she only 'sort of had a boyfriend,” Amy interjected. “I thinkJaeson wants to be your boyfriend.”
All the girls joined in a noisy chorus of agreement and approval.
“Hush,” Christy said. “We have to be quiet or Dean Ferrill will come up like he did last night and tell us to settle down. I don't want to get in trouble again.”
“Don't you think he's cute?” Jocelyn said in a loud whisper.
“Who?” Christy played it cool. “Dean Ferrill? Sure, I suppose he's cute, for a man who's old enough to be my father.”
“No, not him. Jaeson.”
'You know what, girls?” Christy said sternly. “It's too late to have a discussion like this. I want you all to quiet down and go to sleep.”
A round of complaints followed.
“I mean it!” Christy said gruffly. “All of you settle down right now.”
Just then there was a loud knock on their cabin door. Dean Ferrill's voice boomed out. “Is everything okay, Christy?”
“Yes,” Christy answered. “The girls were just going to sleep, weren't you, girls?”
Someone faked loud snoring, and another girl said, “Hey, stop knocking on our door! We're trying to sleep in here.”
“Good night, ladies,” the dean said firmly. “I don't want to have to come back up here to check on you again.”
“You won't have to,” Christy promised. “We're going to sleep now.”
The girls remained quiet as they listened to Dean Ferrill walk away from their cabin.
All of a sudden, into the stillness, Sara called out, “Hey, Dean Ferrill, Christy thinks you're cute for an old guy!”
Dean Ferrill asked the next morning at the counselors meeting.
“Pretty good. I apologize for Sara's comment last night.”
“Don't worry about it. How do the girls seem to be responding spiritually?”
“Not much, I'd say. I could use some pointers on what I should be doing.”
“What are your plans for cabin devos?” Jessica asked. She carried herself like a model, with straight posture and gentle movements. She had excelled during the swimming competition the day before.
Her caramel-colored hair was back in a ponytail today, and her delicate face looked as though she followed a strict skin-care program. Without a touch of makeup she looked beautiful.
“Cabin devos?” Christy asked.
“Devotions. What are you doing with the girls at night before you go to bed?”
“Yelling at them,” Christy answered, half joking, half serious.
“Devotions really help to calm them down, and I think you'll get the most open responses from them then,” Jessica said. “Wbuld you like to get together during free time this afternoon? I could give you some ideas.”
“Great! I'd appreciate that.”
Christy thought she noticed Jaeson smiling at her. She wondered if it was because he was thinking she was inexperienced or if he was being nice. The meeting again ended with a wonderful prayer time for the campers. Christy felt certain something of eternal value would have to break through with her girls soon, the way everyone was praying.
That morning at recreation, Christy's girls went up against Jaeson's boys at archery. Christy didn't look forward to the competition. She hadn't shot a bow and arrow since she was in junior high. Thankfully her girls had come to expect her to be the expert in everything, and right now she appreciated all the votes of confidence she could get from them.
The girls all lined up, facing the stacks of hay with the target tacked to the center. Christy picked up a bow and showed her girls how to hold it and aim for the target. She let the arrow fly. It whooshed a grand total of about three feet and landed uncomfortably close to Jaeson's foot.
The campers broke into laughter as the red-faced Christy made her way to the boys' side to retrieve her wayward arrow.
“Sorry,” she muttered to Jaeson. “I don't know what went wrong.”
“You had your elbow down. Hold it up flat like this,” Jaeson said, demonstrating with the bow in his hand.
Christy tried to imitate his stance and elbow position. It didn't feel right. “Like this? Or higher?” she asked.
“May I?” Jaeson put down his bow and stepped over next to Christy. He put his muscular arm around her shoulders and placed his hand on top of hers. “Pull back like this,” he instructed. “Keep your elbow up. Do you feel that?”
Christy was starting to feel something, all right. She felt the eyes of her campers drinking in the scene before them. She knew she would never convince them that he was only helping her.
“Now try,” Jaeson said, stepping back.
Christy let go of the taut string, and the arrow zinged through the air, hitting the white part of the circle.
“All right! Good job!” Jaeson praised. “You guys all see that?”
A couple of the older boys said, “Yeah, we saw it, Jaeson. You sure you don't want us to leave so you two can be alone?”
Jaeson ignored the comment. He put his arm around the shoulders of the first boy in line and demonstrated the correct position the same way he had with Christy.
She approached her flock of twittering birdies with a serious expression. “Who's first?”
The girls had giddy expressions in their eyes as they whispered among themselves.
“Sara,” Christy called. “You try it first.”
Christy wrapped her arm around Sara and imitated Jaeson's correct archery stance. She hoped the girls would think this was the way everyone was taught how to shoot an arrow, with your arm around them.
Ignoring all the “Cupid” comments, Christy patiently showed each girl how to shoot. She was amazed at how readily the girls responded as she put her arm around them. They seemed eager to please her, and she began to see them in a different light. Not as brats, but as babies away from home and needing a big hug.
When their time was almost up, Christy glanced over at the boys and saw Jaeson watching her. He smiled and gave her a thumbs-up sign.
She felt like during the last few days she had been building up a reservoir of wonder about Jaeson. She wondered if he liked her. She wondered if he was looking at her across the mess hall. She wondered if he would be at the pool during free time.
With Jaeson's thumbs-up, the reservoir of wonder overflowed, flooding her with thoughts of Jaeson, Jaeson, Jaeson.
At lunch she looked for where he was sitting before she chose her table. The rule was only one counselor at each table. She thought if she spotted him right away, she could sit at the table next to his so their chairs would be bac
k to back. Her plan worked. There was an empty table next to his and an empty chair behind him. She slid in quietly, as if she didn't notice he was there.
“Hi,” Jaeson said. “Did you see the final score on the archery practice?”
“No, I didn't. How did we do?”
“Your girls beat my guys by ten points.”
“You're kidding! I never would have guessed it,” Christy said, smiling. “Thanks for all your help.”
“Anytime,” Jaeson smiled back.
Just then the mess hall doors opened, and the campers were let in. They ran like escaping guinea pigs, not sure where they were going but feverish about being the first one to get there. Christy's girls filled in at her table in record time and took turns poking each other with their elbows.
Jessica came over to Christy's table with two adoring campers holding on to each arm. “Where do you want to meet after lunch?” Jessica asked above the roar.
Christy shrugged, looking to Jessica for a suggestion.
“How about the lodge?”
Christy nodded, and Jessica surrendered to the persuasion of her two-arm fan club.
When Christy went to meet Jessica in the lodge as arranged, she kept checking over her shoulder to see if Jaeson might be following her. He seemed to be headed in the direction of the craft barn. Maybe she should go over after her meeting with Jessica—to check on any of her girls that might be there, of course.
“First,” Jessica said when they had seated themselves on the old couch, “I'm not trying to tell you how to relate to your girls. I know you're doing a great job. I didn't want you to think I was trying to step in this morning and tell you what to do.”
“I didn't think that at all. I need all the help I can get!”
For half an hour Jessica made some good suggestions about how to put a devotion together and what worked best for her last year when she was a counselor for the first time.
“It's actually easier this year with the group I have. They're the youngest batch, the ones just going into fourth grade. Some of them are having a hard time because this is the first time they've been away from home on their own. And they're not real good about their hygiene without being reminded. But they're not real boy-crazy yet. At least not all of them.”