Page 8 of Patiently Alice


  And then Mary and Josephine had to go to the bathroom, and they were the ones who made the discovery.

  “Latisha!” the girls bellowed together, and Gwen and I came running.

  Josephine would use only the stall that didn’t have a lock on it because she was afraid she might not be able to get out. When she’d swung the door open, she told us, there was Latisha, standing up on the toilet seat, hidden behind the door. We could have looked, should have looked, not just taken a cursory glance under each door, looking for feet.

  All I could do was put my arms around Latisha and hug her to me. I didn’t have any voice to scold. And strangely enough, this time Latisha hugged back.

  8

  * * *

  News from Silver Spring

  The next morning dawned dark and gloomy, and we had crafts in the big dining hall, while rain pattered down outside, spilling out the rainspouts and drumming on the roof. All the doors and windows were open, so the humid air brought with it the faint odor of mustiness and mildew, typical summer camp. The kids were working on making little baskets out of twigs, which they could then fill with small treasures found here at Overlook—pine cones and such—and take them with them when they left for home.

  Mary had told me that Josephine was sick, so I’d taken her to the camp nurse, but it turned out that her temperature was normal, and the sickness seemed to be a figment of Mary’s imagination. When I got Josephine back to the dining hall, Gwen had a second project in progress.

  One of the tables was covered with newspaper, and Gwen had about six different colors of paint in little containers in the center of the table. They were various shades of white, brown, black, yellow, orange, and red.

  Each girl, Gwen said, was to take some of the paint and put it on her saucer. She was to keep mixing different colors until she matched the color of her own skin.

  “Huh?” said Estelle. “I’m white. You’re black.”

  “Really?” said Gwen, sitting down beside her. “Let’s see.”

  Gwen put some black paint on her saucer, then smeared some on her arm. There was a great contrast between the pecan brown color of her skin and the paint.

  “Now let’s try you,” she said, and put white on Estelle’s saucer. Estelle smeared white on her arm, and of course it didn’t match at all.

  The Coyotes were engrossed in the project, and each began experimenting. Latisha and Ruby started out with brown paint, but it was much too dark. Mary and Josephine and Estelle started out with white paint, and it was much too white. Kim, strangely, chose orange as her color, but it didn’t match any better than the others. Just to be different, I took red.

  “You look like a ghost!” Latisha said to Estelle.

  Silently, Estelle mixed some yellow into the white paint on her saucer, then tried that on her arm. No match.

  “You’ve gotta add some of that!” Kim said, pointing to the brown. Estelle mixed in a bit of brown. Better. She mixed in some more. Better still.

  “Hey, look! I’m an Indian!” said Mary, making red stripes on her arm.

  Several kids from a nearby table came over to watch. I looked at Gwen in admiration. She hadn’t said a word. She had merely put out the paints, and every girl at the table learned that each of us is made up of a lot of different colors.

  Connie was impressed. “Did you think this one up on your own, Gwen?” she asked.

  “No. It’s a project we did at summer Bible school,” said Gwen.

  “Well, I’m going to remember this one with my next load of campers,” Connie told her. “I’m glad you’re on board, Gwen.”

  So was I.

  We lost the war with Latisha, though. Because lunch was served buffet style, everyone helped himself, and by evening we were back to our usual dinner routine, one runner serving the whole table, Latisha included. Gwen and I were too tired to carry it further. We knew we hadn’t handled it well, but we didn’t want her disappearing again.

  “We can’t win them all, and we can’t reach them all, either,” Gwen told me. “If we do a good job with the others, we’ll just have to accept that five out of six isn’t bad.”

  A farm nearby allowed Camp Overlook to bring the children over a few times each summer to ride horses. So we marched the kids over there Wednesday afternoon, hiking across a high, breezy pasture, the campers exclaiming and jumping over cow pies, but I was surprised at the number who declared they’d never get on a horse. What surprised me even more was my own reluctance.

  I’d never been on horseback, never been on a farm, really. Horses were something I saw from a distance. But suddenly here we were, standing at a fence, as six or seven horses were led out of a barn and saddled up. Richard rode one over to the fence and it seemed far larger than I had expected. When it rolled its eyes and snorted and chomped down on the bit, Josie gave a cry and dived behind my legs, and even Latisha vowed she wouldn’t ride.

  Connie walked alongside the horse as it moved down the line of campers. She told them its name—Soldier—and held up some of the braver children to stroke its side, but all it took was a toss of the head from Soldier and the kids cowered again. Only a dozen or so said they were willing to get on.

  “It doesn’t matter if you’ve never been on a horse,” said Connie to the kids. She looked around at the assistant counselors. “Where’s an assistant counselor who has never been on a horse. Doris? Tommie?”

  I raised my hand, thinking I would be in the majority, and was suddenly horrified to discover I was the only one. No! They had to be lying! How could it be that I’d reached the age of fifteen and was the only one here who hadn’t been on horseback? I quickly lowered my hand. Did ponies count? Ponies at a fairground? But I wasn’t even sure I’d done that. A merry-go-round! Yes! I’d ridden a merry-go-round!

  But then I heard Connie say, “Okay, Alice. Come right in here. We’re going to start you out with Richard.” I shrank back, shaking my head, and then I heard Estelle say, “Just tell her you’re not gonna do it, Alice. You don’t have to!” And then I knew I had to.

  The farmer opened the gate so I could get through. I was trying to smile and swallow at the same time. He walked me over to Soldier, who lifted one hoof impatiently and put it down again with another toss of his head. What if he bit me? What if he kicked?

  “The kids will feel safer if they can ride along with someone,” Connie said, “so we’re going to put you up there with Richard and show them how it’s done.”

  Richard smiled down at me and moved back a little in the saddle. He slipped one foot out of the stirrup so I could use it to hoist myself up.

  “Here you go,” the farmer said, and I awkwardly swung my other leg over the horse, almost hitting Richard in the chest. Then I was in the saddle in front of him, and his arms were on either side of me, holding the reins.

  “Just relax,” Richard said as we moved forward. “He’s really very gentle.”

  Connie was giving instructions, explaining how you tell a horse to go, to stop, to turn, to trot. I focused on Soldier’s ears, the way they raised, then flattened, then twitched, as though he could understand everything we said. How do you tell a horse that you’re scared half out of your mind? To be merciful?

  Just as I was getting used to the feel of the horse beneath me, the heat of its body soaking into my thighs and calves, I could feel Richard make some slight movement and Soldier began to trot.

  “Oh!” I said, startled.

  “It’s okay,” Richard said into my hair. “Just hold on to the saddle.”

  But my fingers dug into his thighs like claws, and I was afraid to let go. My spine felt so stiff against Richard’s chest, I was afraid I’d push him backward, but I couldn’t help myself.

  “Trust me,” came his voice. It was all that was left to do. I held on as we went once around the paddock, and then the horse slowed to a walk, and it was someone else’s turn to feel their insides turn to jelly. Richard brought Soldier to the gate again, and I slid off. Other campers stepped forward,
and other horses were put into use.

  “You did good, Alice!” Ruby said.

  “Yeah! I thought he was going to buck!” said Mary.

  “Was it fun?” asked Latisha.

  “It was an adventure,” I said, perspiration trickling down from my armpits.

  “Well, maybe I’ll go next week,” Latisha told us.

  We were coming back from the baseball diamond on Friday when I saw Lester outside the office, talking with Connie, hands in his pockets. Actually, Pamela saw him first.

  “Studly!” she cried. That’s what Pamela calls every guy who looks sexy to her.

  Actually, he looked as though he’d been digging ditches, because he was windblown and sweat-stained. Handsome, nonetheless.

  “Gwen, can you take over for me?” I asked.

  “Tell him to stick around so we can see him too,” said Pamela.

  Lester pulled one hand out of his jeans’ pocket and waved when he saw us, smiling at me as I crossed the clearing, Kim sticking to my side.

  “Who’s that? Your boyfriend?” Estelle asked.

  “My brother,” I said.

  Latisha gave a little whistle. “He good-looking, all right,” she said, making Mary and Ruby laugh.

  “This is a surprise!” I told Lester as Connie smiled and went back in the office, but my pulse was speeding up. Why had he driven all the way up here? Why hadn’t he just called? There must have been something about my face that told him how anxious I was, because Lester held up one hand to stop me. “Hey! Nobody died,” he said, which only told me that something had happened.

  Gwen herded the Coyotes on by, practically peeling Kim away from me, and Pamela and Elizabeth took their own girls into the dining hall for their afternoon popcorn and lemonade.

  I gave Lester a hug but studied his eyes when I backed off. “So?” I said.

  “Relax, will you? I’ve been mountain biking. Met some buddies up here yesterday, and we rented a cabin and some bikes. Figured I was so close, I might as well drop by the camp and check it out on the way home.”

  “Spy on me, you mean.” I laughed, steering him over to a bench under an oak tree. I fanned myself with the hem of my T-shirt. “We just finished a baseball game. Let me cool off, and then I’ll show you around. So what’s happening back home?”

  “Well, there is a bit of disappointing news. Sylvia…”

  I stopped fanning. “What?”

  “Sylvia…”

  “She didn’t! She broke their engagement?”

  “No, Al!”

  “She’s been in an accident?”

  “Al, will you please shut up for five seconds? Her sister is very ill in Albuquerque, and Sylvia’s flying out there. The wedding’s been postponed.”

  “Oh, Lester! No!”

  “I’m afraid so. Dad’s pretty disappointed, as you can guess, but he agrees there’s nothing else to do. Nancy was in the hospital for a bowel operation, and she’s developed septicemia. Blood poisoning. It can be really serious.”

  “How can she be having a bowel operation? She’s supposed to be Sylvia’s maid of honor!”

  “Tell that to her bowels. She didn’t plan it, Al.”

  “But how long will Sylvia be gone?”

  “Till her sister’s out of danger and recovering, I imagine.”

  “But… but that could be a long time! Sylvia and Dad could have the wedding, and then she could go to Albuquerque! Lester, she and Dad were this close to getting married! First she goes to England. Now she’s going to Albuquerque. Doesn’t she care anything about Dad’s feelings? Doesn’t she—”

  “Al,” Les said sternly, “grow up.”

  I stopped cold. “What?”

  “You’re talking like an eight-year-old.”

  “But it’s true! Dad will be so hurt! If it’s going to take a long time for her sister to get better, they could get married and go on their honeymoon, and then Sylvia could take care of her!”

  “Her sister could die.”

  I stared at Lester. “It’s… it’s that serious?”

  He nodded. “And what kind of honeymoon do you think they would have with Sylvia worried constantly about Nancy?”

  “What kind of wedding will they have if Nancy dies?” I countered. My shoulders slumped and I sat with my legs apart, arms dangling between my knees. “I was all set to be her bridesmaid. She took my measurements and everything!”

  “So is this about your feelings or Sylvia’s?”

  I felt like crying, but I saw Craig and Ross glance at me from across the clearing, and Lester’s admonition to grow up kept the tears back, I guess.

  I sighed instead. “Is there anything I can do? Does Dad want me to come home now?”

  “No, not at all. He’s driving Sylvia to the airport this afternoon, and I told him I’d look in on you while I was up here—make sure the guys were treating you with respect.”

  I kicked his foot and we laughed. It felt good to laugh about something.

  “They’re really nice,” I said. “The assistant counselor’s part is hard, though. It’s work keeping track of the kids, but the guys are fun.”

  “How much fun?” Lester said, raising one eyebrow.

  “Well,” I teased, “for one thing, we went swimming one night, and the guys were naked.”

  “Whoa!” Lester said, and looked at me hard.

  “The girls had their clothes on, though.”

  “Yeah? Paint me a picture,” Les said.

  So I told him how we had sat on the boys’ clothes and how the guys had come out and thrown us in. I wanted to tell him just enough to make him nervous but not enough to make him worry. Then Elizabeth and Pamela came out of the dining hall and sauntered over.

  “Hi, handsome,” Pamela said, sitting down next to Lester so that their thighs touched. She’s shameless.

  “Hey! How’s it going?” he asked her.

  “Great!” said Elizabeth. “The boys are terrific!”

  “Yeah?” said Les.

  “We went to a bar the other night,” Pamela told him.

  “A restaurant,” I corrected. “We didn’t drink, Lester, and an older counselor drove. It was pure, wholesome fun.”

  “I’ll bet,” said Lester.

  “You don’t have to worry about a thing,” said Pamela. “Besides, Elizabeth brought condoms.”

  “Pamela!” Elizabeth yelled.

  Lester looked at her, then at me.

  “They’re for Pamela,” I said.

  “Alice!” cried Pamela.

  Lester looked around. “I take it there is adult supervision up here?”

  “Yes, Lester. We’re perfectly fine.” I turned to Pamela and Elizabeth. “Sylvia’s sister is sick and the wedding’s been postponed. She’s flying to Albuquerque this afternoon.”

  “Oh, Alice!” they said together.

  “It’s not the end of the world,” I told them, trying to summon a little maturity. “I guess it will be a fall wedding. Whenever Nancy gets better, that is.…”

  “So, are you going to show me around?” Les asked.

  “Sure.” I jumped up and grabbed his arm. The kids were all in the dining hall now having their snack, so Pamela and Elizabeth went with us. We showed Lester the river and the canoes, the paths in the woods, and then Pamela and Elizabeth went back to the dining hall while Les and I walked to the overlook.

  It was a really gorgeous afternoon—not too hot—and we could see layers of mountains, fading as clouds moved by, then coming into focus again. Les put his arm around me, and this time I felt the tears coming.

  “I… f-feel so sorry for Dad,” I gulped.

  “So do I. But it will all work out, Al. When you’ve got somebody to share your troubles, it’s a lot easier. He still has Sylvia, you know.” And then, realizing that I didn’t have a boyfriend, he said, “And even if you don’t have somebody special, you—”

  “Cool it, Lester. I’m not about to jump off the overlook because Sylvia postponed the wedding,” I said.


  He laughed and gave my waist a little tug. “Okay. Let’s talk about you. What’s the deal about the condoms?”

  “Elizabeth brought some,” I said. And added, laughing, “A ribbed Trojan with a lubricated tip.”

  Lester choked. “Elizabeth?”

  I grinned. “She said they’re for Pamela, except she gave them to Gwen, and I don’t know who has them now.”

  “You’re not sharing condoms, are you?”

  “Les, I’m not even having sex. Relax.”

  “Whew!” he said. “Okay. I’m relaxed. It is a nice place up here. I hope you’re having a good time.”

  “I am. I’m glad I came.”

  We walked back and I introduced him to a few of the guys. Then Les talked a few minutes with Jack Harrigan, and finally he drove away.

  There’s mail call every day at three o’clock, and I went up to the office to see if I got something. I didn’t. There was an envelope for Pamela, though. If any one of the assistant counselors needed a letter, I thought, it was Pamela. First her mom got everyone upset by leaving the family, and then she got them upset by saying she wanted to come back. Pamela seemed not to even want to think about it.

  “Hey, Pamela! For you!” I said, waving the letter, and sat down beside her on the steps. As soon as she saw the postmark, though, her face clouded up. I looked the other way while she read it.

  “Guess who’s coming to town,” Pamela said, crumpling up the letter into a tight little ball, then angrily squeezing it again for good measure.

  “I don’t know,” I said, hesitating.

  “Mom.”

  I studied her for a moment. “She really is, then! She wrote you from Colorado? How did she get the address up here?”

  “Who knows? She finds out everything.”

  “When is she coming?

  “She doesn’t say. I don’t want to be around when she shows up,” Pamela said determinedly. “Let me stay at your place or something when she does, Alice! There’ll probably be a big scene, and I just don’t think I could take it. I can’t understand why she’d even want to come back if Dad doesn’t love her anymore.”