ago, but she looked older. She was tall and skinny. She fit in with the other girls in her cabin, and most of them were twelve or thirteen. Her mother lied to get Margaret into the older kid session of the camp. The under-ten camp ran earlier in the summer. This was just better timing. This way, her mother and father could align their vacations. They could get away together for the first time in years.
So she was stuck here, with all these older girls. At least her counsellor was nice. Sherri-Lynn had been teaching her to play chess, and it was more fun than Margaret expected. She liked how much sense it made. When she lost a piece, it wasn’t because of a roll of the dice, or how fast she could run. It was because she had made a mistake. She could see exactly what she had done wrong. That was weirdly satisfying. And so she had decided already that she would play as much as she could, whenever Sherri-Lynn was free to play with her.
But this morning, Sherri-Lynn had taken those girls to Father Tony, and Margaret didn’t know anyone else. She was upset and it felt like she was alone. And there were no cell phones here. Margaret was used to her cell phone. She never had to remember anyone’s number, because everything was right there, programmed into the small blue phone. It was easy. But there were no cell phones allowed at camp. So her mother had written down her number for Margaret in the front of a little notebook.
“You can call me whenever you like,” she said. And then she had driven away.
Like her mother, Margaret had dark, straight hair that constantly fell over her eyes. As she walked across the campground with the notebook clutched in her hand, she was glad to have the hair over her eyes. She was trying not to cry. She knew what was going on. Her mother had told her about menstruation. That’s all this was. She was having her first period. It was earlier than she expected but she knew that it was fine and she knew how she was supposed to deal with it. Seeing the blood had been a shock, though. She just wanted to hear her mother’s voice. She just wanted to hear her mother say that everything was okay, even if it was just on the phone.
And there had to be a phone in that main building. Someone would let her call her mother.
Martin’s cabin had first shower in the morning. Chip led everyone up to the showers in the main building. Martin had his towel folded in his hands, thick and plush and comforting. His soap was still wrapped in the waxy paper packaging, and it sat on top of the towel. He loved the rough edges of new soap, and how they softened over the first few days. He loved how the grass felt under his bare feet, too. Everything was pretty great this morning.
“I’ll check to make sure there aren’t any animals in the showers before you go in there,” Chip said. “And I’ll take a quick look up at the ceiling for wasps’ nests. The only thing worse than being stung by dozens of angry wasps is being stung by dozens of angry wasps when you’re naked.”
The shower room was tiled on the walls and floor, and the showers themselves were just a row of showerheads sticking out along one of the walls. Martin undressed down to his underwear and folded his clothes on the small bench, far enough away that they wouldn’t be splashed by any of the showers. Then he set his towel just beside them and took his soap, and he went under one of the showers.
“Martin, you can’t shower in your underpants,” Chip said, sticking his head in, and Ricky laughed. “You gotta get properly clean.”
Martin didn’t answer. What did it matter if he showered with his underwear on? He had a pair of clean ones folded into his towel, for him to change into afterward.
Chip said something else, but Martin ignored him. He unwrapped the soap and set it down against the wall, still sitting on the now-open wrapper. He turned the water on.
It was cool, but not cold, and Martin washed himself all over. The edges of the
So she was stuck here, with all these older girls. At least her counsellor was nice. Sherri-Lynn had been teaching her to play chess, and it was more fun than Margaret expected. She liked how much sense it made. When she lost a piece, it wasn’t because of a roll of the dice, or how fast she could run. It was because she had made a mistake. She could see exactly what she had done wrong. That was weirdly satisfying. And so she had decided already that she would play as much as she could, whenever Sherri-Lynn was free to play with her.
But this morning, Sherri-Lynn had taken those girls to Father Tony, and Margaret didn’t know anyone else. She was upset and it felt like she was alone. And there were no cell phones here. Margaret was used to her cell phone. She never had to remember anyone’s number, because everything was right there, programmed into the small blue phone. It was easy. But there were no cell phones allowed at camp. So her mother had written down her number for Margaret in the front of a little notebook.
“You can call me whenever you like,” she said. And then she had driven away.
Like her mother, Margaret had dark, straight hair that constantly fell over her eyes. As she walked across the campground with the notebook clutched in her hand, she was glad to have the hair over her eyes. She was trying not to cry. She knew what was going on. Her mother had told her about menstruation. That’s all this was. She was having her first period. It was earlier than she expected but she knew that it was fine and she knew how she was supposed to deal with it. Seeing the blood had been a shock, though. She just wanted to hear her mother’s voice. She just wanted to hear her mother say that everything was okay, even if it was just on the phone.
And there had to be a phone in that main building. Someone would let her call her mother.
Martin’s cabin had first shower in the morning. Chip led everyone up to the showers in the main building. Martin had his towel folded in his hands, thick and plush and comforting. His soap was still wrapped in the waxy paper packaging, and it sat on top of the towel. He loved the rough edges of new soap, and how they softened over the first few days. He loved how the grass felt under his bare feet, too. Everything was pretty great this morning.
“I’ll check to make sure there aren’t any animals in the showers before you go in there,” Chip said. “And I’ll take a quick look up at the ceiling for wasps’ nests. The only thing worse than being stung by dozens of angry wasps is being stung by dozens of angry wasps when you’re naked.”
The shower room was tiled on the walls and floor, and the showers themselves were just a row of showerheads sticking out along one of the walls. Martin undressed down to his underwear and folded his clothes on the small bench, far enough away that they wouldn’t be splashed by any of the showers. Then he set his towel just beside them and took his soap, and he went under one of the showers.
“Martin, you can’t shower in your underpants,” Chip said, sticking his head in, and Ricky laughed. “You gotta get properly clean.”
Martin didn’t answer. What did it matter if he showered with his underwear on? He had a pair of clean ones folded into his towel, for him to change into afterward.
Chip said something else, but Martin ignored him. He unwrapped the soap and set it down against the wall, still sitting on the now-open wrapper. He turned the water on.
It was cool, but not cold, and Martin washed himself all over. The edges of the
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