Teddy appeared while I was with Maggie and Roger, who was unplugging the speakers. “I wanted to make sure you were okay before I see to Jack.”
“A little shaken but yeah, I’m fine.”
“I’ll check back with you later.” Teddy ran toward Jack.
Maggie, Roger, and I saw him at the same time: Dylan, the camp photographer, had been videoing the Awards Ceremony, and Jack’s outburst had been broadcast live to the families.
“Hey, Dylan, you should stop taping,” Roger said.
Dylan had a sardonic grin on his face. “Are you kidding? Jack treated me like crap all summer.”
“Talk about digging your own grave,” Maggie said.
I barely heard the radio over the commotion. “Hello, is anyone out there? Please, someone pick up for Nicole.”
“This is Lori.”
“Lori, good, what’s going on out there? The phones are ringing off the hook.”
“Short answer, Jack lost his shit during the ceremony while the parents were watching on video.”
“Jesus!”
“Nicole, this is Gilda. I’m on my way to help.”
“Good. Thanks. Nicole out.”
The mood of the camp had been chill—all kumbaya. But once Jack let the vulgarities rip, any semblance of decorum was lost in the August haze.
The bleachers emptied. The older girls and boys flirted while the rest of the campers played in the outfield, running the bases, chasing each other, and cartwheeling. Spontaneously, the entire camp was having a joyous free-for-all. It reminded me of the first day of camp, the kids descending from the buses filled with excitement and anticipation for the summer ahead, and now it was the culmination of the camaraderie and shared experiences on this, the last day.
Maggie and Roger started packing up the stereo system, but I asked them to plug it back in and play something danceable.
When the music began, Abby and I started singing and bopping on the pitcher’s mound. A bunch of counselors joined us,and soon we were in the middle of an impromptu dance party. It was a perfect diversion to keep the kid’s focus away from what had unfolded before them . . . and their parents.
Teddy caught my eye as Abby and I danced to “I’m a Believer.”
He joined me, grinning. “I see how you’ve single-handedly kept the camp running while the assistant directors are dealing with Jack.”
“What about you? Aren’t you an assistant director? What’ve you been doing?”
“Watching and learning from a pro. Well done, Kramer.” He actually clapped.
“Thanks. I’m going to end the party after this song. The kids have to shower and get ready for the Banquet.”
“Good idea. I’ll walk with you—first I need to check on a couple of things.”
When he was out of earshot, Abby said, “You two seem to have some kind of connection.”
I shrugged and picked up the mic. “Attention Woodlands Campers. It’s time to get ready for tonight’s Banquet.”
Roger put on the Miami Sound Machine and the campers conga-ed their way off the field.
Teddy caught up with me on the road. “Let me take that.” He hoisted my chair over his shoulder.
“I have to tell you something. I may have messed things up for us,” I said.
He stopped and looked at me. “What could you have possibly done?”
