Later that day, the Cubs had arts & crafts, and I strolled through the rooms to see the projects that Maggie had set up for each bunk. There were six girls on potter’s wheels perpendicular to a floor-to-ceiling chain-linked gate that surrounded the kiln. The rest of that bunk sat at a long table, hand-building pots while waiting their turn at the wheel.
The next room had buckets of beads. Jasmine, who was hired to work with Maggie in arts & crafts, was fully awake and snipping wire from a spool for each girl. Taped to the table in front of them was a diagram of how to bead the wire to spell out the word “Camp.” I smiled at Jasmine, trying to convey a no-hard-feelings look, but she turned away.
A jewelry-making class occupied the coffee room, and campers in the fourth room painted with watercolors, using the tree outside the window as their model.
Maggie asked me to step outside. “Jasmine told me she was late this morning because you poured water over her head.”
“I couldn’t get her up.” I shrugged. “But that’s not a reason for her to be late.”
“We need to keep an eye on her,” Maggie said.
“I’ll talk to her before things escalate.”
“Good idea, I’ll send her out.”
Jasmine was not happy with me. Before I could say anything, she said, “You poured water on me, and that’s not okay.”
“You’re right, and I’m sorry. But there are expectations that come with this job, and you were shirking them. You need to get out of bed and to arts & crafts on time. Everything here runs on a tight schedule.”
“Great—now you and Maggie are ganging up on me.”
“You’re wrong. We want you to succeed—it makes everyone’s life easier if you do.”
I wasn’t sure, but it seemed like Jasmine was about to cry. Then she threw her shoulders back and, with a defiant look on her face, said, “My parents told me that once I turned eighteen, I was on my own. I took this job because I needed a place to live until school starts.”
I was stunned by her admission, but feeling sorry for her wasn’t going to change the fact that she had to step it up. “Then let’s work together to ensure that you keep the job.”
I put my hand out to her. She looked at it for a moment, and then she took it.
“Truce?” I asked.
“I guess I have no choice,” she said.
“That’s one way to see it, but wouldn’t it be better to look at this summer as a learning experience that could be fun for both of us?”
We stared at each other for a moment, until she finally said, “I’ll try.”
All the information thrown at me the prior week flew around my brain like a silver ball bouncing in a pinball machine, pinging all the things I was supposed to do every day. I was in a constant state oftilt.
One crucial thing I had to remember was the girl who needed a nightly growth hormone shot, Natalie in cabin three. When I entered the bunk, I was surrounded by twelve eager campers vying for my attention. But before they spoke, I said, “Hold up everyone, I’ll be back to answer your questions, but first I have to do something with Natalie.”
Natalie looked up questioningly and pointed to herself.
“Yes, put your sneakers on, throw your hoodie over your pajamas, and let’s take a walk together.”
I whispered into one of the counselor’s ears, “I’m taking her to the infirmary.”
When we arrived, Nurse Ella asked, “Who do we have here?”
“This is Natalie Goodman, here for her growth hormone shot.”
The nurse flipped the pages in front of her. “Ah, yes, here we are. Natalie Goodman, come with me, I’ll be administering your shot every evening.”
Natalie began crying.
“It’s okay, I promised your parents that we would take good care of you,” I said.
“My mother didn’t tell me I was going to get shots at camp.”
