I laughed, shaking my head, turned, and walked away into the darkness. Bitchiness eventually rises to the surface.
14Bears and Worms and Mike
Iwoke to the sound of rain pattering against the window. I rolled over, thinking it was a perfect day to sleep in. By the time I reset my alarm, fluffed my pillow, and drew the covers back up, I was fully awake. Damn. I dressed and was ready to go walking. I put my ear to Abby’s door and heard her rhythmic breathing—she was sleeping in.
I wore my bright green rain poncho over green sweats and a camp hoodie. I didn’t own rain boots, and even if I did I wouldn’t wear them for a power walk. However, I’d brought water sneakers with me for swimming in the lake. The thought of touching the muck at the bottom made my skin crawl. I slipped them on before stepping out into the rain.
The steady drizzle made the lush campus look dreary. The only sounds were the squishing of my shoes on the wet ground and the slow drips of raindrops from the trees. I turned my radio volume up, so I’d hear it through my hoodie. Hopefully, the rain would break the suffocating humidity of the past few days.
Mindy’s and Bethany’s rooms were dark, as was the office. Seemed that everyone but me had made the sensible decision to stay in bed. Even the gnats that usually greeted me eachmorning had decided it was too miserable to bother. Jack would probably radio the DLs calling for a rainy-day schedule, which meant a later breakfast. I knew the campers, and especially the counselors, could use the extra sleep. Having nonstop fun each day was exhausting.
Passing the baseball diamond, I thought I saw something move, deep in the outfield. The fog was thick, and even when I squinted, I couldn’t tell if I imagined it.
I reached the steep paved path that led down to the lake. Taking it, I picked up my pace. The smell in the air changed—familiar, like damp metal. I remembered it from my childhood summers in the Catskills. I looked down and sure enough, wiggling worms covered the trail. I was covered in goose flesh—I abhorred worms and snakes, anything that slithered gave me the willies. I slowed my pace to avoid squashing them.
A thick mist covered the lake. If I hadn’t kayaked in its brisk waters yesterday, I’d swear it didn’t exist. I decided not to do my usual trek, it was damp and gloomy. The thought of a hot cup of coffee in arts & crafts seemed much more enticing than this desolate walk.
My hood did little to keep my hair dry and water kept dripping into my eyes. I reached into my pocket for a tissue. Instead, I found the lighter Teddy had given me, but I didn’t have a cigarette. I flipped the lighter around in my hand when I remembered a conversation we’d had—he mentioned he hid a pack of cigarettes at the beginning of each summer, just in case. I’d asked, “In case of what?”
He’d just smiled, taken a drag of his Winston, and told me where. At the time I thought the idea was completely nonsensical, but if he were standing in front of me right now, I’d kiss him.
It was under a boulder behind the boys’ swim shack. The rock was heavy and needed to be pushed with both hands. Ishuddered when I saw more squiggly worms, but they weren’t enough of a deterrent. Once I had it in my mind that I was going to smoke, my entire body craved nicotine. I needed something to clear away the worms.The radio. It had a long, thick antenna. I pulled up my slicker, unclipped it from the elastic waistband, and gingerly moved the worms away, but I didn’t see the red packaging. Using the antennae as a hoe, I moved the soil around a bit until I saw the tip of a plastic bag poking out of the ground.
Bingo!
There was a green director’s chair with the word LIFEGUARDin large white letters under the eaves of the swim shack. Sitting down, looking around, I didn’t see another breathing soul. I lit the cigarette, inhaled, and closed my eyes, savoring the taste, the peace, and the solitude. When I finished my smoke, I was ready for a cup of coffee. I sighed. The simple pleasures of life. I crushed the butt into the muddied sand, picked it up and tossed it into some bushes, then popped a piece of Trident in my mouth and looked up the hill. At the top of the path, a bear was staring at me.
It was massive, standing still on its hind legs. I was frozen in place, mouth dry, heart pounding, and I could feel the color drain from my face. The bear yawned and stretched, making it clear that I was no threat. I was dumbfounded by how wide and long its jaw was when it opened its mouth—my head could easily fit inside. I walked that hill every morning, and though it seemed as long as a football field when I hiked it, the distance between us now felt sickeningly short.
The bear went down on all fours and shook its body—splattering raindrops like a harmless puppy. We locked eyes as it started walking leisurely down the hill toward me. I couldn’t breathe.
Through the gloom and over the pounding of my heart, Jack’s booming voice echoed from the radio. “Attention, attention all division leaders. There has been a bear sighting.”
No shit.
“Keep all campers inside until further notice. Repeat. Keep all campers in their bunks until you get an all clear from me.”
The bear’s back seemed as wide and as long as a picnic table, and the distance separating us was quickly disappearing. Think. What did I know about bears? Don’t run because they’d chase you. Well, that wasn’t going to happen because I was paralyzed with fear. I had to move—had to do something to protect myself.
My radio. I can call for help. Pulling up my poncho I went to unhook it—gone. Crap. I’d brought it with me. Where was it? I must have left it by the boulder. Smoking was indeed going to kill me. If I moved quickly, I could run around the shack, grab the radio, and barricade myself inside the wooden building. Could a bear blow down the shack? No, that was a wolf, but I was pretty sure he could ram it to the ground.
I had no one to blame for my predicament. Ronnie was right, I’d no business taking a job that placed me in the middle of the wilderness when my natural habitat was Bloomingdale’s. I had to think of something, or the bear would make my kids motherless. Ronnie would remarry and my children would be raised by a wicked stepmother, just like the ones in the Disney movies that played on a never-ending loop in my apartment.
Idiot, why didn’t I stay in bed? Idiot, why didn’t I stay in New York City?
The bear padded downhill, the gap between us becoming smaller by the second. Everything seemed to be happening in slow motion, but my senses were in overdrive. I smelled its pungent scent mixed with dampness and my own sweat. The bear’s pace picked up. I willed myself to move, cautiously stepping backward toward the shack. It didn’t have a door, but hopefully I could defend myself with a paddle. If I were attacked, I’d bedamned if I’d go down without a fight. The tough Brooklyn girl in me always came out when cornered.
I took off toward the rock and grabbed for the radio but fumbled it, startled by a loud noise coming from behind me. There was a Jeep zigzagging toward the bear while blaring the horn. The bear reared on his hind legs, again showing its full height. The Jeep sped forward, lights flashing and horn honking, aiming straight for the bear. The bear dropped to all fours, scowled, and then turned around and bounded back up the hill, disappearing into the dense bushes.
The car stopped. Mike was at the wheel and a woman holding onto the crossbar pulled herself up from the passenger seat. She had long platinum blonde hair, dimples, and a panicked look on her pretty face. I knew her: Anya, who ran the camp’s website.
“Lori, quick, jump in.”
I climbed into the back seat and proceeded to shake.
“What the hell are you doing down here when there was a bear sighting, and why didn’t you come to the Airstream? How many times have I invited you over?” Mike said.
Anya noticeably tensed.
