“I heard you hosed down Girls Camp without asking my permission,” Jack said.
Marilyn sat at her desk staring intently at her computer.
“Yeah, it was spontaneous. I was in the OD shack and saw the hose, and it was so hot, and there was no shade, and it didn’t occur to me to ask, but the girls loved it.”
“How many times do I have to tell you that you do not run this camp?” he barked. “It’s my camp and I make the rules.”
I was about to say something in my defense when Bob walked through the back door. His hair was plastered against his scalp, and he had water stains on his shirt.
“Hey, Bob, how’d you get so wet?” I asked before Jack could say anything,
“We had an impromptu water balloon fight on boys’ side. It’s so hot out there, and it cooled the boys down. They had a blast,” Bob said.
Jack’s face turned beet red.
“Did you ask Jack’s permission to do that?” I asked.
Bob shrugged. “Why would I need his permission to keep the boys cool?”
“That’s my thought exactly.” I turned to face Jack. “If we’re done here, I would like to get out of my wet clothes before lunch.”
Bob would get two lime slices in an extra strong gin & tonic later.
Marilyn looked away from Jack to hide the smirk on her face.
Jack turned his rage toward Bob. “Why are you here anyway?”
“To tell you that the carnival people are setting up.”
Jack got up in a huff. “Finally!” He stormed out the back, slamming the door behind him.
I had won a small victory. Despite Jack’s efforts to undermine me, he was having the opposite effect. I felt empowered after each confrontation.
After lunch we let the campers loose at the carnival. The superhero theme was apparent on the older girls who wore bikinis with hand drawn six-packs on their stomachs—a use for the brown Sharpies. They had ripped their T-shirts and fashioned them into capes which fluttered behind them as the girls ran as fast as they could toward the games, rides, and candy. With the entire camp together, there were well over five hundred campers and counselors dressed in bathing suits, costumes, and flip-flops.
Arcade games were set up under a tent—shooting water into a clown’s mouth until a balloon popped, ring toss onto pegs—all to win cheap keychains that were inferior to the lanyards the campers made themselves, but a trophy was a trophy. There were two of those machines where you tried to pick up stuffed toys with a mechanical claw, and right outside the tent sat a dunking booth.
Cotton candy, popcorn, and slushie stands had long lines, but the campers didn’t seem to mind, particularly those who used the time to flirt—the carnival was one of the few events where the boys and girls mingled.
A Slip-N-Slide sat in the middle of the field, but the longest line was for the Tilt-A-Whirl.
Maggie had wrestled with staying at camp on her day off to attend the carnival, but Roger was adamant about getting the hell out. She asked if I wouldn’t mind supervising the craft table during the event. She had purchased paper masks to complement the superhero theme.
The table was set up in the middle of the football field where I could keep an eye on Zelda and Hazel and watch thecomings and goings of the Cubs. It was interesting observing the creative process—the girls took their time picking out colors, gems, and feathers, gluing them perfectly in place, whereas the boys grabbed whatever Sharpie was nearby, drew a lightning bolt or wrote the name of their superhero, and were done.
After my shift was over, I walked toward the center of the activities and saw Teddy. My body flushed, thinking about our two nights together. I took a deep breath, remembering not to act too familiar. He was talking to a counselor right next to the marriage booth. When he saw me, he pointed to the booth and said, “Hey, Kramer, let’s get hitched.”
“Why not? I already consider you my summer husband.”
Gilda’s daughter Zoe performed the ceremony. She wore a tuxedo T-shirt and held a hardcover copy ofAtlas Shruggedin place of a Bible.
“That’s a hefty summer read,” I said.
Zoe shrugged. “Tell me about it.”
We both laughed.
She held out the book for us to place our hands on. “Do you solemnly swear to be married at Camp Woodlands for the rest of this summer?”
