Chapter 2

Rocky Bay Bible Camp came after many bends in the dirt road, offering many chances for second-guesses. Jesse McDougall stepped out of the car slowly, and hesitated to close the door behind her, till she looked down at her feet and noticed that her white running shoes had already turned a light reddish brown. It brought a smile to her face, and the courage to step forward and take a good look around her. To her right was the bay, its shallowness betrayed by its muddy hue. She knew what the beach looked like although it was too low for her to see, and blocked by small staff cabins: the sand was red and there were bulrushes and reeds on either side, along with rocks and bits of driftwood.
In front of her was a large green field and the pavilion, and beyond that a baseball diamond and volleyball court. Further back was a semi-circle of boys’ cabins, but they were concealed by trees, and to the left was a similar arrangement of girls’ cabins. In front of the girls’ cabin area, closer to Jesse and a little to her left, was the dining hall, with a well-worn path leading from the attached office up to where she stood.
While she contemplated the path, Philippa Gordon and her father, Jesse’s driver, were unloading their trunk, presumably of Phil’s luggage. Returning to the present, Jesse took one of the bags and together they brought Phil’s things down to the pavilion until she could find out what cabin she was in. They chatted amiably as they walked, without getting into anything really important, and Jesse enjoyed Phil’s excitement and bubbly laughter. She was the same age as herself, a little shorter and a little rounder, with soft grey eyes that suggested friendliness. She had the lightest of light blond hair, presently pulled back in a little ponytail, and pale skin to match. She was a talker, and more importantly she was a hugger.
They started back toward the office together when Phil’s father returned with Jesse’s bags. Then another car pulled up, and Phil ran over excitedly to welcome its occupants. Mr. Gordon unloaded Jesse’s things, which she left piled under a willow tree at the edge of the parking lot, and she ventured down toward the office alone.
The office was an extension of the long yellow dining hall. The entire structure was raised up about six feet off the ground but was still lower than the parking area, and a pleasantly wooded path led down to it. After reaching the door, she stood looking at it for a while, trying to muster up the courage to open it. Before she was entirely resolved, it was opened from the inside, almost knocking her over.
A tall blue-eyed blond with a funny face saw her just in time to avoid a collision. His eyes lit up in recognition as he exclaimed, “Hey Jesse! How’s it going?” and gave her a big bear-hug.
The strength of his arms concerned her a little bit as they enveloped her, almost hurting her back the way her father used to. But she laughed it off for the moment, just glad to be welcomed. The funny-faced boy, Michael Brown, ushered her into the office, and she was happy she didn’t have to go in alone.
“Can this thing copy any faster?”
“Elaine’s number was here a minute ago, I’m sure it was...”
“...I know that, but game time has to come before campfire or it won’t be dark enough...”
“I think we’re out of toner.”
“Who took the phone book off my desk?”
“Does anybody know what toner is?”
There were five or six people in the room already, and they all seemed to be talking at once. It was a small office, and with the business of last minute preparations for Staff Orientation, or Staff-O as it was more commonly called, it hovered on the edge of chaos. At once Jesse felt in the way, and would have backed out immediately, had Michael not been standing behind her. Then another familiar face turned to welcome her.
“Jesse McDougall! You made it!” Bob Owen took a few steps and gave Jesse her second hug, a little more reserved than her first. Bob had been the camp director for three years, and they had taught the rapelling class together for as long. He was now about 35, but Jesse could easily picture him as the freckled, red-haired, mischievous camper he must have once been.
With a hand on her shoulder, Bob guided her further into the crowded office as he continued. “I need to talk to you. Good thing you got here early.” Amidst numerous hello’s aimed at Jesse, he led her to his small office, which was a blocked off corner of the larger, common one. Keeping the door halfway open, Bob went behind his desk and asked Jesse to sit. It was a little quieter in here, with the thin walls muffling the outside voices to a monotone buzz. Bob took a sheet of paper from one of many file folders on his horrendously cluttered desk and handed it to her. He was smiling calmly, but a little conspiratorially, Jesse thought.
“We need to make photocopies of this to hand out at the staff meeting,” he said. “I thought you might like to look it over first.”
She frowned quizzically, but instead of asking him what it was about she quietly skimmed the page. It was a flow chart, showing the hierarchy of responsibility among the summer staff. It was familiar to her, but interesting too because there were small changes every summer, and she was curious to know who was doing what this year. The kitchen girls, or hospitality hostesses as they were now called, were under Linda Frey, the head cook - Millie must have finally retired from the post after about 50 years. Linda answered to Kim Owen, the food services manager. The maintenance crew were under Jacob Stevens, the maintenance foreman, who was under Bob Owen. No surprise there. The junior cabin leaders were under the senior cabin leaders, who were responsible to the head cabin leaders, Michael Brown and Jesse McDougall...
She stopped there, suddenly realizing what Bob was up to. “No,” she said, looking up at Bob and shaking her head. “Absolutely not. I’m a cabin leader, not a head cabin leader.”
Bob shrugged. “I know you love being in a cabin, but you’re the best qualified...”
“Where’s Ros?” Jesse broke in. “I thought she was supposed to be head cabin leader again this year. If she told you I wanted it, she’s lying,” Jesse declared, gaining volume. “She just wants to get out of it herself! I’m not getting tricked into doing her job...”
“Ros isn’t here,” Bob interrupted calmly. “She knew you could do the job, and so do I. I have complete confidence in that.”
She sat up straighter, took a breath and looked him in the eye. “No, I can’t. And I won’t.” She was trying to sound firm but her eyes were almost pleading. Her face felt hot, her hands felt cold, her heart was pounding. “Where is Ros?”
“She’s teaching English in Singapore.”
“And just left us here?”
“You won’t be alone - Michael will be working with you.”
At that moment Michael’s curly-topped head popped around the door. “I always knew I was cut out for administration,” he said with an amused grin, and disappeared again as abruptly as he had appeared.
For a moment the absurdity of that head, coming out of nowhere and with no body attached to it, struck Jesse, and she just stared blankly at the space where it had been. Quickly enough she regained most of her composure, or appearance thereof, and again looked at Bob and shook her head.
“You’ll get a walkie-talkie,” he coaxed.
She set her lips grimly. “As tempting as that is, I’m going to have to pass.”
Bob just looked at her for what seemed to be a long time; saying nothing, but persuading her with his eyes as though he were winning a convert.
She glared back at him. She rolled her eyes. She sighed disdainfully. She slouched against the back of the chair and crossed her arms. It was no use. He was going to win this one. “Alright, already,” she roared crossly.
Once again Michael’s head appeared in the office. “Don’t worry,” he said brightly, “You’ll be working with me!”
Jesse scowled. “And that’s supposed to be an encouraging thought?”

Michael stood in the middle of the orange shag carpet that covered the interior of Homestead, the cabin he shared with Keith Wilson and Zeb Lewis, who hadn’t arrived yet. He had to bend over to look at the lake through their one tiny window, framed by black and orange-flowered curtains from the 70's. Even with the curtains, it was an amazing view. When he’d appreciated it long enough, he sat down on his bed and picked up a book he’d been reading. He had 20 minutes to kill, and needed something to occupy his mind. Normally he would be socializing, especially as new staff members were arriving by the truckload, but he felt uncharacteristically like being alone. He stared at the page in front of him, trying in vain to concentrate on the words. All his efforts failed. His thoughts kept straying back to his reluctant new partner, trying to figure out the puzzle she presented. Barely more than a girl, really too young for the job she’d been given, she seemed to have matured far too quickly over the past year. Or was it something else? Something other than maturity… reservation, perhaps? No. She’d been as friendly and open as ever. He’d thought that maybe she’d shied away from him when he hugged her, but he must have imagined it. She appeared happy enough, joking about her newly-appointed job and teasing Marilyn and Bob. Yet she stared sadly out the window when she thought no one was looking.
What was it about her that concerned him so much? She was probably homesick, or nervous, or wishing she were outside in the sun instead of cooped up inside with paperwork. So why did he have the feeling that there was some deeper, fuller sadness in her somewhere? Why did she shrink from him when he gave her a friendly hug? He’d hugged her last summer when she left, in fact she’d hugged just about everybody then, on the verge of tears at having to say goodbye. She hadn’t been shy then. Something was strange, and very wrong, and he really, really wanted to fix it.

Jesse unrolled her sleeping bag on the little cot that passed for her bed in the tiny room of a cabin that was her own. She loved it, every inch of it. The roof was low and slanted, the walls and the carpet were a light blue, and the window overlooking the water had little white lace curtains fluttering around them. The window was her favourite part of the room: the screen swung open so that she could peek her head through, and it even had white shutters she could open or close. It seemed to her like a play-house window, and lacked only a flower box on the sill to be truly perfect.
The bed and dresser took up most of the floor-space, reducing the living area to a small square, barely room enough to turn around in. It was in sore need of vacuuming, but as the only tool available was a rather mangled corn broom, she swept the rug with it as best she could. Since the first year she had worked here, just a thirteen-year-old kitchen girl, she had wanted this cabin more than anything else. She had vowed she would have it one day, but she hadn’t expected it so soon! She was only eighteen. It was the one good thing about being a head counsellor. She could have sung for joy, except that her window was open and someone might hear her. Even if it were shut, she thought to herself, the walls were pretty thin.
Once her bed was made, she decided to lie down for a minute before unpacking any more. She was so tired; there wasn’t any point in wearing herself out before her first day had even begun.
Jesse’s exhaustion was really more emotional than physical, but she didn’t know this. She thought she was well on her way towards being really happy, and so when curled up in a ball on her sleeping bag, the tears came, she didn’t understand why. No more than the boy who sat on the front step of his own cabin, less than ten feet away.

“Michael! I mean, hi.”
“Hey Jesse. Sorry if I startled you.” His face looked at her through the screen door.
“I - I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you.”
“It’s ok, my fault. Did you want to go up to the dining hall?”
“Uh, sure. We should go now, I guess.” Jesse was just a little flustered. After picking herself off her bed, ashamed of herself for blubbering, she had attempted to wipe her tears away and make herself presentable, but planned to step down to the lake to wash the redness from her eyes before going to the staff meeting. Then, as she opened her inside door, there was Michael, just about to knock. Now she had to face everyone looking like she’d just had a good cry. Oh well, she’d embarrassed herself so many times at camp already, what was once more?
She thought about the time she and her sister had both started praying at the same time one morning at the staff prayer meeting. They had both stopped almost immediately, waiting for the other to proceed. Then they’d done it again, thinking the other wasn’t going to. Finally May had said, “You go, Jesse,” but by then Jesse had forgotten what she was going to say. After a few awful moments, May finally continued, but Jesse was still reluctant to pray at the morning meetings.
They were half way to the dining hall when she realized Michael had asked her a question, and was waiting for an answer. “I’m sorry, what was that?”
“It doesn’t matter,” he replied, and didn’t say anything else for a few steps. Jesse seemed distracted, and he didn’t want to intrude. She had entered her own little world, where he knew she couldn’t hear him. He’d learned to recognize this habit of hers last summer, though he’d spoken to her rarely, and knew that the best way to deal with it was to wait till it passed. He still didn’t understand it, though.
Presently Jesse spoke up again. “Thank you, for carrying all my stuff to Ingleside.” Her words were quiet and she was looking at her feet more than anything while she said it, but she really was grateful. Everyone else had been so busy, caught up in work and hello’s. Normally she would have done it on her own, but she wasn’t sure anymore... anyway, Michael had walked over at just the right moment and picked up almost everything in one big load, solving her dilemma.
“No problem,” he said as he opened the door of the dining hall for her. He smiled to himself as she thanked him again. Such little things, but she always expressed gratitude, as if she were surprised every time someone did something nice for her.
Inside, a few had already gathered at the fireplace at one end of the hall, in a little meeting area near the office door. The walls here were lined with bookshelves, which contained years of photo albums as well as books, and dressers full of board games and colouring supplies. Young people sat in comfy chairs close to the front, while behind them yellow benches lay ready for those still to come. Jesse wondered if she would have the nerve to speak in front of even this many people.
A pretty girl with shoulder-length blond hair called her over to sit beside her. “Jesse! I’m so glad you’re here. These guys are driving me nuts! I need a sane person to talk to.”
It was true. Megan Riley was surrounded by boys and they all looked to be in high spirits. Jesse joined the conversation and found that they were discussing the possibility of ridding the camp of some cute but apparently unwelcome rodents; obviously trying to and succeeding in horrifying Megan with their gruesome detail. Then again, even Jesse realized it wasn’t very hard to rile Meg, who took delight in defending any defenceless creature.
While Jesse took Meg’s mind off of traps and the deaths of small animals, the benches began to fill. Jesse tried not to let the growing crowd make her nervous. She didn’t have much to say at this meeting, anyway, and she reminded herself that she knew just about everyone here. She wouldn’t be talking to a crowd of strangers
Finally Bob stood and brought the ‘meeting’ to some semblance of order. The benches and chairs were now filled with some 50 or more summer workers, most of them in their teens, and trying to catch up on an entire ten months’ worth of news. It took some persuasion, but eventually the excited group quieted down and Bob opened in prayer. He then introduced the senior staff, ending with Michael and Jesse: head male and female cabin leaders.
Michael took Bob’s place and Jesse handed out the schedules as he talked. As soon as she finished she wished she had taken longer. Now she had to stand beside Michael until he was done, in front of everyone, and he had an extraordinary ability when it came to words. She fiddled with her bracelet. She considered sitting down, then thought against it, as they were supposed to be displaying a united front and all. Maybe she would just lean a little on the woodbox. It was a large structure, almost as high as her waist, and directly behind her. She could look casual and and be more comfortable. She just needed to take a couple steps back... there, she just bumped into it. Sighing in anticipation of easing the load on her sore feet, she put her hands out behind her to rest on the lid. Her left palm met air.
With one “Whoop!” her balance was lost and she toppled to the floor. She landed precariously but she was quick, and by the time Michael had time to react she had jumped back to her feet. Even some members of the audience failed to catch just what had happened. Most of them broke out in laughter, though, and many clapped.
Michael immediately came to her and asked if she was alright, but she could only nod. She felt a place on her back where she had slid across the corner of the woodbox that might bruise, but nothing serious. She looked and felt a little sheepish, but the laughter was infinitely to be preferred above awkward silence. It was not meant to humiliate her, nor did it. Instead, it went a long way toward easing the tension that had been building up inside her. Being laughed at was part of belonging to the group - and that sense of belonging was exactly what she needed just then.
To make up for Michael’s wordiness, when her turn to speak came she didn’t say much, just something on the point of orientation week and the importance of punctuality, stuff she was told to mention. Only the ‘newbies’ really listened. The others had heard it all before, and knew they would hear exactly the same thing at least three more times before the week was over. So they conserved their energy for more important matters, such as late-night campfires, emergency drills, and practical jokes. It is a delicate art to sleep while sitting up with your eyes open: these young people had mastered it.
When her talk ended Jesse sat carefully on the woodbox, feeling far better than she had since the meeting had begun. She had remembered everything she’d had to say, she hadn’t stuttered too much, and no one seemed at all surprised that she was acting as a head cabin leader, despite the fact that there were at least five girls here older than her. In the midst of these thoughts she almost missed Bob’s final words.
“Maintenance and kitchen staff will meet in the pavilion. Male cabin leaders on the kitchen steps, and female cabin leaders...” he paused and looked at Jesse.
“We’ll stay here,” she decided hurriedly.
“Alright. Michael, will you close in prayer?”
With the final “Amen”, most of the crowd dispersed, leaving Jesse alone with about fifteen girls. As if by common agreement, they all moved towards the front, filling the comfy chairs and the first row of benches, and some sitting on the floor. Jess didn’t have time to worry about not having anything prepared; even as they switched seats the girls began the meeting themselves. With relief she realized she wouldn’t have to talk ‘to’ them, just with them.
“So Jesse, how’d you land this job? You didn’t say anything about it earlier.” Phil said as she stretched out in a recliner left vacant by a maintenance boy.
“Hey, yeah, how did you? We wrote letters all year and you never said anything about it.” This was from Christine Harris, a girl she had counselled with a few weeks last summer. She was at the edge of a bench near Jesse, braiding the hair of another girl who sat cross-legged at her feet. The chatter of others quieted a bit as they overheard the question.
Jesse explained that it had been rather suddenly thrust upon her.
“I thought Ros was coming again,” said the girl getting her hair braided.
“She went to Singapore,” said a girl curled up in a padded rocking chair. Her name was Iris Peterson, and she was quiet but well-liked. “She’s teaching English and making lots of money doing it.”
Gradually the conversation turned to other things, and at the end of half an hour Jesse was almost reluctant to draw the meeting to a close. However, she knew they all had things they’d want to do before supper. So they stopped talking for a minute while she prayed: “Dear God, thank you for this beautiful day. Thank you that we all got here safely and please help us to have a good week and to learn what you have to teach us. In Jesus’ name, amen.”
“Amen,” echoed a chorus of enthusiastic voices.