Eager Beaver

Chapter One - New Kit

Canada's weird. Not in a bad way. It just takes some getting used to. Some things aren't different at all; school still sucks, the sky's still blue, and the milk doesn't come in bags - despite what mom had said. Some things are totally topsy turvy; like how the Mars bars taste more like Milky Way, and how the dollars are all rainbow color, and how my pocket money doesn't go nearly as far. And some things are just a little bit off. Like how I'm going into 'Grade Six' in September, not 'Sixth Grade'; or how the numbers on the speed limit signs go way bigger; or how I used to be a Webelo Scout, but now I'm a Beaver.

It all began the first day we arrived in Welton. It's only a little town, but I think it's pretty cool. Looking out the window as we drove up the mountain approach I saw a waterfall and a white tail deer! We unloaded some boxes at the new house before heading straight down to the community center so I could sign up for Scouts. I remember because I was wearing this dorky t-shirt that mom had picked out on the drive up. It was white, with dark blue arms and a red piped collar - two grinning cartoon beavers pictured with their fluffy brown arms cuddled around each other on the front and the slogan 'HUG IT OUT' printed above in big bubbly letters. It wasn't the kind of thing I'd usually wear, but I'd spilled some ice cream down my front when we stopped for lunch, and mom hadn't wanted to get all the boxes unpacked in the middle of the trip. She'd picked it off the rack at some gas station just across the border, practically swooning at the sight of it.

"Look, Cooper! It's got beavers!" She'd enthused - crazy for anything with even the slightest hint of a Canada theme.

I'd slipped it on in the backseat, pairing it with my cool navy blue Cub Scout shorts. It wasn't as if I liked the shirt - but it was a lot better than rocking up to my first Scout meeting in Canada with a big brown stain on my tummy.

Still, I felt like a doofus. There were so many kids on the playground, all of them in weird unfamiliar uniforms, and most of them bigger than me. I'd always been kinda short for my age, but with the babyish t-shirt I felt even littler. I ground to a halt mid-step, suddenly feeling very frightened. None of this looked anything like the Scouts I knew. What if I didn't fit in?

"Come on, short stuff!" Dad called back, coaxing me to his side with a pat on his thigh. I tottered reluctantly forward, letting him ruffle my messy nest of browny-blond hair with his rough calloused hand. "You alright, bud?"

"Yeah..." I managed in a high breathy voice. "Just kinda nervous."

Dad laughed. "Don't be! You're a big brave Webelo, remember?"

I nodded, though I hardly felt assured. Did Canada even have Webelos? I was pretty sure they didn't. I wasn't even sure I was meant to be a Cub anymore. I only had a couple more months before I was moving up to proper Scouts back home, afterall. How did that work in Canada? And what about all my badges? Would I need to start from scratch?

Just at that moment, a sandy haired man in a red button up shirt and a pale brown neckerchief sauntered up towards us. "Hey guys!" he greeted cheerily "How can I help?"

"My son here is looking to join the scouts." Dad told him. "We just moved up from California."

"Wow! California!" The red shirted scout master nodded, seemingly impressed "It's mid season but that should be fine."

I shifted a little and put my hand in my pocket, a little bit of change jingling, it was a mix of American and Canadian coins. Pulling my hands out, my coins spilled all over the place! Really? This had to happen now? I quickly bent down to pick them up while my Dad and the scoutmaster helped. "Sorry! I got it!" I squeaked.

"So, which program are you looking to join ?" The scoutmaster asked.

Dad raised a confused eyebrow "Program?"