The Girl at Camp Green Lake

Untitled Part 11

"This ain't no girl scout camp!" Mr. Sir shouts as the boys and one girl of tent D drag their droopy heads off their pillows. We yawn and stretch and lace up our dusty boots. Then begin the dreadful march to the library. I've been here a month now. A month of this, it's hard to believe. A month of the same thing, over and over. I feel different than I felt when I got here. I've changed, I suppose that much is true. It would be a rarity to find me daydreaming about Ben now. My feelings toward him have faded, and now I can't see what I found attractive about him in the first place.  The childish, innocent way he has to him that I had once adored now makes me cringe to think about. Or maybe I've just gotten used to the matured perspectives and weather beaten faces of my fellow inmates. Sorry, campers. 

 I take a deep breath of the fresh dry air as I begin to walk to receive my shovel. The smell of toasted hamburger buns sweeps over me. I know the drill. One per person. I grab one the honey cover rolls from the tray Mr. Pendanski is holding and fall into step with Squid. Since we had been caught by the warden a few nights ago, we've been spending more of our time by each other's sides. Sometimes we talk. About our lives before Camp Green Lake, about our favorite movies or songs or books. Yes, books. Squid can read. Other times we don't bother socializing, we just sit in the comfortable silence together.  Squid still hangs out with the other boys of course. But our bond seems to be growing. And I don't really mind it. 

It is a normal morning for us. One more day of digging holes in the middle of a dried-up lake. Another number on the calendar, I thought. I couldn't have been any farther from the truth.

                                         ............................................................................

Later that day, at lunch, I sit in the shade of my hole and draw little patterns in the dirt with a stick. In my other hand I hold a half- eaten turkey sandwich. I'm not really paying attention to what I draw. My mind is elsewhere. In a brightly lit grey room. 

Bryce. 

I almost smile at the thought of her and her kind words. Then I remember that the promised she would see me again. I haven't ever had dreams like this. They're like a series of episodes that are vaguely unrelated, yet somehow deeply connected in all the ways. Like the red teardrop. That stupid red teardrop. I'm beginning to think it's not a teardrop. Blood? 

I feel a warm presence leaning over me. Not the sun. Squid drops into the small oasis of shade I've created. He crouches down, resting his elbows on his knees. I look at him, the ghost of a smirk already creeping onto my face. 

"You've got dirt on your face." I tell him. He narrows his eyes and searches my face to see if I'm lying or not. He's got this way of telling if I'm speaking truth to him that I find fascinating. I've tried to get him to tell me how he knows, but he never spills his secrets. I'll find out, one of these days. When he sees I'm being honest, he brings both his hands to his face and rubs the dirt off. I watch with joy in my lungs. I don't know what it is about this boy, but he sure does make my heart twirl. 

When he's certain the dirt's gone, he peers down at my doodles. "Who's that?" He asks skeptically. I look at the drawings and my breath catches. I'm looking at the evil, beautiful face of the guy from my strange dreams. What was his name? Oh, Luke. I clench my teeth just at the mere thought of him. And that arrogent, silky laugh of his. I recall the way he had looked at me; his half-lidded eyes, the way he'd been leaning back in a relaxed way, as if he was reclining. Anger washes over me. I don't think I have ever felt such hatred for someone. Least of all a stranger. Not even a stranger. He was just someone I'd dreamt up. 

"It's nothing," I say dismissively. I reach over up and brush my arm through the picture. It felt good. I had to resist the urge to spit on the spot as well. I realize my fists are balled at my sides. I unfurl my fingers and run them through my short hair. Did I forget to mention? I cut it. It had been too much of a bother, always falling in my eyes when I tried to dig. And now that it's gone, it's like a huge weight has been lifted off my shoulders. I feel free. Anyway, I like the way it curls around my face, the way it sways when I walk. "Just a dream I had." 

Squid's face remains the same, but I can see a flicker of doubt behind the mask.

"See-" I begin, but Squid doesn't let me. 

"Is he your boyfriend?" He blurts out suddenly. Then, as if shocked by his words, he takes his hat off and looks up into the near empty sky. 

I scowl at his words. Just the thought of being anywhere near that monster makes me nauseous. Squid glances back at me, confusion written all over his face. 

"My boyfriend?" I cry out in disgust. "No! Eww, no."

"Then who is he?" Squid demands. 

"I already old you, I've seen him in my dreams."

Squid furrows his brow questioningly. He looks like he wants to ask about the drawing further, but he seems to give up on that for now. He drops onto the dirt ground leans his back against the wall of earth.  "What kind of dreams?" He asks as he slouches down into a comfortable position. I breathe a sigh of relief at the change of subject. Then I realize how close he is to me; I can count all the freckles on his dusty face. I feel a foolish blush start to creep onto my face, and I look down to hide it. 

Just as I'm about to tell him about my other-worldly dreams, shouts of protest shoot over the top of my hole. 

"What are you doing?" 

"Don't do it, Barfbag!"

And, "Shit, he's gonna do it."

I quickly scramble to my feet and scurry out of the ground with Squid on my heels. We rush over to where everyone has gathered. Magnet, Zigzag, Zero, X-ray, and Armpit stand together and stare in surprise at the boy standing on the horizon line. He's taking his shoes off. I am confused and bewildered.  I see the rattle snake just a few feet away from him. An angry rattle snake, its tail shaking back and forth in a frenzy, a warning. What is he doing? I squint my eyes, trying to get a good look at the boy's face. But when I see begin to inch slowly towards the venomous creature, I don't need to see him to know who he is.

Barfbag.