The Lamb and the Lion

Chapter 3

- Bye, mommy!

- Bye, honey. Take care of yourself and remember to use sunscreen, okay? And...

- Don't walk alone and be careful in the woods. I know, I know. - Abigail completed her grandmother's sentence. Judith had been repeating it constantly over the last few days.

- Yes, Abi. You know, that's good. Have a good trip! Take care.

Judith had to let go of her granddaughter's hand through the bus window. As the bus continued on its way, Abigail kept waving to her grandmother until she could no longer see her on the sidewalk. The day she had spent the week waiting for finally arrived. The team bus responsible for the weekend headed towards the town's main avenue to begin its journey along the dirt road to its destination: The Lion's Mane Camp.

As she drove further away from home, into the countryside, Abigail couldn't tell what crazy thing she was doing. Sitting on the bench next to the window, she observed what a beautiful evening it was. The sunset colored the sky with a shade of orange worthy of a canvas and the green landscape of the countryside changed according to how far they walked along the road. Soon it would be night. But even though it was a beautiful way to end the day, what was Abigail doing there?

In the backpack she was carrying were clothes, sunscreen, insect repellent, a raincoat and other important items for a few days in the wilderness. But what really bothered her was the book that was the heaviest item in her backpack. The book she had received by mistake. The book that didn't belong to her.

To tell the truth, nothing about the situation belonged to her. Not the seat she was in, the warm greetings from the staff, the enthusiastic nods from the other children, nor the name tag she was wearing around her neck with a name that wasn't hers. When she read the name on the badge again and saw her neighbor's picture on it, Abigail's heart skipped a beat, accompanied by her breathing, as flashes of what might happen to her filled her imagination. What if her mother found out what she had done? What if she realized what a lie Abigail had told to everyone she had talked to since she had received the box?! What if someone in charge of the camp realized that a girl was missing from the team, replaced by an intruder? What if he stepped on the wrong foot at some point, revealing his true identity? What if?

She would be saying goodbye to her plan to help her mother. She'd be wasting the best opportunity she'd ever had in her life, which she hadn't had to look for. It had been delivered straight into her arms. But was it worth lying like that to get what she wanted? Abigail couldn't answer that question.

Gasping, her heart beating at a frantic pace, Abigail recalled her climb onto the bus. How the man in charge of the list of names had called her neighbor's name, and Abigail had answered as if it were her own, while her grandmother was still locking the door. He then made way for her to get on, with a big smile and words of welcome. No, he shouldn't have done that. Abigail didn't deserve to be there.

She needed to leave. It was already late, there was nothing else to see in the darkness of the night. As he moved towards the window, Abigail could only see her reflection. Frightened, distressed. The face of someone afraid of being discovered. Abigail reached a point in her thoughts where she couldn't even breathe. She couldn't be there, she had to get off the bus. Now, immediately. Her racing heart and anguished mind were screaming NOW, GET OFF THIS BUS NOW.

As she tried to get up, dazed, the bus actually stopped moving and its door opened. Abigail didn't stop to think why this had happened, if she had said something out loud in the middle of her crisis; she just knew that she needed to get off the bus. But once she was on her feet, trying to control her breathing, she noticed a boy climbing onto the vehicle in an incredibly clumsy manner. On his back was a huge camping backpack, bigger than he was. Standing in place, Abigail paid attention to how the boy had been greeted with joy by the man with the list of names, with a touch of hands and inside jokes.