The Stars in the Sky

Chapter 21: Campfire

"It smells funny."

"I have to pee."

I stifled a laugh as I watched the noisy kids from Oakland spill out of their old, yellow school bus, their voices an indistinct chorus, becoming distinct as they stepped outside into the fresh, mid-morning air. Standing with the wranglers, we welcomed fifteen boys, fifteen girls, all twelve or thirteen years old, plus six adults. It looked like the adults were two adult leaders, giving orders and carrying clipboards, and four chaperones.

This was a seriously racially diverse group, probably reflecting the melting pot demographics of the East Bay. The kids looked shiny and new, wearing fresh jeans and clean tennis shoes, compared to the five of us program staff, who all had a little trail dust on us from riding horses early that morning.

A few of the kids were carrying cell phones and either taking a selfie or texting away. The rest were chatting with their friends.

Once outside, and assembled, the kids put away their phones per their leader's loudly-spoken instruction, quieted down and moved warily, out of their element, but curious. I could see their young faces taking in the ranch buildings, the animals in their corrals and pens, and the landscape of rolling hills, orchards, vineyards, and fields. If I had to guess, I was pretty sure, without asking them, that none of them had ever been on a farm before.

As they had been stepping off the bus, I had been waving enthusiastically at each of them exiting the bus, and now that they were all together, I took over for the group of wranglers, yelling cheerfully, "Hello! Welcome to the Headlands Ranch! I'm Marie!"

"What the fuck is this shit?" I heard from one of the boys, a tall African-American with a very precise haircut, beautiful, dark smooth skin, and a grouchy look on his face.

"I have to use the bathroom," whined an ponytailed Asian girl, the only one of the group wearing cowboy boots over her pale jeans.

"Ohmigod it smells," said a redhead with freckles in a bored drawl, wearing clothes that were a little too big. She held her nose. "It smells bad."

Guess they could smell the horses. I didn't think that horses smelled all that bad, but I suppose you had to get used to it first.

"What, there's no WiFi here?" complained a Hispanic boy, very sharply dressed, in a button down shirt and skinny jeans. A few others looked panicked about this.

I ignored them all and kept talking.

"I am so glad all of you are here. Let's first show you to the bunkhouse so you can set up for your week here, and then our wranglers, Janine, Stephanie, Jimmy, and Hector, will take you to meet your horses."

"Cool," said a small African-American girl with a shy smile, her hair in three thick braids.

A few other kids smiled at me and I was instantly charmed by the combination of their enthusiasm for the farm with their inexperience due to their urban background. I also wanted to learn all of their names immediately so I wouldn't be calling them "you, with the face, over there." After they got settled in, we were playing a name game.

A tall, handsome, bald man with caramel-colored skin and dark eyes, wearing well-fitting jeans and a plaid button down shirt, came up to me and said, "Nice to meet you, Marie. I'm Maurice Jenkins, and I run the Bay Area program for these guys."

"Nice to meet you," I said, shaking his warm hand.

"I'm the boys' group leader," he continued, "and Tricia Pham," pointing to a petite woman with amazingly cool, dark jeans and a fluttery top, "is the girls' group leader."