Underneath the Sun

Something Strange Happening

The only sound was the fire crackling.

Nature seemed to have stopped while the look of eighteen sets of eyes glared down upon me. Each one said nothing as my heart raced at what I would be facing next. Pat was nowhere in sight, leaving me afraid. I've been abandoned and fed to the lions.

I don't even know where he could have disappeared.

Do I try to say hi?

The moment dragged on, nobody saying a word, but each staring on.

Then the sound of a set of hands clapping broke the silence. It came from my right and as I turned to face it, the sound increased in frequency. It was then joined the clapping of those around the campfire as their laughter accompanied their actions.

The source of the original clap?

Pat.

"Welcome to camp, Tate!"

The other campers hooted and hollered while I stood there with my jaw open. Was I supposed to find this amusing?

"It's just our little prank we like to do to the last person who arrives," Pat explained. "Think of it as a tradition here."

A tradition that makes the person on the receiving end feel like a jackass. I could feel my skin getting warmer and had there been light, I'm sure people would've seen my face turn a shade of red. It's not like I wanted to show up last, but my condition put me in this position. Way to call attention to it in a camp where 'we only see people.'

Pat put his hand on my shoulder.

"I promise you'll be on the delivering end at some point this summer," he said.

I managed a weak smile, realizing he probably couldn't see it with my hood still pulled up.

"Sure," I mustered.

"We have a chair and s'more ready for you."

The other campers gave me a smile and nod as I passed by them. It was a mixture of welcome and thanks for taking our stupid prank in stride. Many of them went back to their sticks with marshmallows, poking them in the fire that was probably at the same temperature as my skin.

I found my seat on the opposite end between two campers - one guy and one girl. The guy looked younger and wore the most bored expression I've seen. His athletic frame was slouching in his chair while his neck rested on the back of the seat. The girl looked about my age and sported bright pink high tops. Her eyes narrowed the closer I came, carefully watching every movement I was making until I sat down.

"What's your story?"

"Huh?" I asked, taken aback.

"Your story," she said. There was a harsh tone to her voice and I couldn't tell if this was the way she always spoke or if she was just trying to make an impression. "Everyone who ends up here has a story."

"I thought we didn't talk about that," I shot back. The immediacy of my response shocked me. She smiled.

"I'm going to like you," she said, then turned her attention away from me.

I took a moment to take in her black, short cropped hair accentuated against her copper skin tone. In just those few moments, she made me curious about her story. Out of fear of staring too long, I turned my attention to the other camper beside me. He still wore the same expression with his gaze going off into the sky.

"This certainly is a camp all right," he said. His tone matched his look — completely bored and monotone.

"This is normal for camp?" I asked, partly because I didn't know.

"For this camp," he said.

"You don't sound impressed."

"I don't plan on staying long," he replied. "You're welcome to join me on getting out of here."

"Cut it, Rudy!" the girl beside me snapped. "You try escaping every year and it doesn't work. Just suck it up like the rest of us."

"Krissy, what would I do without your absolute concern for my well-being?"

"Get real."

I sunk back into my seat, not sure what fight was about to take place. Pat seemed to have heard it and stood up from the other end of the circle. His standing seemed to be enough to get them to stop. Everyone in the circle stopped what they were doing to pay attention to him.

"Finish up your s'mores and then get ready for bed. Tomorrow we'll begin with a pancake breakfast in the main hall, followed by our goal setting exercise for this summer."

A chorus of groans went up from the circle.

"No groaning. It's the most important part of our time here. Now get going."

A few went to get up from their seats, but Pat put his hand out to stop them.

"One more thing. Would somebody be willing to show Tate to his cabin? He's in cabin 29."

All eyes turned to me again. This time, I don't think it was planned.

"You're the special snowflake?" Krissy said.

I turned to her, shrugging my shoulders. I had no idea what that meant.

"Only VIP to get to stay in 29," she commented.

"Thank you, Krissy," Pat interrupted. "Did you want to show him the way there?"

"Nah," she replied. "I think he needs to figure this out for himself."

What was going on here?

The look on my face betrayed my thoughts. Rudy caught it right away.

"You don't know why you're here, do you?" he asked.

Because people moved mountains to have me stay here? This camp promised to accommodate my needs? Please help me out.

"I'm just here for camp," I mustered.

Roars of laughter went up. Campers got out of their chair and walked away while comments of 'he'll do okay' could be heard among their ranks. Rudy laughed as well.

"That's a good one. Your cabin is down the path and in the left field when you get to the fork. You can't miss it. It's the only one with electricity and plumbing."

"Plumbing?"

"You get your own bathroom," Rudy replied.

I didn't know how to respond. Rudy filled the silence for me.

"Like Krissy said — VIP."

Suddenly, I didn't want to be here anymore.