Cabin Nine [[Revised Edition] Under FURTHER Revision]

One

Seven Years Old

Mom and Dad tell me to wait in the car with Susie while they talk to the tall man with the blindingly bright yellow shirt. I can't read it from here because they're too far away, but I think it says the name of the church camp.

I look over at Susie and sigh. I wish she would do something cool like sharks do when they're two months old. All she ever does is cry and sleep and stink. I think all kids should be seven years old all the time. Not sixteen and a jerk like David. Not two months and boring like Susie. Not six and annoying like Louisa. Seven and interesting and awesome like me. Plus, if everyone was seven, the store would never ever run out of dinosaur chicken nuggets. That would be a real plus. Mom says she can never find them.

The sound of the van door opening takes me by surprise. I flinch and almost wake Susie up, which I definitely don't want to do. She would cry and Mom would be mad at me. Susie sucks.

Mom helps me out of the car so Susie isn't bothered. Dad has all my bags in his hands. I only have a suitcase and a duffel bag plus another for bedding, but I don't know how he got them out of the back without me noticing. The trunk latch is broken and we usually have to slam it.

The tall man they were talking to crouches down to look me in the eye and sticks his hand out. I hate it when people crouch. I already know I'm short. What do you expect? I'm seven. I awkwardly shake it. Nobody shakes hands anymore and I hate it when people touch me. But I can't be rude when we first meet because Mom says first impressions are important.

"I'm Hunter," he says evenly, apparently not as nervous as I am. "I'm gonna be your cabin counselor this week. What's your name?"

I'm physically incapable of talking to strangers, so my dad tells him.

"Tyler," Dad says. "Sorry, he's shy." I get a hard thump on the back. Hunter doesn't react when I flinch.

Hunter stands back up. "It's cool. Three other campers have done the same thing. He'll get more comfortable here." He looks down at me. His nose looks really weird from this angle. I think he has a booger. "So, Tyler, how old are you?"

He starts walking toward a building and we follow him. Dad nudges me with his knee when I take too long to answer.

"I'm seven," I tell him. I've already forgotten his name. I can't ask and be rude, so I think I'll have to wait for someone else to say it.

It's then that I realize Dad is the only one who followed Hunter with me. I stop walking and turn to look for Mom. She's standing by the van, holding a crying Susie. She's watching us and she follows us into the building when I pointedly don't look away. The yellow shirt man tells us that it's called the boy's lodge. The girls are across the lake. Our building is painted a faded green and there's a swing on the porch that two guys sit in, casually not talking to each other. The man leads us into cabin nine.

I don't know what I was expecting, but it wasn't this many bunk beds. There are six crammed into this tiny room. The bottom bunk of the one in the far corner is the only bed that's still empty. For some reason, the fact that I'm the last one here makes me want to turn around and go home out of shame.

But there's a wild-looking redheaded boy on the top of that bed who's fussing with his blankets and he sees me before we can leave. He tries to perk up when he sees us but he hits his head on the ceiling with a dull thunk and a hiss of pain. He hops down with whatever the opposite of grace is and bows clumsily in front of me.

"I'm Jack!" he says too loudly. It's so startling that I actually flinch.

I don't know what to do with that. Who bows as a greeting? Why can't I make myself talk to him? It was easier with the yellow shirt guy.