It was early morning at Miss Qiunzella Thiskwin Penniquiqul* Thistle Crumpet’s camp for Hardcore Lady-Types, and Jo was lying on her bunk, arms tucked under her head, her brown eyes fixed on the ceiling . . . thinking.
Outside of camp, Jo could spend a whole day lost in thought. Which was a saying Jo didn’t like, because it suggested that she was “lost” in thought. And she wasn’t lost. She was just . . . thinking.
About what?
Many things, actually.
Including:
The mechanics of pulleys.
Whether she turned her alarm clock off before she left for camp.
Whether she did or did not see a creature disembark from a moon-like structure a few days ago.
Also, Newton’s Law of Motion.
To paraphrase, Newton’s Law says that something will keep doing what it’s doing, the way it’s doing it, until another force shows up and says something like,
Today, this force was April, whose fierce green eyes, framed by her bright, cherry-red hair, peeked over Jo’s bunk.
Her booming voice filled the cabin. “Are you ready to begin this, the next chapter in our most adventurous summer?!”
April, one of Jo’s best friends since forever and a fellow member of Roanoke cabin, was often described as a force—a force to be reckoned with, a force of nature, and so on.
Today April was in a bit of a hurry because there was a lot to do and . . . Actually, there was always a lot to do. Actually, maybe April was always in a bit of a hurry.
Fortunately, being in a hurry and being a Lumberjane go very well together.
Jo sat up, her head skimming the roof of the cabin as she swung her legs over the side of her bunk. “Yes, I am.”
“Indubitably!” April tightened the white bow tied around her hair. “Then let’s make like a Lumberjane and get GOING!”
It was another amazingly gorgeous day, and outside the cabin the sky looked like a kid’s drawing: deep blue, with three puffy clouds and a bright yellow sun shining down on the summer home away from home of the Lumberjanes.
Was this yet another great day to be a Lumberjane? Yes it was, because, and it’s been said before but it is worth repeating, pretty much every day is a great day to be a Lumberjane.
April and Jo charged across the courtyard, past the fire pit and the flagpole, the volleyball nets and the picnic benches, toward the mess hall.
Technically, April was charging, Jo was strolling. Because April had much shorter legs. Also April liked to CHARGE forward. Jo had very long legs, and she liked to stroll in long, loping strides, hands in pockets. It is a testament to Jo and April’s long friendship that they knew how to walk at the exact same speed while walking with completely different paces and strides.
It was probably also a cornerstone of their friendship that April liked to talk as much as Jo liked to be quiet and think.
If Jo and April both liked to talk, it would be a very loud friendship.
April breathed in deeply. “This day is splendidly, vociferously, unquestionably fabulous, is it not? I believe it is.”
Jo took a deep breath. It was true. The air smelled like pine, sunshine, and possibility.
Recently, the very adventurous members of Roanoke cabin—April, Jo, Mal, Molly, and Ripley—had charged up a mountain that didn’t end up being a mountain but rather a frequently disappearing access route to a society of very laid-back cloud people called Cloudies. This adventure also involved discovering a herd of smelly but magical unicorns.
That was a pretty epic day.
And today was a new day.
And April was ready for more epic-ness.
April rubbed her hands together, her ruby hair glinting in the sun. “Did you spend your morning of quiet reflection considering how we’re going to totally kick butt at Galaxy Wars?”
April said it like a TV game show announcer. GALAXY WAAARS!
Jo smiled. Jo’s hair was brown and did not glint in the sun, but it was still a very satisfying chestnut color.
“No,” she said. “Did you spend your morning of not-so-quiet reflection thinking about how we’re going to kick butt at—”
“Why, yes, in fact I did take a moment to reflect on that particular subject during my morning reflections, YES I DID!” April clenched her hands into tiny, powerful fists.
“I mean,” she took a preparatory breath. “Of course we’re going to rule the camp TO THE MAX at Galaxy Wars. Because we are awesome. And if there WERE a best cabin, which, let’s say that most rankings of any sort are subjective, but that you could set a roughly scaled order using a few key components like who is most prepared and most learned, then the most amazing cabin would have to be US!”
Jo paused while April took a deep breath.
Winning was not really as interesting to Jo as many other things. It didn’t even make her top-fifty things, if we’re honest.
Winning was in April’s top-ten interesting things. Currently under April’s bunk was a stack of books on stars and planets. Under April’s pillow was a dusty encyclopedia volume, Me–Mo, which covered subjects including medicine, merchants, monasteries, and, crucially, moons.
“I mean,” April said, standing up straight again, “obviously, it’s not about winning or losing, that’s not what being a Lumberjane is about, and thus it’s not what we’re about, as Lumberjanes. Obviously it’s about having fun, and we will have fun because that’s what we do.”
And then, April had a crystal-clear thought, and that thought was, That, and WINNING.
“Obviously,” Jo agreed.
Admittedly, Jo was half listening to April and half thinking about the moon-like craft she thought she saw landing in the trees the other night from her window in the cabin. Jo had followed what for Jo was standard procedure after this sighting, which was to try and collect more information. Which meant jumping out of bed in the middle of the night with her flashlight and rooting through the bushes for an hour, discovering nothing but a wayward nest of squirrels who did not enjoy the intrusion.
Jo wondered if maybe it was a dream.
A very vivid, very awake-feeling dream.
This thought must have registered on Jo’s face like a flicker of light. Like a dragonfly skipping across the calm waters of a summer lake.
April squinted, noticing the flicker. “Hey,” she said, and she was about to ask what WAS on Jo’s mind, but then the mess hall door swung open, and they were swallowed up by the cacophony of breakfast.
* Pronounced Penny-quee-quellle