6

Camp Games

The next morning, all the campers and counselors met in the mess hall for breakfast. There were long tables set up like a buffet, filled with pancakes, waffles, bacon, sausage, syrup, toast, and every other breakfast food a kid could dream up.

Even more incredible, the counselors acted like waiters, bringing chocolate milk, orange juice, and soda to the kids at each table.

“Wow, this is amazing,” Brodie said, scooping a handful of M&M’s onto his waffles. “My mom doesn’t even let me eat this stuff at home.”

“No joke,” Harper replied. “We must be dreaming.”

As they continued filling their plates, they saw Director McGee enter the main doors across the room. He was wearing another goofy hat, which looked like a giant banana. He approached the food line and began chatting with all the campers.

When he got to Harper and Brodie, he stuck out his hand for them to shake.

Brodie reached for it, and a shock buzzed through his hand. He quickly took it back and tried to shake out the strange tingly feeling.

Director McGee laughed and held up his palm, revealing a hand-buzzer from a gag shop.

“Gotcha!” he said, laughing at his own joke. “Boy, I’m going to miss this. How did you campers sleep last night?”

“Good, I guess,” Harper answered, still annoyed by the hand-buzzer prank on Brodie. She wasn’t sure what to think about Director McGee. “I admit, the built-in sound machines on each bunk and the celestial projection on the ceiling were pretty relaxing.”

“Yeah, soft music was playing in our cabin all night,” Brodie added. “I probably could have slept through the entire week if the counselors hadn’t woken us up this morning with their barbershop quartet rendition of ‘Oh, What a Beautiful Mornin’’!”

Director McGee chuckled.

“I’m glad you both got plenty of rest. You’re going to need it for all the fun things we have planned this week.”

They watched as Director McGee continued his rounds, encouraging campers to eat to their heart’s desire. He even stopped and placed a whoopee cushion in a chair and belly-laughed when he heard a camper sit on it.

A few moments later, Director McGee stepped up to the microphone on the stage at the front of the room. He cleared his throat and addressed the crowd. “Good mornin’, campers! I know that your counselors informed you last night that you can write letters home to your parents, and I wanted to let you know that you can drop them off in the blue basket that we’ll be coming around with here in a moment. I’ll personally be mailing them out every day before lunch.”

He held up the blue basket so that everyone could see it, then he started gathering letters from the campers, one table at a time.

“Are you going to write a letter home?” Brodie asked Harper.

“I probably should,” Harper replied, debating whether to make contact with her parents while they were still trying to figure things out. Ever since they told her what was going on, she had distanced herself from them.

Nearby, Darla filled her plate with pancakes and covered them with syrup and chocolate chips. She looked like a kid in a candy store.

Director McGee stopped to talk to her for a moment.

“I can’t wait to tell my family about camp!” she declared, setting down her plate and taking a family photo from her pocket to show him.

Director McGee smiled, blew a kazoo in her face, and continued on to another table.

Darla kissed the photo and started to put it back in her pocket. But Regina, who had been watching her, walked by and knocked the photo out of her hand, also bumping the syrup bottle off the buffet table.

The syrup spilled onto the tile floor, drenching the family photo.

“No!” Darla cried out, reaching her hand to the floor to save the photo.

“No one cares about your stupid picture,” Regina said. “If you were smart, you’d have it backed up on your Instagram.”

With tears in her eyes, Darla peered down at the photo. The syrup had covered the faces of her brothers, sisters, and parents.

“Oh, wait, you probably don’t have Instagram because you’re not old enough to have a phone yet. I don’t think they should allow kids into camp that aren’t even old enough to have a phone,” Regina said, jabbing a final blow, and then she walked away.

Harper hurried to Darla’s side.

“It’s ruined,” Darla said, feeling defeated.

“Here, let me help,” Harper offered, fetching a roll of paper towels and trying to wipe the syrup off the photo. But the harder she rubbed at it, the more damage she did. “You shouldn’t listen to anything Regina says. I don’t know what’s wrong with her.”

Harper hoped Darla might conjure a smile, but she seemed too sad, like the light inside her had been snuffed out.

During breakfast, Harper sat next to Darla. While they ate, Counselor Fuller conducted the morning roll call. All the while, Harper could feel Regina staring at them from the other end of the table. It was as if, for whatever reason, she had it out for Darla.

Once everyone was checked off the list, Counselor Fuller gave them instructions for the morning. “All right, ladies. It’s time to match up with a buddy.”

Regina and Tabitha immediately paired up. All the other girls did the same.

Harper turned to Darla. “Want to be my buddy?”

Without looking up, Darla gave a slight nod.

Counselor Fuller continued, “Unfortunately, Director McGee says it’s too foggy to go to the waterpark today, so the girls will be playing bazooka ball in the gym while the boys head over to the laser tag arena. We’ll switch during snack break and will have an epic indoor game of capture-the-flag this afternoon—boys against girls!”

She waved for the girls to follow her, and Harper and Darla quickly cleaned off their trays and joined the other girls.

When they arrived in the gym, there were a dozen blue and red dodgeballs lined up at the center of the court. But even more interesting were the cannon-like contraptions leaning against the walls.

“Half of you on each side!” Counselor Fuller instructed in a voice a bit more stern than her usual chipper one. “We’re going to play three rounds. When the whistle blows, fetch the balls at the center of the court, and bring them back to your team’s bazookas to launch at the other side. No aiming at the face—only the body. The winning team gets first dibs at the chocolate buffet tonight.”

Regina and Tabitha ran to the left side of the court with ten other girls. Harper and Darla joined the rest on the right side.

Everyone stood behind the white line, waiting for the whistle to blow.

Harper did her best to ignore the butterflies in her stomach. She always felt nervous before any kind of competition or performance—whether it was a spelling contest, volleyball game, or piano recital.

She noticed Darla standing off to the side next to one of the cannons and realized that Darla was feeling even more nervous than she was.

Even worse, Regina was staring daggers at Darla from across the gym.

“You want to take off your glasses and let Counselor Fuller hold them?” Harper asked.

Darla shook her head. “I can’t see anything without them,” she replied, more timid than usual.

“Just stay behind me, okay?” Harper said. “I’ll keep an eye on Regina.”

Darla nodded and hid herself behind Harper.

As soon as Counselor Fuller blew the whistle, Harper sprinted toward the center of the court while Darla stayed behind her. Close to the wall.

Regina was the first girl from either side to grab a rubber ball and make it back to her team’s cannon. She loaded it quickly, then took aim and launched it across the gym as hard as she could.

Harper watched in distress as the ball spun, as if in slow motion, directly toward Darla . . .

And then it knocked off her head.