Camp went by faster after that.
I saw the director sometimes, on her golf cart.
She always waved at me,
and I always waved back.
But I never asked to go home.
Not even after I got a bug bite on my eyelid,
and my eye swelled half-shut.
I quit some activities because
of that bug bite.
Like archery.
Because it’s dangerous to shoot a bow and arrow
with one eye swollen half-shut.
I still had to go to swim lessons, though.
And,
after our seventh lesson,
our teacher tested us
to see who could move on, beyond Guppy.
I worked so hard during that test
to breathe just right
and show my teacher a strong kick.
I was determined, too,
to tread water the longest.
And I did it!
I pedaled a bike very slowly,
just like Joplin had taught me,
and outlasted all the other Guppies.
Only by six seconds.
I did it!
“Congratulations,” my teacher said to me
after I’d swum back to the dock.
“You are officially an Angel Fish.”
My whole cabin was hovering
when she said that.
Because I’d told Joplin about the test,
and she’d told everyone else.
They all jumped up and down
and cheered for me.
Then Hope shouted,
“To the trampoline!
No life jacket
for anyone!”
We all ran and leaped into the water together.
I loved sinking
deep, deep underwater
and kicking my way to the top.
Instead of bobbing on the surface like a duck,
in my diaper.
Then I raced with everyone else through the water
to the trampoline ladder.
I wasn’t the first to arrive.
But I wasn’t the last, either.
And that felt good, too.
As soon as I’d climbed up,
Joplin grabbed my hand.
And we
STOMPED
for each other again; and we
SOARED,
first one, then the other, again,
Later,
after changing into dry clothes,
I had an idea.
I explained it to Joplin,
and she said she’d help.
We gathered what we needed
and went outside.
I slipped my backpack onto my shoulders
and hugged my thin sleeping bag
and stood in front of my small, white cabin.
The way my mom had stood in front of hers,
so long ago.
I smiled,
thinking about my surprisingly nice day.
And Joplin took my picture.
I knew I wouldn’t look as happy as my mom did
in her picture.
I knew she really loved Camp Wallumwahpuck
and had never written an Esmeralda letter.
I knew she’d probably had a million happy days
at camp.
Still,
I liked having one
of my own.
