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Never change your plans for a man. I hear Mama’s voice in my head. I know, I know, I say in response. But Friday Benjamin found out he was going to visit family in South Carolina, so he canceled our date. I asked one of the other ice cream employees if they could take my Saturday shift. Hungry for hours, they gladly accepted. So that freed me up to visit JJ in Savannah. It’s only three hours away from Atlanta, so I see no reason in going this long without seeing my best friend. Our distance apart will only become greater once I move to Las Vegas.
Aunt Didi said she has a friend who lives in Savannah and we can stay with them for the weekend.
I fan away her cigarette smoke. She had been trying not to light up on the drive but couldn’t help herself. I’m so excited to see JJ that the smoke doesn’t even bother me. I can’t wait to see the look on his face!
JJ’s campsite is outside of Savannah in a smaller town. There’s water all around, which explains why he needed to get his lifeguard certification. We drive on a gravel road, bumping along until we come to a clearing with tall trees and cabins scattered about. It seems eerily quiet without the campers here.
“This looks creepy,” Aunt Didi says.
It does look a little different than what I envisioned but I don’t think it’s creepy. I think Aunt Didi has just watched too many horror and psychological thriller movies that are set in the woods. Plus, the sky is covered with low, dark clouds. It’s going to rain soon, so I better hurry up and get inside.
“I’ll be fine Aunt Didi,” I point to a big wood building off to the right. “I think that’s the visitor’s center right there. I’ll go tell them I’m here for visitation weekend and get signed in. I’ll call you when I’m ready to go, okay?”
Aunt Didi is far more laid back than my dad would ever be. He definitely wouldn’t approve of me shifting schedules at work to see a guy. Even if it is JJ.
She lights another cigarette. “Alright, but you keep your phone on and call me if anything goes wrong. Matter of fact, I’m going to wait right here until you text me that things are okay.”
I climb out of her MKZ. It’s murky and humid outside. A squishing sound lets me know my white sandals have found mud. I can feel it oozing underneath my toes. Gross. That is not going to be a good look.
Keep going Clove, a date with destiny is not far away. I reach the visitor’s center door and pull the handle. It doesn’t budge. I try again. Nothing. Maybe it’s one of those doors where you’re supposed to push not pull. I push. Nothing.
I read the hours on the door. 7 a.m. to 5 p.m. It’s 5:05. Seriously? Adrenaline has been pumping through me, motivating me to go forth but this locked door is a bump in my plans. I look all over the door for a phone number. Finding one, I give it a call because surely not all visitors can make it here between those hours. The phone rings and rings until a groggy voice picks up.
“Hello, Welcome to Camp Titus. This is Curtis, how may I help you?”
“Hi, Curtis. I’m at the visitor’s center and the door is locked. Am I too late to visit with the staff?”
Curtis sounds like he’s eating ice. “No ma’am. Are you at the door?”
“Yes.”
“Alright, I’ll come get you. Hold on.”
The sound of several locks make noise on the other side and a guy about my height wearing an Atlanta Braves baseball cap opens the door. He looks like he’s about my age. There’s a walkie-talkie on his hip. “Who are you here to see?” he asks.
“JJ—I mean, Jonah Jourdan. He’s one of the counselors here. I think?”
Curtis gives me a quick once-over and then extends the door open for me to step inside. The cabin looks much nicer on the inside than it does on the outside.
Curtis picks up a phone to dial a number. While he’s on the phone, I look around. There are three steps that lead down into a room with bookshelves and a few tables with computers on them. Is this the library cabin JJ was talking about? He said I’d love it, but maybe he was being sarcastic. This room is like a multipurpose room or a cafeteria they tried to make into a library. The only good thing about it is that there are big open windows.
Curtis clears his throat behind me. “Miss, Jonah’s not here.”
I don’t think I heard him correctly. “What?”
“He’s gone for the weekend. Some staff stayed; some staff left. Jonah left. He said he was going to...” Curtis checks a clipboard and then turns it toward me. It’s some type of sign-in and sign-out log. I can see Jonah’s doctor-ish chicken scratch.
He signed out at 3:10 p.m. His destination: Atlanta.