Looking around, Rebecca saw colorful wildflowers blooming in green meadows. Above her, birds chirped and trilled in a cheerful chorus that filled Rebecca with a warm glow. She had never heard anything like it in the city.
“Look,” shouted a camper, “strawberries!” They all turned their heads toward a field of low plants with bright red berries clustered under the leaves.
“Oh, I adore strawberries,” gushed one of the girls.
“Maybe our cook will bake us strawberry pies,” said a counselor.
“Humph,” grumbled a redheaded camper. “There weren’t any pies last year. The cook thought we should all eat an extra serving of broccoli for dessert, she did!” The redhead spoke with an Irish brogue, and Rebecca liked the lilting sound.
“Oh, Red, it wasn’t that bad,” another girl responded. “I think I remember you having a pretty healthy appetite.” The redhead tossed her curly hair and ignored the comment.
“We were quite fortunate to hire a wonderful new cook this summer,” said Miss Henry. “She’s called Miss Pepper.” The girls twittered at the cook’s funny name.
“I hope she doesn’t put pepper in our food!” one of the girls joked.
The path meandered through towering trees, and Rebecca sniffed the piney air. A soft bed of pine needles cushioned her feet. The forest grew deeper, and a thick canopy of leaves shrouded the sunlight. After a long walk through the woods, the girls passed under an archway. Overhead, a carved wooden sign read “Camp Nokomis.”
Rebecca’s breath caught in her throat. She had left the city behind as surely as if she had walked into another world. Instead of crowded apartment buildings and alleyways, the girls filed past a row of tents and entered a clearing. A towering wooden pole stood in the center with a flag waving in the breeze. Nearby, a dazzling blue pond glistened in the sunshine.
“I wish you all an enjoyable and productive stay,” Miss Henry said. “I shall see you again in eight days.” She walked toward a rough log building with an open porch.
A counselor stepped forward. She wore her hair in one long braid. “I’m Barbara,” she said, “but everyone here calls me Babs. We’ll be spending lots of time together in Crafts.” Babs pointed away from the clearing to the row of tents. “You’ll be assigned to a tent according to your age. The first tent is called Turtle, and it’s for the eight-year-olds. Nine-year-olds are in Crane, and going up in age we have Deer, Beaver, and Loon.” Rebecca counted on her fingers. She would be in Beaver.
The campers stared solemnly at Babs. “Don’t look so serious,” she said. “You’re going to have a whopping good time!”
As the counselors introduced themselves and assembled their charges, Rebecca gazed at the pond. She could hardly wait to jump into the rippling blue water. Her eyes scanned the shoreline, where she saw a row of green, red, and yellow wooden canoes just waiting to slide across the gentle waves.
“Camp is so much better than being stuck at home,” Rebecca said to an older girl standing next to her. The girl nodded and grinned. Rebecca couldn’t wait for all the camp adventures to begin.
A slim, wavy-haired counselor called out in a perky voice, “Eleven-year-olds follow me to Beaver.”
That’s me! Rebecca realized and stepped forward. She thought the dimple-cheeked young woman looked sweet.
“I’m Virginia,” said the counselor with a bright smile. “I’m so glad to meet you all.”
Rebecca eagerly joined several girls as they approached the large white canvas tent. From the Loon tent next door came a rousing cheer. “Loonies, Loonies, hip, hip, hooray!”
The redheaded girl from the walk to camp was in Rebecca’s group. She nodded knowingly. “Some of us have been here before,” she said.
What fun, Rebecca thought. I hope I’ll be back next summer, too.
The Beavers filed into the tent, and Rebecca looked around at the empty bunk beds and rough wooden floor. She was surprised to see a camper already making up a bottom bunk. She didn’t recognize her from the train or the hike to camp. Of course, there were so many new faces, she easily could have missed her.
Virginia handed out bundles of sheets and striped wool blankets. “Can you make up your beds?” A few girls admitted they had never done it before. “Time to learn!” Virginia said. “I’ll turn you into experts.” As the girls collected their bedding, she told them, “There aren’t many rules here, but making your bed each morning is one of them. I want to see tight corners! In addition, you’ll be assigned a daily chore that must be done promptly and well. Never leave the campground without permission, and once you’re in bed for the night, no wandering outside the tent. There are plenty of skunks, and last year campers saw a bear prowling around.”
Rebecca gulped. Skunks and bears? The forest didn’t seem as safe as her own street back in the city.
“Now, pick a bed and I’ll give you a bed-making lesson,” said Virginia. The girls looked at the two rows of metal bunks, uncertain which beds to choose.
The red-haired camper with the brogue took command. “I was here last year, so I’ll help everyone set up,” she said, turning to the girl closest to her. “You’ll be up top here.” Then she patted her hand on the lower bunk and turned to a second girl. “You take the bottom.”
Rebecca could barely take her eyes from the girl’s flaming copper-red hair. Her skin was as pale as Mama’s milk pudding, and there was a sprinkling of cinnamon freckles across her nose and cheeks. Rebecca couldn’t help but admire the confident way the girl went about organizing everyone. Although she still missed Rose, Rebecca suddenly felt certain she would make lots of interesting friends at camp, starting with the spunky redhead.
She assigned Rebecca to the bunk above the girl who had arrived first. The girl smiled and Rebecca beamed at her. She was sure they were going to become best friends.
The red-haired camper plunked her bedding on the bottom of one of the remaining empty bunks and set her carpetbag on the upper bed. “I guess I have this entire bunk all to myself,” she announced. She sounded surprised, but Rebecca couldn’t help wondering whether she had planned it that way.
Rebecca looked for a place to store her carpetbag and saw a flat-topped leather trunk near her bunk. “Is this where we put our things?” she asked her bunk mate.
“Oh, no,” the girl said. “That’s mine.”
Rebecca stared at the large trunk. “How in the world did you carry it all the way from the train station?” she asked, setting her bag on a bench at the foot of the bunk bed.
“My mother had it sent,” the girl responded.
Rebecca flapped open her bottom sheet and tried to reach up to make her bed. The girl below scooted out. “You can stand on the edge of my bed,” she offered. She was dressed in a long, oversized jumper that nearly covered her feet. Rebecca tried not to stare at the ill-fitting dress.
“I’m Rebecca Rubin,” she said. “What’s your name?”
“Christina,” the girl said in a soft voice. “Christina Pfeffer.”
“Now that we’re bunk mates,” Rebecca said, “we’ll get to know each other really well.” Stepping carefully onto the edge of Christina’s bed, she tucked the bottom sheet tightly around the edges. Christina handed her the top sheet and then the blanket. The girl’s wrists were as thin as straws, and bangs nearly hid her eyes.
“I can’t wait to get out