“Carol”
The
level of excitement that Carol awoke with was nearly too much for her to
handle. Endorphins pumped and her nerves went on edge. The day was finally
here. The day she had waited for all year long. The one she thought about
constantly, sitting at her boring receptionist job at the university, twiddling
her thumbs and just picturing all the great things that would start this day.
This was like Christmas to her. No, this was bigger than Christmas; this was
the first day of Summer Camp.
It
didn't matter what anyone thought about her excitement, she showed it without
shame. She had been there for several weeks helping to prep the camp with most
of the other counselors and it was hard enough to get the smile off her face. And
while she certainly enjoyed that -- one of the only counselors that did -- this
trumped everything else. No one else understood the camp like she did. Except
maybe Al, whose enthusiasm was more contained than Carol's. The day of campers’
first arrival was the true beginning of all the fun for her.
The
last few nights had been spent carefully preparing her routine. Every year she
would follow a basic structure but there were always tweaks and areas to
improve. First, she'd wake up at 5:30am, get out of bed and immediately wash
her face with cold water. Then apply a cleanser and wash it off. She'd then
wipe her face with Stridex pads and allow the exfoliant to work its magic. This
was valuable time that she combed her hair. Getting all knots out of her mane
transitioned smoothly into the ponytail she'd put it into.
After
making her way to the bathroom at 6:00, she would take only a two and a half
minute shower, as to not take all the hot water from the other counselors. Not
to mention the annoying showering plumbing that would sometimes go ice-cold out
of nowhere. The longer you were in, the higher your chances of getting iced. Simple
fact of camp life. Carol tried to fix it but given that she had no experience
in the subject whatsoever, she did more harm than good. Big Al certainly wasn't
appreciative of the $2,000 bill from the plumber.
Spending
twenty-two-and-a-half minutes adjusting her make-up, which looked shockingly
similar to how she looked without said beauty products, she put her hair into
its signature ponytail and started the strangest part of her daily routine.
She'd stare at the mirror for a good two minutes, pumping herself up, much like
a coach does to their players before a big game. She did this every morning. That
was it for her personal routine. Then it came into the fun stuff: the counselor
routine.
First
she'd go to her campers’ bunk at precisely 7:30, waking them up with the rapid
clanging of the bell, hung outside the cabin. They'd wake up on the grouchy
side, but nothing Carol couldn't fix with a massive smile and interesting fact,
usually regarding sleep and often more opinion than fact. Her go-to on the
first morning was always, "The natural human sleep cycle follows the sun,
and the more you do too, the more likely you'll grow up to be big and
bright." Lots of opinion.
After shuffling the campers off to
the showers, an activity she allotted 45 minutes of time for, she'd calmly read
her school books in front of the cabin. Sometimes she'd peek in on the girls
and tell them to hurry up, just to keep them in line and maybe hear some choice
gossip.
Once
the campers were all showered and dressed, it was time for the meeting at the
flag. Here, every group would stand in line and say the pledge of allegiance as
the American flag was risen high in the sky. They used to have a prayer at the
end but that changed in the 90's to a moment of silence, then finally in the
2000's, it was dropped completely.
The
Camp Watanka song would follow. Carol, accompanying on the guitar and easily
the loudest voice at the camp, would stand near the front and sway back and
forth, like she was on a stage in front of thousands and thousands. She really
liked that damn song.
With
the campers' stomach's grumbling, it was time for breakfast. This would usually
happen at 8:30 but given Al's looseness with scheduling, it would sometime go
over or under by several minutes. No matter though, Carol always kept a spare
hacky sack on her when she needed to fill time and build bonds of friendship in
her group.
Giving
a helping hand to Marjory, the camp cook and a staple of Camp Watanka since
1973, Carol would stand behind the counter and serve food. It was her way of making sure every camper
had their meal for the day and no one went hungry. Carol had read long ago that
an easy way to avoid a grouchy teenager was to give them plenty of fuel for the
day ahead, something she treated like it wasn't common knowledge to society. It
was.
It took
almost thirty minutes to get all of the kids through the line, then an
additional thirty minutes for them to eat -- thirty five if it was omelet day. This
meant that by the time they were ready to separate into groups and begin the day’s
activities, it was already 9:30. Carol repeatedly told Al that the kids were
slow and should be faster so that they can start the activities by 8:30 but Al
just wouldn't budge. He claimed, "The kids needed their sleep and don't
need to be rushed everywhere," or something stupid, at least Carol thought
so. She had far too much to do to have such a late start.
Once separated
into groups, this was when the day really began, or so Carol believed. This was
when all her hard planning paid off. See, she didn't treat the day’s activities
like most other counselors; an unfortunate fact given the amount of time Carol
spent lobbying for her system to be implemented camp-wide.
From
health books on physical fitness for youths, to psychology books about mental
stimulation through problem solving, each book was a tool in her overall plan
to make these kids, at the end of the two month period, better in every way
possible. These were the minds of tomorrow, and Carol needed to do everything
she could to nourish them and let them flourish.
The
other counselors found her odd for some reason.
The
three hour period of activities before lunch ranged from scavenger hunts, hide
and seek, word association games, eventually culminating in a trust fall for
each of the group members. This was Carol's favorite activity because it showed
how much the kids got more comfortable around each other, and more importantly
around Carol, who needed their approval.
Then at
12:30, lunch would follow a similar structure to breakfast, with Carol
assisting Marjory with food. Given that the campers were more awake from all
the physical activity, Carol would bust out her guitar and sing upbeat poppy
music. Carol could sometimes see certain campers bobbing along to the tune.
That was enough for her to consider her job well done.
After
lunch at precisely 1:30, all of the groups would remain as one and do a massive
activity. This would range from rock climbing to baseball to basketball to
capture the flag, all depending on the day. Marion would usually take the reins
here but Carol would end up taking over naturally throughout the course of the
session. For some reason, Marion would often look at Carol, annoyed as she
yelled out commands, trying to make the game more fun. Some people just
don't understand how to have fun, Carol thought.
Next
came the time of the day that Carol tried to get rid of year after year,
considering it was nothing other than hormonal fraternizing and nonsense:
swimming time. The entire camp would venture to the lake and enjoy the water
and sunshine. Carol claimed it was nothing other than a chance for the boys to
oogle the girls who are themselves being inappropriate by wearing such scantily
clad clothing. Carol would watch over them on top the lifeguard stand, with her
custom made one-piece bathing suit; an item of clothing that looked popular in
the 1950's.
5:30
the groups would separate into whatever specialty class they wanted to take. These
included kayaking, archery, pottery, and woodworking. Carol taught pottery and
her attendance numbers were well below the average for the other groups. Al
always told Carol she needed to come up with a different one.
"Kids
just aren't that into spinning clay," he once said.
Carol
scoffed at the notion, refusing to believe such an art-form would go
unappreciated. It just gave a cause to her pottery class. Last year she had two
campers sign up.
Dinner
time would spring up around 6:30 and the groups would converge much like lunch
and breakfast. This time, however, Carol wouldn't join Marjory to pass out
food. Since dinner had a much looser feel given the lack of planned activities
afterwards, Al told Carol it was unnecessary for her to help out. Carol
refused, but when Al said that dinner was valuable bonding time for the
counselors, she shut up and did as told. So instead she sat at the counselor's
table, trying her hand at bonding with her coworkers. It usually resulted in
silence while she judged whatever the others were talking about.
Once
dinner finished, it was considered "free-time" though really, it
depended on your age. The older campers were allowed to either go to the
campfire pits, stay in the mess hall for board games, or return to their
cabins. Most would split their time between the fires and the cabins. The
younger kids would be forced to stay in the mess hall. Carol remained in the
hall and played board games with those that stayed.
Once
9:00 hit, Carol would close up shop in the mess hall, sending the campers back
to their cabins in order to keep the 9:30 curfew. Usually she'd have some
difficulty getting some of the older kids to leave the campfire, but then
Marion would come along and deal with it. Carol resented the position Marion
had, but she was at least thankful for the respect she commanded. It was always
something that Carol strove for.
At
precisely 9:35, Carol would enter the cabin she shared with Marion who, unless
she was suffering from an illness or invested in a really good book, wouldn't
be back in the cabin for several hours. She'd be hanging out with the other
counselors from times ranging anywhere from 12:00 to 3:33am. Once Marion didn't
even come back to the cabin. Carol was shocked at Marion's pure disregard for
her own mental health.
After a
fairly quick routine of removing her makeup and brushing her teeth, she'd rest
her head on her pillow and fall asleep, no later than 10:00pm. Usually.
These
were her days. This was her routine. This was the only way she knew how she
live at the camp. It may have made her predictable but that's how Carol liked
it. Old reliable Carol.
The
16x16 structure that Carol called home during her time at Watanka had become
more of a home to her than even her childhood house. This was where she
actually enjoyed spending her time. A place that always seemed to represent
something better. At least that's what Carol would often tell herself when she
was away from it. It wasn't like her cabin was anything special. She shared it
with Marion, the head counselor, a person Carol both looked up to and despised.
So space was tight. And outside of beds, they had to share everything else.
Even drawers, which sometimes lead to the wearing of each other's clothes on accident.
Marion didn't care much about it. Carol did. Still, it had a comfort to it that
Carol just couldn't seem to replicate anywhere else.
Carol's
appearance completely encapsulated her personality: her strawberry blonde locks
almost too perfect and full of volume. Her flawless skin glowed in the most
doll-like of ways. Carol clearly took good care of herself in every way. In
fact, she may have even been considered attractive if she actually dressed the
part. Instead she often looked closer to
that of a Mormon intent on never having sexual relations.
In the
bunk next to her own, Marion stirred awake, immediately grabbing the small
cartridge next to her bed and taking a small puff. Those damn electronic
cigarettes, Carol thought to herself, being a person that despised all
smoking. Eyes still closed, Marion exhaled deeply, opening her eyes to
see Carol, her eyes already meeting Marion's gaze. Those wide, blue, doll-like
eyes.
"You
have to stop doing that. One of these days I'm gonna have a heart attack or
you're gonna accidentally get socked in the face. Either, or," Marion said, covering up
her mouth to yawn.
"Well
wake up, boss," Carol smiled obnoxiously.
"I
don't know how you do it," Marion said, barely getting the words out
through another yawn, "5AM and you're as chipper as ever. And no alarm
clock, even."
"You
don't have an alarm clock either," she said with a ridiculous amount of
pep.
"You
are my alarm clock, Carol," Marion sighed, clearly not impressed with the
situation which would repeat itself for the next month.
"Well,
you're welcome then," Carol responded with a big smile.
"Yeah,
waking up to Princess Peach staring at me is a wonderful way to start my day.
Not terrifying in the least." Marion laid the sarcasm on thick.
"Oh
come on! Don't be a sour puss. The kids arrive in just a few short hours! We're
about to change lives," Carol said playfully. Her voice was light and
flowing, taking cadences from nearly every Disney princess, forming a unique
and even ridiculous speech pattern. Marion ignored it easily, given her many,
many years of practice.
"Yeah
and I have paperwork to file for two last minute applicants, a phone call I
need to make to Steve to figure out what's wrong with payroll since currently
no one is being paid and I can't really corral a bunch of irresponsible college
kids to work without reward," Marion said, catching her breath.
"That's all prior to when a hundred kids join us, where they need
to be separated into bunks, hopefully ones that don't cause problems but you
know how that goes, it's pretty much just luck. Then we have to set up the
whole schpeal about what to expect and sing that stuuuupid song. God I hate
that fucking song."
"I
love that song," Carol slipped right into it before Marion could even
react.
"Ohhhh I looove, Camp
Watanka
It's the best camp in the whole
United Staaaates.
There's no sad place, on our
campers face
Because with all the fun to be
had youuuu must embrace,
And brace yourself, for days of
fun.
Cause it’s all right here for
eeeeeeveryyyyyoooooone!
Camp Watanka!"
Marion was out of the cabin
to go shower before Carol was even done singing.
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