Before Wings (17 page)

His fear ran around them in circles. She yawned sleepily and waited for it to subside.

“Promise you won’t do that again,” he said, letting her go. “Never reach for them. If they want you, they’ll take hold and pull you through.”

“All right,” she said, but she couldn’t understand his fear. It had felt so beautiful, like a dream from which she was just waking. She touched Paul’s mouth, and he sighed.

“Just think,” he said. “Life could go on like this, day after day after day.”

thirteen

Adrien was restless. It was evening, everyone on staff was involved with programmed activities except her, and all she could think about was Paul. Leaving the cabin, she drifted toward the lake. As usual, the spirits were a soft glow, floating on the water’s surface.
Wait a minute
, Adrien thought, her pulse quickening.
They’re floating just under the surface, not on it. The way I do in my dreams.
The waves blurred their glowing outlines, and she realized she had seen the spirits awake several times only—twice when the weather had been stormy, and yesterday, when they had joined the girls to swim in the lake. They seemed to spend most of their time sleeping. What did they dream about—the brief week they had been alive at Camp Lakeshore? Was that why she
kept seeing the five girls—the sleeping spirits were sending her their memories? But why her? No one else seemed to experience their dreams, not even Paul. Did Aunt Erin?

She crossed to Prairie Sky and leaned against an outer wall, swatting mosquitoes. A group of eight-year-olds went by on a nature walk, and shrieks from a game of Capture the Flag echoed through the woods. Then she heard Nat’s voice, coming from inside the cabin.

“If you tell, we’ll kill you.”

She moved to a window and peered in. The interior light was on and she could see eight girls facing off in two groups—five on one side, three on the other.

“You don’t scare me, Nat,” said one of the three. “I’m still telling.”

“But you’ll get Erin in trouble,” Debbie said pleadingly.

“She should get in trouble.” The girl crossed her arms defensively. “She’s supposed to be here at night, looking after us. And you’re not supposed to be out there, running around.”

“Why not?” Sherry stepped forward, her hands on her hips, and the three girls shuffled backwards, bumping into each other.

“Because it’s not safe,” blustered one of the three.

“What’s not safe?” scoffed Nat. “The moon? The trees?”

“What if a man saw you?”

“Here at camp?” demanded Nat. “Anyway, what’s one guy going to do to all of us?”

Roberta stood closest to the window, pulling nervously at her hair. Cath and Debbie sat on a nearby bunk, their gazes darting from Nat to the three girls. Debbie chewed her nails. Sherry and Nat leaned forward in full battle position, glaring.

“I’ll find out where you live,” Nat threatened. “I’ll track you down. I’ll—”

“Why don’t you come with us?” Roberta interrupted. “We never said you couldn’t come.”

“I don’t want to go out in the dark,” said one of the three. “And you’re not allowed. You’re breaking the rules. Erin’s letting you and she’s a bad counselor.”

“She is not.” Enraged, Sherry shoved her face into the other girl’s. “She’s in love.”

“Well, she’s not supposed to be,” the girl said flatly.

“She doesn’t know we go out,” protested Cath. “It’s not her fault. We sneak out after she leaves.”

“You wouldn’t even know she goes out,” said Roberta, “except we woke you last night by accident.”

“I bet you sneak out to meet the boys,” said the girl farthest from Sherry, her eyes narrowed, her arms also crossed.

“No,” Debbie said quickly. “We do stuff on our own.”

“You were skinny-dipping,” the same girl accused.

A tiny smile crossed Nat’s face. “How long did you watch?”

The other girl froze, and Nat closed in.

“Did you like watching us skinny-dip, Lesley?”

“I just heard you and wanted to see what you were doing.” Lesley was losing ground rapidly. Her eyes faltered and she began to turn away.

“I think you liked it,” Nat hissed. “Lesley the Lez. If you tell anyone about Erin or us being out at night, I’ll tell everyone you spied on us because you like girls.”

“We didn’t spy on you,” said one of the others, trying to bolster Lesley. “You could’ve been in trouble or something.”

“No one’ll believe that after the story we tell about you three.” Nat was calm, tasting victory.

“I’m with Nat.” Sherry smiled, twisting her ponytail. “We’ll tell everyone, right, Debbie?”

“Right,” said Debbie.

“Right, Cath?”

“Right,” agreed Cath.

“What about you, Robi?”

When Roberta finally nodded, the air changed. The three girls stared at her, then moved apart. From this point on, anything they did together would be suspect—talking, laughing, even looking at each other. Nat had come up with the perfect accusation.

“Only a lez would want to stop Erin from seeing her boyfriend,” Nat said with a satisfied smile.

The scene vanished, leaving Adrien on tiptoe, stiff from straining to see in. She was about to let go of the window ledge when another scene took shape. The three girls were lying silent in their bunks and Roberta stood in the center of the dark cabin, holding a flashlight.

“I don’t think you’re lezzes,” she said. “Anyway, who cares if you are? It’s all just love, isn’t it?”

“It’s dirty and it’s a lie,” said one of the girls.

Roberta hesitated. “I’m sorry Nat made you feel bad. She was really scared that you’d tell on Erin. Erin’s ... the best counselor I ever had. She’s just the best. And she’s in love. Haven’t you ever been in love? Mad-crazy for someone? I can tell you how it feels—like the grass, sky and air are whispering and touching each other. You’re so happy, you can hardly breathe. Everything’s soft and warm, and you want to lie down and roll like a kaleidoscope, so everything mixes together and your whole body’s spinning while you think about the one you love.” Roberta’s voice wobbled, but she kept going. “That’s what Erin’s feeling. She spends all day and evening trying to ignore it and be the best counselor in the world for you and me, so I think we can let her have an hour with her boyfriend while we’re asleep.”

The three girls continued to lie in silence, their backs to her. “Well?” Roberta asked uncertainly, wiping her eyes. “Aren’t you going to say something?”

“Will you make Nat and Sherry promise not to lie about us?” came a muffled voice. Roberta wasn’t the only one crying.

“I’ll talk to them,” Roberta said quickly. “They were just scared. Honest.”

“They’re mean,” said another voice.

“I won’t tell on Erin,” said the third.

“You won’t?” Roberta swung the flashlight at her. The girl rolled over and blinked in the light. It was Lesley. She shook her head.

“No matter what,” she said. “I promise.”

“What about you, Patty?” Roberta aimed the flashlight at another girl.

“All right,” came her reluctant voice.

“No matter what?” Roberta probed.

“No matter what,” Patty sighed.

“Joanne?” Roberta lit up the third girl.

“I’ll think about it.”

Roberta knew she had won. A smile flooded her face and she jumped several times, bouncing light all over the cabin. “Oh, I love you guys. Thank you, thank you. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

Adrien sagged against the side of the cabin.
No matter what.
Roberta, Sherry, Nat, Cath, Debbie, Lesley, Patty and Joanne—chance had thrown these eight girls together with Erin Wood twenty years ago, and five of them had died. If
the three girls had talked, the five would be alive today, but they had all believed in love. Love was the most precious thing. It brought the body alive—she could feel it now, just as Roberta had described it, a kaleidoscope that rolled and whispered and hummed in her skin.

There were too many questions without answers. Adrien was so tired, she could hardly hold up her head. Returning to the cabin, she was about to crawl into bed when she encountered two strange pillows. Without another thought, she turned toward Darcie’s bed, burrowed into the smell of her own pillow and fell deeply asleep.

She woke, surrounded by the sleeping of girls. Their breathing was deep and even, placid as the lake when the air was still. Emerald light streamed through the window above Darcie’s bed, shifting with slow leaves. Everything floated on a deep calm.

She was still wearing her clothes and realized she hadn’t woken when the others came in last night. They must have tiptoed down the hall, then crawled quietly over the mattresses on the floor so they wouldn’t wake her. Adrien drifted with these thoughts, turning and slipping through them like a skinny dipper. This was what it felt like when people cared about you—the air and water, earth and sky belonged to you; there was no difference between walking, swimming or flying; everywhere you went you were home.

Darcie’s eyes opened.

“Morning, Spart,” whispered Adrien.

“So you didn’t die during the night?”

“Nope.”

“You didn’t shit your pants?”

“Nope.”

“Well, that’s a relief. Did Connor come in last night?”

“Not that I noticed.”

“I guess that’s what matters.” She sat up and stretched. “I slept all night. I feel like a new woman.”

“Thanks for not waking me up.”

Darcie leaned against the wall and smiled. “You were hogging the bed, but you looked like an angel sleeping there, so I decided not to bug you.”

The nine-year-old squirt who had lost her boombox to Aunt Erin’s rules was wearing a red Camp Lakeshore T-shirt. Adrien smiled as she watched the small girl stand in silent adoration next to Aunt Erin, who was dressed in a blue Camp Lakeshore T-shirt. Above their heads, the flag rose into the wind, rippling its brilliant red and white, and early-morning voices croaked into “O Canada,” gradually gaining strength. Another day at Camp Lakeshore had begun.

Breakfast was pancakes and bacon. Adrien was absolutely positive she had never been this hungry. Her first plateful dove down her throat, and she joined the line for seconds. When she returned to the table, Aunt Erin was sitting in her seat, face drawn and tired, talking to Guy.

“Not feeling well. Going to lie down. Maurice is at Ranch Camp for the day. Take over for me, would you?”

“Sure, Erin.” Guy nodded quietly. “I know the schedule. Don’t worry about a thing.”

“I’ll handle the office,” Gwen added quickly.

As Aunt Erin stood, she noticed Adrien next to her, holding a plate heaped with pancakes. A faint smile lit her eyes and she placed a hand briefly on her niece’s shoulder. Then she walked out.

“You were right,” Gwen said to Guy. “Lucky you memorized the schedule yesterday.”

“Right about what?” asked Adrien, sitting down.

“First week of camp,” Guy said easily. “Erin gets over-stressed about mid-week. Then she’s over it and the rest of the summer goes fine.”

Adrien didn’t buy it. Professional camp staff stressed out in mid-August, not the third day of July. She was no longer hungry and pushed her plate away. “Is she going to a doctor?”

“She’ll lie down for the day. Tomorrow she’ll be fine.”

“After 1:37?”

Guy gave her a confused look and Adrien decided not to pursue it. “Never mind,” she said. “My blood vessels are weak today,” and she got up to shovel her plateful of food into the garbage.

Paul was early. She stood waiting outside the office as he coasted to a stop in front of her. Immediately, he leaned in for a kiss. She giggled with relief, and they managed several warm sloppy ones before a shrill whistle cut them off. They pulled apart to see Guy giving them a ferocious glare.

“Now there’ll be none of that while I’m in charge,” he declared. “No romantic fraternizing, none at all.”

“You’re in charge?” Paul grinned. “Get real.”

“For the day,” Guy said, swaggering. “And you, scum of the earth, are helping me put in supports for the Wishing Tree.”

“Aunt Erin’s sick,” explained Adrien.

Paul’s face went quiet and he disappeared into his thoughts. “I’ll lock my bike,” he said, turning away.

“Would someone please tell me what’s going on?” Adrien cried in frustration, looking at Guy. She knew Paul wouldn’t tell her anything, but Guy’s face also closed.

“It’s your aunt’s business,” he said, heading off to meet with the maintenance crew.

By mid-morning, the sky had clouded over and a wind picked up. Children still wanted their Mars Bars and Nibs, but she also sold a few sweatshirts. At her fifteen-minute break she headed to the kitchen. Maybe the hairnets would give her some answers.

They were frenetically busy, running from boiling pots to hot ovens to countertops, all the while maintaining a constant barrage of non-English. “Excuse me,” Adrien bellowed from the doorway.

The hairnets turned en masse and smiled. “It’s Adrien!” one of them exclaimed. “The girl who wants to grow up to be a cook.”

“Become a lawyer,” said another. “Better pay.”

“Better shoes,” said the third. “Oh, my aching feet.”

“Could I ask you a question?” asked Adrien.

“Sure, sure,” they chorused and waited.

“What language are you speaking when it’s not English?”

They looked at each other, surprised. “Ukrainian, dear,” said the nearest one.

“How d’you say please in Ukrainian?”

Now they looked dumbfounded.

“
Proshoo
,” one said quickly.