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Authors: Annie Tipton

BOOK: Church Camp Chaos
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EJ thought for a moment. Should she ask about the mysterious crying and secret code words and unexpected meetings? The fact was that if they were going to move, she kind of didn’t want to know. At least not yet. So she decided on another approach.

“Macy might move to Milwaukee,” EJ said, watching Dad’s reaction.

“Macy might move to Milwaukee,” EJ said, watching Dad’s reaction.

“I see,” he said, nodding.

“What am I going to do if I lose my best friend, Dad?” EJ felt tears stinging her eyes. He put an arm around her shoulder and pulled her next to him.

“You know, EJ, because I’m a pastor, people expect that my answer to every question or problem is to just ‘pray about it’ or ‘read the Bible’ or ‘go to church more,’ ” Dad said. “While those are all good, doing those things isn’t what it means to live by faith. If you really, truly trust God—even in the hard times like when your best friend moves to Milwaukee—that means living without worry, knowing He has your back.”

“God cares that Macy is moving away?” EJ asked. She had never thought about that before.

“He cares that you’re concerned about it and it’s making you yell at your friends and family and dump popcorn on your brother’s head,” Dad said. “But He’s got the future under control. He wants you to trust Him about it.”

“Easier said than done,” EJ said.

“You’re absolutely right.” Dad chuckled. “It takes guts to have faith and fully trust God. I hope you’re up for the challenge, EJ.”

I hope I have enough guts
, EJ thought.

“Mom said if you apologize to your brother and help clean up the popcorn, we can get a couple of rounds of Uno in before bed,” Dad said. “You game?”

“Yeah, just keep the soda and popcorn away from me,” EJ said, grinning. Dad smiled and walked to the door, carefully tiptoeing around piles of clothes and junk on her floor.

“Hey, Dad?”

“Yes, daughter?”

“No matter what I’ve said in the past, I really like living in Spooner.” She tried to sound as convincing as she could. “A lot.”

“Ooooookaaaaaay.” Dad looked at her as if she’d gone loony. “That’s good to know.”

Chapter 8
J
AIL
B
REAK

 

July 19

Dear Diary,

Here’s the good news: CAMP STARTS ON MONDAY! And here’s the bad news: I’ve been banished to my room to clean it and pack for camp. And I’m not allowed to come out until both of those things are done. I would much (much) rather be outside in the beautiful weather I see just on the other side of my window.

At least Isaac is stuck inside cleaning his room, too.

Although, if I’m honest, Mom’s right in calling my room a “disaster area” this time. In the summertime, it seems extra easy to let the mess get out of control. In fact, my room sort of looks like a book, clothes, and shoes bomb exploded—I can’t see even one square inch of the floor or the top of my bed right now. (It took me fifteen minutes just to find you under a pile of dirty clothes, Diary!) And I have no idea how a lime-green flip-flop ended up hanging by its strap from the ceiling fan in my room. (I think I will blame my delirious, fever-y self from when I was sick with chicken pox.)

Apparently Isaac is avoiding cleaning his room as much as I am. A few minutes ago I could hear him jumping on his bed (the squeak of the mattress springs is a dead giveaway), and now I hear Isaac trying to convince Bert to clean his room. I don’t care how smart and talented that dog is, he’s not gullible enough to do Isaac’s work for him!

EJ

 

EJ looked longingly out the window and sighed. The weather was perfect for setting up the sprinkler and having a good run-through with Bert (one of his favorite summertime games). The punishment she was serving seemed too harsh for her crime.

“You are hereby sentenced to time behind bars (in your bedroom) for camp-packing procrastination and cleaning laziness,” the judge (Dad) had said, pounding his gavel (the bottom of his coffee mug) on the top of the courtroom bench (the kitchen table). “Take care of your responsibilities, and you may be granted an early release and a full pardon.”

EJ turned away from the window to face her mess of a room. She had to get to work if she wanted to play outside before the sun went down. She took a deep breath and started.

First she pushed all the clothes off her bed and onto the floor, bulldozer style. Next she quickly made her bed—the sheets were a little rumpled under the bedspread, but it was good enough for her. Then she pulled her red polka-dot roller suitcase from under her bed, unzipped it, and put it on top.

EJ rummaged through her top desk drawer until she found a crumpled piece of paper with Mom’s handwriting on it—a list of things to pack for camp. She smoothed it out by running it over the edge of the desktop. Then she sat down on her bed and read:

1. Eight
T-shirts (You’ll only be there for six days, but camp can get messy sometimes, so it’s a good idea to have extra.)

2. Four pairs of shorts (Or to be safe, pack one pair for every day. Your choice.)

3. Eight pairs of socks and underwear (See #1.)

4. Converse All-Stars (As if you’d go anywhere without these!)

5. Flip-flops (To wear in the shower and to the lake for swim time.)

6. Two pairs of jeans (It’ll get chilly in the evenings.)

7. Hooded sweatshirt (See #6.)

8. Pajamas

9. Bathing suit (DON’T FORGET THIS ONE!)

10. Shampoo, conditioner, soap, deodorant, toothbrush/toothpaste

11. Hairbrush and ponytail holders (If you’re lucky, you’ll have a dorm mom who will be able to fix your hair in French braids!)

12. Bug spray (You’re so sweet, the mosquitoes will eat you up!)

13. Flashlight (It gets dark at night at camp. Also fun for flashlight tag in the dorms.)

14. Diary and pen (To record all the fantastic memories you make at camp!)

EJ smiled as she set the list on her bed. She liked how specific Mom was on the list. Scratching the remnant of a chicken pock on her elbow, EJ wondered how all this stuff was supposed to fit in her little suitcase.

“All right, EJ. You can do it.” EJ gave herself a little pep talk as she dove into the mounds of stuff on her floor. Every time she found a piece of clothing on the packing list, she sniffed it to determine whether it was clean or dirty. If it was clean, she tossed it into the suitcase. If it was dirty, it went into a laundry basket. If it wasn’t obvious by the sniff test whether it was clean or dirty, EJ gave it the benefit of the doubt and tossed it in the suitcase.

By the time she’d found all the clothes on the list, her room was looking quite a bit cleaner. A dozen books made their way to their spots on the bookshelf, eliminating even more clutter. Next she picked up shoes and matched them in pairs before lining them up in her closet. For a half second, she couldn’t find the mate to a lime-green flip-flop, but then she remembered it was hanging from the ceiling fan, so she stood on her desk chair to get it down before slipping both sandals in the front zipper pocket of her luggage.

EJ had just started flattening the pile of clothes into her suitcase to get them to fit (folding clothes was a giant waste of time), when she heard a crunching noise coming from the small door that joined her room with Isaac’s. Until a couple of years ago, this was a fun “secret passage” that she and her brother would use to sneak back and forth between their rooms while they played. Until the day it wasn’t fun anymore.

EJ remembered it like it was yesterday: her ninth birthday—a slumber party with the girls from EJ’s class at school. Isaac sneaked through the secret door after lights-out wearing a Darth Vader mask that changed his voice to sound like the evil villain from the Star Wars movies. He woke up EJ and all her guests by yelling, “Luke … I am your father!” which was followed by seven full minutes of shrieking and screaming (the girls) and barking (Bert) before Mom and EJ could get everyone calmed down.

The secret passage door had been firmly locked from EJ’s side since.

Crunch, crunch
.

EJ tiptoed toward the door and listened.

The crunching stopped.

She held her breath.

The crunching started again.

EJ quietly unlocked and slowly twisted the knob before yanking the door open and shouting “Hey!” Isaac snapped his head up, eyes wide in surprise. His hands were still on the piece of paper he was trying to shove under the door, but the carpet was too high on either side for him to do it very easily, so the paper was getting more and more mangled each second his little fingers tried to get it to go under.

“What is this?” EJ snatched up the paper and saw that Isaac had written a note:

“Isaac, I’m busy!” EJ crumpled the paper and chucked the ball so it bounced off his forehead. “And you’re supposed to be cleaning your room, too!”

EJ slammed the door closed before Isaac could respond (or throw the paper wad at
her
head) and jammed the doorknob lock button till it clicked.

“But you didn’t circle one,” she heard Isaac say through the door.

EJ ignored him and returned to her bed, checking the list to see what she was still missing. Bug spray? She’d need to get that from Mom. Toiletries? Diary? She decided she would pack those at the last minute since she would still need to use them before she left for camp. Flashlight? She dug in her desk’s bottom drawer until she found her favorite red flashlight. She flicked it on and off a couple of times to make sure it worked and then tucked it in her suitcase among the mass of wadded-up clothes. She mentally checked off items from her list: socks, underwear, T-shirts, shorts, jeans, hoodie, shoes …

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