Lighting the Flames (23 page)

“
Are
you sure? That you want to stay here, I mean?
”

She opened her eyes briefly, and slowly breathed in
the scent of him, of the wool of his sweater and the smoke from
lighting the fire. Not every feeling he created was exhausting, she
realized. Sitting next to him on the couch, she felt desire and
contentment and curiosity, none of which were unpleasant.

They
’
d slept in the same
place, in adjoining sleeping bags, before, on campouts and staff
retreats. This wouldn
’
t be so different, except that
they
’
d be alone, and they wouldn
’
t have to whisper
back and forth after everyone had fallen asleep.

Well, no, they probably still would, but she
definitely also planned to kiss him good night. More than once.

“
Absolutely.
”

*

Saturday, December
20, 2014
—
29 Kislev 5775

Fifth night of Hanukkah

After Shabbat came to
an end, with the spice box passed from mitten to glove around the
group and the braided candle extinguished with a sizzle in the cup
of wine, it was time to light the menorah. Everyone was outside by
the bonfire together, waiting for the final team competitions.
Scott didn
’
t think they could light the Hanukkah candles outside and
keep them lit, so he stood on the porch of the dining hall while
the rest of them stood as near as possible to the bonfire without
actually being in it.

Gen stood with the firelight in front of her and
Jeremy behind, so she felt all of the warmth and none of the cold
night wind. When Scott began to shout the blessings so he could be
heard over the rattle of the icy branches above them and the
crackle of the fire, she felt Jeremy suppress a laugh. She tried to
elbow him, but he caught her arm.

When she tipped her
head back to smile up at him, the expression on his face stopped
her movement, then stopped her breath. He was looking down at her
with that secret, almost hidden smile she recognized, but it
wasn
’
t just his mouth. His eyes were part of that smile, with
the crinkles at the corners and the sunburn on his cheeks. He
looked so happy.

Then he slid his arm
around her, gently pulling her back against him with his hand
across her shoulder. It didn
’
t feel like a
friendly embrace. It wasn
’
t unfriendly, but it
wasn
’
t just friends, either. It wasn
’
t like the first
night of Winter Camp, when they
’
d stood in a similar
position.

Now she was tucked into the space of his arm, and he
had pulled her closer to him so that more of her body touched his.
If she lowered her chin a fraction of an inch, she could rest her
head on his hand, increasing their contact. It made her heart
pound, thinking about another part of her touching him, even if it
was just her chin and his hand.

A few parents noticed,
glancing at them, then glancing away as if the sight of them
standing together wasn
’
t really that
shocking. Maybe it wasn
’
t. But
Gen
’
s chest was a staccato rhythm fueled by surprise and by
want. She wanted more of her to touch him, not just now, but later
and tomorrow.

The sound of everyone reciting the Hanukkah
blessings interrupted her thoughts, and she joined in
automatically, the words and recitation increasingly familiar after
saying them for five nights. The first night she usually had to
think to remember the words, and sometimes the second night, too,
but by the middle of Hanukkah, she knew the blessings by heart, and
she knew how far the candles would burn down in the time it took to
say them.

But this night was
different. Jeremy stood closer to her, and it felt like he
surrounded her. They
’
d stood alongside one another nearly every night
since they
’
d arrived, his voice and hers adding to the strange, always
identical monotone of people reciting prayer. Now she heard his
voice above her head but felt his words against her back, pressing
softly into her skin through all the layers she wore.

Did he pray every
night, even when it wasn
’
t Hanukkah? He said
he prayed while he stood
shemira
. Did he pray
at other times?

The warmth of the fire
and the sensation of Jeremy
’
s voice against her
skin made her face flush, the heat so intense inside and out her
skin prickled, and she reached up to rub her gloves against her
cheeks. That caught Scott
’
s attention, and when
he looked over and saw her, how she was folded into
Jeremy
’
s embrace, his arm around her, he frowned. But not at her.
He frowned at Jeremy. And Gen could tell by the way he shifted in
place that Jeremy saw it.

But he stayed where he
was. He didn
’
t step back or move closer. After a moment, Gen
lowered her chin to rest on his hand as they finished the blessings
and each candle on the menorah was lit.

*

The final
night
’
s bonfire seemed like a good idea
—
and it had been
Scott
’
s idea, too, one that he and Genevieve had agreed with
instantly, even before they hatched a plan to turn Winter Camp into
a runny-nosed color war. But it was really, really cold, and there
wasn
’
t enough wood in the world to make sure everyone there was
sufficiently warm.

There were a few final events scheduled, including
the team cheer competition and the unveiling of the team signs,
which would hang in the dining hall along with the summer camp
color war plaques.

Scott made his way over to the bonfire when he was
done lighting the menorah, which now sat inside on a table by the
window, and held his hands up to the flames to warm them.

“
More wood?
”
Jeremy tightened his arm around Gen for a moment
before he let go and moved to add fuel to the
fire.

“
No,
I think we should let it be. We can make s
’
mores and do the
cheers, then move inside for the rest of the
evening.
”

To say there was a sigh of relief would understate
the sound that moved through the crowd. It was like the wave at a
stadium, only with the crunch of snow under winter boots and
emphatic nods and sighs of relief instead of raised arms and
yelling.

“
All
right, then, white team, you ready?
”
Jeremy
’
s voice reached farther into the darkness around them,
but he stopped talking. He could feel his vocal cords getting
tired, and his throat was beginning to hurt from the effort. His
camp voice was not as strong anymore, because he rarely had reason
to use it at home. No one needed shouts loud enough to wake the
dead in a funeral home.

The white team began their cheer, a loud, four-part
call-and-response with clapping and a rather intricate rhythm
pounded out on their parka-covered chests. Gen snapped pictures,
focusing in on the kids in the front row and the adults yelling
from the back. Jeremy watched her and watched the cheering.

“
And
what color is the
snow
?
”
Glenn hollered from the back of the
group.

“
It
’
s
white
!
”
they yelled in unison, throwing tiny snowballs into the
air. After a beat of silence, they started clapping, and the blue
team applauded as well, showing all the right levels of
sportsmanship, a criteria on which both teams were
judged.

Jeremy brushed off his hat and tossed snow at Gen as
she moved to capture images of the blue team. She ducked and glared
at him.

“
I
’
ll get you for that.
”

“
Sure you will,
”
he said, laughing. Over her shoulder,
he saw Scott glance at him, that frown back on his face. It looked
like confusion divided by disapproval.

Then the blue team
began. They had props, including stethoscopes from the infirmary
and blankets in various shades of blue, and they mimed getting sick
from too much cold:
“
Blue skin? Oh, no. Blue lips? Oh, no, no. Blue
team? Oh,
yes
!
”

Gen snapped pictures for the entire performance, and
when they finished, she moved to stand beside him.

“
Dude. We are in such trouble.
”

He looked up at
her.
“
Why?
”

“
Were you not paying attention? Those cheers were
excellent.
”

“
Oh,
the judging.
”
He thought she
’
d noticed
Scott
’
s frowning.

“
Yeah. When everyone
’
s just about done,
let
’
s head to the dining hall early and make our
decision.
”

Jeremy nodded, pulling
his hat lower over his ears.
“
I
’
ll grab Scott when
everyone
’
s munching, and we
’
ll go convene in the
warmth.
”

In the end, not even the possibility of hot
marshmallows and chocolate on graham crackers was enough to entice
anyone to stay by the fire longer than needed. Just as Gen, Scott,
and Jeremy sat down at the end of a table to check the team
standings, which Jeremy kept compiled in his notebook and therefore
on his person at all times, both teams came through the doors,
licking marshmallow and chocolate off their fingers and moving to
the fireplace as fast as possible.

“
Well, then.
”
Scott had to raise his voice over the increased
noise in the room, and it looked like it hurt a little.
“
Let
’
s do the sign presentation, and I
’
ll make announcements
about packing up and bus arrival for tomorrow while you guys do
quick math.
”

“
I
have some stuff to present, too
—
so, Jeremy, can you
handle the total?
”

“
The
total? Totally,
”
he said, grinning widely.
“
What are you
presenting?
”

Before she left the
table, Jeremy tapped her arm.
“
Wait. Do you have
your phone?
”

“
Of
course, why?
”
It was her watch, her alarm, her schedule, and her
emergency camera, so she kept her phone with her even if it
didn
’
t work in camp as an actual telephone.

“
You
have a calculator.
”

“
You
don
’
t?
”
He didn
’
t answer, just held out his hand and waited. Gen shook
her head, handed her phone over, and then carried the team plaques,
covered in old tie-dyed sheets, over to the
fireplace.

Scott was finishing up
whatever announcements he
’
d decided to make, or
had made up on the spot, and turned to Gen.
“
Ready to show off the
team signs?
”

Jeremy checked his
work from earlier, adding the afternoon scores to the tally, but
before he could add the points for team cheers, the sound of
Gen
’
s voice stopped him. She
’
d asked the team
artists to come forward to present their team plaques, and there
were flashes from cameras and cheering and applause for each
one.

The dining hall was a long, rectangular building
with the kitchen on one end and the large fireplace at the other.
But since the beginning of Winter Camp, the dining hall and every
other room where Gen was present had seemed round, with her as the
axis around which everyone turned. She was the center of every room
for him, and he had a hard time looking away.

She was taking
pictures, smiling and laughing, arranging the teams behind their
signs for group pictures, teasing the adults who
didn
’
t smile. She looked so content, and the rhythm of the room
seemed to flow around her, the movement of people and voices
circling back while he watched, like she was the heart of
everything.