Watermelon Days and Firefly Nights: Heartwarming Scenes from Small Town Life (10 page)

T
RUTH WAS
,
from the first time he’d heard about it, Trey had wanted to come to camp. All the other kids at his church got to go to camp. He was twelve now. Wasn’t that how old you had to be?

When Ralph, Trey’s twenty-eight-year-old youth director, heard how much Trey wanted to go to camp, he saw no reason why Trey should have to stay home. Sure, he would need a little extra help, but that was no big deal.
After discussing the idea with Trey’s mother, Ralph
decided that this year Trey would get to go to camp—and he would go too. They would stay in the same cabin and be bunkmates and buddies, and when Trey needed help, he would give it. When he didn’t, he wouldn’t. They would both be just two of the guys.

Right.

J
OSH AND
K
EVIN
and the rest of the boys stood looking at their feet.

Finally, Pancho punched Carl in the arm. “Whatsa matter, guys? Be polite. Introduce yourselves.”

“Okay. I’m Carl.”

“I’m Rudy.”

“Hey. I’m Lindon.”

“James.”

“Max.”

“Josh.”

“Kevin.” Kevin shook Trey’s hand. No one else moved.

Pancho ended the awkward moment and got things moving. “Men, we’ve got an hour before dinner. Then
we’ll have worship with the rest of the camp, and after
that, it’s Roadrunner silly song time. Now’d be a good time to take a hike around camp. Everybody ready?”

The boys waited on the porch of the cabin, still not saying much, while Lindon went inside to change his shoes.

It was James, chewing on a blade of grass, who saw Maggie first. She was trotting her way toward the cabin.

“Whose dog?” he asked.

“Dog?” said Lindon.

“Here, girl,” called Max.

Maggie came over. She sniffed the feet of each boy in turn.

“Does she bite?” asked Ralph.

“Naw. I don’t think so,” said Pancho. “She hasn’t yet.”

“Where’d she come from?”

“She’s the official camp dog, aren’t you, girl,” said Pancho, scratching Maggie’s ears.

No one knew where Maggie had come from. A pooch of indeterminable heritage, Maggie had wandered up before the start of camp and had made herself right at home. The staff, there for a week of training before the arrival of the first set of summer campers, fed her, petted her, and fixed a dry place for her to sleep under the roof of the facility’s open-air pavilion.

The camp director liked Maggie and believed that having a dog around would help discourage snakes. The campers would enjoy her too. As soon as it was clear that no one was going to claim her and that she had decided to stay around, the director coaxed her into the cab of his pickup truck and drove her into town to the vet so she could get her shots. Once she was pronounced fit, he brought her back to camp, and there she seemed content to stay. And no wonder. Camp Road Runner occupied a good forty acres. With squirrels to chase, a creek to drink from, and a hundred kids around all the time, Camp Road Runner was about as close to heaven as
a dog could get. And since she was such a well-behaved dog, there was no problem allowing Maggie the run of the place.

Once she’d made the rounds of all the boys in Pancho’s cabin, and made herself acquainted with each of their smells, she walked over to Trey and sat down at his feet. Trey dropped to one knee. “Hi there. You sure are a pretty dog.” He petted her head and then ran his hands along her back. Maggie lay down, then rolled over so he could rub her tummy.

“Trey, I believe you’ve made yourself a friend,” said Pancho. “Everybody ready now? Let’s go.”

T
HAT NIGHT
at the staff meeting, Trey was discussed.

“Pancho, how are the other campers in your cabin treating him?” the director asked.

“Okay, I guess. They aren’t making fun of him or anything.”

“Guess that’s about as good as we can hope for. I want Trey to have a good time, but I also don’t want him to slow your other boys down. They deserve to get what they came for. If you have any problems, let me know.”

The next morning, when Pancho’s boys stepped out of their cabin, they found Maggie asleep on the porch. She had been there all night. “Hi, girl. Whatcha doing?” She raised her head and let all the boys pet her, even licked Kevin’s and Josh’s hands, but it was Trey that she fell in behind when the boys trooped to the flag pole for the morning devotional.

It was also Trey whom Maggie waited for outside the dining hall, and Trey whom she sat beside while he painted a wooden birdhouse during craft time.

“Maggie sure likes you,” said Max.

“I like her too,” said Trey. The sound of Trey’s voice made Maggie raise her head.

“Dog’s crazy about Trey,” observed Pancho.

“I know it,” said Ralph.

“Does he have a dog at home?”

“Nope. His mom’s allergic.”

That night while Pancho was at his staff meeting, the boys heard Maggie whining at the screen door of the cabin. “Can we let her in?” they asked Ralph.

“I don’t see what it would hurt. Go ahead,” said Ralph.

Lindon got up and opened the door. Maggie scooted in, sniffed around just a bit, and then hopped right up onto Trey’s bed. Trey was already asleep. Maggie didn’t disturb him but gingerly curled up around his feet, put her head on her paws, and let out a contented sigh.

“She sure likes Trey,” said Lindon, who wished that Maggie had wanted to sleep on his bed.

“She likes our cabin best,” said Josh.

“Yeah. But she likes Trey best of all of us.”

“He’s her favorite.”

And he was. Maggie followed Trey around like a . . . well, like a dog. When he spoke, she perked up her ears and listened to his every word. When he pet her, she quivered with pleasure. And when he called her to come into the lake for a swim she plunged right in, though she hated getting her feet wet. Of course, it was next to Trey that she stood and shook herself dry once they got out of the lake.

Trey didn’t mind.

Maggie’s affection made camp easier for Trey. The kids were treating him all right, but it was nice that when he fell behind on a hike, she slowed down too. He didn’t feel as bad when he was puzzled by one of Josh’s jokes, because she didn’t look like she understood either. It was great that when he wanted to dig and make roads in the dirt instead of playing basketball, she kept him company in the shade. And when Trey fell asleep during the group Bible study, Maggie nodded off too.

Maggie also made Trey’s stay at camp easier for Pancho. The two were such good buddies that Pancho didn’t have to worry about Trey feeling left out. While the guys in the cabin didn’t treat Trey bad or anything, they didn’t try very hard to include him in stuff either.

O
N THE AFTERNOON
of the fifth day of the ten-day session, Doc, the camp’s horse wrangler, unwisely decided to lead Pancho and his boys on a new trail. “You fellows up to it?” Doc asked. “The horses aren’t as used to it as the other trail. Some of ’em might balk a bit. You’ll have to make ’em mind if they start to head back to the corral and the barn before it’s time.”

Well, of course they were up to it, though they were all, except for Carl, who lived on a cattle ranch, at least a little bit afraid of the group of aged, gentle camp steeds. They wouldn’t have admitted to that for anything, though.

“Ready?” Doc asked. “Everybody got their reins? Got your feet in the stirrups? All right. Fall in line.”

So they did. First Doc, then Carl, Max, Lindon, and James, then Rudy, Kevin, and Josh. Trey and Ralph, riding double, brought up the rear. Maggie, of course, trotted at Trey’s horse’s heels.

The trail didn’t appear to be anything special. No big rocks in the way. No fallen trees to jump over. Not even a creek to cross. What was the big deal?

Not much, except that the horses, cranky in the face of change, trudged along with their ears back, pausing every few yards to snatch mouthfuls of tall growing weeds. This made for slow going with lots of stops and starts.

“Pull on the reins, fellas,” called Doc from up ahead. “And give ’em just a little kick. That’s it. They’ll go if you show ’em who’s boss.”

After Doc gave his instructions, Ralph and Trey’s horse—the gentlest, slowest of the bunch—suddenly took to stomping, kicking, and carrying on.

“Whoa!” Trey yelled, holding on to Ralph with both hands. “Whoa!”

“Ralph, pull back on the reins!” hollered Doc from up ahead. “Pull back on the reins!”

It could have been that Trey’s heel, in spite of Doc’s careful instructions, had landed too far back into his horse’s ticklish flanks. Or maybe the horse got stung by a bee or a horsefly. Regardless of whatever caused the horse to pitch such a fit, Ralph could not get control. Trey tumbled right off the horse and into the weeds.

“Trey, are you all right?” Doc was there in an instant, kneeling over him.

“Trey, are you hurt?” Ralph too was off the horse.

Though he was shook up, Trey was fine. He had been wearing a helmet when he fell. His hands were bloodied and skinned from breaking his fall, but other than that, he wasn’t hurt.

“You sure you’re okay, buddy?” asked Ralph.

“Can you sit up?” asked Doc. To the other boys, he called, “He’s all right. You guys stay on your horses. It’s okay to let ’em eat, but don’t get off the trail.”

Trey wiped his nose on the tail of his shirt. “I don’t think I want to ride any more.”

“No problem.” Ralph gave him a hug. “You and me’ll walk down. We’ll just lead our horse. That be okay?”

“Uh-huh. Where’s Maggie?”

“I dunno,” said Doc. “She’s here somewhere. Probably off chasing a squirrel or something. Maaaggie, Maaaggie, here girl!”

She didn’t come.

Doc called her again. Ralph too.

Still no Maggie.

“Hold on a second.” Pancho spotted fur in a low spot off to the side of the trail. “I think I see her. Looks like she’s hurt.”

Doc and Ralph helped Trey to his feet. When the three of them got to where the dog was, they couldn’t believe it. Maggie lay very, very still.

Ralph held Trey back. Doc bent to check. “Guys, I can’t believe it, but she’s dead.”

“How? What happened?”

“I don’t know. Best I can guess, horse must’ve kicked her in the head.”