“Attention, Critter Crawl participants, attention,” Ian yells, sounding like an announcer in a boxing ring. “The first critter to make it out of the ring will win eternal glory!”

The campers roar and jump up and down, hollering.

“You’re going down,” Matt tells a girl carrying a plastic cup, her hand covering the top so her butterfly won’t get free.

She makes a face at Matt. “I beat you so bad last year, King.”

Ian says, “Team Sparrow’s lizard and Team Dogwood’s cockroach, please come forward.”

“The cockroach’s name is Harry!” a kid says.

“You let your kids capture a cockroach?” Andrea blurts at Eric, who shrugs and keeps on whittling a stick.

Ian goes on, “There’s been a last minute change to the Critter Crawl roster. The lizard and Harry have been disqualified.”

“What?” yells a boy. “You’ve got to be kidding me!”

“Noooooo,” another boy screams, raising fists in the air.

“On what grounds are they disqualified?” Megan asks, rushing forward to inspect the critters in their glass jars.

I bite down on my thumb, trying not to laugh. These kids are acting like it’s Armageddon. I walk over to Parker. She runs a hand through her plaited hair, staring at the ground.

“You all right?” I ask.

“Fine. If I didn’t need the money so bad, I’d be so out of here…” she mutters.

“Never fear!” Ian calls out to the hundred campers surrounding the circle. “We have two new contestants!”

“A snake?” a boy asks, causing all the girls to start screaming and running around. Megan looks like she might murder Ian.

“It’s even better than a snake,” Ian replies. Will and Ian bump fists, and Ian comes running at me. He throws me over his shoulder and runs around in front of the campers. Will does the same thing to Parker.

“It’s Critter Kate!” Ian shouts.

I pound on Ian’s back, yelling, “Put me down! Maattttt!”

When Ian swings me around, I find Matt cracking up, and even Megan and Eric are laughing.

“I’m so breaking up with you,” an upside-down Parker says to Will.

“I feel like I’m on a ride at the fair,” I say, woozy. “I might throw up.”

“Gah!” Ian says, plopping me down in the center of the ring.

Parker slaps Will when he lets her down, and then she goes and slaps Ian, and then she slaps Matt, I guess for good measure.

Ian claps his hands together. “It’s Critter Crawl time. Let’s get ready to rumble!”

The sun begins to set as the campers cheer for their critters. I catch my breath, sitting off to the side with Parker, watching Matt root for his team’s beetle, feeling a bit of heaven inside me.

After the race is over (Harry the cockroach lost to Team Bluebird’s granddaddy longlegs), I walk with Ian to let the critters go free. He has four glass jars in his hands.

“That was nice of you to take the attention off Parker,” I tell him, as I release the lizard back into the woods. He scurries away.

Ian squats and places the jars at his feet. “Megan needs to get laid. She’s so crotchety.”

“Carlie said the same thing,” I say.

“Sometimes I think she and I share the same brain,” Ian replies with a small grin, which quickly disappears.

“What’s wrong?”

“Are you and Matt going out now?” he asks. He opens a glass jar and coaxes the beetle out.

“Not yet,” I say quietly.

“But you want to be, right?”

“Yeah.”

He screws the lid back on the jar. Stares at it. “Maybe seeing you with Matt will make Carlie want to try it with me.”

“You guys aren’t dating?”

“Not officially.”

“But you guys, um, are like, behind the cafeteria all the time.”

“You know about that, huh?”

“Everybody knows about that.”

He pauses, his eyebrows pinching together. I squat down next to him.

“So Carlie doesn’t want to date?” I ask.

Ian releases a granddaddy longlegs, thinking. “We went to the same high school and church, but different colleges. I hadn’t seen her in over a year until we got jobs here last summer…” He glances at me. “I’ve always liked her.”

“Go on,” I reply.

“Last summer I told her I wanted a relationship, but she didn’t want that with anybody, you know, right in the middle of college and all. I guess she doesn’t want to get tied down. I was hoping she might want to try for real this summer…but—”

“But?”

He looks up at my face. “I’m not going to pressure her. I’d rather it just happen naturally if it’s going to.”

“Um, why are you sleeping with her if it’s not serious?”

He laughs a little, seeming even sadder. “I just can’t help it.”

“I just don’t get that.”

“You and me both.” He stands, wipes off his hands, and grabs the jars, motioning toward the cafeteria. “Dinner?”

“Yeah.”

We walk together back up the hill. “Thanks for listening,” he says quietly. “I’ve been praying about it…but sometimes it’s good to say it out loud.”

I nod slowly. If I said what I helped Emily to do out loud, would it change things? Make me feel better?

I don’t see how it could.

sketch #361

what happened last night

The campers are showering and getting ready for the dance, so I grab my portfolio and a pencil.

Last night, Eric made me start the fire and get the hobo packs going all by myself. He basically ignored me while he played with fishing lures. I had no Crisco and no starter log and no hope.

I sketch the patch of kindling I stuffed under the logs. Bits of hay and grass.

I used a match to get it going. My flame went out three times, but I kept trying and finally, on the fourth try, the kindling got hot enough to catch a few sticks on fire. From there, the logs didn’t have a chance.

“Nice,” Eric said to me, smiling, and went back to his tackle box. I grinned to myself and told each camper to tear off a piece of aluminum foil.

“Wrap it like a burrito!” I told them.

I smile to myself as I draw the scene: a fire blazing next to a bunch of campers stuffing their faces.

It’s nearly time for the Thursday Night Dance. I hide my sketchbook under my pillow and use the rest of my time to pray, to say thanks for helping me start my fire.

nothing’s set in stone

saturday, june 16 ~ week 3 of 7

I’m making cheese and crackers when Daddy comes into the kitchen and tells me to meet him in his study to discuss college courses.

I carry my snack down the hall and step over Fritz, who’s napping in the entryway, and take a seat in a stiff armchair. Mom redecorated this room in January, so the cushion isn’t worn-in yet. Not like Daddy’s chair. I swear, the thing must be from 1965. Mom hates it. It’s orange, has multiple ink and coffee stains, and a big rip runs down the back of the upholstery. But she lets him keep it ’cause she loves him.

Pictures of me, Mom, Fritz, and Daddy’s hunting escapades fill the bookshelves and walls. Every other space is filled by dusty plants and gigantic law texts.

Daddy steps over the dog, carrying the Belmont registration booklet and an ice cream sundae covered with chocolate syrup, chocolate chips, peanuts, and cherries.

“You know you’re not supposed to eat that,” I warn.

“I know,” he says, smiling as he flops down in his orange chair. “But you only live once.” He crosses his leg and jiggles his loafer. “So which classes have you picked out?”

I pull a deep breath. “None. I have no idea what to do.”

“What about the pre-law track we talked about?”

“It just sounds…boring to me.”

He scoops some ice cream into his mouth. “Is that your way of saying you think I’m boring?”

I laugh. “No, no. I’m just not sure what I want to study.”

“That’s fine. You’ve got time.”

“Aren’t I supposed to pick out a major before I start school?” I bite into my cheese.

“Kate,” he starts. He stops to take another bite of ice cream. I give him a look and mutter “blood pressure” before he speaks again. “You don’t have to know right now. You can change your mind about what you want to do two years into college. Or after college. You could go back and study something else if you wanted to.”

I tap my sandals on the floor. “I love art, but I’m not sure I want to do it as a career. It’s just something for me.”

Daddy nods. “Why don’t we pick out a bunch of random classes and talk again after next semester?”

“Isn’t that a waste of your money?”

“Learning is never a bad thing. And neither is changing your mind about things…It’s always good to reevaluate. To think and consider all sides.”

I bite into a cracker and stare out the window. I don’t like that Matt’s in a frat. I don’t like how Emily’s been treating me. I don’t see how I could ever change my mind about those things. But at the same time, I love everything else about Matt. I love that he wants to run a marathon barefoot and I love that he can’t seem to get enough ranch dressing. I like how he touches my jaw and stares deep into my eyes, like I’m the only girl he’s ever seen.

He drinks beer and I know he wouldn’t mind sharing a bed with me.

But this week, when I asked him if he believes in God, he said, “What a silly question. Just look at that.” He turned me to face the sun setting above the rolling hills beyond camp.

If I were to ditch Matt and wait for a guy who’s 100 percent devout, I might end up with a guy who doesn’t stare at me like I’m the only girl he’s ever seen.

But living with an ugly orange chair is a lot different than putting up with a fraternity.

“Can we wait to register for classes?” I ask. “I need more time.”

Daddy smiles. “Let’s hold off for another week or two, okay?”

“Okay,” I say quietly.

“Can I ask you something?” he says, and I nod. “Can you tell me what happened with Emily? Why you’ve been so out of it?”

Care fills his voice. I don’t want to lie to him. “We had an argument about church and God.”

He raises his eyebrows. Takes another bite of ice cream. “And?”

“She doesn’t believe in God anymore.”

“And you do.”

“Of course, don’t you?”

Daddy leans onto his armrest, propping his jaw up with a fist. “It doesn’t matter what I believe. What matters is what you believe.”

“I believe in God. He loves us.”

“And Emily doesn’t believe that anymore…but she’s still your friend.”

I slowly shrug and stare down at the plate in my lap.