One Final Time

July 14^th, 1995

The early morning summer fog descended heavy upon the town as many converged on the local YMCA, buses ready to be filled with luggage and young campers, excited with the anticipation a week spent away at Camp Ravenspirit. The energy amongst the children and the teenage counselors was vibrant as they packed the belly of the bus with their belongings and boarded the cramped quarters for their journey northwards.

One young teenage boy stood slightly on the outskirts of the excitement, watching. This was his first year as a junior counselor and he watched as the older teen counselors moved expertly about, so used to how to make the morning run smoothly. He felt as awkward and out of place as he did his first year at his high school. Smaller than most boys his age, his brown eyes smoldered with the desire to hide his insecurity, buried himself within and trying nearly unsuccessfully to appear cooler than he felt he looked. None of his friends he had spent summers with as campers were going to be there this week, working as junior counselors. The busy hum of the chatter of those around him thronged around him, almost like a sort of music. On his back, hung his acoustic guitar in its case, something he had just taken up. He felt the gentle breeze blow back his shoulder-length black hair as he shivered with the thought of the oncoming responsibility of the two weeks to come.

If he had been less lost in his thoughts, as he always seemed to dwell too much, he would have paid more attention to his hectic surroundings and would have noticed a young teenage girl also standing a little on the outskirts. Her hair pulled back into a low pony-tail, her eyes wide with wonder watching all the goings-on and the chatter swirling about her. Her purple backpack slung on her shoulders with her suitcase, pillow, and sleeping bag at her feet awaiting her chance to pack it away and board the bus. She, too, shivered with nervousness and uncertainty of how to behave in this setting. This was her first year at Camp Crowshaven, too old to be a camper yet had been involved in student council and girls' scouts, the powers that be had allowed her to join this year as a junior counselor. This new world she was joining today seemed as foreign as if she had landed in another country or even more-so another planet.

Her name was Ruby and his name was Les. At this moment, they had yet to have their first time meeting each other, yet to know just how their lives would affect each others in the weeks, summers, and years to come.

The rumbling of the bus rolled through the early city morning, the streets empty of traffic. The teenagers and children on the bus paid no mind to the day that would unfold for those not traveling with them. The busyness of the workday, bills, and responsibilities was still a far cry from their youthful, seemingly carefree understandings.

All that Ruby could think of as she peered outside the bus window was how to start up a conversation with the cute boy sitting next to her. All Les could think about was how he liked to look at this girl sitting next to him, her soft delicate facial features and her thin, shapely body brought out the new sexual feelings he had been discovering these last few years. He cleared his throat, hoping for her response. She looked over at him, eyebrows raised.

“Um, hi,” he smirked back at her. “I'm Les.”

“Oh, uh, hi,” she said, slipping a loose strand of hair nervously behind her ear. “I'm Ruby.”

“First year?” he wanted to know.

“Yeah, you?” she responded.

“Um, as junior counselor, I was a camper before, you?” he answered.

“No, never been to camp,” she said matter of factually. “My parents thought it would be a good way for me to make friends, get out of my shell.”

She pulled the flannel shirt further down over her wrists, covering her hands. She looked back out the window at the city passing by like a montage of movie scenes and bit her lip anxiously. Les looked her over and finally said, awkwardly,

“You okay?”

She hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to say and then answered without looking from the window.

“Yeah, I'm fine,” was all she would give.

They rode in silence then, amidst the chatter of the other voices on the bus. There were a few other teenagers, junior counselors both male and female, some older and some their age, nearby. Les turned towards them.

“Hey,” he said to no one in particular. They turned at them. There was a girl with long bushy curly hair, a tallish average looking man with a belly sort of rotund and wavy short brown hair, a girl on the shorter side with short-cut blue hair, a tall angular and could be thought of as cute guy with long, soft brown hair with a Greek fisherman's hat on top, a heavy-set girl with shoulder-length brown hair, a sporty looking blond girl with penetrating blue eyes. They all looked him over.

“Hey yourself,” came the girl with the blue hair.

“I'm Les,” he managed to squeak out.

Blue hair grinned at him.

“Hey first year, I'm Howard,” she laughed. “Well, that's my camp name. This is (pointing to the girl with bushy curly hair) Tera, and this is (pointing to the rotund belly boy), Geoff, spelled like GE-OFF, This guy (nodding towards the boy with the fisherman's hat) Turbo, also camp name, That is (with a nod towards the heavy-set girl) Kate, and that pretty young thing (towards blue eyes) is also a first year and she calls herself, Jess.”

Jess, or Blue Eyes, looked over at him, her eyes smiling, “Got all that, Les.”

“Um, think so,” he laughed. “This is Ruby.” He said, nudging the girl sitting next to him. She turned and smiled shyly at them and quietly joined the conversation.

Howard smiled at her. “You also first year?”

Ruby nodded, quietly taking them all in.

Howard, obviously somewhat of the ringleader, grinned over at her.

“Don't worry we won't bite...well, not hard anyway.”

The rest of the teenagers laughed, including Les, and Ruby joined in quietly. For the first time, she found herself warming to those around her, felt a small sense of acceptance from each of them. No one here knew her past, knew what she was like at school, knew what she had done or what she had been through the year previous. She folded her arms and hugged herself tightly. Also, she tried hard to avert her eyes from Les' face, she couldn't really help noticing how cute he was increasingly becoming to her.

“Les that short for anything?” Geoff, the rotund belly boy, wanted to know. Les shook his head slightly and said nothing, pressing his lips together firmly with his jaw set. Geoff didn't seem to notice and went on, “Les? Leslie? Boys can be called Leslie? No, wait, I've got it, Lester. Its Lester, right?”

Les said nothing but could feel his face redden, not just from embarrassment but from the anger building inside. Would he never be free from this taunting, even here amongst these new friends?

“That's right, isn't it?” Geoff continued.

“Hey, hey, G,” Howard started to shush him. She looked over at Les. “You okay?”

Geoff finally noticed. “Hey,” he said, blushing. “Don't get mad, okay? I didn't mean anything by it.”

Les stared straight ahead, trying to calm himself the way his therapist had taught him. Geoff didn't stop.

“Look, man, don't get all...trippy, okay?”

Les counted to ten silently and slowly. Then, releasing his breath, he turned to Geoff,

“All right, its just that I hate that name, please don't call me that anymore.”

Everyone nodded in affirmation.

“So, what should we call you then? What do you prefer?” Jess wanted to know. Les realized how pretty she actually was and felt the growing attraction building inside of him.

“Les is fine,” he said.

“Les is more,” joked Geoff. “You know, I like 'Trippy'?”

“Trippy?”

“You know, when you were all upset, I said that,” Geoff explained, back-pedaling.

“Trippy?” Les repeated. “Really? Trippy?”

Howard confirmed, “Yeah, I don't know what's worse, Lester, please excuse, Les, or Trippy.”

“Well, then Trip,” Geoff finally apologized, albeit awkwardly and too late. “You know, for a camp name.”

“Trip,” Les let that name roll around in his head for a minute. Being a camper all these years, he'd always wondered how the counselors got their names and hoped someday to have a “name” and a “story” of his own.

“Yeah, no one will ever make the mistake of calling you Lest, I mean, the wrong name again,” Geoff brought out and grinned over at Les. Les looked him over and decided this Jacob kid wasn't so bad after all.   

Dreams