One Final Time

Arm in arm, Tera and Ruby skipped down the sidewalk, happily enjoying the cool fall sunlight. On the other side of town, Les and Jess walked side by side, not saying much but commenting on the various sights and sounds on the busy city street. A man in a blue sedan pulled out into the intersection just as an older woman with a walker started crossing the street, he stopped and rolled down the window, cussing at her to hurry it along. Les looked at that, with a scowl.

“Is there no decency left in this world?” he finally asked aloud.

Jess was silent for a moment and then said, “Yeah, there is, some.” She touched his chin with a light fist bump and he turned towards her.

“Hey there, you,” she said, smiling as he looked at her. “Cheer up, Trip.”

“I'm trying,” was all he could say.

“Well, maybe if we smoke a little something, that might help,” she offered.

“Really? You have something,” he wanted to know.

“Well, my friend, Mickey, does. He lives up the road from here,” she explained. “If he's home, he'll smoke us out, you in?”

Les nodded and he followed Jess up the block and into a large apartment building. They entered an old rickety elevator and heard the tinny canned music playing as the ascended to the 8^th floor. The doors slid open and Jess led Les down the hall to room 805. She knocked and they heard coughing from within.

The door opened to reveal a scruffy looking grunge kid, around 19 or so, wearing a long grey t-shirt and blue sweatpants, no shoes or socks on his feet but rather long toe nails. He looked Jess over, hungrily and lurched forward towards her. Les caught a whiff the familiar aroma of marijuana exhaling from the apartment.

Jess managed to fend this slovenly creature off with a quick hug and pushed herself past him, nodding to Les to follow, into the messy studio apartment. A doorway led to a bedroom, the room before them was small with a large screen TV, a VCR, and a blue couch with matching armchair. A coffee table sat in the middle of the room, which Les thought must have doubled as a dining room table with old editions of popular car magazines, a few girly magazines, empty bags and wrappers from McDonald's, and a large bong rested on the table. The kitchen behind them looked as if it could be a shrine, more pristine than the rest of the room, Les wondered if it was ever used.

“Hey, Mick, this is my buddy, Les,” Jess said, sitting in the arm chair. Les sat on the couch closest to her, Mick spread himself over the rest of the couch, one foot inches away from Les' leg and the other resting precariously close the bong on the coffee table. His legs wide open with the bagginess of the sweatpants left little to the imagination. Just who was he trying to impress? On top of all that, Mickey appeared, both to look at and to smell, as if he hadn't taken the time to shower in awhile. He belched loudly, then said,

“So, what can I do you for?”

As if he was some sort of person working in a shop and not some dirty stoner living in a crappy studio apartment. Jess answered,

“We were wondering if you had a little bud.”

“Yeah, in fact, I was just about to smoke myself,” he said, and sitting up (to the grateful Les) grabbed the bong. He pulled a bag of weed out of his sweatpants pockets (Les was again grateful for the fire aspect of the smoking) and began loading the bong. “So, how do you guys know each other?”

“Oh, we met at camp,” Jess began.

“Eh, camp?” Mickey said suspiciously, guarding his stash and clutching his bong to his chest.

“Um, yeah, summer camp, remember I told you about it,” Jess explained further. “Not to worry, just camp counselors, is all.”

“Oh, I see,” he shrugged and set the bong and lighter on the table nearest to Jess. “That's different then, care to start?”

She picked it up and lit, sucked in the smoke and the familiar chugging of the water sound filled the room. She handed it to Les once it was clear and he did the same, which led to a fit of coughing. Mickey laughed, rescuing the bong from him and belched again. Mickey had yellow crooked teeth and the smell of the burp filled the room alongside the pot smoke.

Mickey took a hit then set the bong on the table. He blew out the smoke, then leaned back.

“You guys are welcome to more,” he began. “You know I used to go to camp, when I was a kid.”

Les tried to imagine this slovenly hippie as a young impressionable summer camp kid and failed.

“Yeah,” Mickey continued. “Camp Crowshaven, you know, up north.”

“That's our camp,” was all Les could add.

“Really? Wow, small world,” Mickey mused. “Small world, indeed.”

He looked over at Jess and then at Les, taking them in wondrously.

“So, what's your guys story?”

“What do you mean?” Les wanted to know exactly what he meant.

“Are you guys, you know, together?”

“Um,” Les began.

“Yes,” Jess broke in quickly. “Yeah, we just got together.”

“Oh,” Mickey nodded. He leaned back against the couch and propped his legs the way he had in the beginning. Les moved closer to Jess and his side of the couch.

“Um, so what do you do, Mickey?” he tried to sound casual.

“Uh, you know, I'm a student,” Mickey explained. “At the JC.”

“Oh yeah,” Les was shocked.

“Yeah, day off today,” Mickey said. He turned towards the coffee-table, rummaged around with his foot until he discovered the remote control, grabbed it with his toes bringing it towards his body so he could grab it with his hand. “You guys want to watch something or...?”

“Actually, we should get going,” Jess explained, getting off. “My mom's going to be meeting me at the mall soon and...you know, my mom.”

“Yeah, don't I ever?” Mickey said, turning the TV on without looking at Jess.

“Well, thanks for smoking us out,” Jess said, and she motioned for Les to follow her towards the door.

“Anytime,” Mickey said, as the TV blared loudly. Les and Jess barely made it out the door and into the elevator before collapsing into a fit of stoney-mirth laughter.

“What the hell?” gasped Les.

“Sorry,” Jess said between laughing. “He's kind of an old friend of the family.”

“Oh I see,” was all Les could manage. The elevator came to the first floor, the doors slid open, and the quickly crossed through the lobby. Their slanted eyes blinked rapidly in the bright sunlight as they struggled to adjust. Suddenly Les was aware of how high he was.

“Wow,” he began. “That stuff is potent.”

Jess laughed, grabbed his arm, and they turned to head back to the mall. Just at that moment, skipping around the corner came Tera and Ruby, who slammed right into them. Tera fell to the pavement with a soft thud. Jess bent down to her.

“I'm so sorry, are you okay?” she said in her stoned slow speaking voice.

“Yeah,” Tera said, looking up at her and extending her hand for help up. Jess pulled her up and looked over at Tera as she dusted herself up.

“Tera?” Jess exclaimed.

Tera looked up at her and broke into a grin. Next to them Ruby and Les, who had caught her awkwardly in his arms as she ran into him, were surveying each other shyly. Jess looked over at them.

“Oh my god, you too!” She moved to hug Ruby.

“You remember me?” Ruby was shocked.

“Um, yeah you're Emerald, Diamond, Sapphire, Ruby, Jewels, right?” Jess said and she and Les collapsed into laughter. Ruby and Tera looked at each other, confusedly. “I'm so sorry, we are just so high right now.”

“Oh I see,” Tera said, barely hiding her disapproval. She was not into drugs of any sort. Ruby was more open to trying though. She shrugged it off and smiled at Jess, but her eyes dropped when she looked at Les.

“So, um, Ruby,” Les began and she looked at him, slowly.

“Yeah?”

“Um, how have you been?” he wanted to know.

“Good, um, better,” she admitted. She held her book against her chest. “I just bought this book actually. Pretty cool poems, thinking of adapting them into songs.”

“Oh yeah,” he said, impressed and not trying to hide it.

“Yeah, I just started taking guitar lessons,” she began. “My parents bought me one for my birthday.”

“Really? That's cool,” Les was even more impressed. “You should call me sometime, we can play.”

She nodded and found herself blushing.

“You still have my phone number, right?” Les wanted to know, anxiously. Ruby bit her lip, nervously.

“No,” she began at last. “I think I might have lost it.”

“Well,” he started. “You got a piece of paper, I can give it to you again.”

She thought for a moment, felt around in her pocket, and then opened the book to the first page, and offered it to him.

“You can write it here,” she said. He pulled a pen out of his back pocket and scrolled the number across it with the words “Les 'Trip' Daniels” above it. She looked at it and smiled at him. “I'll definitely give you a call, thanks.”

He smiled back at her.

Private Emotion

One Final Time

One Final Time

Across town, Les sat quietly and dejectedly in the food court of the local mall. Before him sat a Burger King meal which he stared at without eating it, playing with his french fries, nibbling here and there. He could not accurately describe how he felt, just this sense of emptiness within him. Looking up, he stared about him at the young families sitting nearby, toddlers in booster seats and other children crying and running about the restaurant tables. He sighed and turned back to his meal, feeling alone. He heard footsteps approaching.

“Trip, is that you?”

He looked up and saw Jess, his friend from summer camp, standing above him. He smiled up at her, relieved at the pleasant distraction. She was quite beautiful and stunning.

“Yeah, Jess,” he stood up in front of her. She was holding a tray with pizza and a soda on it. “You want to sit down?”

“Yes, please,” she said and they sat down across from each other.

“So how are you?” Les asked, looking her over lustily.

“I'm all right,” she began, sipping her coke. “Just looking for home-coming dresses, you know.”

“Oh,” was all he could manage and begin eating his burger.

“What about you?” She asked at last, picking up her slice of pizza and looking over at him.

He didn't know what to say, hesitated on being honest yet of all the friends he had in this world, that he gained in his short life, she was one of the few that he could be completely open.

“Um,” he began brokenly. “Not so good, actually.”

“Yeah?” she responded, eyebrows raised.

“Parents' so happily just told me they are separating,” he breathed out at last, never knowing how relieved he felt to finally speak his thoughts.

“Wow, sorry to hear that,” Jess said sympathetically. “My parents divorced when I was like three, then my mom got remarried to my step-dad when I was eight. So, I was just a kid when it all went down.”

“Yeah,” he began. “I guess they've been trying to work it out for years, maybe since I was born, but just think its best if they take this step, or something like that they said.”

Jess looked him over and he could feel her piercing blue eyes surveying him deeply. She could see the heaviness coming off of him and felt sympathy.

“So, what are you doing today?” she asked.

“Not sure,” he said. “Just trying to stay out of everyone's hair at home, I guess.”

“All right,” she smiled slowly. “Want to make a day of it?”

“You mean, you want to hang out with me?”

“Yeah,” she laughed. “Homecoming dresses can wait, that's boring anyway after awhile. Let's go downtown.”

He nodded up at her and they both turned towards their meals and quietly finished.   

Everyday I Write the Book

One Final Time

One Final Time

The second week of that first year passed and before she knew it Ruby and her campers were packing for the bus-ride home, wading across the river the other way, and carrying their packs up the hill. The bus heaved its door closed with the campers inside and pulled away from the camp entrance, rumbling down the highway back into the throes of the world beyond.

Ruby and Tera sat side by side, giggling and chatting about the weeks previous and the days, the school year yet to come. They promised not only to keep in touch but to see each other soon. A promise that would definitely become a reality in the winter months. The campers chatted excitedly about their experiences with one another, every once in awhile broke out in a campfire song, and laughed joyously all the while back to their city lives.

The junior counselors traded phone numbers and addresses, promising to keep in touch. When the bus reached its final destination and as the counselors helped the campers find their bags and locate their parents, Les spied Ruby awaiting an opportunity to speak with her. After the last child had departed, he watched her waiting, sitting on the curb of the sidewalk, watching for her parents' arrival. He approached her cautiously.

“Eh, Ruby?”

“Yeah?” She turned and noticing it was him found herself blushing a deep red. She let her hair fall in front of her face.

“I didn't get to give you my phone number,” he finally said. He pulled out a piece of paper, folded up and handed it to her. She took it slowly and held it for a moment in mid-air before bringing it down to her jeans pocket. “Please call me, we should hang out sometime.”

“Yeah,” she managed. “Yeah, that'll be fun.”

“We could keep up the guitar lessons, you know,” Les continued. He was waiting and hoping that she would return the favor and give him her number. She stared at him, willing herself to say something, searching through her mind to find something cool and flirtatious to leave him with, but then the silence was broken by the honk of a horn. Turning, she saw her mom drive up in her Mercedes Benz. Ruby stood up and looked over at Les.

“Um, looks like you are the last person here,” she finally said.

“Yeah,” he said, looking at his feet.

“Um, I'll call you, I will,” she said. Then, she leaned in and gave him a quick hug. Before he could really respond, she pulled back and ran off towards the car, her backpack and sleeping bag dangling on her legs. She climbed into the front seat of her car, tossing her stuff in the backseat. As the car pulled away, Ruby turned and waved at Les and as the car moved down the street, she could not remove her eyes from his.

During the school year, Ruby found herself busy with band practice, student council, and yearbook. For Christmas, her parents' bought her a guitar and she started private lessons, in both guitar and singing. The scars, both emotionally and physically, began to heal. She started seeing her school therapist and the medications her doctor had given her seemed to be working. Her grades improved and life seemed to be getting better.

Still there seemed to be an ache ever present on her heart, a longing as if something was not quite right or as if something was missing. In short, she missed camp for it was the only place she felt like she could truly be herself, with people who accepted her as she was, not knowing her past but only her future. She never had to be anything but herself with these friends, they loved her no matter what. She giggled to herself about all the jokes they'd made during those summers, unaware of the awkward stares she got from her classmates.

Most notably, she could not get her mind off of Les, with whom she missed the most. She'd stare at the folded paper open before her with his number on it, willing herself to reach for her phone and dial the numbers, but always she'd chicken out. Once she did manage to call, but hung up when his mom answered. She wrote long winding love poems about her unrequited love for him and how they were meant to be together. She told as much to Tera on the phone and when they stayed at each others houses.

One Saturday she met Tera in the local county seat. They walked through the bustling city streets, stopping at a upcoming coffee shop called Starbucks and then making their way through the different shops, sipping their drinks. Both with a love of books, they lost themselves for hours in a small neighborhood bookstore.

In the back of the store, was a rack of old poetry books. Somewhat without thinking, Ruby picked up a book with poems by Rod McKuen. The cover intrigued her and the title spoke to her, “Listen to the Warm.” She sat on the floor of the shop and leaned against the wall, setting her coffee by her. She let the pages open before her and casually flipped through them before her eyes fell upon the poem entitled “Song Without Words.” Silently with her lips moving, she read through the poem, twice no three times, reveling in the power of the words. As she read, she could feel a soft beat and melody flowing through her from the book.

“This could be a song,” she said out loud, surprising herself. Tera popped her head around the corner.

“What was that?” she asked, coming over and sitting beside Ruby, almost spilling her coffee. “Sorry.”

“That's okay,” said Ruby. She held up the book to Tera and said, “I have to get this.”

“What is it?” Tera wanted to know.

“I just randomly found this,” she said, matter of factually. “I've never even heard of Rod McKuen but I really love his poems.”

“Well, show me some,” Tera wanted to know.

“Okay,” Ruby said, flipping through the pages. “Here's one...The World I Used to Know....Someday some old familiar rain will come along and know my name. And then my shelter will be gone and I'll have to move along. But till I do I'll stay awhile and track the hidden country of your smile. Someday the man I used to be will come along and call on me. And then because I'm just a man you'll find my feet are made of sand. But till that time I'll tell you lies and chart the hidden boundaries of your eyes. Someday the world I used to know will come along and bid me go. Then I'll be leavin' you behind for love is just a state of mind. But till that day I'll be your man and love away your troubles if I can.”

“Nice,” Tera said, smiling at her. “You should totally get it.”

Ruby flipped to the opening cover and looked at the price, which read $9.00.

“I think I have just that,” she smiled, happily. They got up and moved, coffees in hand, to the front of the store. The shop owner was an older man, with sagging eye lids and pants to match, barely held up by his belt. He slumped over slightly and shuffled his feet while he walked. His hair was a la Albert Einstein and white hairs sprung out of his nostrils. He smiled at them over his half-moon glasses and took the money from Ruby.

“Enjoy that,” said the shopkeeper. “A definite classic, or should be. I've loved McKuen for years, hope you do too.”

“Thanks,” Ruby said. “We'll be back.”

Tera grabbed Ruby's hand and they hurried off into the street, laughing and chatting happily.

Song Without Words

One Final Time

One Final Time

The outside scenery flooding by the bus seemed to pass quickly from the early city morning to the rural landscape making way towards the summer camp. Once arrived at the camp destination, the bus parked itself on a rural road, releasing the students and junior counselors to begin the long trek down the hill to the river, where canoes awaited to take them and their possessions the place that would be their home for a week, for a life-time.

Les, or Trip, swung his guitar over his shoulder as he grabbed the rest of his belongings from the belly of the bus. He turned to see Ruby, waiting behind him.

“Which one is yours?” he asked, hoping to once again find away to know her better. She pointed silently towards an orange sleeping bag with a pillow tied to it and a large green knapsack. As she did, he thought he saw some peculiar-looking vertical lines (or scars) running up her wrist. Noticing, she quickly pulled her arm back and pulled the flannel shirt, she was still wearing even though it had to be in the high nineties at the least, down over her hand. He said nothing as he bent over and grabbed the bags, setting his own down as he did so, and handed them over to her. She nodded at him and made her way towards the line of other campers and counselors streaming down the hill.

The river flowed gently as the young approached, setting their packs down momentarily in order to thus remove their shoes to cross. Bags placed in canoes and the younger campers too, the counselors worked together to pull them across to the shore, the entrance leading to the camp. The water was cold as it rose to just above their ankles, a healing energy unknown to Ruby as she made her way across, stepping gingerly even with the added weight of her canoe in order to not hit a stone or turtle, and felt the mud squish between her toes. For the first time in a very long time, she felt what it must be like to be truly alive...and the beginnings of foreign feeling of happiness began to spread throughout her body.

The sand and stones on the beach mixed with the mud on her feet as she stepped ashore and pulled the boat on land. She helped the campers (how cute they were) to gather their items, found her shoes and her own items, and followed the crowd to the entrance of camp, then to the tree-lined center of camp where everyone gathered to meet and greet and find out which cabins they were placed in.

The wind rustled softly through the arena as the head counselors loudly announced the list of campers' names and the children filed downwards to meet them, the junior counselors' joining in the throng. The other counselors and older junior counselors cheered loudly with each announcement. Once the cabin-mates had met and been announced, they made their way back to their place in the audience, which would be their place at all camp meetings, the head counselor on one side, the junior on the other.

As the remaining campers found their places, the rest of the camp, bags and sleeping bags in tow, made their way up the hill to their respective cabins, their homes for the week long adventure before them. What was to come lay before them unknown as they began to make themselves comfortable in their new surroundings. The counselor joking with her teenager counterpart, the campers shyly greeting one another and sharing stories.

In that first meeting time, sitting around each other in a circle, Ruby's head counselor, Breeze, gently laid down the cabin rules and the laws of camp. Ruby watched as Breeze joked and communicated easily with the children, feeling a pang on her wrists bringing out that familiar desire to cut. Once again she pulled down the grey flannel she was still wearing over her scars. Packed away in her suitcase, her mother had given her several coverings for the slice-scars, large bracelets, armbands for swimming or “strength-training”, anything for a good cover story, better to not show the truth of one's misery.

The days would pass peacefully for Ruby and the kids, filled with archery lessons, jewelry making activities, swimming, hiking, and the nightly shows of campfire. All the junior counselors had their daily meetings with their Junior Counselor Leader, Seuss, who allowed them space to be the kids they still were and taught them the life lessons needed for childcare. All the teenagers looked up to her and to the other senior counselors in their twenties, whose lives seemed full of sophistication and allure. They longed for the freedom these older friends had, not under the watchful eye and suspicious supervision of their parents' and guardians. Little did they know, these senior counselors whose lives they envied were in fact in some ways envying them their youth, longing themselves for the more carefree days of their teenage years.

Ruby found a close connection with the curly haired girl, Tera, and they grew to have a fast connection. It was to her that Ruby confided her growing affection for Les, who was now mostly known as Trip, around camp. Ruby and Tera had not yet found their “camp names”. For his part, Trip (Les) seemed to be an average teenage boy, an interest not just in one particular girl but in many in the quest to satisfy his desires. He did give Ruby some attention though, of which moments she lived for, repeating often in her mind and heart.

One such moment stood out among the rest. It was late afternoon their first week at camp coming to an end, Ruby was sitting alone in the designated junior counselor private area, a solitary table amongst the leafy trees and shrubbery set apart from the rest of the camp. Before her was a notebook opened, she listened to the delightful sound of the children playing in the water as it lapped against the shore. Peace filled her heart, a feeling so familiar to her in this place and yet unknown in her life back home. Every moment or so, she'd pick up her pen and write a few thoughts before then staring back into space, a contented smile on her face.

Quietly behind her, Trip entered, carrying his guitar cradled in his arms, the strap around his neck. She turned and looked at him, seeking to hide her blush letting her hair fall in front of her face.

“Mind if I join you?” he stammered out. She nodded and turned to her journal, trying to avert her gaze from him and trying desperately to think of something to say to him that would be cool and flirtatious, as she had seen the other girls' do so effortlessly. He sat on the opposite side of the table from her and faced the river. Quietly, he began strumming the guitar. “I'm sorry, do you mind?”

She shook her head and managed, “How long have you played?”

“Not long,” he began. “Basically this summer. I had a girl-friend back home for awhile that played, when she broke up with me, I just kind of kept up at it, don't know why, really, just something to pass the time.”

She nodded and looked back down at her journal, not knowing what to write, but waiting for him to say more.

“What's in the notebook?” he asked, turning slightly to her and letting his hands fall away from the strings.

“Oh, just..it's nothing, just my thoughts,” she said, ashamed and looking away.

“I'm very interested in that,” he said and she turned to see him smiling at her. “Can I see?”

She hesitated and said, “I don't know.”

“Its okay,” he said. “Its none of my business.”

He began playing again and she watched him, shyly, out of the corner of her eye. Noticing, he turned back to her.

“Ever played?” He asked. She shook her head.

“Never even held one,” She explained. “Played piano when I was a kid.”

“I can teach you, if you'd like,” he offered and Ruby's heart soared to heights it never thought possible. She nodded and he motioned for her to join him on his side of the table. She came around, leaving her notebook open and sat beside him with a gasp. He removed the guitar strap from his neck and placed the guitar in her arms. Then, he placed her hands in the appropriate places on the instrument. “It may hurt your finger tips the first couple times, until you build up the callouses.”

She looked at him and he laughed. She smiled back.

“This is c,” he said, placing her fingers on her left hand on the appropriate strings. “Then you strum with your right.”

Doing so, she awkwardly heard the music flowing outward. He showed her the other notes, g, f, a, b, and she played each, reveling in the time spent together. A harsh breeze suddenly kicked up, shattering the moment because the pages of her notebook ruffled in the wind. She turned and watched as a loose slip of paper blew out and fluttered by their faces to quick to grab. Momentarily it fell on the ground and Toast reached down quickly snatching it up before it would travel farther on.

For a moment, he caught sight of the words scribbled on the page, full of pain and loneliness and he suddenly suspected why she always wore the armbands. She got up to retrieve the paper from him, still holding the guitar, which was the only thing between them as they faced each other. His eyes searching hers, as if to ask why. Then, he handed her the slip of paper and she, too, saw what she had written.

“I cannot stand my life anymore,” they began. “I do not want to live. I will end this.”

She averted her eyes, folding the paper, and sticking it deep within her pocket to hide the evidence. She began to remove the guitar strap from her neck to give him back his instrument but he grabbed her right hand and pulled it towards him. Slowly, wordlessly, he let his finger run up towards her armband. She shivered with his touch, not just with pleasure but from the shame. He pulled down the band and saw, the sewn up scars of the slices. He looked up and their eyes met, hers filling with shameful tears and his with pained wonder. She pulled her arm away quickly, handed him the guitar, and pulled her armband back in place.

“Don't tell,” she said in a pained whisper. “Don't tell...anyone.”

He took the guitar and looked her over.

“It's okay, they won't care,” he said, trying to reassure.

“Exactly,” was all she could say and moved to collect her journal, starting to leave.

“I won't,” he said, his words stopping her. “I won't tell.”

She turned and looked at him, before ascending towards the main camp.

“Your secret is safe with me,” he said, breathing out. “Always.”

Everybody Hurts

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

What I Did For Love

Fall Back

The ironic thing about this time of year, when we fall back in our time, is this last week I've fallen back, rather fallen back down memory lane into the pathways of old loves long lost.

As I processed this past relationship and looked at my current life, I recalled to mind my favorite Disney movie ever, Aladdin.  The favorite mainly because of Robin Williams' character but in fact there's more reasons why.

At fourteen, listening to the title song, "A Whole New World", I wanted my own Aladdin, to come into my life, sweep me off my feet, and show me the world.  I guess a part of me was hoping for that this week.

However, now in my more grown-up perspective, I see that I don't need a man to "show me the world".  Why? Because I can do that myself.  I'm quite capable of 'seeing the world', thank you very much, Al.

A Whole New World