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Trixie Belden sat on her dorm bed, rebelliously staring at her Algebra book. Spring finals were about a month away, signaling the end of her first year of college. She stared across the room at one of her roommates; who also happened to be her best friend, Honey Wheeler.
“Ugh!” Trixie groaned. “If there’s anything in the world I hate more in the world than homework, it’s math homework.” She smacked her book with a heartfelt thump.
“Oh come on Trix,” laughed Honey. “You’ll survive this, just like you survived math in high school. After all, you’ve become much better about doing your homework on time, instead of—um—shall we say, at the last second. Now come on, tell me what’s really bothering you.”
“You know me too well Hon.” Trixie let out a small sigh and plunged in. “I’ve been thinking about what we’re going to do this summer.”
“Heavens Trix,” Honey interrupted. “You mean that’s what you’ve been stewing about? I thought it was something important! You know, like our classes, or maybe my brother…” she added with a wicked grin.
“Oh pish-tosh. That brother of yours has been so wrapped up in applying for graduate school, and a summer internship, and, and—ooh don’t get me started.” Trixie gave her Algebra book another thump for good measure. “Don’t you see—Jim will be busy, you already told me Brian has work lined up volunteering at the clinic, and Mart and Dan have summer jobs all ready. And what do we have planned? Nothing.”
“We-l-l, I thought it might be nice to just relax.” Honey paused for a moment to reflect and then added, “We don’t seem to do that often do we?”
“Hmm, that’s true. But you know darn good and well that we’ll be bored in no time. Especially without the boys around.”
“You mean—with no mysteries around, don’t you?” Honey smiled at her. “It’s been how long since the last one? Since last year in high school?”
“Yeah, we’ve hit a bit of a dry spell haven’t we?” Trixie grinned ruefully. “I can just hear Mart now.”
The half-open door to their room sprung wide and Diana Lynch practically flew in. “Did you just talk to Mart? Is he on the phone?”
Trixie rolled her eyes. “And you think I moon over Jim! At least I don’t come unglued at the mere mention of his name.”
“I do not come unglued,” responded Diana loftily. “I am merely expressing my frustration at our prolonged separation.”
Trixie rolled her eyes again. “Oh yeah—she has spent way too much time around my brother. Don’t you agree Honey?”
“Let’s see, do I agree with Trixie and upset Diana? Or, do I simply plead the fifth? What do you think Ryma?”
Ryma Hagen, their roommate from southern California came walking in on the tail end of the conversation. “Plead the fifth. Anything else is asking for trouble. So—what’s happening ‘round here?”
“Nothing. And that’s the problem. ‘Cause nothing is what we’ll be doing this summer,” groaned Trixie. “Why is that the boys always have something interesting to do and we don’t?”
Ryma looked thoughtfully at her friends. “Well, when I go home this summer, I’m going to be working at the same camp that I went to as a kid. I just love my camp! It’s so clear and peaceful up there, and there are so many things to do that you don’t have time to be bored. And, you'll be paid. If you really are looking for something to do, why don’t you apply for a position? I can call my friend at the council and have her send you some applications.”
Trixie jumped up excitedly, her Algebra book falling forgotten to the floor. “Oh Ryma! Could you really?” She turned and grabbed Honey.
“Do you remember the summer we first met? How my lucky brothers were away working at camp? And how I told you how badly I had wanted to go to camp?”
“Yes,” answered Honey slowly. “And do you remember me telling about how much I hated the camps my parents always sent me to?”
“Whoa! Time out!” Ryma held up her hands to make a T. “Tell you what, when I call my friend, I’ll have her send some brochures for you to look at with some camper comments. You don’t have to make a decision today. Although, I gotta tell you, I think you’d really like my camp.”
Diana hurriedly attempted to defuse the situation. “Ryma, that’s perfectly perfect. We can look at the brochures and you can tell us about your camp. And Honey, if you still don’t want to work there, I’m sure we’ll understand-won’t we Trix?”
Diana focused her big eyes carefully on Trixie, silently pleading with her to understand.
“That’s right Diana. ‘Sides it wouldn’t be any fun if we all don’t want to do this. Fair is fair.”
Honey breathed a sigh of relief. “Okay. Ryma, go ahead and contact your friend.”
The applications and the camping guide finally arrived from Costa Mesa, California. The pages were covered with numerous photos; girls hiking, swimming, canoeing, rock climbing, and riding horses. In other pictures, girls could be seen doing arts and crafts supplies, cooking at campfires, shooting arrows on the archery range, and playing with puppets on an outdoor stage. Page after page featured smiling campers who looked like they were having the time of their life.
Ryma sat down with Honey and shooed Trixie and Diana out of their dorm room. ìI think this would go better if it was just Honey and I. No pressure, right ladies?î
ìRight!î agreed Trixie and Diana as they left the room.
Ryma turned to face Honey. ìOkay, before we get started, suppose you tell me why you hate summer camp so much. All I know is what you said when I brought up the idea of you working as a camp counselor.î
Honey hesitated for a moment and her eyes looked haunted before she shook her head determinedly, as if to banish painful memories. ìI guess part of the problem Ryma, is that youíve met me only recently. You never knew me when I was a timid little scaredy cat. Gosh, I was scared of everything! When I first met Trixie, I was scared of my shadow. I'm still surprised that she wanted to be my friend. You should have seen me the first day we met. She came running up the hill to my house dressed in jeans and I was wearing a frilly little dress. The only reason I did so many crazy things with Trixie was because I was afraid to say no. That's why I was sure I was a real disappointment to my parents, especially my father. I've always suspected that that was one of the reasons I was sent to summer camp, to help me become more sociable. That's what all young girls of my 'station' did with themselves. Not to mention that it got us out of our parentís hair for the entire summer. Between boarding school and summer camp, I hardly ever saw my parents.î
Another look of discomfort and anger rippled briefly across Honeyís beautiful features. ìSo there I was, stuck with a bunch of underage harpies, all of them continually trying to one-up each other. I had to spend the entire summer with them,î she said through gritted teeth. ìBoarding school was bad enough, but even my summers were ruined!î
Tears started to pool in Honeyís eyes until she impatiently dashed them aside.
Ryma grasped Honeyís hands in her own. ìIím so sorry Honey, I had no idea...î
ìNo,î interrupted Honey, ìItís okay, Iíve gotten past that. I was lucky. My family moved to the country for my health, and I met Trixie, and well—youíve heard the rest. But...î Honey stood up abruptly and put her hands on her hips. ìI swore that I would never, ever be a party to inflicting that kind of life on someone else.î
This last sentence was accompanied by a look of such fierce determination that Ryma briefly drew back. Honey abruptly sat down again.
ìIím so sorry, Ryma,î apologized Honey, with a look of alarm. ìI didnít mean to shock you like that.î
"No, no, it's okay. At least now I have a better picture of what's going on. And, I know that you don't hate all summer camps." Seeing that Honey was about to interrupt, she quickly added with a grin, "Okay, just the bad ones.
"Anyway, why don't I tell you a little about my camp and see if that doesn't help you out a little. For starters, the girls don't stay the whole summer. The longest they get to stay is two weeks, and not all of them do that. Most of the time groups come up for only five to seven days. As for the other issue—well—um, how can I say this politely? Oh shoot, I'll just come out and say it. These girls aren't spoiled, rich kids. These are girls who are scouts and are coming to camp to work on badges or just to get out of the city for a few days. And quite frankly, we keep them so busy they hardly have time to blink much less give each other any grief."
Honey let out a big sigh. "Wow, that's a relief. But, gosh, only seven days! I can see how they'd be busy. Hey, wait a second. You mentioned badges?" Honey said this with a puzzled voice.
Ryma chuckled. "You were never in scouts were you?"
"No, keeping up with Trixie was always a full time occupation."
"Hmm, I see your point. Anyway, back to the badges. Badges represent knowledge and skills learned. Some badges can only be worked on in an outdoor setting, and for girls who live in the city..."
"Camp is the only place they can work on them?" Honey guessed.
"Exactly. Badges are a big deal to some of these girls. After all, some of them want to earn their Gold Award."
"Gold Award? What's that?"
"It's the highest recognition available. Trust me, it's a big deal in scouting. But I don't want to mislead you. Those badges aren't that important to everybody. Remember, I told you some girls just go to get away from the city. And we do offer a great variety of things for the girls to do. I guess that's one reason I kept going year after year. Every summer I could try something different. See, look here at the camp schedule. We offer the camper sampler and then all of these specialty sessions. Would you believe I've tried them all, either as a camper or as a counselor?"
Honey shook her head in amazement. "I had no idea there would be so many things to do. Why, some of these I wouldn't mind trying! But they have such funny names."
Ryma snorted in amusement. "Girl, you haven't heard anything yet. Wait till you hear the camp nicknames we use. That is," Ryma looked slyly at Honey, "if you're interested in learning more."
"Oh I am! You know this isn't as bad as I thought it would be. And to be perfectly honest, I've been feeling kind of silly. No. I've been kind of ashamed of myself." Honey buried her face in her hands. "I've been such a chicken. I thought I'd finally gotten over all of my issues."
"Honey, look at me," ordered Ryma.
Honey pulled her hands away from her face.
"I'm speaking as a psychology major here, as well as your friend. You have no reason to be ashamed of anything. You are acknowledging your fears and facing up to them. That's half the battle right there. And, as a friend I only have one other thing to add. You just said you would never inflict that kind of life on someone else. The best way to prevent experiences like that from happening is to get involved—personally."
Honey smiled. "Now you sound like Jim, when he's talking about his school."
"What can I say, great minds think alike! Seriously, someone with your compassionate nature would be a real asset. And besides, did you happen to notice this session?" Ryma pulled over the camping brochure and quickly thumbed through the pages. "Check it out!"
Following Ryma's pointing finger, Honey saw the listing for several programs. The one that Ryma was pointing to was titled: Crack The Case. The description immediately caught her attention. Are mysteries your favorite kind of book? Follow the clues and try some cool techniques used by real crime scene investigators to see if you can "Crack the Case."
"Oh my goodness!" squealed Honey. "Wait till Trixie sees this. She'll probably end up trying to teach the campers all by herself."
"Well, maybe not all by herself. But she can certainly apply to work in that program. So can you as a matter of fact. That is, if you're remotely interested in my camp." Ryma wiggled her eyebrows at Honey suggestively.
Seeing Honey start to weaken, Ryma pushed her advantage. "Not that I want to pressure you or anything, but what do you say, do you want to go to camp?"
Honey paused reflectively for several moments, and then took a deep breath. "Ryma, I think you just sold me on summer camp."
"Hallelujah! When Trix and Diana get back you can all fill out your applications. And while you are doing that, I'll share one of my favorite camp stories with you. If that doesn't get you salivating for camp, nothing will."
As promised, while the three girls were filling out their applications, Ryma told them about one of her experiences at camp.
ìI'm sure that you all know itís a tradition to tell stories around a campfire. To help us get in the mood—well, I canít exactly build a fire, so weíll have to make do with this.î
With a dramatic flourish, Ryma produced a tea candle and then lit it. ìVoila!î
ìThat, thatÖî sputtered Diana, ìdoesnít remotely resemble a campfire!î
ìWhy Diana, Iím extremely disappointed with you. I thought you were the thespian of this group. Surely you recognize symbolism."
"Symbolism, right."
"Hey, work with me would ya? Now then, imagine that you are no longer in New York. You are now high up in the San Jacinto Mountains of southern California. Youíve left behind the noise and the bustle of the city and traded it for the sound of wind blowing in the branches, the scent of pine in the air, and the sight of kids playing. Welcome to Camp Joe Scherman, over 700 acres soon to be filled with over 2,000 girls. It's the first day of camp and the counselors are excitedly waiting for the buses to drop off the first campers of the summer. Finally, the first bus can be seen cresting the top of the hill and counselors are waving at the kids. When the bus stops, campers spill off the bus and are greeted with song and dance from the staff. And by the way, let me tell you, it looks nothing like this by the time we get to the last group of the summer. But I digress.
"Let's skip ahead to the cabins where our little darlings will be staying. Diana, you'll appreciate this. It's the Theater-in-the-Woods session."
Diana started bouncing excitedly. "You have theater sessions? I didn't even see that!"
"Yes, we have theater. Now do you want to hear my story? You're getting as bad as Miss Impatient over there." Ryma jabbed a finger in Trixie's direction. Trixie promptly stuck out her tongue.
"Anyway, as I was saying. You know how I was mentioning that there are over 2000 girls? This is the Girl Scouts after all. Well I forgot to mention that there are also a grand total of four guys."
"Four, huh," Trixie interrupted, "and all those women! Sheesh, I feel sorry for them."
"Don't. Trust me these guys had an ego to match. Or at least one of them did. The camp always hires two college guys to help out each summer. They have to set up the tents before we arrive, deliver the food to the different units around the camp, and, oh gee, all sorts of thing. Now, one of our college guys was feeling pretty cocky. He would drive his cart with one leg propped ever so casually out the side. This of course, would happen while we were trudging all over those 700 acres. It didnít help matters any that he was extremely good looking—and knew it. After a while he kind of got on our nerves. So we decided to get even.î
Trixie perked up. ìWhat did you do?î
ìOhÖ nothing much. We just enlisted the help of our junior-high age girls.î Ryma grinned evilly at the recollection.
ìOoh!î Honey said. ìRaging hormones!î
ìExactly! We terrorized that poor boy. We gave the girls very explicit instructions. Every time Smokey was near us, that's his camp nickname by the way, the girls were to act like groupies. Oh my, you should have seen them. Smokey would stop by to make deliveries and some of the girls would go running over to him with paper and pen.
In a high-pitched squeaky voice, Ryma imitated one of the girls. ëOh Smokey - youíre so cute! Can we have your autograph?í
ìThen, the next time he came by, a whole bunch of the girls ran out with their cameras. Basically, it was the same routine as before.î Ryma batted her eyes at her audience. ëOh Smokey - youíre so cute? Can we take your picture?í
ìOh, oh,î gasped Honey, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes. ìI can just see the look on his face. Iíll bet he was furious. All those little teeny-boppers surrounding him.î
ìHmm, he was getting a might upset. But we werenít finished with him. You see, the acting unit is located about as far away from the dining hall as you can get. So, poor Smokey had to deliver stuff just about every day. And, this particular unit is one of the two-week sessions I was mentioning earlier. So he was really stuck. Every time he turned around, there we were! But we still werenít satisfied. So our little darlings went ahead and cooked up something special. Honest, it was their idea!î
ìYouíre killing us Ryma! Out with it already!î Diana threw a pillow at Ryma for added emphasis.
ìPatience, patience, my friend.î Ryma threw the pillow back and then continued. ìTheir crowning achievement was to throw their underwear up in the trees. When Smokey came down that day, they came running out and oh so innocently asked if he could help them get their clothes out of the tree." By this time Ryma was gurgling as she tried to finish telling the story without laughing uncontrollably. "Smokey was so furious, he refused to deliver to our unit for the rest of the session. But, he didn't drive around camp as cockily as he used to either."
"Now, that's... that's... that's what I call justice," whooped Honey.
"No—that's what I call camp. Ladies, that is just a small sample of the fun we have at camp. So tell me, are you ready for camp?"
"Yes!!"
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