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“So,” said Mirador, “what do you think of the new crop?”
Sacea hummed, leaning a little on the railing of the main office (but not too hard - the fourth section along, where they were, was still wobbly after a fireworks incident the year before), surveying the other would-be counsellors. Gaje she remembered as being a camper many years ago - basically a good kid, and one who’d had a number of extreme growth spurts by the look of him now - but Fleming and Jud were unknown quantities to her.
From her brief discussion with Fleming on where he should park his car so as to not immediately invite pranks from the campers she’d gathered he was a man on a mission to gather as many extra-curriculars as possible before college, and so she could assume that his reason for applying was to earn a small amount of money while turning his time there that summer into a small paragraph in some future internship application. Not the worst motivation, as things went. Jud…
She hummed again. Jud was barely older than some of the campers they’d have, always a concern. Although his application had claimed that he had attended the camp every year practically since birth, he’d already gotten lost three times trying to go between the main hall and the dorms. Either a very poor memory or a very bad liar.
Still, you didn’t need to be pure of heart to be a decent camp counsellor. You only needed to be able to work through the summer and to not have a complete breakdown if a kid threw up on you. As long as Jud could do that, they’d get along just fine.
“That bad huh?” said Mirador.
“I haven’t had long enough with them yet to say,” said Sacea. “Only time can tell the true worth of a man’s soul.”
“Uh. Sure,” said Mirador.
Sacea pushed herself back slightly, smiling. “They’ll be fine. Don’t worry so much.”
“I’ll stop worrying when it’s the end of summer,” said Mirador. He scrubbed a hand through his hair. “I’m gonna go check on Scrundle.”
----
Jud eyed the horse warily. Scrundle seemed like a very even tempered sort of horse, but you could never tell, with horses.
Or, Jud assumed that was the case. Scrundle was the first horse he’d ever met, but Jud was very much trying to not let it seem like that was the case. Judging by Scrundle’s name above the stable and carefully polished saddle and the way Mirador talked about Scrundle, Jud assumed the horse was a repeat visitor, which was what he was also supposed to be.
He hadn’t actually been to the camp before, if you wanted to get technical about it. He’d heard about it every year from his neighbour, always coming back at the end of summer with a bad sunburn and tall tales about how much fun he’d had, all the friends he’d made, all the cool experiences he’d had.
And what did Jud get to do all summer? Nothing. He didn’t go further than a few blocks, he didn’t do anything besides waiting around his mother’s office building because she didn’t trust him to be home alone or maybe, sometimes, the movies. Boring, boring, boring.
That would have been what he was doing now, just like always, except he’d been sent down to collect the mail one day and someone had put a letter for the neighbours in their letterbox. Invitation for Past Campers to Apply for Counsellor Positions. He’d almost gone to put it back, but then… Why shouldn’t he apply? It was only an invitation, after all, not a confirmed position. Jud was just as good of a future camp counsellor than anyone.
And, sure, maybe he’d said that he’d been a camper there for years and years, but everyone embellished their experience on applications. It wasn’t like you really needed qualifications or anything to work at a summer camp. He could pick up anything he needed to as he went along.
“Jud! There you are,” said Mirador. “Could you give me a hand with Scrundle? I just need to-”
“Sorry, no,” said Jud quickly. “I have to- I’m needed over there.” He waved a hand vaguely in the direction of the small vegetable garden and plastic greenhouse. “I was just, um. Just saying hello to Scrundle. You know, old friends and all that.”
“Yeah,” said Mirador, giving him a weird look. “You- Over by the worm farms?”
“Yep,” said Jud, in what he hoped was a businesslike manner. “Uh huh, the worm farms. Gotta check on the worms.”
“Okay, well… Fine,” said Mirador. “But-”
“Thanks Mirador,” said Jud, walking away quickly. “Lots to do! See you later!”
----
It was weird to be at the camp again. Not bad, just weird, like being at school at night, except this time Gaje wasn’t likely to get in trouble for breaking in.
He’d get to do better stuff, too, not forced into craft activities and sing-alongs. Sacea had said she’d cover for him, since he was better at the repair work. He’d always liked fitting things together, and lifting heavy stuff, well, that was easy. He even got to do stuff without anyone looking over his shoulder, just clearing out the old shed to see what they might have on hand to fix a busted pipe in one of the shower blocks before Mirador did a run into town.
“Um. Excuse me?” said a voice behind him. “Is that… Do you know where the worm farm is?”
Gaje looked up. Jud was there, one hand clutching at the shed door like he was Scooby-Doo peeking around it. Weird kid, always seemed to be hiding himself somewhere. No wonder Gaje didn’t remember him from camp.
“It’s by the greenhouse,” said Gaje.
“Oh, yes,” said Jud. “Right, no, I remember.”
“Yeah, they moved it since last year,” said Gaje.
“No, of course,” said Jud. “I mean, I remember that they moved it. I noticed it had been moved from where it usually was, from where it was before I mean.”
“Right,” said Gaje. He squinted at Jud - standing in the doorway like he was, his expression was in shadow. “You into worms?”
“Oh sure,” said Jud. “Absolutely, love ‘em.”
“You love them?”
“I, yeah, of course,” said Jud. “I mean, we have so much in common.”
“With the worms,” said Gaje.
“Yeah, you know, I mean…” Jud glanced behind him. “They like to eat stuff. I like to eat stuff.”
“I mean, I guess when you put it that way, sure,” said Gaje. “You need anything from me to do… whatever it is you’re doing?”
“No, no,” said Jud, “I’m just, you know. Just saying hi.”
“To the worms,” said Gaje.
“Yep,” said Jud. “Always do it, every year. Me and the worms.”
“Right,” said Gaje. “You and the worms. I remember.”
“You do?” said Jud. “I mean, yes, of course you do.” He paused. “You used to… I mean, you were also a camper here, weren't you?”
“Couple times,” said Gaje. “On and off, you know how it is.”
“Yeah, absolutely,” said Jud. “I do know how it is.”
“How about you?”
“Me?” said Jud. “Me, well I- Every year, like clockwork, you know. Always- Always just up at camp. Love it.”
“Sure,” said Gaje. He paused, deciding to take a kind of pity on Jud. “Yeah, we love it, and we’re gonna make sure the campers love it as much as we did.”
That did not make Jud look any less anxious. Gaje sighed. It was probably the closest the kid had ever had to a full time job, probably nervous about making a good impression or doing a good job or whatever stuff people worried about.
Gaje was not really a worrier. Probably he wouldn’t have gotten in so much trouble if he’d worried a little more, or that’s what his mom always said.
“Hey, look,” said Gaje. “You’re gonna do fine. I was nervous my first time being a counsellor, but the kids were basically great and when you get one that’s not you just let Sacea know and she’ll sort ‘em out. It’s easy.”
“Right. Right, yes,” said Jud. “It’s easy.”
“Yeah,” said Gaje. He turned his attention back to figuring it out if he could cut one of the pipe segments to be small enough to fix the broken one. “Let me know how the worms are.”
----
Fleming sprang back, barely avoiding getting sprayed with water though he couldn’t stifle his sound of surprise.
“Oh, yeah, watch out for that one,” said Gaje. “I haven’t fixed it yet.”
Fleming huffed a breath, trying to compose himself before he turned to face Gaje, his eyes drawn to the toolbox in Gaje’s hand. “What are you doing?”
Gaje held up the toolbox. “Fixing stuff.”
“Shouldn’t we wait for the plumber?” said Fleming.
“Why?” said Gaje, stepping past him and shutting off the tap. “I got it.”
“But you’re not… I mean, no offence, but I doubt you’re qualified,” said Fleming.
“Uh, okay, no offence but neither are you,” said Gaje.
“That’s- You don’t- I might be,” said Fleming.
“Well, okay then.” Gaje held out the toolbox towards him. “Go ahead.”
Fleming huffed a breath, crossing his arms.
Gaje lowered the toolbox. “Okay, so, I’m going to fix this.”
“I think maybe you should check with Mirador,” said Fleming.
“Mirador’s the one who told me to do it,” said Gaje. He glanced over his shoulder at Fleming. “What are you in here for anyway?”
“I wanted water to test some of the paints,” said Fleming.
“Why do they need testing?” said Gaje. “It’s paint, not a microwave.”
“Because I want to see what quality I’m working with,” said Fleming. “I need to make sure I’m giving the children appropriate direction.”
“Right, sure,” said Gaje. “Your art program extravaganza or whatever.”
“My art project curriculum, yes,” said Fleming.
Just because Gaje didn’t find it impressive, that didn’t mean anything. After all, that was clearly why Mirador had hired him, and when they’d spoken on the phone Mirador had seemed suitably impressed by the work Fleming had put into his application.
As he should have. It had cost Fleming almost twenty bucks to print off the educational prospectus in colour. At least Mirador recognised high quality work when he saw it, not that you would know it from the cobbled-together pack of counsellors.
“Probably better to use another tap,” said Gaje. “And, uh… maybe you should talk to Sacea? I think she was in charge of the art stuff last year, she probably knows where all the good paintbrushes are.”
“Right,” said Fleming. “At least someone does.”
----
“How are you settling in?” asked Sacea.
Jud flinched - very jumpy, that boy, but then she’d often been accused of walking too quietly. It had a tendency to spook some of the younger campers, but it was useful for catching the older ones if they were planning some unsanctioned activity.
“Oh, uh. Fine! Just fine,” said Jud. “It’s- You know. Great to be back.”
Sacea hummed. “I saw you were over by the greenhouse.”
“Yes, I was checking on the worms,” said Jud.
“The… worms?” asked Sacea.
“Yes, I- Well, y’know, I was telling Gaje, y’know. We have a lot in common,” said Jud.
“In common with the worms?” said Sacea.
“I mean, y’know, sort of,” said Jud. “They eat food, we eat food.”
“They have multiple hearts, you have multiple hearts,” said Sacea.
“Well, yeah,” said Jud. “I mean. Metaphorically. And they’re a bit like… the campers? Y’know… they’re… small and we have to take care of them.”
Sacea gave him a considering look. Jud shifted his feet.
“You know,” said Sacea. “I suppose you’re right.”
“I am?” said Jud. “I mean, yes, I am.”
Sacea patted him on the arm. “Come on. You can help me get the easels out of storage.”
“I thought Fleming was doing all that,” said Jud.
“Of course,” said Sacea. “But he doesn’t know where everything is, like we do.”
“Like- Yes, of course, the easels,” said Jud. “They’re just over…”
“This way,” said Sacea.
“Right, that’s just what I was going to say,” said Jud. “They’re this way.”
Sacea hummed again. An odd kid, but then again, weren’t they all.