Amber's Song, page 6
The three of us gathered at a corner of the pool before I sneaked a peek to see where Maxine was. I spotted her in the distance. Well, her head, anyway, floating just above the sparkling surface of the pool. She was staring at us. She looked confused. Or sad. Or angry. I wasn’t sure. She was kind of far away and the sun was so bright I had to shield my eyes.
Then I started to feel a little funny in the pit of my stomach. “I don’t know, guys,” I said. “Isn’t this kind of mean?”
“What’s mean about it?” Kaydence said. “We’re just playing!”
“Yeah,” Gio said, churning the water with graceful arm movements. “This is just a game.”
“I guess,” I said as I reached for the nearby ladder and lifted my soggy body out of the pool with a heave. “I’m going to find Ashton and see if she wants to join us at the barn later.”
“Okay,” Gio said, adjusting the strap of her swimsuit so that it smoothed out. “But I mean it. Don’t feel bad about the shark thing,” she said.
“Yeah,” Kaydence said. “We were just having fun. I mean, we’re entitled to a little privacy, aren’t we? She doesn’t have to be with us all the time, does she?”
“No . . . she doesn’t,” I admitted. “You’re right.” But as I padded away from the two of them, leaving a trail of wet footprints on the tile, I hung my head. And while trying to shake off some pool water from my arms I noticed that I still had the funny feeling in my stomach, and I couldn’t shake that off.
Just then I spotted Ashton, and I called her over to the side of the pool to ask if she wanted to help with the horses.
When I did, she repeated loudly, “Wash the horses?”
“Shhh! Not so loud!” I told her. “I don’t know how many people are allowed to come with me. I need to check with Trish.”
“Oh, okay! So, yeah, sure!”
“Okay, so just remember, don’t tell anyone else—” I began, but Ashton swam away, leaving me to say to no one, “—I don’t want to disappoint anyone if they can’t come . . .”
I let out a deep breath. The truth was I didn’t want Maxine finding out and insisting on coming along. Then I got that funny feeling in my stomach again. Like . . . guilt or something. But why? I wondered. Then the thought entered my head. You’re shutting Maxine out. I shook my head. That can’t be right. I mean, I can’t ask Maxine to come along. She would probably ruin everything. She’d hog Misty and all the attention from the counselors. Not to mention she would lie the whole time! I shuddered at the scenario I pictured in my mind. It would end up not being any fun at all. No, it’s best not to mention it to her, I told myself firmly. Then I straightened my shoulders. Besides, I’m not even sure we’ll be allowed to help with the horses. I still haven’t asked for Sunny’s permission!
I quickly scanned the pool area and found her standing by the side of the pool, timing races between Heaven and Harmony. “That was a close one!” she shouted at the twins. “Heaven won by a second!”
“I’m Harmony!”
“Oh, sorry, Harmony! Got you two confused—” She turned to me because I had tapped her on the elbow. “Oh, hi, hun. What can I do for you?”
I told her about Trish’s invitation to help with the horses. “Can I go? Maybe with some of the other girls?”
“Since it’ll be your free time, that sounds fine. Just let me know who’s going later, okay?”
“It’ll be me and Gio for sure,” I said. “Maybe a couple of other girls if it’s all right with Trish.”
“Yeah. I guess it depends on how many of you she can supervise at once,” Sunny said. “Don’t bring the whole cabin. You don’t want to overwhelm her—or the horses. Maybe some of you can help today, some tomorrow, and others the next day.”
I widened my eyes. That sounded like a great idea! I could hardly wait to suggest it to Trish. That way everyone in our cabin could have a turn. Including Maxine! Relief flowed through my body like a wave.
Then I got splashed—by what felt like a wave of water! I stood frozen in shock for a moment, soaked through and dripping. Then I slowly peered through the braids that were plastered against my face to see who had attacked me.
Maxine was standing just a few steps away from me, near the edge of the pool. She was holding an empty plastic bucket and laughing her head off. “Shark attack!” she said through her laughter.
I twisted my mouth up in a defeated smile. “You got me.”
“Yup!” Then she turned away from me to look across the glistening surface of the water to spot two figures climbing out of the pool some distance away. Gio and Kaydence! A sneaky smile spread across her face. “And now to get my next victims . . .” And after bending down and scooping up a heavy bucketful of pool water, she began running in their direction.
I wondered if I should shout a warning to them when I heard someone call out, “Hey! Amber!”
It was Tangie, waving at me from the pool. “Want to race? Sunny will time us!”
“I—” Then I heard the SPLASH! And the shrieks from Gio and Kaydence. Too late to warn them, I grinned at Tangie and shrugged. “Okay!” And when Sunny nodded, I held my nose and dropped myself back into the pool.
Chapter 8
We had art next. I love art, and always took an opportunity to paint or draw something. What made art class even more fun, though, was that we got to do it outside and dry off in the hot sun at the same time.
Our art teacher, Counselor Sam, stood waiting for us just outside a playing field in a patch of ground set up with two picnic tables. A large cardboard box sat at his feet. He pointed to it and at the T-shirts in all sizes and colors that filled it. “Pick one out! You’re going to get to play ‘designer’ today. On this table here,” he pointed to his right, “we have rubber stamps with every letter of the alphabet and all kinds of fun designs. On this next table we have fabric paints in all colors for you to choose from. You can dip one of these tiny sponges in the paint and dab it on the stamp like this,” he said, showing us quickly, “and then you can stamp your shirt up. Or, if you prefer, you can use a paintbrush or one of these fabric markers to write or draw with your own hand.”
As he spoke, it was funny, because when he pointed to the cardboard box, we all went, “Ooooh!” and ran over to it to start looking through it. But when he said “stamps,” we dropped the shirts back in the box and all rushed over to the table to look at what was there. Finally, when he mentioned paint and markers we ran over to that table to look at those.
Counselor Sam laughed, holding up his hands in protest. “Okay, everyone, calm down. You will all get a turn and be able to finish your shirt design before class is over. That is, if nobody hogs all the stamps or paints. You all have to share and cooperate with one another, okay?”
Ashton raised her hand. “Can we draw anything on the shirt or is it supposed to be something in particular?”
“Oh! I almost forgot to tell you! You’re going to be designing T-shirts for your cabin team!” Sunny said. “Before you begin, you’ll have to think up a name for your group.”
“That’s easy!” Gio said, and she began pumping her fist in the air and chanting, “Co-ries! Co-ries! Co-ries!”
Soon we were all chanting it. “Co-ries! Co-ries!”
“Okay, it sounds like you have a name!” Sunny chuckled. “But is that it? I mean, do you all want to call yourself, ‘The Cories’ or ‘The Cori-somethings’? Or the something-Cories? Or . . . something?”
Kaydence tapped her mouth with her pointer finger as she thought it over. “‘The Kind Cories’? ‘The Creative Cories’?”
“‘The Cori Chorus?’ ‘The Cori Choir?” Heaven suggested.
“How about . . . The Cori Corps!” Maxine practically exploded with her idea.
“‘The Cori-Core’?” Tangie sneered. “Like apple cores?”
“No, not like C-O-R-E, like C-O-R-P-S,” Maxine spelled out.
It was Kaydence’s turn to make a face. “Ew! Corpse? As in a dead body? No way!”
Maxine stamped her foot. “No! Not like a dead body!”
Sunny broke in, “‘Corps’ is pronounced ‘core’ but spelled like ‘corpse’ without the ‘e’ at the end,” she explained. “But it does mean body. Just not a dead one. More like a ‘body of people’ joined together to act as a team. You know, like how the body of Christ is the church. It’s a word you will find used in the military. Like ‘squad’!”
“A squad!” Everyone liked the idea after hearing that. “Okay, then let’s just be The Cori Squad!”
“Great!” Counselor Sam pointed to the T-shirts in the box. “The only rule for the design of the shirt is that you’re all supposed to make sure your team name is on it. You can paint it, write it, or stamp it—your choice. You might want to choose shirts in the same color, though, if you want to make them look more uniform. But you don’t have to.”
We all gathered around the huge box of T-shirts. There were so many beautiful colors to choose from, I didn’t think we’d all be able to settle on just one. There was bright blue, sunflower yellow, soft lavender, spring green . . . but when I saw an orangey-pink color peeping through near the bottom of the pile, I knew it would be perfect. I reached in for it . . .
Snatch!
Suddenly it was in Maxine’s hand, not mine. For a moment I thought she had just been trying to help me get it, so I smiled and held out my hand for her to hand it over. But instead she hugged the shirt to herself and announced, “I’m taking this one!”
“But . . .” I started to protest, but trailed off. I didn’t want the counselors to think I was some kind of baby. Plus, I didn’t think anyone had seen what she did. I bent down and dug deeper inside the box to see if I could find another shirt in that color. I had wanted to choose it because it was coral pink. The perfect color for “cories.” So I was so glad when I found a bunch more together near the bottom.
I pulled them up and offered them to the others. “Anyone else want to have a coral colored shirt? Get it? Coral for Cories?”
“Oh, yeah!”
“Cool!”
“Okay, let’s do that!”
“Copycats,” Maxine muttered under her breath.
I ignored her and found a place at one of the picnic tables, hoping she’d stay far away from me. Unfortunately, she didn’t. She stood facing me on the opposite side of the table.
Before we all started, Counselor Sam showed us all how to lay our T-shirts flat and to slip wax paper inside them so that the paint wouldn’t bleed from the front to the back (or stick both sides together like glue).
Finally it was time to begin. I decided to use stamps to spell out the words “The Cori Squad” instead of writing the words out by hand. I found a nice, deep blue paint that I thought would look good against the coral, and I squeezed out a small glop onto a piece of aluminum foil. Next, I put down the tube of paint and began dabbing the paint on a stamp of the letter “C” when I noticed Maxine pick up the blue tube of paint and begin squeezing a blob onto her small sheet of aluminum foil.
I pressed the “C” onto the shirt and then rinsed and wiped the block for someone else to use. I found the stamp for the letter “O” next and picked it up at the same time I saw Maxine pick up the letter “C” stamp and begin to cover it in the same shade of blue that I had.
I stopped what I was doing to watch her as she pressed the “C” down in the same area on her T-shirt as I had on mine.
“Are . . . are you just going to do everything the same way I do it?” I asked, trying not to sound as annoyed as I felt.
“No,” Maxine said. “It’s not my fault you grabbed the stamps first. I was going to use them like this, anyway.”
I didn’t believe her. But I just said “Huh,” in a doubtful tone.
As we continued to work, it became more and more annoying for me to see Maxine imitating my every move right after me and right before my eyes. When we were halfway through, I gritted my teeth. “You really should just make your own design,” I told her.
“This is my own design!” she insisted.
At this, Heaven and Harmony both stopped what they were doing with their own shirts to look over at what was going on with us. (Maxine and I were at the end of the table. Harmony was next to me, and Heaven next to Maxine.) Even though they were identical twins, their designs were not identical. Heaven was making a tiny repeated pattern with a stamp of a koala bear. Harmony was using a brush and painting big flowers on her shirt by hand. When they realized what Maxine was doing, they exchanged glances with each other, said nothing, and went back to their designing.
I sighed deeply and went looking through the stamps. When I found a cute one of a horse, I decided to stamp it all around the collar so it looked like a necklace. The moment I put it down, though, of course, Maxine picked it up and did the same exact thing to her shirt. The only difference was that she messed up on one of the horses a little. It faded out a bit at the legs, so she tried pressing the stamp over the same spot, and ended up making the horse print a kind of double image—at least it sort of looked like it had eight legs.
“Oh, no!” she moaned.
I actually felt glad when that happened, but not because she had messed up. (I would have been upset if that had happened to my shirt, and I felt bad seeing it happen to someone else’s.) I was only glad because there was now a way to be able to tell our shirts apart!
But she began flapping her hands and yelling out, “Help me! Help me!” Counselor Sam was at her side in a flash to look over the damage.
“You can use a Q-tip to clean that up with some water,” he told her in a soothing voice. “Do it now, though, before it dries. These are drying pretty fast under this sun.”
“I can’t!” Maxine whined. “I don’t know how!”
Counselor Sam grabbed a cotton swab and dipped it in a small plastic bowl of water. “Like this. See?” He began to carefully wipe away the doubled image of the horse.
Great! I thought to myself. So much for being able to tell them apart!
When he was done, it did look better, but I noticed there was still a slightly blurry look to the image. Maxine noticed, too, and she groaned. “It’s ruined!”
“No, it isn’t! Not in the least! I mean, it’s not perfect, but no one’s shirt is perfect,” Sam said. “I mean it, Maxine, take a look around you. I love the way they are all turning out. I think they look great! And it’s their little imperfections that make them look more interesting. If they were all perfect and identical then they may as well have been made in a factory by machines.” He patted her on the shoulder. “You’re not a machine, Maxine. You’re God’s creation. Enjoy being creative like the Father.” And he walked over to the next table.
Maxine crossed her arms and stared down at her shirt. She did not look convinced.
As I wondered what to do with my shirt next, Gio came over to my side. She opened her mouth to speak when she looked from my shirt to Maxine’s and back again to mine. Then back to Maxine’s. Then back at mine . . .
She crossed her arms. “Seriously?”
“Hi, Gio,” I said, not wanting her to say anything and start an argument. “How’s your shirt coming along?”
“Oh, great! I was just thinking that we should have a slogan for our cabin team. Then we can write them on our shirts. What do you think?”
“Yeah!” Tangie shouted from the next table.
“That’s a great idea!” Ashton, who was next to her, agreed.
“I’ve got it!” Kaydence said. “Since we’re from the First Letter to the Corinthians, how about, ‘We’re number one!’” She cackled at her own joke.
“Yeah!” Everybody jumped up and down.
“Um,” Sunny broke in. “Considering that Scripture passage from chapter thirteen is all about how love is kind, and patient, and doesn’t boast, is that really the most appropriate slogan?”
Kaydence laughed. “It’s not boasting! It’s telling the truth. You know, it is the first letter.”
“Yeah, but don’t forget what Jesus said,” Ashton spoke up, “the last shall be first and the first shall be last. If we put that on our shirts, we’ll probably end up coming in last in all our competitions.”
This made us all laugh some more.
“Good point. So, yeah, maybe not that for a slogan, then,” Kaydence admitted. “Can you read the Scripture to us again?” she asked Sunny.
“Sure.” Sunny took out her phone and looked it up. “‘Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails. But—”
She didn’t need to continue, because everyone shouted out at the same time, “Love never fails!” It was short, powerful, and perfect.
“Okay! I guess you found your slogan, then,” Sunny said, putting her phone away.
I flipped my T-shirt over to write the slogan on the back. I decided to write the words near the bottom so that when I wore it with my hair down my braids wouldn’t cover it. And since the words were God’s words, I decided that the best color to use would be gold. Finding a small jar of gold paint, I grabbed a paintbrush and tried to make the letters look as neat and as fancy as I could, but it wasn’t easy. It made me wish Lena was at camp with us so that I could ask her to do if for me. She knew how to make pretty, decorative letters with markers. She did it all the time at home on the chalkboard wall in our playroom or in her journal.
When I finished the lettering I put down the brush and decided I needed to let the words dry before trying to do anything more on the shirt. But when I saw Maxine take the brush, dip it in the gold paint, and start writing our slogan on the back of her T-shirt, I lost my patience and walked away. Now’s a good time to see what the others are doing, I decided.
I looked at Ashton’s first. She had found a cute soccer ball stamp and was using it to decorate the sleeves of her T-shirt. Nobody else had thought to decorate their sleeves, so I thought that was pretty cool. Kaydence had written the words “CORI SQUAD in super-giant letters on the front on her shirt and had painted three hearts around them in a kind of glittery paint. The heart on top of the word “Cori” said “Love.” The heart in between the words “Cori” and “Squad” said “Never” and the heart underneath “Squad” said “Fails.”
