Breathe in the Embers

Part 2

The drive to the camp passed quickly, almost unnoticed by Martin. He had long ago become inured to motion sickness by his constant reading in moving vehicles, and put that skill to excellent use now. It took a large chunk of ‘The Fellowship’ to arrive, during which the others on the bus were either goofing around or sleeping. Martin found both to be a waste of time. He didn’t have any friends on this trip unfortunately, and even if he did, none were close enough to occupy his time for so many hours.

Pine trees rolled by and many windows came down. It was a cool day, but the bus was filled with the heat and unfortunate scent of dozens of teenaged bodies. Martin would probably have been able to smell himself, never a good sign, had he not reapplied deodorant already. But thanks to the odor, his increasingly desperate bladder, and encroaching hunger, Martin was as ecstatic as his classmates to finally see the cabins come into sight up ahead.

The bus came to a stop and everyone stood, most of them slowly enough to draw an almost imperceptible grimace from the otherwise smiling Martin. Awfully inconsiderate of them to not get off the bus as quickly as possible. They’d all been cramped in here for the last few hours after all, and some fresh air and space was desperately needed by everyone. Yet they all stood and waited, politely saying nothing as was expected. Why was that? Martin never understood why it was impolite to mention to someone that they were in the way, when they were impolite enough to be in the way to start with. Alas, Sue and Kevin had long ago instilled in him the need to be polite and kind, no matter the provocation.

So, since it was his custom to hide out in the furthest seat in the back of the bus, Martin was among the last students to get off of it. It took a further ten minutes to wait for his luggage to be snagged from beneath the bus, as he had also been extremely punctual, among the first to arrive for the trip, so every other bag was packed after his. The pains of being the only one to do as he was supposed to were familiar to him, however, and he patiently waited his turn.

Eventually the bags were unpacked, the students wandered into the camp, and at last they began to gather. The camp consisted of a dozen log cabins, one of which was massive, centered around an open space with a flagpole in the middle. Various sport fields were visible on the outskirts, sometimes actually lodged within the forest. Mountains towered all around the valley the camp sat in, making them feel not just alone out here, but cut off, isolated. Martin was as unnerved by this as the others were excited. They chatted about exploring, about the sports they would play, about going fishing even, but no one talked about missing home.

Martin didn’t talk, but he did miss home.

He looked at the sport fields, the hiking trails surely hidden in the mountains all around, and thought of how dirty he would get here. How this shower would not be like his own. That he would surely share a room with others, with people he didn’t know well enough to trust in his personal space. There was so little privacy here, and Martin treasured his time alone. He could feel his mood go sour slightly, though he tried to be excited, but was jarred from his thoughts by an elbow in the ribs.

“Hey Marty!” Margaret greeted cheerfully, Martin sighing and rubbing his ribs. It didn’t hurt, it was just sudden. Like always. “I thought I saw your nest in the back! You always show up early and camp out. Guess that’s the point this time though!”

“The point of what?” Martin asked, masking his irritability as best he could. He didn’t like inflicting himself on other people when he was in a bad mood, but sometimes it was hard to avoid.

“The point… of camp. Like we are camping, and you always camp out… in the bus.” Margaret explained with a shrug, her grin returning with a gusto. She was a heavyset girl, to the point that she could probably give some on the football or wrestling teams a run for their money. She was also constantly cheerful and kind, at least to Martin, and her smile made her face positively glow. Annoyingly, he felt his foul mood beginning to brighten, no matter how sullen he tried to remain. “Anyway! Glad you’re here buddy.” she leaned in conspiratorially. “This trip would’ve sucked if it was nothing but the jocks and the kids whose parents forced them to come.”

To be fair, Martin was very narrowly absent from her list. When the voluntary summer trip had been announced, at the end of the school year, Martin hadn’t been exactly enthusiastic. He liked his room in his house, with his family. He knew them, was comfortable there, and everything he wanted was there. He never understood why anyone would want to spend a long time away from the place they had built to be their own. “I’m glad I am too.” he finally admitted, then started, realizing he might have been accidentally rude. “I mean I’m glad I decided to come, and that you did too. I’m glad both of us are here.”

Margaret laughed, a joyous reply on her lips, when a whistle blew. Conversation petered slowly out, as it tended to, until the counselor standing before the flag upon a log finally had the attention of everyone. “Welcome to Camp Coriolis!” she greeted, blond ponytail flapping in the breeze, red cap gleaming and new. Her T-shirt, with the camp logo, was the most pristine white he had ever seen. Her hiking shoes somehow managed to seem off the shelf, and worn in, at the same time. If the black shorts had shown the creases of being pressed, Martin wouldn’t have been surprised. There was a strange, rugged newness about her that screamed camp counselor, and would have anywhere in the world. “My name is Kylie, and I’ll be your Lead Counselor for the next week!”

“How can she make it feel like she isn’t going to take any of our shit, while being so preppy, without being ridiculous?” Margaret whispered as Kylie launched into her preplanned spiel about camp rules, safety, etc, etc.

“I dunno, she seems pretty ridiculous.” Martin whispered back.

Margaret chortled. “That’s just because every inch of her fits the stereotype. Blonde, tanned, pretty, young, enthusiastic. Seems like she should have to try to be that cheerful, but it's probably genuine. And of course, she probably actually knows enough about the outdoors to school us all thoroughly.”

“I am getting a weirdly savvy vibe from her.”

“Savvy? Like ‘Arrr I be a pirate’ savvy?”

“Savvy like ‘shrewd and knowledgeable’, which is why I’m sure you’re not familiar with the term.”

Margaret stuck her tongue out, and Kylie started to call out names. Martin was genuinely smiling now, the friendly banter with his classmate having cheered him up despite himself. The students began to split up, separating toward their assigned cabins dutifully, eager to see what new friends they’d be making. Martin found himself missing the easy cheer of Margaret and her teasing, and watched his new bunkmates assemble with trepidation.

He might like some of them. He’d probably like all of them. There were very few people he actually disliked, but others didn’t always understand him.

*****

Three hours in and Martin was already worn out from socializing. Everyone in his cabin was nice enough, especially by high school standards. There hadn’t been any casual insults, or jokes, or grandstanding bids for dominance. Mostly they had discussed the most recent exploits of Calibur, one of the most popular superheroes in America. Martin didn’t follow such news much. Heroes had been around for decades now, and though they were awesome and saved people, they didn’t really inspire Martin like his books did. They were all just… too real, with real people faults and flaws, the kind he could never understand. And the more controversy and scandal that popped up related to some of the heroes, the more disillusioned he became.

But despite his taciturn presence, his cabin mates had been welcoming. They’d all said hello and started chatting before being called to the dining hall, all very pleasant. Martin hadn’t participated much, but that’s part of why it had been so pleasant. No one had pressed the issue.

Then they got into the dining hall, and of course, there came the most high pressure moment of the day. Choosing where to sit. Here, there wasn’t any avoiding the issue of preferring to be alone. You either picked a table, hoped they were welcoming, and were forced to chatter (or kill their fun with awkward silence), or you could pick an empty table and have the solace of quiet become the awareness of being singled out. Either that, or the other kids avoiding social interaction would sit with him. Nothing was as awkward as a silence being maintained by multiple people.

Fortunately, his decision was made rather easy by an arm slung across his shoulder. Martin almost dropped his food tray, which would have been a travesty. The sloppy joe looked surprisingly delicious. He sighed. “Margaret. I assume you have a seat saved for me?”

“Presumptive of you.” Margaret replied. He could hear the grin in her voice, in much the same way he didn’t have to look at her to know who the arm belonged to. Of course, there wasn’t really anyone else who took such liberties with his personal space. “To think you have a permanent reserved space by my side! And to think that I put up with such… such rudeness from my friend!” She managed to throw herself into an impressively dramatic pose considering her arm never left Martin, and her other balanced her own food tray.

Friend? The word set Martin back enough that he didn’t protest, or even really listen to her excited chatter as she led him over. He’d call Margaret a classmate, certainly, that was a simple fact. And he definitely found that she could cheer him up. They’d only known each other for this past semester though, and mostly through group work in social studies and random hallway interactions. Maybe she wasn’t cheerful all the time, and maybe she wasn’t universally nice. Martin never really questioned their interactions like that before.

So rather than sitting awkwardly by himself, or forcing his presence onto strangers who in turn would force social interaction out of him, Martin found himself enjoying a rather comfortable lunch with Margaret and her cabin mates. He hadn’t felt out of place talking to girls since elementary school, and they weren’t nearly as difficult to get along with as other guys. No alpha male shenanigans, or the comfortable joking that made Martin bristle when it came from near strangers. It was the first time he’d ever actually enjoyed a meal surrounded by his classmates, even though it wasn’t technically at school this time, it was something of a novel experience.

And he had to admit, it was one he’d be happy to repeat in the future.