Going To Camp

   
Brett 

Today Brett and his classmates are going camping for the first time in their lives. Brett is excited, I’m excited, Cearra is excited, and the dogs are excited everyone is excited. Brett's

"Got everything?"

"Yeah, I think so."

"Gads, Brett. That duffel bag is almost bigger then you are. What do you have in there? A woman?"

"I wish."

"Brett! You devil."

"Brett do you have protection? You never know you might get lucky."

After saying that I run out the front door Brett gave chase." I was kidding! Do not tickle me! Help me! Help me! Pre-teen boy on the loose!" I cried out in laughter. I drove Brett, Cearra, and the dogs to his school.

"Okay, everybody out. Cearra this is Brett's school. One day you will go to school here." "This is my school." Cearra said with a big smile.

"Would you look at that?"

"What?" Brett asked.

"That girl over there. She is bringing more then you are. Probably has her little sister in her duffel-bag. "Brett joined his classmates and started hobnobbing with his friends. Cearra and I looked for a drinking fountain. Students, parents, and proxies gathered in front of the school to bid their offspring goodbye. Duffel bags, paper sacks, suitcases and other types of luggage piled up on the curbside. Everyone had over packed for the three-day camping trip. "God, is it hot! I hope that bus comes soon".

The bus arrives two hours late and is received with little enthusiasm. Our demeanor being reduced to an angry hungry mob, wilted by an unseasonably hot sun for this time of year and to make matters worse there is one pitiful excuse for a tree which offers little shade for nothing more then the children’s school lunches. My stomach growls, I look over at the lunches with coveting thoughts. The children rush to the door of the bus so they can be first in line. First in line is very important it means you get the best seats, a window seat in the back of the bus. I made sure Brett knew this, so Brain and Brett boarded the bus first. Brett and Brian selected a seat in the back of the bus. A moment later window’s drop down, heads and arms protrude from them waving frantically. The other children pile into the bus and do the same thing. To me the bus looks like an orange centipede. Parents, friends, and sitters record on video, film and in memory their child’s experience for this is no ordinary day it is a special day…the day their children goes to camp for the first time. "Goodbye Brett! We promise not to move this time while you are away!" A woman standing next to me stopped waving and looked at me. I stopped waving and returned her gaze. Apparently, her mother moved while she was at camp and did not tell her about the move. When she came home the little girl discovered an empty trailer spot.

"Really?" I said half believing what I was hearing yet smiling.

"Yes, my mother did that to me. She thought it was funny." The lady answered.

I looked at this short chubby woman in dismay. Then with heart filled with compassion I touched her shoulder sympathetically and started laughing! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! My response shocked the lady. She quickly regained her composure and said, "It’s funny now, but it was not funny then. My mother was in a neighbors trailer watching for me." "Did she take a picture of your face?"

"No, she didn’t." "Well if there ever was a Kodak® moment—that was it." "I’d like to meet her perhaps we are related, does she live around here?" [Laughing] The bus driver started the engine and a black cloud of diesel smoke filled the air. Everyone present stepped backwards waving their hands in front of their faces coughing in discuss. 

"Bye Brett!" Cearra yelled.

"Bye Brian." The chubby woman next to me yelled.

"You...you are Brain’s mother?" I said. "Yes, do you know him?"

"Yes I do. He’s Brett’s best friend." "I’m Brett’s baby-sitter. My name is Cynthia, this is Brett’s sister, Cearra." "My name is Lori."

"I’m sure I’ll be seeing you around. Where Brett goes, Brain is sure to follow. With your permission I would like to take Brian with us on our outings. That is, from time to time. I think Brian would like that." "You have it, I am sure he would appreciate getting out of the house this summer, but beware Brian can be a handful. Are you sure it’s no trouble?" "If I can survive Cearra, I can survive Brian. I said, patting Cearra on the head. I’ll be all right." "Then we will see you around. Bye now. Take care. Say good-bye Cearra."

On the day Brett returned from camp he was picked up by his mother—it was my day off. Brett reported that camp was fun despite the power outages and rain. The food was okay—they ate spaghetti, hotdogs, and other kid stuff. They sang around the campfire ring with flashlights and raincoats. They also took a death march (hiking), played games and made crafts. Brett said everyone had a wonderful time. The bus took the city children away and returned them as woodsman/woman—wearing homemade Indian headgear and sunburns. It was an experience worth recording so I did happy memories Brett and Cearra.

The End  

Written By: Cynthia E. Martin  4-13-96

Edited by Sandy Woods & George Naanes

Active Participants

Brett Dickman age 12

Cearra Dickman age 4

Brain age 12

Lori—Brains mother

Cynthia E. Martin—forty something: the storyteller and baby-sitter. 

Setting: Dickman house Brett’s School.

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Last Updated: 01/14/02