Eternal Spring A Young Adult Short Story Collection (3 page)

BOOK: Eternal Spring A Young Adult Short Story Collection
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“Of course not,” I said. “Sit.”

“Thanks,” he said and settled onto the log. “I'm afraid to
take my eyes off of Owen. The other kids have done well so far. I just don't
want him picked on.”

“How long has he been homeschooled?”

“He had issues with social skills even before his magic came
in.”

“These kids are making me sad,” I admitted.

“What's sad is that you never use your magic,” Sophie said.

“Better safe than sorry,” I said. “Not that you are supposed
to tell anyone.”

“You never use your magic? You know what Chaucer would say,”
Ian added.

“No,” Sophie said.

“Not a clue,” I admitted.

“Nothing ventured, nothing gained.”

“Oh.” I didn't know that was Chaucer. I glanced at him.
“Point taken. After watching all the trouble that Sophie got into—”

“Hey! This isn't about me.”

"—I didn't want to go through all that.” She'd
been homeschooled twice, spent a week with a monkey tail that grabbed onto
everything she passed, and grown giant eagle wings for arms, which made opening
her, Christmas presents impossible two years ago.

“You should reconsider,” he said. “You're older now. You can
handle it.”

“The magic or the punishment?”

He shrugged. “Up to you, I guess.”

I kept telling myself that I didn't need magic, and right
now, I didn't. Sophie and Ian did have a point though. If I ever needed it in
the future, I would be in trouble. I should be learning the basics.

Mrs. Laverdiere signaled for everyone to be quiet. “We're
going to sing campfire songs tonight,” she told us, “and tomorrow night will be
spooky stories. Now, let's start with ‘Don't be Selfish.’”

The kids started singing the song, written to the tune of
“Make new friends but keep the old.”

“Now let's do rounds.” Mrs. Laverdiere pointed to the fire.
“If you're on this side, start first.
This side come
in with ‘Don't’ when the first group is on ‘You'll.’”

 

Don't be selfish

or break the rules

You'll be punished

and feel like a fool.

 

After several tries, the group sounded pretty good.

“What should we sing next?” the director asked.

“Stop Stop Stop and think!” A couple of kids yelled.

“Great idea.”

 

The group began singing to the tune of Row, Row,
Row
your boat.

 

Stop, Stop, Stop and Think

Before you make a scene.

Your magic has consequences.

And they can get mean.

 

“I still hear these in my sleep sometimes,” I whispered.

Ian laughed. “No wonder you're afraid to try your magic.”

“Sometimes I sing them to you when you fall asleep before
me,” Sophie said.

“Seriously?” How evil!

“No, but I will from now on.” She laughed as I made a
strangling motion with my hands.

“Now we all know your weaknesses,” Ian said. “We can control
you to our own ends.”

“Right,” I said. “I've always been in demand with the
villainous set.”

Mrs. Laverdiere motioned for us to pass out the
snacks—popcorn balls and juice boxes.

The girls sang all the way back to our cabin, and I was sure
they'd fall asleep quickly.

I was wrong.

 
 

On Monday morning, our cabin arrived at breakfast twenty
minutes late. Sophie and I hadn't had time to wash our hair. Mine smelled like
smoke from the campfire, and hers looked a little greasy. I had no doubt mine
did too.

“Good morning,” Ian said, sliding up behind me in the line.

“Not so sure about that,” I answered.

“Rough night?”

“The girls didn't sleep. Did you know girls giggle?” I took
a tray and grabbed some silverware and napkins. “Like for hours at a time?”

Ian's lips curved into a grin. “I probably shouldn't point
this out, but, Emma, you are a girl.”

“Not like them. I never—" Actually, I couldn't
count the number of times my mother and Sophie's mother had yelled for us to
stop giggling and go to sleep. “It was a nightmare,” I said.

“I guess none of us got any sleep.”

“Oh no.” Owen. “Did Owen snore?” I'd been whining about
giggling for crying out loud.

“Unfortunately, yes.”

“The ear plugs?”

“Couldn't begin to help.”

“How bad was it?”

“You wouldn't believe it. We were up until three.”

“Did he stop at three?” I grabbed some toast and scooped a
serving of eggs on to two plates.

“No. At three, I finally figured out which charm would work.
I didn't want to stop the snoring because I might interfere with his breathing,
and I didn't want to alter everyone's hearing in case of an emergency. I
finally used a charm to put up an invisible sound-muffling wall three feet from
his bed in every direction.” Ian used tongs to grab a biscuit and a sausage
patty.

“Wow.” I wouldn't have been able to do anything. I couldn't
have helped Owen. “Are the kids being mean to him?”

“No. They thought it was hilarious until about one. Then
they pretty much begged for death.” He smiled. “I considered granting some of their
wishes.”

“You would never!” I reached for two orange juices and added
them to the tray. “You're really good at this. How many times have you been a
counselor here?”

“This is my first. I had to wait until I turned fourteen.”

“Ian!” One of the boys called.

“Come here!” Another said.

“Duty calls,” he said, and he carried his tray over to his
campers.

I walked to our table and handed Sophie her food.

“I need Starbucks,” she hissed. “Not just a latte, the whole
Starbucks.”

“Will you share?”

“I can't make any promises,” she said.

I glanced down the table at five tired, miserable girls.
“We're doing a double hike today,” I told them. “And if this happens again,
we'll do three hikes.”

“What?” Britney squeaked.

“Seriously?” Stephanie moaned.

Sophie grinned at me over her egg sandwich. “You can have
half the Starbucks. Definitely.”

 
 

On Tuesday, as I passed out the marshmallows and chocolate
bars for s'mores, I glanced over at the counselors for the other girls' cabin,
the two J's. I didn't envy them. They'd woken to a camper with a giant frog's
head. I had to make a serious effort not to stare. The head attached directly
to her shoulders, and she had no neck at all. Somehow, her counselors had cut
the neck out of her yellow Camp Cauldron t-shirt to make it fit.

Instead of being upset, the girl, Maggie, seemed to enjoy
being different. I turned to check on her. Scott had both of her counselors
wrapped around his finger, and neither was watching their campers. As I
watched, Maggie used her giant frog's tongue to swipe another camper's
marshmallow.

My line never ended as the kids went through their
marshmallows and chocolate quickly. I knew better than to leave the chocolate
unattended. Actually, for some reason, chocolate gives witches diarrhea, so
this was fake chocolate. The camp had a "no candy" policy other than
the official camp desserts. Sophie was busy helping our campers manage roasting
their marshmallows and build their s'mores. I tried to catch her eye, but she
didn't notice. The tongue flashed again and grabbed a full s'more this time.

“Scott,” I yelled. “Quit distracting them. They need to deal
with F—” What was frog girl's name? Right. “Maggie!”

Three pairs of eyes turned to shoot daggers at me.

I made a face in return and turned to find Mrs. Laverdiere standing
beside me.

“Aaa!” I said.

“Emma”" she said, putting a hand on my arm. “You are
doing a terrific job. I just wanted to thank you for working so hard.”

“You do. Really?”

“Really,” she said. Then she winked at me before moving on
to the campfire.

Wow. She thought I was doing a good job. I'd never had a job
before, and I stood a little straighter after hearing her compliment.

“Time for spooky stories,” Mrs. Laverdiere called from the
head of the campfire circle. “You guys are in for a treat tonight. Ian is going
to get us started with a spooky tale.”

Across the group, Ian turned on a flashlight and held it
under his chin. “Have you heard the story about ‘Arthur and The Asylum for the
Incurable?’”

I wandered over to the fire and watched as he told his tale
with his ghost story voice. The kids were enthralled, and he performed like a
master storyteller.

The kids jumped as Ian revealed the sights inside the
asylum.

“He's pretty great, isn't he?” Sophie whispered.

I was vaguely aware that she had moved to sit beside me, but
I hadn't taken my eyes off of Ian. “Yeah,” I admitted.

“Kind of cute too.”

“Yeah,” I said.

“You guys would make a great couple.”

“Mm.”

She clapped her hands together. “Yay! I'm so excited to have
a project.”

“No!” I hissed. “You stay out of it.”

“How could I do that? I care about your happiness.” She
placed her hand on her chest to emphasize her sincerity.

“Don't embarrass me.”

“Fine. You promise to hook up by the end of the week, and
I'll leave you alone.”

“Sophie!”

She tilted her head and waited, blinking the eyelashes that
I hadn't seen without mascara in at least two years until this week.

“Fine,” I said. Then I ignored her and watched Ian and
wondered exactly what it would be like to kiss him.

 
 

On Wednesday morning, my campers were marching past
Ian's
and Scott's cabin when Mrs. Laverdiere zoomed up in a
white panel van.

“Get the girls to breakfast, Sophie,” she said as she rushed
up the cabin steps. “Emma, you stay with us.”

Sophie shrugged, downplaying her inevitable curiosity. “We'll
save you something good,” she said and motioned for the girls to keep moving.

 
Between the van
and the sense of urgency, I had enough clues to brace myself for something
unsightly.

I climbed the steps and peered into the cabin. I couldn't
see much. Ian and the director were stooped over something on the floor. I
stepped closer and saw that one of the boys now had a giraffe's neck. Normally,
the kid would have stood at just
under
five feet tall.
The neck was at least six feet. He stretched across the entire cabin floor.

“Stay calm, Max,” Ian was saying. “Mrs. L is going to take
you to the hospital. You'll be playing video games in no time.”

I looked up at the ceiling. The child couldn't stand up in
here, much less clear the doorframe. “What's the plan,” I asked.

“Ian has an idea,” Mrs. L said.

In a faux whisper, Ian said, “Hey Max. You know that cute
counselor from Britney's cabin. The one with brown hair?”

“Yes,” he said, his eyes squeezed tightly shut.

I grinned.

“Her name is Emma. Me and Emma are going to crawl out of
here with you.”

“I can't, Ian. I really can't.”

“You can. We'll turn you over and you can get on your hands
and knees. Then
me and Emma
will slip under your neck
and get on our hands and knees. And we will all crawl out the door and onto the
porch like giant caterpillar.”

I could picture it, but I had my doubts. Until this week,
I'd had no idea how hard it was to be one of these slow learners.

Ian and I got down on our hands and knees. We counted to
three and then he rolled and we carefully maneuvered his neck. Next we did as
Ian had said. I'd never been up close and personal with a giraffe neck before.

“Okay, Emma,” Ian said from behind me. “Start crawling.”

We made it outside.

“Max,” Ian said. “It's going to be really hard to stand up
and support your neck. It works for giraffes because they have a bigger base
and four feet on the ground. You only have two. You push yourself up with your
arms and legs and we'll do the same thing so that your neck can follow along.
Once you are standing, grab me with your arms so I can help steady you and
carry part of your weight.”

“Okay,” he said.

“Emma, are you ready?”

“Ready,” I said, hoping my voice didn't convey my concern.

“Tell us when, Max, and we'll all count. One, two, and then
go on three.”

“Okay. I'm ready.”

“One. Two.”

“Three,” we all said as we strained to climb to our feet.

A split second later, and I was free of the neck. I turned
to see Max actually smiling as he hunched over Ian, gripping his chest with
white knuckles. Ian grimaced as he struggled to help with the weight.

The two of them stumbled down the steps and crawled into the
back of the van in that position. Mrs. L guided Max's head carefully from the
side door, and Ian crawled through and out of the van. Once Max was lying
comfortably on his side in the van, he gave us a thumbs up.

Ian shut the door, and we waved as Mrs. L drove away.

“There aren't any windows in the van, you know,” I said. “He
can't see us wave.”

“Thank God,” Ian said, and he melted onto one of the porch
steps. “How much do you think that neck weighed?”

“I don't know. A hundred and fifty, maybe two hundred
pounds?” I sat beside him and watched as he rubbed his arms.

“I was keeping up with my magic but I wasn't lifting
weights.”

I laughed, and moved behind him to rub his neck and
shoulders. All of it was so natural that it took a moment for me to realize
that I was touching a guy. Massaging a guy. I didn't stop. I made myself keep
kneading his muscles.

“Thanks, Emma,” he said in a rough voice.

I was excited, and terrified, and I had stopped breathing in
anticipation of what might happen next.

Then we heard the shouts from Scott as he ran down the path.
“You did it!” He jogged right up to us, and I dropped my hands in my lap. “I
can't believe you did it.” He high fived Ian and then me. “Get moving, guys,”
he urged. “Everybody's waiting to hear about Max.”

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