The Right Time (4 page)

“I’ll try the carrot,” Hennessy said. “But I’ll keep the stick close by.”

“Whatever works. Bring me in anytime you need to. You’ve got the two-way, right?”

Hennessy patted the radio that let them all keep in touch despite the poor cell phone reception on that part of the island. “Right in my pocket. Thanks, for the pep talk. I’ll see you tonight.”

“Ten o’clock. Counselors’ cabin.”

“I’ll be there.”

Hennessy went back inside, reflectively sniffing the big basket of pine cones sitting on the table in the common room. It was just a cabin, but it was damned homey. They didn’t have little decorating things in her house, and she noticed every one. One day she was going to have her own place. A nice one. And she liked to store ideas away for when the time came.

She’d been dreaming about camp for months, finding herself more and more excited as the days ticked by. In her dreams, she had a cabin full of eager, excited kids, just like she’d been. But having to corral Townsend was already taking the edge off that fantasy. As she passed her room—her
single
room—she reminded herself that you didn’t get the perks without the pains.

The common room was empty, so the group had obviously taken her suggestion to pair up and pick a room. That was a good sign.

Poking her head into the first room, she spotted Hailey, the shyest of the bunch, sitting on the edge of her bed, watching Townsend unpack. Townsend was kneeling in front of her own bed, facing the far wall. She removed two cartons of cigarettes, a fifth of vodka and another of gin, then set her contraband on the bedside table. “One word out of you, and I’ll cut your tongue out,” she growled, not even bothering to turn to see if the other girl was watching her.

Oh, hell no!

Hailey gasped when Hennessy swooped into the room and gathered up Townsend’s treasure trove in her arms. “Thanks for making this so easy,” she said, trying to sound flippant but shaking inside. Grabbing a pillow from the bed, she shook it out, and used the case to hold the illicit booty, all the while feeling a pair of green eyes staring holes through her.

If all of that was lying right on top, there had to be more. “What else do we have here?” She whisked Townsend’s bag from the bed, and removed a phone and a tablet computer. “Nice one,” Hennessy said.

Townsend attempted to snatch it back—to no avail.

“You can’t take my fucking phone! How can I talk to anyone?”

“We’re people, too, aren’t we, Hailey?” Hennessy smiled at the girl who was frozen in place. “Townsend can talk to us, right?”

Her head moved up and down, but it was clear she feared for her life.

“The rules say you can only use computers and phones in the rec bungalow. You can have visiting hours with your stuff—when I’ve decided that you’ve earned it. Of course, you’ll never get the liquor back. That will go to our camp director. She likes to have a gin and tonic once in a while.” Hefting the pillowcase over her shoulder, Hennessy started to leave the room, a sputtering Townsend glaring at her. “Be back in a few, guys. Time to replenish Mary Ann’s bar.”

Her hands were shaking when she stepped into the hazy, humid sun and grabbed her two-way to call Destiny. “Cigarettes, booze, a tablet, and a phone,” she said when Destiny’s voice crackled on the line. “I’m taking it all to Mary Ann. Just wanted to let you know.”

“All from the Bartley kid?”

“Sure enough. I expect kids to try to sneak a phone in, but this?”

“You’re gonna need an awfully big carrot, Hennessy. Or an extra large stick.”

Before she left for the cabin leaders’ meeting that night, Hennessy poked her head into each of the double rooms, checking on her charges. When she reached Hailey and Townsend’s room she looked at the sullen young woman sitting on her bed, fully dressed. Hennessy walked over and held out the tablet. “I appreciate that you made it to dinner on time, and came back to the cabin early. If you want to go over to the rec bungalow, you’re welcome to use it.”

Townsend turned up her nose. “Don’t do me any favors.”

“Okay. I won’t.” Hennessy turned to leave the room, but she stopped when Townsend spoke.

“The kid you’ve stuck me with told me you just graduated from high school.”

“I did.” She turned and faced Townsend. “And I didn’t stick her with you. You picked your own roommate.”

Townsend got up and moved to stand right in front of Hennessy. Her instinct was to back up, but showing this girl any sign of weakness was a mistake. So Hennessy stood a little taller and tried to project calm confidence.

“I want a new house leader. An adult. You’re barely a year older than me and I’m not about to be bossed around by another kid.”

“Can’t happen. All of the cabin leaders are around my age. But even if they weren’t, Mary Ann assigned you here and here you’ll stay.”

For just a moment, it looked like Townsend would raise a hand. But Hennessy stared her down, unblinking. For just a second, she thought of her grandaddy’s lesson about snakes. They didn’t really want to bite you, but they would if they thought that’d get you to leave them alone. Hennessy gulped when Townsend cursed quietly and went back to her bed, where she flopped down, facing the wall. That was a good sign. A really good sign. The kid had showed her rattle, but didn’t want to sink her fangs. At least, not tonight.

The next morning, Townsend lay in bed, deciding what to do for the day. Someone must have filled out her class preferences for her. The other dolts had been jabbering away like magpies about the struggle to get into the perfect slots. What horseshit! Like this crappy little camp in the middle of nowhere could teach any of them a damned thing. Her first choice was to blow it off and stay in bed, but with all of her stuff gone and no TV in the cabin, she’d be bored stiff.

After propping one ankle over a raised knee, she pondered her jailer. Hennessy claimed she had full authority to punish campers for being late or not doing assigned tasks. But there was no way the warden would let a kid do that. Expensive joints like this always went out of their way to kiss ass—not kick it. But Hennessy seemed pretty serious about the threat. And god knew there were few people she’d ever met who were more earnest. Finally getting up, Townsend got her stuff and sauntered into the bathroom to shower. There was no rush to test Hennessy’s resolve.

Townsend walked out into the already steaming hot morning, looking for something resembling a classroom building. Following a couple of girls to a cluster of cabins just beyond the mess hall, she noted that there was a sheet of paper attached to each door. She checked the list on the closest door, mulling over whether it would be fun to walk in and claim to be one Amanda Hartline. An image formed of a puzzled kid, defending her identity, along with an instructor who wasn’t sure who to believe. Kinda funny, but she chose to ditch the idea and play it straight. Too much work for this early in the day. After finding the correct cabin, she went in, flopped down in a chair, and gazed at the other students listlessly as they yakked away. At least the room wasn’t laid out like a regular classroom. More like a conference room, with comfortable, upholstered chairs set in a circle. Maybe she could nap.

At nine on the button, Hennessy strode into the classroom. Townsend closed her eyes and let her forehead smack into her hand. The warden had probably ordered her to check that all of her assigned inmates were where they were supposed to be.

“Morning, everyone. I’m Hennessy Boudreaux. Welcome to ‘Finding Your Voice.’”

Was this some kind of a joke? “I’ve found my goddamned voice!” Townsend jumped to her feet, fuming. “Why in the hell is some high school kid trying to teach me how to write? Do you have any idea who my birth mother is?”

Hennessy crooked a finger, beckoning Townsend to follow her outside.

Kicking her chair away, Townsend pushed past Hennessy, unable to get away from her fellow students fast enough. They stood in the hot sun, with Townsend raising her hand to shield her eyes from the glare. “Those little snots couldn’t be more than fourteen or fifteen! I’m almost seventeen!”

“I know that,” Hennessy said quietly. “You’re in this class because of your writing sample. We spent months looking over everyone’s work and tried to put you guys into groups based on your ability. Age is irrelevant.”

“Age is always relevant.” She turned and stared at the door. “You’re saying those kids are the most talented writers?”

“No, I didn’t say that.” Townsend could see her swallow. “I’m sorry to be so blunt, but your sample didn’t show much skill or promise. You write more like girls just entering high school than a senior.”

“I didn’t know I was supposed to do a good job!”

Hennessy quirked a slow smile. “You should always do a good job. Hasn’t anyone ever told you that?”

“You’re the first.” She leaned in, trying to make sure Hennessy heard every word. “My mother had me writing stories when most kids were still learning to tie their shoes. I tested at a high school vocabulary level when I was in second grade!”

“It’s not a contest to see who has the best vocabulary. Some of the best writers hardly ever use a multisyllabic word. It’s about how you put those words together—and your writing sample didn’t show you had a good idea of how to do that.”

“I could write rings around you and every other one of these
children
.”

“I’d like to see you try. Truly,” she added, her annoyingly encouraging smile enough to make Townsend blow chunks. “Andrea Jonas is going to teach the actual class. If you’d paid attention to the materials we sent out, you’d have seen I’m only leading the workshop.”

“What does that mean?”

“Your actual class time will mostly be lecture. In the workshop, we’ll read and critique each other’s work. Today I’m only going to explain the way we’ll run the class and give everyone some pointers. No big deal.”

She was just about to give this annoying kid a big chunk of her mind. Then she remembered it didn’t matter. “What the fuck do I care? I’m going to be on a plane this afternoon.”

“I think that’s enough for this morning,” Hennessy said after explaining the whole setup to the girls and taking questions. “Your first real class will be tomorrow at nine. It’s probably best to wait until then to start on your first assignment, but if you’re really anxious to get going I can tell you that you’re allowed to choose any topic at all for your first exercise. Try to limit it to around a thousand words. We don’t want the assignments to take too much of your time.”