Short Story Excerpt #2
Your temporary worst fear animates directly in front of you, gory on the screen: you are, somehow, the only person who has not been to this camp before. Some people have only been here once, others a few times - there's one girl who has been coming here every summer since she was six!! --but all of them navigate the area with a familiarity you only find in very few aspects of life.
They're all very kind about it. No one is pointedly rude -- it makes sense, you suppose. In reality, not knowing your way around a place that is new to you isn't embarrassing to anyone besides the person experiencing it firsthand. It might even be normal -- you aren't sure you'd go that far. It's certainly nothing to second-guess, triple-guess, to guess over for so long that the flavor fades into the texture like stale bubblegum. It's really not a big deal.
And, yet.
The camp counselors can sense your discomfort. It's decided after a quick off-to-the-side whisper match: buddy system! No one else is being paired up. A two-person-wide buddy system -- a system that feels closer, a system that honestly feels more like destiny than arrangement. The moment they present you in front of River Kerr, you watch her eyes widen and her smile part even wider, a beam like sun ray. She's missing her right front tooth.
"River," says the counselor. "She's new here, and you know this place-probably better than anyone else including us. Would you mind showing her the ropes?"
River nods with enthusiasm. "Mm-hmm!"
She pauses to process the request, her expression a window into her factory of thought. "What ropes?"
The counselor grins. "Ah, no, I meant I just need you to help her find her way around, okay? Make sure she doesn't get lost, teach her how things work around here, you know."
"Oh! Oh, yeah. I can do that."
And you're left alone - together - alone. The lead camp counselor walks away With gentleness and expectation and still the looming harsh awkwardness of inexperience.
She doesn't seem to notice.
"Hey, so, I'm River," she says, turning to you. Her smile is relentless - not the right word, not a word you should parse at such a young age but again you're ancient, again there are things about yourself you don't understand quite yet. Erase! Attempt number two. Her smile is comforting. It's permanent. It's not the kind of smile an adult gives you when you can tell they're annoyed and exhausted with you.
They tell you that you are more observant than other kids your age -- this is another fact that won't load completely right now, a code you are devoted to deciphering. You know what you see even in the rare moments you lack the vocabulary to explain it. There's nothing that can describe her essence. What you see is -- well. You see truth in the tooth gap that mirrors your own and you see authenticity in how only one side of her face is touched by freckles and the observation that aches the most... is the familiarity, that old thing.
"I come here a lot," she continues with a brush of giggle. "I live pretty close. So, yeah, I'm definitely the best person to help." River leans in, a confession. "Sometimes I think it kind of scares them. I know more about this campground than the people who own it."
"That's really cool," you manage. "How'd you get to know so much about it?"
River shrugs. "I don't know really. I used to be afraid of the world-mom calls it, um, what I had, was like-" she feels the word out phonetically "ayy-nn--siety or something. I'm not the best at spelling yet but I did get over my a-ay- that by just walking around the camp a lot. I learned about like, the kind of plants and animals and stuff that live here." She points to the ground. A small spread of grass. "Like, that one's curly mesquite grass," she continues, pronouncing the words perfectly. "Anyway, I got over it after I walked over the entire thing like ten times. Now I love outside."
"Whoa," you breathe. It escapes you. She's really impressive. You want to be her friend. You could see yourself being friends with River for many years, if you could find the bravery. Maybe you just have to mirror River, maybe the secret to healing is furthering familiarity. Maybe you just have to walk around this friendship for a while, discover and analyze each aspect of it, set up your tent and escape for a bit underneath the stars. Maybe, if you let your eyes adjust and stop feeling around in the dark with your eyes shut because you're scared of it even in its fleeting nature-maybe you'll discover that you've known the answers all along.
And then River fastens the safety precautions, protects you. Buckles you into this path. You're going to make it. "So, anyway," she says. "Do you wanna be friends?"