Camp Nurse (20 page)

Parents gathered around Coach Carson, bombarding him with their concerns, queries about their child’s activities, requests to change cabins or counsellors, or to voice indignant complaints.

“My son had no pillowcase. Why didn’t the counsellor see that?”

The counsellor probably didn’t have one on his own pillow, I thought. I admired Carson’s tactful restraint. He listened quietly even when a parent angrily cornered him. “There was a disgusting four-letter word on the wall of my kid’s cabin. Is there no cleanup crew?”

Many parents also stopped by to tell Coach Carson and Wendy what a wonderful time their kid was having and what a great operation they were running. Perhaps it all evened out, complaints versus compliments.

“I love it when they’re at camp,” I overheard one mother say about her teenagers. “I don’t have to worry about them. I know they’re safe. My boys are telling me they don’t want to come back next summer, but I told them I’d pay
them
– as well as the camp fees – if they’ll just keep coming.”

“I wish my son would do school as well as he does camp,” a father said.

“Don’t worry,” Coach Carson said. “Camp is more important than school.”

It was time for lunch. A sumptuous buffet was laid out. There were salads, sushi, and multigrain wraps filled with grilled veggies or smoked salmon and goat cheese. For dessert there were pastries and strawberries dipped in chocolate.

But outside the dining hall, on the front lawn, missing out on this feast, were Hailey and her parents, engaged in a furious
stand-off. There were two separate combat zones: Hailey versus her mother on one side, and Hailey versus her father on the other. I went over to introduce myself, but Hailey was in the midst of arguing with her father, whom, when she addressed him at all, she called by his name, Douglas. Her mother, Eileen, whispered to me, “Hailey and I used to be so close, but she completely changed in the past few months. The boyfriend turned her against me. She’s become cold and distant, like her father.”

Douglas turned to me. “I don’t know what she” – he pointed at Eileen – “has told you, but did Hailey tell you why we sent her to camp? I’m sure she didn’t mention it was punishment for a certain house party when the police were called. We’re still repairing the damage. Hailey is a liar. If I were you, I wouldn’t believe a word she says, or her mother, either.” He looked away in disgust. “This is a girl who has raised money for the starving children of Darfur and rescues abandoned cats, but treats her own parents like dirt.” He pointed his finger at Hailey. “You are not coming home. You will stay here until the end of the summer. Case closed.”

“Please stay, Hailey,” Eileen begged. “Be good.”

“Why don’t you two just get a divorce? Get it over with.” Hailey spat the words at them. “You hate each other, admit it.”

No one would ever win this argument. I left them to duke it out themselves.

Toward the end of the day, Alexa Rose and her brother T.C. returned to camp with their parents. I immediately recognized their mother and her shrill voice. She was talking in an agitated way to Wendy. I went over to see if I could help.

“Someone stole my daughter’s sunglasses!”

“We can’t take responsibility for valuables brought to camp,” Wendy countered.

“But they were stolen, here at camp. Alexa Rose told me the girls in her cabin have been touching her things. I’m expecting your insurance to reimburse us.”

“Have you looked in your sunglass case?” I asked Alexa Rose. “Your glasses were left out on the bed and I put them in there last week so they wouldn’t get broken or lost.”

Wendy flashed me a grateful look.

Alexa Rose’s mother and father were ready to take her home.

“Baby doll, shall we pack up your things?”

“I want to stay,” she said, surprising us all. It was as if all she needed was that small dose of her parents. She must have decided that camp wasn’t so bad after all.

Her mother put her arm around her daughter and hugged her close. “My girl – she’s a keeper, all right!” Next, she hugged me. “Thank you for taking care of my children! It’s so hard to say goodbye. I’m a Pisces and we have issues with separation.” She gave herself a few drops of Rescue Remedy.

If this Visitor’s Day goes on much longer, I’m going to need a swig of that Rescue Remedy myself
.

Next, I went back to Hailey and her parents, who were now taking up their problem with Coach Carson.

“Hailey takes after her father,” Eileen was saying. “She doesn’t express her feelings, just keeps everything bottled up.”

“She’s been very expressive about her unhappiness at camp,” I said.

“For so many years she loved this camp, and now she’s completely changed. I hardly know her. What’s happened, Hailey?” She turned to her daughter and looked into her pale face and dark eyes.

“Eileen, face it,” Hailey spat out, “when are you going to come clean about the boyfriend? You’re nothing more than a whore. Douglas is an alcoholic.” She turned away from them.

“When you get back from camp, do you want to see the therapist again?” Eileen asked. “The nice one, the one you liked?”

Hailey pointed her chin at me. “Her. She’s the only one I’ll talk to. The nurse.”

Coach Carson told Douglas and Eileen about the prank Hailey had pulled stealing the medications. He warned them that another stunt like that would get her kicked out of camp.

“Why are dangerous medications being left lying around?” Douglas demanded to know. “That’s asking for trouble. Anyone could have taken them, not just Hailey. Why should we be held responsible for
your
negligence?”

Coach Carson was silent.

“Hailey, you’re staying,” her father said. He pointed his car key at her. “If you come home now, that would just be one more failure.” He jangled the keys. “I paid for this camp for the full session. Case closed. Carson, you keep her here.”

Coach Carson shrugged and offered his handshake as a pledge that he’d do just that.

“I hate you! I hate you both!” Hailey screamed and ran off, sobbing.

“She’s been given everything,” Eileen said to me quietly. “I stayed home, I didn’t work. She’s had trips, private school. I don’t understand.”

Later, Hailey came to find me. Her mascara and eyeliner were smudged and she looked so vulnerable, but she spoke more resolutely than ever.

“I’ll hurt myself if I have to. I’ll do whatever it takes. I want to see the doctor so I can ask him how I can kill myself. What if I stop eating and drinking? How long would it take to get dehydrated?”

“You will feel the symptoms within twenty-four hours. Sooner if it stays hot.”

“Will that get me home?”

“No, it will get you admitted to the hospital. Hailey, I don’t see any way out for you. If you think you might hurt yourself, I’m going to have to keep you on constant watch. You’ve got three more weeks here. Isn’t there something – anything – you
could do to get you through it? Isn’t there anything here you enjoy that you could focus on?”

She had no intention of considering the possibility of enjoyment. Her focus was now on escape. She stared at me in disgust as if I had gone over to their side and betrayed her. “There is no way I will enjoy this place. I hate everything and everyone here. Believe me, everyone hates me, too.”

“I like you,” I smiled at her. By then, I really did.

“Yeah, right.”

“I mean it.”

“You wouldn’t if you really knew me.”

I had to laugh at that. “I admire you and I like your clothes. They must have a lot of meaning for you.”

She nodded thanks and looked away.

“It takes a lot of courage to be true to yourself, especially here at camp, where everyone is supposed to fit in.”

“You
do
understand! Then why won’t you help me get out of here?”

What Hailey couldn’t possibly know and wasn’t appropriate to tell her, was that I knew exactly how she felt. Hailey and I had more in common than she realized: we were both on the fringes, each for our different reasons.

I met Samantha’s mother, Veronica. She was absolutely stunning, model-thin in tight jeans, with manicured fingernails and wearing tasteful jewellery and makeup. She had difficulty manoeuvring around the grassy terrain of camp in her high-heeled slides, with her frail, skinny daughter hanging on to her. Of course she noticed Samantha’s dramatic weight loss (it had been only ten pounds, but Samantha was already so thin that she couldn’t afford to lose
any
weight), but her child’s appearance seemed to embarrass her. She blamed the camp food. “She’s a
picky eater. Other than that, Samantha is a perfect child. She’s a champion swimmer. An A-student. She’s always been so easy. In fourteen years, I’ve hardly had to do anything for her. She says that something has been bothering her, but now she’s feeling a lot better and wants to stay at camp.”

I stayed quiet about my disagreement with that decision. Samantha’s condition was precarious and she desperately needed psychiatric help. Camp simply wasn’t the place for her right now, in this condition, but no one saw it as I did.

Wayne and his parents were easy to spot. The resemblance to their skinny, nearsighted son was uncanny, right down to the same stiff mop of hair. Despite so many difficulties he’d endured, camp had been good for him. He had withstood the bullying and survived. Did he realize how much he’d achieved, how strong he was? I wanted to go over and tell him but he was busy with his parents. They were very sweet and doting as they said their goodbyes, so I left them alone, especially when I saw Wayne holding back tears. Besides, if I’d gone over, I’d have started crying, too.

Visitor’s Day was drawing to an anticlimactic, exhausting close when I came upon two brothers wandering around aimlessly. Somehow in the commotion, no one had noticed that their parents hadn’t shown up all day.

“I told Jason, Mom probably won’t be able to come,” the older boy told me. “She’s an artist –
enormously talented
, everyone says so – and probably had to go to Paris, but Dad should be here any minute.” He kept scanning the path that led from the parking area at the entrance of camp.

I went to the office and called the father’s cell number. He was in Los Angeles working on a film shoot. “Tell the boys I’ll try to make it up this week sometime. That is, if Carson’ll let me in after Visitor’s Day,” he added. “Their mother, the famous
artiste
– she’s
enormously talented
, I’ll give her that – must have forgotten to tell
me. Please buy them something extra from the tuck shop and add it to our bill.”

I went to tell the kids and they seemed okay with that.

The long day still wasn’t over, but it had begun to wind down as kids slowly accompanied their parents to their cars. Then, even some of the happiest of campers started losing it. Some clung to their parents and said goodbye reluctantly, with tearful faces. Others ran off, sobbing.

“I love camp,” one boy told me. “I do,” he added, as if to remind himself as he waved goodbye to his parents and wiped away tears.

Another boy hung back, looking shell-shocked. He had expected to stay for the entire summer, but now his parents had packed his bags and were taking him home.

“His father’s company went bankrupt and we can’t afford it,” his mother explained to me tearfully. They had sold the house and were moving into an apartment.

One boy stood in between his parents, crying. He had been perfectly happy at camp, but after seeing his parents he wanted to go home with them.

“You are working yourself up into a state,” his mother said as she headed for the car. “You know you love camp.” She rushed to catch up with her husband who was already starting up the car. He opened the window and the boy leaned in, sobbing. “I want to go home.”

“You brought this on yourself, son,” he said, shifting into drive. “You’ve talked yourself into it. Come on now, be brave.”

The scene was breaking my heart. I watched as the boy wiped his eyes and stumbled back from the car as it pulled away. The parents waved goodbye out their windows. They weren’t being cruel, and the boy wasn’t acting up on purpose. They were trying to teach their son a lesson, and he, in turn, was trying to deal with the difficult situation. It was hard all around. I went over
to him and put my arm around him, but he shrugged me off and walked away, preferring to collect himself on his own.

I also saw just as many other children who had gotten their fill of whatever they’d been missing from their parents and who were very pleased to return to their cabin and counsellor and to be at camp. Some were even asking to extend their stay.

“Sure, I miss my parents,” one kid cheerfully told me after saying goodbye to his parents, “but I’m not homesick.”

“What’s the difference?”

“I’ve seen them. They can go. I’m good now.”

By the end of the afternoon, Visitor’s Day was officially over. It was just as well, as everyone was thoroughly overwrought, some laughing, some crying, some doing both. That night, dinner was quiet, and when the campers heard that there would be a dreaded e.t.b., they were too tired to raise their usual objections. Everyone was emotionally drained and down in the dumps. I wondered out loud if Visitor’s Day was such a great idea, after all. “Do we really need it?”

“Didn’t you see how proud the kids are of their camp, how they love to show off all they’ve learned?” Coach Carson said. “Besides, we have to have Visitor’s Day so the parents can sign up to guarantee them a spot for next summer. We have a ninety-four-percent return rate!”

“But there’s such a drop in everyone’s mood. How’re we going to pick them up?”

He smiled and patted my shoulder. “I wouldn’t worry about it if I were you. It’s been taken care of. Just wait and see.”

That night I was woken from a deep sleep by shouts and screams. I bolted upright in bed. There was banging and clanging and then, of all things, marching-band music! I jumped up and dressed quickly. What was going on? A parade? A carnival?
Armageddon?