Janice Carter - Her Kind Of Hero

He took another deep breath. “It is.” He waited a moment, then said, “I’ll show you the other cabins.”

He led the way to two other wood-frame buildings. “These were built a few years after the couple who owned the place bought it, so they’re at the top of our list of necessary repairs.” He thought he saw a slight shiver as she eyed them. “They’re not too bad inside. The newer cabin we were just in was for the girls, and that one there is for the boys. The washroom cabin behind them is divided into girls’ and boys’ sides. All the necessary conveniences but just—”

“Outside.”

“Well, it is a camp,” he pointed out.

“Shall we get to the lake?”

“Fine. Let’s get to the lake.” And get the day over with. He strode ahead, circled behind the lodge, trotted down the slope and stopped at the graveled edge of Maple Lake. The still, glistening water helped calm him. You can end this right now , he told himself. It was a dumb idea. Accept that and get on with things.

He waited for her to catch her breath when she caught up to him. “I was going to say that you don’t owe me anything,” he began, “because, to be honest, this whole idea of your helping out here was impulsive. I never really expected you to take me up on it and there’s no shame in simply telling me you’d rather not do this. We can call it a day right now and I’ll drive you back to the city. Okay?”

A band of red rose up from the base of her throat into her face. She turned away, but not before he saw her swallow hard, tightening her jaw and blinking. Matt bent down to pick up a couple of smooth pebbles and skimmed one across the water. He figured he ought to have told her all that earlier, on the way to the camp. But then he’d still had some hope that she’d rise to his challenge.

“That day,” she finally said, her voice settling into a steady coolness, “I was on my way to Oak Park to see our old house. The one I lived in until my mother died.”

Matt dropped the second stone.

“I’d just transferred to a new school and...and things weren’t going well. It was the third school in a year and my father... Well...he was running out of patience. There’d been an incident that morning. Some girls were spreading stories about me. I’d planned to confront them and tell them how mean they were. But one of them started to laugh and I cried instead.”

The naked emotion in her face made him look away. He suddenly thought of Rosie and the trouble she’d had at school years ago, when she’d been newly diagnosed.

“So I left school at lunchtime and wandered around the neighborhood for a bit. I couldn’t go home because I knew our housekeeper would ask a lot of questions that I didn’t feel like answering. Then I had the idea of going out to Oak Park to visit the place where I had been happy...” Her voice drifted off.

If she’d been a friend, Matt would have hugged her. But he knew that she needed to tell her story and that he wanted to hear it.

“Anyway, I didn’t know any of those kids on the platform. But when I was going through the turnstile, I accidentally stepped on a girl’s foot. I tried to apologize, but she kept yelling that I was disrespectful.”

“Showing off for her friends,” Matt put in.

“I guess.” Dana looked his way. “I thought if I just ignored her, she’d figure out I was no threat and leave me alone. But when I got down to the platform, she gave me a hard push.”

“She couldn’t afford to lose face with her buddies.”

“I can see you know teenagers.”

“Well, I was one myself once.”

“But not like those kids.”

Matt stared out across the lake. Maybe not quite like them.

“Anyway, you know the rest of that story. But the whole way home, I was thinking about what happened and especially about what might have happened,” she went on.

You and me both.

“I decided I was never going to let myself be bullied again, even if it meant I was doomed to be a complete loner at school. And I was for the rest of my high school years. I made myself toughen up. I finally did just what my father had been wanting me to do.”

Now he really wanted to hug her, but instead he said, “I didn’t mean to sound angry back there. I’m a bit sensitive when it comes to Camp Hope. It was my dream for a long time and now that I’ve finally managed to make it happen...well...hearing anything that seems like skepticism makes me overreact sometimes.” He paused, watching her take this in, then added, “But seriously, I’m letting you off the hook.”

“ No. What I’m trying to say is that I know sometimes I can be... That...sometimes I come across as...”

“Dana,” he said, reaching out for her hand, “be kind to yourself. You had an awful experience—a life-threatening one. You no longer have to prove anything to anyone, least of all me. It’s all right. I’m happy to have met you and... Well...I can take you home.”

She shook her head, slipping her hand out of his. “No, Matt. I need to do this. I will rise to the challenge. You’ll see.”

His held her gaze, unable to think of a single thing to say. But he felt a lightness flare briefly inside. “Then I guess we should get back to the cabins...and those bunk beds.”

DANA SANK BENEATH the billowy foam in her bath, leaned against the end of the tub and let out a long sigh. But her fatigue wasn’t physical. Hiking and running had been part of her life since high school. Her father had encouraged a full regimen of athletics, part of his “get tough” campaign. And after that day on the subway, Dana had accepted the challenge with determination.

No, her exhaustion was a result of her inner turmoil, rather than making up twenty-two beds. She wondered who’d be in charge of the boys’ cabin. Matt? She felt an unexpected pleasure at the thought of him mere yards away.

The whole time she was working, she was thinking of him and the way he didn’t interrupt her or dole out meaningless phrases of sympathy. He simply let her talk, and although that day had played like a horrifying video in her head for years, she’d never actually talked about it to anyone. It was fitting that the first person to hear her pathetic story was Matt. His hand wrapped around hers had given her the courage to go on. The strength and reassurance of that grasp stayed with her the rest of the day at Camp Hope.

After she’d made up the beds, he’d helped her sweep, then mop the floors in both cabins. She’d thought he might open up while they were working and tell her something of that day from his perspective, or even about his life afterward. But the talk had been mainly outlining the agenda for the next day’s meeting at the camp. Something was obviously on his mind during the ride back to the city, and he’d fallen into a long silence.

She sat up and rinsed off the puffs of foam on her arms and chest. She’d noticed that Sandro hadn’t been happy about her volunteering, though she couldn’t be certain if his upset had been directed at her or Matt. Not that she cared. Many people made assumptions about her abilities or character merely based on appearance. She understood how and why those opinions were formed. After that day, she’d learned to dismiss those people the way they dismissed her. She didn’t need them in her life anyway.

Matt was different, though she couldn’t explain why. When he was showing her around the camp, she saw that his pride blinded him to the negative aspects she couldn’t help pointing out. Her attempt to help had been interpreted as nit-picking. But for twenty years he’d been her hero and though he obviously drew the same conclusions about her that Sandro had, she needed to prove him wrong.