Elaine Wolf - Camp

“Why don’t you find Rory and ask her whose dog it is?” Though I wasn’t angry with Nancy, I finally unmuzzled my rage.

“Amy!” my mother said.

“What? Rory did this, and she’s gonna pay.”

Charlie started to shake.

“Now look what you’ve done.” My mother reminded me this was my fault as much as Rory’s. If I hadn’t been showing off on the tennis court, maybe Rory wouldn’t have struck.

“Sonia, please, Sonia.” Then, as if Dad read my mind, he said, “None of this is Amy’s fault.”

Maybe he was right. Maybe Rory would have found a way to get Charlie no matter where I had been and what I had done. I turned to Nancy. “Rory and Robin can tell you whose dog they borrowed for this stunt, and where—”

“Amy!” My mother cut me off. “What in the world is wrong with you? What could Rory and your cousin have to do with that dog?”

I couldn’t stop myself. “What’s wrong with you , Mom? You think that dog just came out of nowhere?”

“Don’t use that tone on your mother, young lady.” My father made it clear I had gone too far.

“Amy, this isn’t getting us anywhere.” Nancy sounded annoyed, like when I hadn’t told her about Rory emptying my trunk. But now things were different. This time I wanted to tell—no, needed to tell—and no one would listen. “I think we’re upsetting your brother even more,” Nancy said. “So I’m going to go take care of this. I’ll be back.”

“Find Rory,” I called after her, issuing the order as if I were the one with a clipboard. “Ask her whose dog she borrowed.”

Charlie trembled in my arms as I spoke, though his crying weakened. “Get down now, son,” my father told him.

“No.”

“Come on, Charlie.” My father tried to coax him from me. “That dog can’t get you anymore.”

“No. No!” Charlie’s arms tightened around me as Uncle Ed approached. No wink, just a subtle shake of his head. And not a word to my mother as my uncle pulled my father behind the far court. I didn’t care anymore what he might say about me. All I wanted was for my mother to know the truth. All I wanted was for Rory to be punished.

I thought I heard laughter. I looked in the direction of the dog, Erin and her parents restraining it, the spaniel nothing but a playful pup. And skipping toward it, Rory, Robin, and Susie Barr, one of Robin’s bunkmates. “Well, there you are, Tiger,” Susie sang out. “We thought we’d lost you.”

“Oh, hi, Mrs. Becker,” Rory shouted as if surprised to see us. “Hope Susie’s dog wasn’t a problem. Her parents are visiting in her sister’s bunk, so we took Tiger for a walk. He loves little kids. And somehow he just got loose. We’ve been looking all over for him.” Rory broke away from her friends and stepped closer to us.

I worked Charlie’s arms from my neck and lowered him to his feet. He didn’t resist, didn’t cry out or shake. He just stood like a twig.

“You’re a stupid liar, Rory!” I screamed, hoping everyone would hear me. “Stay away from my family! Stay away from me!” I needed to hit something, but there was nothing to punch. I picked up a pinecone and threw it at Rory’s chest.

“Amy!” my mother shouted as Rory laughed.

I pounded my thighs while Rory sauntered behind us toward Jessica and her parents, at the side of the tennis courts. “ She did this to Charlie,” I said. “She told me she would get him. That’s why I sent that letter.” My words flowed, unstoppable now. “That’s why I didn’t want Charlie to visit.”

I couldn’t guess what made him run then. Was it my anger? What I said? I didn’t know exactly what Charlie understood that day. He raced off as if he suddenly realized I couldn’t protect him anymore, breaking the thread that had tied us together. He zoomed away before my mother or I could grab him. He ran smack into Uncle Ed.

I wasn’t the only one who watched my uncle lift Charlie and hold him out as if he were a stranger’s baby with a dirty diaper. Rory stopped before she reached Jessica’s family. She studied Charlie as his fists punched the air and his legs kicked hard. With Charlie’s back to me, I didn’t see my brother’s face, but I knew what Rory saw. I had seen it in a photo my father had shown me, a picture he kept in his night table drawer: an old photo of himself and his little brother Eddie. When my father showed it to me, I felt him slide into the past—to that stoop in Brooklyn, where he’d sat with a hand on his kid brother’s shoulder. “Lucky Charlie,” my father had said to me as he shook off the memory. “He’s got those handsome Becker genes like your Uncle Ed.”

“Put him down,” my mother called now to my uncle. I stepped in Charlie’s direction, but my mother forced me back. “Your father will handle this.”

Dad took Charlie and hugged him close, Charlie limp in his arms. Only then did my mother and I move toward them. I placed my hand on my brother’s back and tried to rub trust into him again. “I’m so sorry, buddy,” I whispered.

Uncle Ed didn’t hug my mother when he told her it was time for my parents to take Charlie home. I watched my uncle approach the Hollanders. They hustled Erin away on what must have been Uncle Ed’s command. No sign of the dog or Robin. No sighting of Rory.

“Please get my racquet, Ame.” My father sounded as if he could sleep for a week. “And then walk us to the car.”

“Ed has no right to make us go early,” my mother said. “What will everyone think if we don’t stay for the afternoon?” It didn’t surprise me that she seemed more concerned about what others would think than she was about Charlie or me. Couldn’t she see he was wiped out by fear? And didn’t she care about leaving me without visitors for the afternoon?

“This is Ed’s camp,” my father reminded her. “And it doesn’t matter what everyone thinks.”

Charlie’s vacant gaze told me his visit had already ended. I let myself cry when I picked up my father’s tennis racquet. I hadn’t pushed the witch into the oven. I hadn’t saved my brother.

We walked slowly to the car, Charlie between my father and me. Charlie’s hand felt like rubber in mine. His head bowed in defeat. My mother stepped behind us. She carried the canvas bag she’d been toting around, packed with bathing suits and towels.

“Let me go home with you. Please, Dad.” The words tumbled out. “I hate camp. I don’t want to stay here.”

“I know you’ve had a hard time, honey. Uncle Ed told me you’ve had problems adjusting. But I don’t understand why you said you were having fun.”

How could I tell him that I had needed my mother to think I was popular, and that I hadn’t wanted to upset him with the truth? “I don’t know,” I answered, sniffling back tears. “But I’m telling the truth now, Dad. I hate this place! I hate Rory! I just want to go home.”

“Did you ask to go home?” My mother hadn’t missed a word.

“Please, Sonia. Let me take care of this. You don’t know what Ed told me.”

“I don’t care what Ed told you. Amy has to learn to make friends. She can’t just come home.” My mother moved next to Dad and talked to him as if I had already gone back to the cabin. “She has to learn to be friends with the right people, people who can help her get ahead in this world.”

“Please, Dad,” I tried again in my smallest voice. “Please take me home.”

My mother wouldn’t quit. “I told you before, Amy, you have to get along with all kinds of people to survive. And Rory doesn’t seem nearly as bad as you make her out to be.”

“Just try to enjoy the second half of the summer,” my father said, telling me my mother had already given her ruling. “I understand why you want to come home, Ame, but your mother knows what she’s talking about. You have to learn to deal with the Rorys in this world. If your mother hadn’t known that, she might not be here today.