Ann Martin - Mary Anne And Camp

In the next second, Jamie was sliding down the bowling lane after his ball.

"Let go!" Claudia shouted. "Jamie, let go."

Feeling like a person in a slapstick comedy, she ran after Jamie, who'd slid to a stop, belly down, a few feet down the alley. Just as he stopped, he let go of his ball. It rolled slowly — crept, really — down the alley.

"Jamie, are you okay?" gasped Claudia, trying not to laugh.

Jamie didn't move. He just lay in the lane, his eyes fixed on his snail-moving bowling ball.

Claudia glanced up.

Everyone was looking at them.

"Uh — Jamie,” she said.

A huge cheer broke out. Jamie's ball had knocked over all the pins!

What could Claudia do? She helped Jamie to his feet. Jamie clasped his hands over his head and walked proudly back to his seat. Everyone ran to congratulate him.

And Claudia and the rest of the sitters and chaperons spent what was left of the bowling trip trying to convince the other campers that Jamie's method of scoring a strike couldn't be used again.

Chapter 12.

"You sure you don't want to come with us? It's a drive-in movie and it's a really cool, funky old place that they've just reopened," Dawn said.

"I know, I know. You told me. Many times," I said. I was sitting in the den with the remote control for the television in my hand, flipping through the channels.

"It's a double feature," said Sharon. "Two good movies. Really good movies, not junk like last week."

"No, thank you," I said. "My foot hurts."

"You can just stay in the car," Dawn said. "I can get your snacks and stuff."

"No," I said flatly. Then I added reluctantly, "Thanks anyway."

"Maybe another time," said Sharon. "When you're feeling better.… Can I get you anything before I go?"

"There's juice in the refrigerator," I recited.

"And I can order whatever I want from the take-out places."

"Right," said Sharon after a tiny pause. "Well, see you later, Mary Anne."

" 'Bye," said Dawn.

"Mmm," I said, staring at the television. Not that I was interested in what was on. But I was in the world's meanest, foulest mood. I was in pain (well, I had been for the first couple of days), I was on crutches, and all Sharon and Dawn could think about was partying and being wild and crazy bachelor girls for the last week before my father came back. The night before they'd gone to the county fair and tried to persuade me to limp along with them.

"No," I said. "I don't want people banging into my foot."

I almost hated Sharon and Dawn. And my father.

How would they like it if they'd had a hurt foot and had been abandoned the way I had?

An old dinosaur movie came onto the screen. The dinosaur was stomping along, flattening everything in its path.

I settled back with a sigh. That was exactly how I felt.

Meanwhile, the last week of Camp BSC was roaring to a close. The circus act rehearsals were in high gear. Everyone was very, very

. excited about the big end-of-camp performance on Friday evening, "real" circus campers and regular campers both.

All the excitement meant that we were extra-careful to take the kids to the park to play every morning. It was important for them to let off some steam before they threw themselves heart and body (literally) into the circus rehearsals.

I couldn't go to the park. It would have taken forever for me to hobble over there on my crutches. And all that crutch-walking would have made my armpits even more sore than they already were.

Besides, I had to take care of Alicia, right?

Wrong.

On Wednesday, as the twenty-one campers divided into buddies and Claire said, "I don't have a partner," Alicia blurted out, "I'll be your buddy."

"What?" I exclaimed, before I could stop myself.

"Great, Alicia," said Claudia casually. "Is everybody ready, then?"

Of course I knew better than to make a big deal out of Alicia's sudden decision that it would be okay to go to the park, that she didn't have to wait around and make herself miserable until her mother came to pick her up.

I didn't say anything except, "Have fun, you guys."

But Alicia stopped and turned anyway. "I was missing all the fun," she said. "Everyone was having a good time without me."

"I'm glad you're going to the park, Alicia. Have a wonderful time."

Alicia smiled. "I will," she said happily, and ran to join Claire and her group.

I stood there and watched the members of Camp BSC disappear down the street.

And tried to think. Something Alicia had said was making a bell go off in my head: everyone was having a good time without me.

Everyone. Sharon and Dawn. Just like Alicia, I'd been missing out on all the fun. I missed my father. But then so did Sharon. And Dawn.

Missing him wasn't going to kill me. But acting like a baby — like a four-year-old — wasn't going to help me, or anyone else either.

What I should have done was make the best of the situation. It might not have helped the time pass faster, or my father come back any sooner, but it certainly would make things easier.

I could hardly wait to tell Mrs. Gianelli about Alicia's giant step forward.

But there was someone else I needed to talk

to, just as soon as Sharon came home from work that day.

"So I'm sorry. I should have talked to you a week and a half ago and told you how I was feeling. Instead I just acted like a baby."

Sharon smiled. "I'm glad you talked to me now, Mary Anne. And I don't think you are being a baby because you miss your father. I miss him, too. Sometimes I feel like having a tantrum and demanding that he come back." She paused and added, "And I expect that he feels the same way sometimes, too. That he wishes he could do something to make us join him instantly."

The idea of Sharon pitching a tantrum, Claire Pike-style, was pretty funny. The idea of my father doing something like that was impossible to imagine.

It made me smile.

"It's nice to see you smile, sweetheart."

"It feels pretty good," I said.

"Well, you've been through a lot these last couple of weeks. And it's true. Dawn and I have been, well, over-indulging in messiness."

"It's not so bad," I said, and I realized that it wasn't really. I mean, it wasn't as if things were going to stay that way. It was more as

if the house were on a vacation from being neat.

And that was fine. Things would return to boring old normal soon enough.

Vacations were what made the normal stuff nice. And vice versa.

I leaned over and gave Sharon a hug.

A moment later, Dawn bounced into my room. "Hey, listen to this! You know that drive-in movie? Well, it's changed features and it's got a new, totally super double feature playing ..."

Her voice trailed off. "Do you think you might like to come along, Mary Anne? I mean, I know your leg is hurting and all, but you could sit in the backseat and stretch it out."

"Sound good? It sounds great, in fact," I said. And I realized that it did. I suddenly wanted to laugh. But I didn't. I looked from Sharon to Dawn and said solemnly, "Do you think we can get take-out food delivered to the drive-in?"

Chapter 13.

If the dress rehearsal is a disaster, that means that the show is going to be a success.