Ann Martin - Mary Anne And Camp

But circus rebellion and Alicia's adjustment problems aside, it had been a pretty good day. It looked as if Camp BSC was going to be a stupendous success.

Chapter 5.

"No, no, no, noooooo!"

Alicia Gianelli looked like the perfect camper. Her white sneakers were spotless and so were her white socks with lavender trim that matched the lavender stripes on the side of her navy blue shorts. She was wearing a navy and lavender and white striped T-shirt and carrying a safety-orange backpack. Until a moment ago, she'd been holding her lunch in a dinosaur-decorated insulated lunch bag.

But when her mother had turned to go, Alicia had dropped the lunch bag and the appearance of being a perfect camper and flung herself at her mother to clutch her knees.

"Noo, don't gooooo!" Alicia wailed.

Poor Alicia. I knew that Mrs. Gianelli had explained about camp to her. So had I. So had Claudia. And Mal. And Jessi. And Dawn. And Kristy. And Shannon. And Logan.

Everyone in the BSC had tried to convince Alicia that she didn't need to worry. That her mother was coming back — just as she had come back every single day, all four days, since Camp BSC had been in session.

Alicia had nodded. And continued to cling to her mother desperately every single day when Mrs. Gianelli had tried to leave Camp BSC.

"Oh, Alicia," I said softly. I bent over and smoothed her soft, dark hair.

Alicia shook her head angrily. "No!"

"No way, huh?" asked Mal.

Mrs. Gianelli bent over and unwound Alicia's arms. "Come on, Alicia. I'll walk with you to your table."

Still sniffling, Alicia allowed herself to be led to the table. "We have some new circus books here," said Mal. "Look at this one. It's got a camel in it. You like camels, don't you?"

Alicia reached for the book.

Mal looked up. "I think you can go now," she said softly.

"Well…" Mrs. Gianelli hesitated. Nearby, Bobby had already forgotten about his mother and was involved in a lion roaring contest with Ricky.

"You don't have to," I said quickly.

"Neat camel, Alicia," said Claudia, who'd

arrived with some more crayons and paper for Alicia's table. "Want to try to draw one?"

Alicia took the crayons from Claudia and began to sort them into piles of similar colors on the table. Claudia looked up at Mrs. Gianelli. "She'll be fine. Don't worry."

Reassured, Mrs. Gianelli nodded and strode across the grass to her car. Alicia, oblivious to the stains of the tears drying on her cheeks, bent over the crayons and her book, studying them intently.

"Poor Alicia," I said softly to Mal as she stood beside me. "It seems mean to trick her."

"Maybe," said Mal. "But once she starts having a good time, I don't think she really misses her mom all that much. You know, some of that crying and carrying on is probably just habit."

I looked at Mal and shook my head. How could she be so unfeeling? Maybe being the oldest in a large family did that to you.

And she was wrong, as Alicia clearly demonstrated when we got ready for our morning trip to the park.

The moment it was mentioned, Alicia began to cry. "Mommy," she whimpered. "What if Mommy can't find me?"

Bobby, with all the callous superiority of an older brother, said, "You are such a baby, Alicia. You think Mom's dumb? Of course she can find us."

"Bobby!" I said. I bent over and gave Alicia, who was staring at her brother's retreating back, a big hug. "Of course your mommy can find you. But if you don't want to go to the park, you don't have to. We can stay right here."

"Mary Anne." I looked up to see Logan standing beside me.

"What?"

"Do you think that's a good idea?" asked Logan. "Giving in like that?"

Honestly, what was the matter with everybody? I know I'm supposed to be very sensitive, but it only took an average amount of sensitivity, a human amount, to realize what Alicia was going through.

Something in my expression must have alerted Logan to how completely indignant I was feeling, because instead of waiting for an answer, he raised one hand. "Just a thought," he said quickly. "Maybe you're right. Maybe she's not ready yet. It'll probably take a little more time."

"Probably," I said shortly.

Everyone else went to the park. Alicia and I stayed behind.

After the Camp BSCers returned and we'd eaten lunch and had quiet time, we got down to circus business.

"Rehearsals!" Kristy called, holding her clipboard and blowing a whistle. Everyone began to talk at once.

"Roustabouts, over here," said Dawn. "Roustabouts" is the name for circus people who help do all kinds of things. Our roustabouts, Vanessa, Nicky, Linny, Haley, and Carolyn were helping Dawn and Logan move bales of hay to the level field behind the barn where they were setting up the ring.

Jessi gathered the animal dancers together for the animal dance she was helping them choreograph.

Claudia called the wild animals for the wild animal act over to her. She was going to help them work on costumes until the animal trainers — Nicky and Marilyn — had finished being roustabouts.

Kristy and Shannon and the downs went to the far side of the barn to begin practicing their routine. When Claudia had started the animal costumes, she was going to help the downs with theirs.

Mal and I were in charge of the specialty acts and costumes. The specialty acts were going to include some of the campers' pets

(we were going to have a couple of special "pet days" for the rehearsals). We hadn't quite decided what the other acts were going to be.

But then, some of the campers hadn't quite decided how they were going to fit into the circus. Or even if they wanted to.

There'd been a sort of division in Camp BSC since the first day, a natural division, really. The kids who went to Stoneybrook Academy were hanging out together and choosing each other for sides in kickball games and things like that. And the kids from Stoneybrook Elementary School were doing the same thing. It wasn't really conscious and it wasn't severe. It was just a pattern that we'd noticed, but we had decided to try to keep the kids from getting too entrenched in it.

We'd been assigning different people to be buddies every day, sitting the kids at different tables at lunch, and trying to make sure they didn't divide into cliques. So far, no problem.

Except for one thing. The kids who had gone to circus camp all happened to be Stoneybrook Academy kids. And they were not wildly enthusiastic about the circus idea. Karen had declared the plan babyish and had quickly won over Hannie and Nancy, along with Ricky, Bobby, Natalie, and Chris. They were very

vocal about how silly they thought those plans were.

Those were the same kids who were standing in front of me now.

"Okay, guys," said Mal. "Are you all going to be specialty acts? Or what?"

Karen folded her arms. “This is dumb," she said. "Ricky thinks so, too, don't you, Ricky?"

Ricky nodded. Ricky often goes along with Karen.

But then, so do her two other best friends, Nancy and Hannie, who were also nodding. Bobby and Chris didn't look quite so scornful.

"Excellent! Great work, clowns. David Michael, Carolyn. Very natural. It didn't even look like you meant to run into each other!" Kristy's voice came to us clearly from the side of the barn.