practicing.”
Marlee hung her head and drew a pattern in the grass with her big toe. “You think that’s all there is to it?”
“You won’t know if you don’t try.”
“I don’t know . . .”
“We could go try right now. I can help, and so will the others.”
“They hate me.”
“Wrong. They may hate the way you act, but they don’t really know
you
.”
“I’m pretty forgettable.”
Dawn put her arm around Marlee’s thin shoulders. “You’re a lot of things, Marlee Hodges, but forgettable isn’t one of them.”
Marlee tipped her head back and studied Dawn through one partially closed eyelid. The other lid drooped noticeably over her glass eye. “You’re not just saying that to butter me up, are you?”
Dawn laughed over Marlee’s sudden turn to dry humor. “I’ve only got two more days to make sure you have a good time,” she said, leading Marlee up the porch steps toward the cabin where the others could be heard joking over newly made-up faces. “You can’t let my very first job as a CIT be a failure.”
The door banged shut behind them as they walked out of the night and into the light.
Ten
D AWN considered that night a turning point for Marlee. She had gone back inside the cabin and let Dawn apply the cosmetics, including eyeliner and mascara. Marlee tried on one of Fran’s wigs and one of Cindy’s outfits. And in the end, the results had been dramatic.
“You look super,” Dawn told her. And she meant it.
But the biggest benefit was that the evening had built a bridge between Marlee and the other girls. Not that Marlee became Little Miss Sunshine, but she did lighten up. She was less critical of people and camp activities. She made her bed each morning and actually participated in arts and crafts. The others invited her to sit with them during meals and included her in their discussions after lights-out.
Dawn felt pleased with the way things were going and faced Friday, the last full day of camp and the Junior Olympics, with mixed emotions. On the one hand, she was anxious to get home and get on with her summer. On the other, it was going to be hard to say goodbye to everyone.
Area reporters and a TV crew showed up to cover the games. Overall, Dawn’s girls did well in the individual events. They won the egg toss—Paige turned out to be an ace-egg-heaver with her one arm—and placed third in the mushy oatmeal pass. Yet the big finale—the Great American Tug of War, as Dr. Ben called it—turned out to be the highlight of the games.
In the center of the playing field, the staff created an enormous mudhole, a large sticky pit of goo that resembled a vat of chocolate in the hot afternoon sunlight. The campers formed two teams, each with their quota of counselors, medical helpers, CITs, and campers. Soon each team was lined up on the wet grass with a thick rope stretched between them. A bright-red rag, tied to the center of the rope, dangled over the pit of dark, oozing mud. The first team to bring the rag to its side of the mudhole would win.
“Of course, if anyone just
happens
to fall into the mud, then it’s too bad,” Dr. Ben told the audience as he grabbed hold of the thick rope at the front of the line.
Dawn stood midway in the line behind Dr. Ben, in front of Val, and behind Marlee as the rope went taut. On the other team, Brent shouted instructions to his teammates. Instantly, Dawn felt herself sliding forward. She gritted her teeth and pulled, using all her strength.
Someone shouted, “Dig in!” Dawn stomped her feet hard and felt her sneakers sink slightly into the wet ground. Slowly she stopped her forward slide.
“Heave!” someone else yelled. She groaned and jerked harder. She saw Marlee’s shoulders hunch in front of her.
“Whose dumb idea was this?” Marlee managed to ask through clenched teeth.
“Just keep pulling!” Dawn commanded. “Or we’ll be eating mud pies!”
From the front, she heard Dr. Ben holler, “We’re gaining! We’re
Marlee hung her head and drew a pattern in the grass with her big toe. “You think that’s all there is to it?”
“You won’t know if you don’t try.”
“I don’t know . . .”
“We could go try right now. I can help, and so will the others.”
“They hate me.”
“Wrong. They may hate the way you act, but they don’t really know
you
.”
“I’m pretty forgettable.”
Dawn put her arm around Marlee’s thin shoulders. “You’re a lot of things, Marlee Hodges, but forgettable isn’t one of them.”
Marlee tipped her head back and studied Dawn through one partially closed eyelid. The other lid drooped noticeably over her glass eye. “You’re not just saying that to butter me up, are you?”
Dawn laughed over Marlee’s sudden turn to dry humor. “I’ve only got two more days to make sure you have a good time,” she said, leading Marlee up the porch steps toward the cabin where the others could be heard joking over newly made-up faces. “You can’t let my very first job as a CIT be a failure.”
The door banged shut behind them as they walked out of the night and into the light.
Ten
D AWN considered that night a turning point for Marlee. She had gone back inside the cabin and let Dawn apply the cosmetics, including eyeliner and mascara. Marlee tried on one of Fran’s wigs and one of Cindy’s outfits. And in the end, the results had been dramatic.
“You look super,” Dawn told her. And she meant it.
But the biggest benefit was that the evening had built a bridge between Marlee and the other girls. Not that Marlee became Little Miss Sunshine, but she did lighten up. She was less critical of people and camp activities. She made her bed each morning and actually participated in arts and crafts. The others invited her to sit with them during meals and included her in their discussions after lights-out.
Dawn felt pleased with the way things were going and faced Friday, the last full day of camp and the Junior Olympics, with mixed emotions. On the one hand, she was anxious to get home and get on with her summer. On the other, it was going to be hard to say goodbye to everyone.
Area reporters and a TV crew showed up to cover the games. Overall, Dawn’s girls did well in the individual events. They won the egg toss—Paige turned out to be an ace-egg-heaver with her one arm—and placed third in the mushy oatmeal pass. Yet the big finale—the Great American Tug of War, as Dr. Ben called it—turned out to be the highlight of the games.
In the center of the playing field, the staff created an enormous mudhole, a large sticky pit of goo that resembled a vat of chocolate in the hot afternoon sunlight. The campers formed two teams, each with their quota of counselors, medical helpers, CITs, and campers. Soon each team was lined up on the wet grass with a thick rope stretched between them. A bright-red rag, tied to the center of the rope, dangled over the pit of dark, oozing mud. The first team to bring the rag to its side of the mudhole would win.
“Of course, if anyone just
happens
to fall into the mud, then it’s too bad,” Dr. Ben told the audience as he grabbed hold of the thick rope at the front of the line.
Dawn stood midway in the line behind Dr. Ben, in front of Val, and behind Marlee as the rope went taut. On the other team, Brent shouted instructions to his teammates. Instantly, Dawn felt herself sliding forward. She gritted her teeth and pulled, using all her strength.
Someone shouted, “Dig in!” Dawn stomped her feet hard and felt her sneakers sink slightly into the wet ground. Slowly she stopped her forward slide.
“Heave!” someone else yelled. She groaned and jerked harder. She saw Marlee’s shoulders hunch in front of her.
“Whose dumb idea was this?” Marlee managed to ask through clenched teeth.
“Just keep pulling!” Dawn commanded. “Or we’ll be eating mud pies!”
From the front, she heard Dr. Ben holler, “We’re gaining! We’re
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