Total pages in book: 16
Estimated words: 14447 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 72(@200wpm)___ 58(@250wpm)___ 48(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 14447 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 72(@200wpm)___ 58(@250wpm)___ 48(@300wpm)
“You think Piper is a good hire?” I ask Moose when we’re on the way back down to the lake.
“Cyprus says she is.” He shrugs, thinking that’s the only confirmation he needs.
I appreciate that he never calls her by her first name. “Yeah,” I say, rubbing the back of my neck. “I just can’t think of what we’re going to do when she has the baby.”
“Didn’t you have Van as a baby up here?” He looks over at me and raises an eyebrow.
“You’re not wrong.”
For some reason it felt like we were much older than her when we had Van, but we weren’t. Honey was young when I met her, it feels like so much time has passed since we’ve been together so long. She came to Camp Hardwood on a scholarship through her foster home, and sometimes I wonder what would have happened if she didn’t have that. I like to think that we would have found each other another way because she’s my soulmate. But then I shake it off because I can’t imagine a scenario where I didn’t find her.
Moose leaves me at the mess hall as he goes to the outbuilding. He’s got most of his gear stored out there and he’s got a private cabin deeper in the woods behind it. He likes his privacy for the most part and I can’t say I blame him. He doesn’t talk about what he used to do for the government, but when he came in to interview for the job he said he wanted to be in the mountains and still help people.
I go to the mess hall and check in with the kitchen staff. Most of my responsibilities each day are checking in and making sure everyone has what they need and report problems to the people we pay to fix them. The head chef tells me about a new “bug juice” she’s got for this year’s campers, and supplies for the weekly bonfire cookouts. Every Saturday on the last night of camp we have a big fire and grill out while the kids make smores. It’s a tradition Honey and I had, and we’ve kept it going. One last blowout before we have to say goodbye. It was always the worst part because we had to say goodbye, but the best part because we were able to sneak into the boathouses and mess around. I closed off boathouse number seven when we took over the camp. It felt wrong to let anyone else go in there when it was such a special place for us. Now it’s our secret lounge on the edge of camp we like to sneak away to when we’re feeling frisky.
After I meet with the kitchen staff, I move on to the maintenance crew, groundskeeping, scheduling managers, and planning staff. We’re in full swing for the summer already and we’ve got a crew running this place.
Honey and I are so lucky we’ve got plenty of people to make this run if we’re not here, but we love this place so much we couldn’t stand not being involved.
After all my check-ins are done, I walk to the lake. Lifeguards are doing swim test today and I know Honey likes to be there for the beginners. I think it’s because she almost drowned, so now she feels like she has to put as many eyes on the water as possible while we assess the swimmers.
“Hey, Mr. Cyprus,” Zara calls as she passes by me.
“Aren’t you supposed to be at archery with the Blue Jays today?” I check my watch and see she’s running late.
We sort each week of campers into bird names. It makes it easier to know who is supposed to be where and on what activity. Zara is a scholarship kid like Honey was and those are always the ones we look out for extra close. They often don’t have all the necessary equipment to bring with them, but we keep on hand what they need. They can also get into trouble or separate from groups because they’re used to relying on themselves for everything. It’s a dangerous game when being in the woods or doing something that could get them injured. She just started yesterday, so I need to follow up with her counselor that she’s being looked after.
“I’m on my way. I wore flip-flops by mistake and I had to run back.” She points to her feet and I see she’s got her sneakers on.
“What’s the first rule of camp?” I raise an eyebrow and she lets out a sigh.
“Always have a buddy.” Her blue eyes look chagrined and then she nods. “I won’t forget next time.”
“All right,” I say, knowing she probably snuck off from her counselor to go back alone instead of taking someone with her, once again thinking she can do it on her own. “Hustle up and remember to stay on the trail flagged white. It will take you all the way up to the archery field.”