Six Months to Live Page 7

  “Let’s ‘get’ Dr. Ben!” he grinned.

  “How’d you mean?” Sandy asked.

  “You know,” Mike said, his brown eyes twinkling. “Let’s play a trick on him, something funny. Let’s make it something he’ll remember every year he comes to this camp!”

  Sandy squealed mischievously. “Let’s!” she said.

  “What do you have in mind?” Greg asked, his blue eyes lighting up at the thought.

  “How about a midnight raid with water balloons?” Dawn suggested. “Imagine being ‘bombed’ at midnight out of a sound sleep with a blast from a water balloon!”

  Mike’s eyes sparkled. “That’s not bad, Dawn. What else?” he asked.

  “Well,” Sandy drawled. “Once, to get even with one of my brothers, I stole his underwear and sewed flowers all over them. It took him days to pick all the threads off. He was the talk of his gym class for weeks!” she laughed.

  “We’ll run them up the flagpole!” Greg shouted. “Can you picture the look on everybody’s face when we go to breakfast and see Dr. Ben’s underwear flying from the flagpole!”

  The four of them dissolved into helpless laugher, then set about making their plans. “After we hit him with water balloons,” Mike said, “he won’t be expecting anything else. I’ll get the underwear while the place is in confusion.”

  They decided to make the “hit” the next night. “Once everybody’s asleep, Greg and I’ll come to Coyote cabin and get you two.” Mike said.

  “We’ll tap on the window, lightly. Then you two sneak out, and we’ll go over to Dr. Ben’s cabin. Greg and I’ll sneak in it. You two pass us the balloons through the window. We’ll make the hit, get the merchandise and then split.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Sandy said. Dawn clapped with anticipation.

  “I heard he sleeps with a rope surrounding his bed. The floor is covered with pots and pans,” Greg offered. “That’s so no one can get near his bed.”

  Mike snapped his fingers to dismiss the obstacle. “No problem,” he said. “We’ll be so sneaky, he’ll never know what hit him!”

  At arts and crafts the next morning, each of them took a handful of balloons from the craft supplies. That afternoon, they carefully filled them with water. Then Dawn and Sandy put them inside their shower caps and stashed them under their bunks.

  “My poor cap looks like it’s about to have a litter of kittens,” Sandy remarked slyly to Mike at supper.

  “Sh—sh!” he cautioned. “Doc Ben has spies all over the place.”

  As if to underscore Mike’s warning, that night after a movie Dr. Ben stood up and said, “It has been brought to my attention that a lot of balloons have mysteriously ‘disappeared’ from the craft supplies.”

  An excited buzz swept around the campers. Dawn felt her color darken. But she maintained a façade of complete surprise.

  Dr. Ben held up his hands and continued. “I know that there are campers here who think they are smarter and more clever than us counselors,” he started. A murmur of protest sounded in the room.

  “However,” he cried, his dark eyes teasing with challenge. “There’s not a camper been born who can outwit, outsmart or outdo Dr. Ben Isaacson!”

  The protest grew to open hisses and verbal challenges. Mike and Greg looked especially innocent during Dr. Ben’s speech. But when the meeting broke up and everyone was dismissed, Greg leaned down to Dawn and whispered, “Tonight! We hit tonight. Tell Sandy. We’ll come for you at midnight!”

  With total anticipation, Dawn and Sandy went to their cabin and prepared for bed. They slipped on their nightgowns over their clothes. They crawled into bed and, once the light went out, feigned sleep. It seemed like hours before Dawn recognized the calm, even breathing of deep sleep from her cabinmates.

  Dawn heard the noise first. It sounded like little scratches on their window. She reached over and poked Sandy. “I hear the signal,” she whispered. Dawn’s heart pounded with the tingle of the upcoming adventure.

  Cautiously, they crept out of bed and slipped to the window. Sandy slowly slid the window up and leaned out. Mike rose from the bushes to greet her.

  “Got the bombs?” he asked.

  Dawn dropped to her knees and slid the bulging shower caps out from under her bed. She handed one to Sandy who passed it out the window to Greg and Mike. Next, Dawn swung her legs out the window and felt Greg’s strong hands grab her waist. In another minute, Sandy boosted herself onto the windowsill, and Greg hauled her down to the bushes, too. There, the four of them hovered for a moment, breathing hard, quieting their nerves.

  “Let’s go!” Mike ordered.

  They crouched and stealthily crept through the woods toward Lion cabin, where Dr. Ben and his male staff slept.

  “This is going to be a piece of cake!” Mike whispered. “Now, here’s what I want Sandy and Dawn to do. Greg is going to get in through the window. Then he’ll help me inside. You two keep a lookout and pass us the bombs. Once the battle starts, look for me to toss out the underwear. Once you get it, take off! Go back to your cabin. Get in bed and don’t look back.”

  “But what about you guys?” Sandy asked.

  “We’ll split. Don’t worry,” Mike said. “But it’s important that Doc Ben thinks that the water balloons were the object of the raid. We can’t let him suspect there’s anything else going on. Okay? Is everything ready?”

  Dawn nodded and squeezed Greg’s hand in the dark. Quickly, he leaned forward and brushed her mouth with his. “For luck!” he said. Her heart pounded with flushed surprise.

  Greg raised the window and struggled to haul himself up over the ledge. He disappeared inside, then leaned out and reached down for Mike. In moments, both had vanished into the hushed darkness of the cabin. A minute later, Greg leaned out and Sandy and Dawn passed them the water balloons.

  The girls crouched in the dark bushes, clutching each other’s hand and suppressing adrenalin-soaked giggles. Suddenly, the cabin erupted with shouts, cries and yells. “What the?” “Hey! What’s happening?”

  “Bonsai!” Mike yelled. Splat after splat could be heard. Confusion and mayhem reined. Dawn wished she could see inside the cabin, but she and Sandy crouched against the outside wall, awaiting their prize to sail through the window.

  Minutes later, an object was flung out the open window. Dawn scooped it up and stuffed it in her top. Then she and Sandy took off running. They never looked behind them and arrived back at their cabin winded and delirious with success.

  “We made it!” Sandy whispered from the ground below their window.

  “Not yet!” Dawn warned. She gathered her strength and grabbed the outside of the window sill. Then she hauled herself up over the ledge. She was grateful for her sports background. Her arms were still strong and she got inside noiselessly. She reached out to Sandy, and her friend scrambled in after her.

  Quickly they climbed into their beds. Dawn lay perfectly still, her ears straining for any signs that they’d been heard. All was quiet. Under her covers, she pulled the lump of material out of her top. Even in the dark she could tell that it was a pair of men’s underwear. They’d done it! The four of them together had pulled off the ultimate prank.

  She hoped Mike and Greg had gotten away. Sandy took the pants and sneaked into the bathroom. There she sat for over an hour on the floor with her small sewing kit. Dawn checked on her and found Sandy’s handiwork perfect. The underwear was adorned with bright embroidered flowers, butterflies and bees.

  Dawn took a laundry marker and scrawled across the seat: “The Fearless Four!” Finally, Sandy folded them up and stuck them under her pillow.

  Dawn slept fitfully. But early the next morning, when the rest of the cabin was just awakening, she and Sandy excused themselves for an early walk to the mess hall. They walked swiftly toward their destination, the empty flagpole.

  The dew clung to the woods and the fresh smell of morning filled the hazy air. Dawn’s pulse raced with anticipation. At the flagpole they pau
sed, looked around for privacy, clipped the newly decorated underwear on the flag hooks, and hauled it up the chain. A slight morning breeze caught the new “flag” and the girls watched as the brightly emblazoned pants fluttered and flapped at the top of the pole.

  They swiftly slipped into the mess hall where Greg and Mike sat in wide-eyed innocence waiting for them. “You made it!” Sandy cried with delight.

  “He never knew what hit him!” Greg whispered.

  They all stifled laughs and waited for the hungry campers and counselors to descend on the mess hall and see the result of their night’s work. Beneath the table, Greg took Dawn’s hand. He held it tightly and her heart danced.

  From outside, they began to hear excited cries, waves of laughter and gasps of shock and surprise as groups arrived for breakfast. They arose and walked casually outside, blending into the crowds that stood gazing and pointing up at the top of the flagpole.

  “Look at that!” a boy yelled.

  “Do we salute?” someone else asked.

  “Hey, Doc Ben!” a counselor called. The bewildered doctor stood at the base of the pole, scratching his head and looking up at his underwear fluttering in the breeze. “I thought you were too smart for these kids!”

  The entire camp broke out into wolf whistles, shouts and excited chatter. The red-faced Dr. Ben shrugged his shoulders, scanned the faces of his charges and shrugged. “I’ll get even at the Special Olympics!” he called. Then he burst out laughing and saluted the flowered underwear high overhead in the morning sun.

  CHAPTER

  12

  The camp talked about the “Fearless Four” for days while gearing up for the final days and the long awaited Special Olympics. Dawn was eager for the promised day of fun. But she was dreading it, too. The Special Olympics meant the end of camp, the end of summer and the end of the best time she’d ever had in her life.

  Dr. Ben divided the sixty campers and twelve counselors into six teams of twelve. He passed out sheets of paper outlining the events and the rules. Every team held strategy and planning meetings to discuss winning the overall trophy. Dawn found herself on the same team as Greg. Sandy and Mike were assigned another team.

  The night before the big sports event, a band arrived at the recreation hall and set up for dancing and entertainment. The night was hot and muggy. Dawn dressed in crisp white shorts and a sleeveless green top and sandals and met Greg inside the screened Rec room.

  Sandy, dressed in pink, met Mike. The four of them watched while the band warmed up and then played the top songs of summer. Pedro Mendez performed a break dancing routine that caused everyone to howl with delight. Dawn stood and watched, feeling Greg’s presence behind her. His hands rested casually on her shoulders and her heart swelled with pleasure and happiness.

  Later they danced slowly in one another’s arms. Her head didn’t even reach his shoulder. “Let’s go for a walk,” he said in her ear. She agreed, and together they left the dance and went into the cooling night air.

  Greg took her hand and they walked silently down the moonlit footpath toward the lake. Dawn felt contentment and peace settle within her. They reached the edge of the water and stood watching as it lapped gently against the expanse of white sand along its shore. The moon cut a long white beam across the dark surface of the water. From far away she heard frogs and crickets.

  “Look!” Dawn said. And she pointed up at blinking fireflies in the sky above them.

  Greg took both her hands in his and pulled her against his broad chest. Her mouth went dry and her blood pounded in her ears. “Let’s write,” he said, his voice husky sounding.

  Dawn’s spirits soared. “I’d like that,” she said.

  “And we’ll meet here again next summer,” he urged.

  “Next summer,” she echoed. She looked up at him. The moon struck his face from the side, lighting it in pearly silver hues. Dawn rose on her tiptoes, held her breath and closed her eyes. He kissed her tenderly.

  Fireflies and stars twinkled around them. The moon glimmered, shooting off sparks of silver into the blackness of the night. Dawn would remember this night for the rest of her life.

  * * * * *

  The day of the Special Olympics was hot and humid. But the teams were ready. “The first event,” Dr. Ben announced over the PA system. “The first event will be the Oatmeal Pass!”

  Eagerly, each team lined up in rows. Each member sat behind another, single file on the ground in a line of six. Dawn’s team, the Bandits, snuggled close behind one another’s back waiting for the starter’s gun to sound.

  The lead man, Dusty Willis, sat with his arms outstretched. He was ready to receive the glob of cooked oatmeal into his cupped hands that rested in Joan Clarke’s ladle.

  “Now remember!” Dr. Ben said. “You must pass the oatmeal over your head to the person directly behind you. It must pass over your heads! The team to reach the end of the line first with the most amount of oatmeal remaining, wins! Ready?”

  He fired his starter’s pistol and the Great Oatmeal Race was on! Joan shook off the cold, wet glob of oatmeal into Dusty’s hands who lifted the soggy mess over his head to the outstretched hands behind him. The new hands received it. They passed to Dawn and as it slid and slithered into her hands, she jerked it high above her head to Greg, sitting behind her. A large wet blob of it slid between her fingers and squished onto her head.

  Dawn squealed with shivery tingles and dumped the mess into Greg’s hands, laughing and yelling. The diminishing ladle of oatmeal passed swiftly from team member to team member, each trying to keep the slippery mess from oozing out of his hands. At the back of the line, Joan stood urging them on and holding the ladle to receive what was left.

  The oatmeal arrived in record time. With a shout, the Bandits stood up celebrating their victory. Dawn laughed at Greg who had oatmeal plastered across his chest. Her own upper arms and head also felt gooey with the mess. “We won!” Greg cried, and the entire team cheered.

  From there, the teams moved over to the Egg Toss competition. Partners lined up and started tossing a raw egg between them. After each toss they took a giant step backward, until the couple from each team who kept their egg unbroken the longest, won the event.

  Dawn and Greg paired off and began tossing the fragile egg. Dawn caught it beautifully and tossed it back. Greg caught it perfectly. A screech beside her told Dawn that Sandy hadn’t been as fortunate. Her egg had broken in her hands.

  Over and over Dawn and Greg tossed their egg. Over and over they caught it without mishap. All but four pairs were eliminated from the competition. Dawn concentrated hard and tossed the egg high in the air. Greg moved beneath it, his arms raised to receive it and cushion its landing. Disaster struck. The egg hit too hard and disintegrated in his hands.

  “Ugh!” he cried as the yellow runny mess slithered in thick drops through his fingers. Dawn collapsed into helpless laughter and he threatened to wipe his hands on her shirt.

  “Don’t you dare, Greg Buchannan!” Dawn shrieked and took off running.

  Next, the teams passed oranges from neck to neck down their line. Without using hands, the feat proved quite difficult, but after the Bandits completed this round they were in first place.

  “We’re not defeated yet!” Mike called, rallying his team to win the Water Balloon Toss event.

  The Bandits took the Three-Legged Race and Mike’s team took the Sack Hop. The other teams, now far behind, began to take sides and cheer for either the Bandits or the Scorpions.

  “It looks as if we need a tie breaker!” Dr. Ben called after totaling up the scores.

  The teams cheered. “I suggest the Flour-Candy Hunt!” Dr. Ben announced. Dawn didn’t know what it was, but it sounded like fun. Counselors brought out twelve paper plates heaped with white flour and set the plates on the picnic tables under a pavilion.

  “Now!” Dr. Ben said. “Believe it or not, there is a piece of candy buried in each mound of flour. You contestants have to find it.”
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  That seems too simple, Dawn thought.

  “. . . without using your hands!” Dr. Ben finished. The contestants groaned. “It’s kind of like bobbing for apples!” he said. “Dig through that flour with your face! Scratch around in that white fluff with your nose and find that sucker!” Dr. Ben yelled.

  He blasted a whistle and the contestants lunged forward with their faces. Dawn felt the flour clinging to her mouth and nose. It stuck in her nostrils and clung heavily to her eyelashes. Her nose bumped something solid. The candy! She groveled for it all the harder, sending flour up around her head in white puffs.

  Suddenly, a shout went up. Dawn picked up her head in time to see Sandy standing, grinning a white-faced smile of triumph, with a cellophane-wrapped hard candy dangling between her teeth. A shout of victory went up and Mike picked her up, whirled her around in the air, and proclaimed the Scorpions the “Victors.”

  The Special Olympic games ended after a wiener roast and a watermelon pig-out. Trophies went to every team and then all the campers and staff marched down to the lake for a giant bonfire as the sun set over the water.

  As Dawn sat close to Greg and watched the flames of the final bonfire burn low, a large lump rose in her throat. “I’m going to miss everybody so much,” she said in a whisper. Her voice cracked slightly and Greg hugged her shoulders to him.

  “Yeah, you will,” he confirmed. “But you’ll get busy again. School will start and soon it’s Christmas, then spring. Then before you know it,” he snapped his finger, “summer’s back!”

  A dark thought crossed her mind. “D-Do you think we’ll all be here next year?” she asked, scanning the faces that had grown so familiar to her during the last two weeks.

  “Most of us will,” Greg said. “But not everyone . . .”

  Dawn didn’t ask any more. She couldn’t bear to think of one of them not being here the next year. Yet, every kid around the bonfire had a form of cancer. Every camper in the group had his own particular battle to go home and fight, including herself.