Page 10 of Camp Help Falling

“Instead,” she says with a wry smile on her face, “we’re going to be helping the kids with their cabin assignments.”

I almost wish I had stayed at the desk and suffered through the awkwardness of registration. Because what we end up doing is waiting for the participants to show up and check in with Mom and Dad—something that only takes a few minutes—where they’re given a cabin and a group assignment, and Sadie and I introduce ourselves and walk with them, sometimes a small group of them, to their cabins.

This camp isn’t huge. It’s probably less than a mile to walk the loop around the lake, but to walk the kids out to the cabins—boys on the east side of the lake, girls on the west side—wait for them to put away their bags, and then walk them back to the main field by the lodge for ice breaker games? I was dying last night taking only my things to my cabin on the far side of the lake. And this morning, I have to do it again. And again. And again.

After our first few trips, Sadie and I decide to split up so we can take twice the number of groups. Her congeniality has rubbed off on me, and although I’m still caffeine-less, I’m more friendly with the participants than I originally thought I would be. I might not be the ray of sunshine Sadie is—the ray of sunshine that instantly lights up the faces of the participants who are nervous to leave their parents for the first time—but I’m not a total grump either. In fact, I’m finding more commonalities with the teenage boys who had to wake up early to make the drive up to camp.

As I talk to the guys I lead to the cabins and back, I discover that most of them are from relatively close by. An hour’s drive, maybe. But there’s a few who traveled farther—Salt Lake City, Pocatello, even one from Provo. And all I can do is shake my head at them because why would you drive upwards of three hours to come to this little camp?

Pretty soon, all of the participants are checked in, bags in their cabins, and congregated in the field. Parents wave their last goodbyes from the parking lot as it empties slowly.

Sadie does a quick head count of both participants and staff before stepping to what I assume is the “front” of the group. Unsure of whether I should be up there with her, I end up somewhere along the side of the teeming mass of teenagers, closer to Sadie than not.

“HEY CAMP BROWER!” Sadie shouts above the raucous din of the participants. My jaw nearly drops to the dirt right then and there. I have never heard such a loud sound come out of someone so small. But that loud voice silences everyone on the field, drawing all eyes to her small frame.

“I said, HEY CAMP BROWER!” she repeats herself, louder this time, and she gets back a chorus of, “Hey Camp Director!” Some of the participants must be regulars because there’s a few confident voices mingled with the hesitant ones, and they’re all supported by the youth staff.

“Welcome, campers!” Sadie is still shouting, but at a more reasonable level. Even though she’s shorter than more than half the people here, she can easily be heard by all of them. “We are so excited you’re here to spend the week with us at Camp Brower! I’m Sadie Meadows, the camp director. Before we get started with our group breakouts, I want to introduce you to the rest of the staff!”

She calls out Tyler Adams’ name, and he raises his arm high, waving it as all the heads turn to get a glimpse of him. “Tyler is the assistant camp director! He’s my number one guy, so if you need something and can’t find me, find him! Tyler’s wife Danielle is our camp cook. She’s not here right now because she’s working hard to get everything set up for lunch, but she can usually be found up in the lodge.” Sadie points a hand to the large building. “If you can’t find Tyler, find Danielle! She’ll know where he is.”

A round of laughter ripples through the participants. Sadie continues to introduce the adult staff, eventually getting to me, and I obediently wave my hand in the air like all the others. After my introduction, Sadie rapid-fire shouts out the names of the youth staff, and instructs them to come stand at the front with her. Once all twelve of the youth staff are spread out at the front of the group, Sadie pulls a folded piece of paper out of her back pocket and starts reading off participant names, grouping them together, and assigning a pair of youth staff members to each group.

Once all of the names are read, we have four groups of twelve participants, led by two staffers. Sadie calls me and Mia to the front, and assigns each of us two of the groups, putting me in charge of twenty-four participants and four staffers.

Forcing a smile to my face as I look out over the youth I’m assigned, a feeling of unease settles over me. I’ve never had so many people looking to me for direction—a direction I’m not sure I can even give them, since I’m feeling rather directionless myself right now.

“Now we’re going to split up into our Big Groups and disperse for our camp introduction activity! At noon, we’ll gather back at the lodge for lunch! And…GO!”

While Mia leads her half of the participants away to the other end of the field, I have a few seconds to get my crap together and take control of this group. While I’m grateful to have Sadie’s help today, I know I need to set the precedent with these kids.

Even though it terrifies me.

In that moment of decision, I meet Sadie’s eye, and she gives me an encouraging smile and nod.

“Alright everybody,” I start, and while my voice is loud enough to carry over the smaller group, it’s not even close to Sadie’s. “Today is literally my first day ever on a camp staff, so Sadie is going to be helping me out. And by that, I mean that she’s pretty much going to be running this show.” The participants laugh and I wave Sadie over to me.

“So, Miss Camp Director, lead the way.”

My first day is not as bad as it could be.

The day’s not over yet, so there’s still room for it to tank, but I’m choosing to be optimistic.

“Do you remember what song you’re leading?” Sadie says quietly from my right as I await my turn to run onto the fire bowl stage. Throughout today, she taught me the words and actions to the song that Landon was going to lead during tonight’s campfire. It seemed easy enough when we were practicing before dinner, but now that the campfire is blazing high and the campers are expecting a banger of a campfire program, worry is gnawing away at my nerves.

“Moose Juice,” I say. It’s such a silly name for an even sillier song. But if there’s anything I’ve learned in the last twenty-four hours, it’s that camp is full of silly things.

Take the first half of the campfire program, for example.

It began with two youth staffers pretending to be cavemen who discovered fire. Followed by something called “The Enlarging Machine,” which ended with a staffer getting doused by a bucket of water. I thought I had seen the extent of it, but then half the youth staff ran on as “turkeys”, with their arms and legs shoved into the arms of their hoodies. A few of them fell over and had to be rolled off the dirt stage. There have been a few more songs and skits, and my song is one of the last ones. Sadie showed me the program earlier, but the names of the skits, songs, and run-ons hold no meaning for me. The only thing I remember is that I’m after the Stick Up run-on, and they’re next.

“Remember, it’s a repeat-after-me and a do-as-I-do.”

“Right.”

“Don’t forget an action for the do-as-I-do part.”

I turn to Sadie. “That would have been great to mention earlier.” I look at her with panicked eyes. I’ve been running this song and its actions through my head all afternoon, and now she tells me I need an additional action?

---