Page 6 of Daddy's Little Camping Trip
Chapter Five
Quill
When I traveled, my motto was pack half the clothes and bring twice the money. No one wants to be lugging around suitcase after suitcase filled with things they’re not even going to wear. But camping was different. I couldn’t pop over to the store if I didn’t have the right color shirt for one of the events. And even if we were in a city, finding little clothes would not be easy.
I ended up pulling into the campground with two huge suitcases in my car. One held half little clothes and half my two pillows, the other my big clothes and teddy bear. I brought a sleeping bag borrowed from Mr. Robinson next door as well. I climbed out of the car, slung the sleeping-bag carrier strap over my shoulder and, with a suitcase handle in each hand, trudged across the gravel parking area.
What had I gotten myself into?
A lot of people were already here, and it wasn’t until I followed the arrows to the check-in table that I realized cabins existed. They were rustic, but they had four walls, doors, and electricity.Please let one still be available.
I crossed my fingers and toes as I stepped up and told Ms. Lily, who stood in front of the check-in desk, I was there. A man wearing a polo with the camp name on the left side of his chest was behind the desk, also helping people get checked in. Most of the daddies were going to him, I noticed, while the littles flocked to the reassuring presence of Ms. Lily.
“Am I, by chance, in a cabin?”
She shook her head. “Those booked out really quickly. But, don’t worry. I found a friend for you. I think you’ll get along really well.”
I wasn’t worried about friends. I was worried about bears eating my toes and mosquitoes sucking all my blood until I needed a transfusion. And Bigfoot. Or…I didn’t even know what other creatures might be there, just all the woodsy, outdoorsy stuff that could take me out. My imagination sure got away from me on that last night.
“Oh, that’s great.” I slapped on a happy face. I was here. Might as well make the most of it.
She went on about what the events were going to look like and handed me a little schedule, but I wasn’t really paying attention. My gaze kept wandering, searching the crowd for the daddy who was my catalyst for signing up.
It was probably going to be like my little playdates on the group chat, where half the time people didn’t show up…or it would be 100 percent of the time because there was no way I was coming camping again. Not even if I got one of those cabins. They looked like they were filled with spiders waiting to pop out and climb up my nose.
I really needed to quit perseverating on that stuff and convince myself this was gonna be fun. If I didn’t, I assured myself misery, and I was already here. Time to get over all the outdoor worries.
Standing straight and tall, I attempted to gain confidence, or at least look like it. “I’m sorry. Could you tell me where my tent is again?”
“Sure! It looks like you’re so excited you can’t wait,” she said.
Well, if not confidence, I had achieved mock enthusiasm.
I listened as she gave the directions and then, with all the grace of a sitcom character, I worked my way there with my suitcases and sleeping bag. The suitcase—one tumbling then two getting stuck then the first one tripping me. And, of course, the sleeping bag slid down my arm and ended up on the ground twice. I was so out of my element.
The tents were labeled, so I found mine pretty quickly. Getting the suitcases inside? Not as easy. But when I did, I quickly saw which side of the tent was mine. The other side had a little cot set up with an air mattress on top. My roommate was officially smarter than me. They had a lantern, a backpack, and a duffel bag—and that was it. An official camper.
I rolled out my sleeping bag, hoping to look halfway put together, and checked the schedule. A lot of events were happening over the course of the event, and tonight, there was a campfire, which was always fun. And better than fun…bears hated fires. At least the kind of bears with fur and claws and desires to eat people. The sexy kind of bears? They may or may not like the campfire.
“Hey.” In came a man I’d never seen before. “I’m Winter.” He looked like he was ready to go on one of those twenty-year hikes that people upload on YouTube where they have to stop at random post offices to pick up their dehydrated food they mailed ahead and see the world. All while reminding you to stay hydrated. The only thing missing was the fancy backpack on his shoulders.
“I’m Quill. I’m thinking this isn’t your first time camping?”
“No. And this place is so amazing.” He plopped down on his cot. “Do you love camping too?”
“It looks like you’re a little more rustic than I am.” I chuckled. “I didn’t know they made those air-bed thingies you have, or that there were cabins here. This is not even my sleeping bag.”
“Well, why’d you come?”
My ears burned. Winter was little too. With no reason not to share my story, I told him about the night at Chained and how I spontaneously signed up, knowing it was not the best plan for me. I waited for him to laugh, but he didn’t.
Instead, he said, “Awww.”
“Awwww?”
“If you guys get together for, like, real-real, and he’s here, this can be your story.”
“Yeah, I guess it could.”
