Page 34 of Lady and the Camp
“Yee!” I shot up from the chair. Lucas. Lucas was here.
He paused in the doorway. “What are you doing here?”
I scrambled to shut down the computer. “I was just leaving.” A chill hit my body. Could be from the open door, or the sick feeling overtaking my body.
“You shouldn’t be in here after hours.” He folded his arms, then unfolded them, as if uncertain.
“I…I’m sorry. Twila said it was fine but—” Twila was not my boss. “Sorry. I’m leaving.”
I grabbed my stuff. My stuff being a water bottle and a two-way radio. Pathetic.
Lucas moved aside to let me out. “Hudson, wait, I’m sorry. I didn’t expect to see you here.”
I opened the screen door. “Yeah. That’s beginning to seem like a pattern.”
At the cabin, silence greeted me. It should have been sweet and blissful. Instead, the stillness drained the last of my confidence.
I was alone. At a camp out in the sticks with no Wi-Fi and a shower with weak water pressure. Yes, I’d been grateful for indoor plumbing, but reality cut deep.
I cried. I made it to the bedroom and dug out my real phone. The weight of it felt foreign in my grasp. Every part of me felt off kilter, maladjusted, broken.
The cabin’s door opened. “Yoohoo!” Maggie called from the front room. “Mail call!”
I wiped at my face and tossed the phone onto my top bunk.
I sensed Maggie’s presence filling the door frame. “You’ve got mail. In case you weren’t sure what mail call meant.”
I sniffled and kept my back to her. “Thanks.”
Without further comment, her footsteps retreated. I turned, finding an envelope on the dresser. A handwritten address to me on the front. The return address: Marcy.
I ripped open the envelope and stifled a laugh. An honest-to-goodness letter written on stationary. Little cartoon animals wearing shorts and T-shirts bordered the bottom. Like they were at summer camp.
Dear H [full name redacted for security],
I can’t remember the last letter I wrote apart from a holiday card. It’s kind of fun! I found this old stationary from when I was kid and thought you’d like some mail. I wanted you to get a letter your first few days, so I’m writing this right after you left. You literally just left my apartment. So, nothing new has happened since you air dropped back into our lives. For which I’m grateful. I’m sorry you’re in the space you are right now, but so glad you came to us for help.
Hope the bugs aren’t too bad. Let me know how it’s going, and what you think of Lucas!
Love,
Ya Girl,
Marcy
The tears came again, only the hard pit in my gut eroded. This little note captured enough of my old life to grasp onto. More than visiting my social accounts, which I assumed would give me a sense of control rather than spiral me into despair.
I grabbed my phone. A half bar of connectivity. I’d need to venture closer to the office for better service.
After cleaning up in the bathroom, I tiptoed out of the cabin. The campers would be involved in their after dinner activities for a while yet, which I’d been let off the hook from tonight. I called Marcy the second the connectivity inched higher.
She answered on the second ring. “What are you doing using that phone? Isn’t it contraband? Did you get my letter?”
I laughed, though it came out unsteady. “Thank you for the letter.”
“Oh, good. How’s it been?”
My body buzzed from absorbing all those horrible online comments. “I checked some of my accounts.” Leaning against a tree within site of the camp office, I told her what I found.
