The Summer at Camazotz

Two

One hour has passed since the Camazotz bus left Abbotsford and I'm starting to have regrets. I've been looking forward to today for the simple fact that I get the chance to escape the normality of life at home. But now sitting in a hot bus with more than forty people is starting to take its toll. If you've never been cramped in a vehicle with screaming kids all while the air seems to become increasingly more sticky for two hours, consider yourself lucky. I'm already beginning to dread the drive home.

I should also mention that I don't like being around anyone I'm not comfortable with. Strangers make me feel anxious and just the thought of being around a lot of them makes my skin crawl. I know you're probably wondering why I'm letting myself do something that requires being around people if I get this way. My only answer is that I'm willing to do something I hate if it's something that needs to be done.

My brother Winston, on the other hand, is a total social butterfly. He thrives in social situations and has absolutely no fear when it comes to conversing with new people, while I try to avoid anything social as much as possible. It's a miracle for me to have made all the friends I have and for me to be sitting on this bus.

The whole camp situation is making me think about my best friends—Patrick and Jason. I met Patrick after we had gotten into a fight over who the best Autobot is from Transformers. I had just moved to British Columbia that summer and had guards up everywhere I went. The point is, Patrick was not as cranky as I was and we've been best friends ever since. The two of us later met Jason when he transferred to our school for eighth grade. We took Jason under our wing and it was the three of us against the world.

Until we went to high school.

I shake the thoughts out of my head and stare out the window. Forests flash by outside as the bus travels along down the road. I swear I spot a bear at one point through the trees, though I can't be sure considering how fast we're going.

Resting my head back against the seat, I close my eyes. A quick nap won't hurt. After all, I had been up much earlier than I should be on a July morning. Within a few minutes, I'm fast asleep.

☼ ☼ ☼

"Hey, Carter," someone says from beside me.

I grunt in response, my eyes remaining closed.

"Come on, we're here."

I open my eyes. Tammy is leaning closer to me, her hand on my shoulder. She smiles once she sees that I'm awake and pulls away. "You were out solid. I don't blame you, I was starting to nod off a while back."

I rub my eyes and run a hand—or at least try to—through my curly hair. I look up and notice that Joan is now standing at the front of the bus, megaphone in hand.

"Campers!" she smiles with her free hand resting on her hip. "Welcome to Camp Camazotz! I know most of you are tired and need to stretch but please do not wander. We will be grabbing our bags and taking them with us to the main lodge where we will have orientation. I promise that we will try to get through it as quickly as we can so we can go for lunch."

A few kids sigh at the mention of an orientation. Others stay quiet, still too tired to complain.

Joan holds up her hand, signaling the campers to quiet down. "Alright guys, let's go."

☼ ☼ ☼

The main lodge is much bigger than I expected. It reminds me of the longhouses I learned about when social studies was a thing. When we enter, we follow a long hallway leading into a large open room. The long wall opposite to us is covered ceiling to floor with windows, allowing anyone inside to look outside and vice versa. Not one thing isn't wood. I didn't exactly expect anything less from a camp in the wilderness, yet I was still surprised to see just how much wood there really is here.