Hilly headed to the single bathroom, and showered quickly before Buffy got up. She knew the noise she made wouldn’t disturb her roommate. Buffy was a champion sleeper, and could snooze through a marching band.
Once she was finished, she donned her unofficial uniform of cut-offs and a t-shirt before she keyed up her mic and made the 7:30 announcements.
“Good morning, all! Another gorgeous day out there. The breakfast menu from Mrs. S today includes corned beef hash, and scrambled eggs. Make sure you fill those bellies, because instead of our regular morning routine, we’re all headed out on buses for a morning hike. Our target is a short, two-mile loop, but the hill I have in mind gives us a great view of our lake when you’re at the top.”
It was a hike Hilly had included in her agenda for the past two seasons. The campers grumbled a bit, but ended up feeling pretty good about themselves after making the small climb. Which was the point. Hilly tried to cheer her kids on at every opportunity, showing, rather than telling them they could accomplish whatever they set out to do.
And the jaunt would also keep Hilly busy during the morning hours, hopefully stopping her brain from perseverating on Cisco’s pending appearance after lunch.
Hilly gave the campers a few more tantalizing disclosures, including info about the match between Cisco and Crash that all the kids would attend later. She finished by telling them to get a move on. The buses she’d leased for the morning from the Orono School District would leave camp at nine o’clock, sharp.
The door to Buffy’s room swung open, and the yawning woman emerged. “Does it have to be morning?” she groused, then stumbled over to the coffee machine, next to which Hilly had poured her a big mugful. Black.
“You’re a life-saver, Hilly,” she groaned, cradling the cup in both hands, breathing in the life-giving dark liquid. She took a huge gulp. “So good.”
Hilly hadn’t yet asked Buffy about her plans for the day. “Are you hanging out here, or would you like to go hiking with us?” she asked.
“It depends. What grown-ups are staying behind? You’ll need some, you know, to sit out just in case a few kids opt not to participate.”
“You’re right,” Hilly agreed with a smirk. “There are always a few who either pretend to be sick, or really are. But Adeline and Mrs. S have already said they’ll keep an eye on things, here. So if you want to join us, feel free.”
“I think I will,” Buffy said, already looking more lively for the coffee infusion. “I need to break in my new hiking boots, after all.”
An hour and a half later, Hilly counted heads as the kids and counselors headed onto the buses. Out of one-hundred campers, ninety-six had opted to go on the trip, with every counselor also joining in. This morning, at least, there seemed to be no tension amongst the teenagers, so Bailey must be behaving herself.
Hilly would supervise on one bus, while Crash and Buffy managed the other. It was a short trip to the small climb, only fifteen minutes, but the kids were bouncing off the walls, so they’d need a few well-placed words to keep them in their seats until they arrived.
By the time they got to the top of the small rise, the kids were extremely pleased with themselves, which had been the goal.
Hilly praised everyone, then let them loose to have some fun.
“Great job, guys. And now you can relax. Mrs. S has put your name on snack bags and bundled them into your labeled day-packs, so feel free to eat, then wander around and enjoy the view. But stay where we can see you. We’ll hang out here for a half hour or so, then we’ll head back.”
Hilly settled in on a flat rock with a view of the lake, Buffy and Crash joining her.
“Man, I could get used to all this Maine wilderness,” Crash stated, popping a handful of granola into his mouth. “Don’t get me wrong. I love San Antonio, but this…” He swept an arm across the vista, his appreciation clear.
“This is nothing, Crash,” Hilly informed him with a grin. “We Mainers don’t consider this area the boonies at all. While well north of here, there’s a vast area called the Hundred Mile Wilderness if you really want to get the full Maine experience.”
“No thanks,” Crash answered with a chuckle. “This is enough trees for me.”
“Yup. The east coast has a lot to offer, Crash,” Buffy put in. “You and Adeline should visit me in Boston sometime.” She laid back to soak up some sun. “It’s more civilized than this, but if you take a half hour to an hour’s drive in most directions, you can always find some awesome hiking. Not to mention the Atlantic Ocean is right there.”
“Not that you take advantage of either,” Hilly teased. Her friend was normally a bookworm.
Buffy snorted. “Maybe I’m just biding my time until I can find a hot man to get active with. And speaking of hot men…”
“Nope.” Hilly held up a hand. “We are not talking about Cisco with Crash listening. Do you want him to believe that all we talk about is men when we hang out?”
“Don’t you?” Crash laughed. “When Adeline gets together with her posse, which is now…geeze, fifteen women strong?” He looked momentarily amazed. “They share all that shit. And I know it’s true, because I get the cleaned-up versions of what they’ve discussed, once she’s home.”
Hilly grinned. “I don’t—”
“Miss Hilly! Miss Hilly! Something’s wrong with Bailey!” A girl’s voice interrupted, shrieking.
The three of them leapt to their feet, Crash grabbing the first-aid bag he’d brought along.
They sped across the rocks to where Bailey was clearly down on the ground, grabbing at her throat and gasping for air.
“What happened?” Crash took charge and knelt next to Bailey while Hilly and Buffy kept the kids back, all except for the one who’d alerted them.
“She was eating snacks with me, and all of a sudden she just started making an awful noise, then she fell over,” the little girl, Farah, told Crash, with tears streaming down her cheeks.
Hilly’s brain kicked in. “She has a peanut allergy, Crash. There must have been residue or something in her bag.”
Crash quickly unzipped his medical kit with his one good hand and grabbed an epi-pen. Placing it against Bailey’s thigh he depressed the auto-injector, then took it away and watched Bailey’s face, carefully.
It was the longest thirty-seconds of Hilly’s life, but eventually the counselor’s breathing became easier, and her features relaxed.
Crash soothed her. “You’re doing fine, Bailey. Everything’s going to be okay.”
The girl looked out of it, but managed a nod.
“Call for an ambulance,” Crash told Hilly. “The epinephrine will only last in her system for twenty-minutes or so, and if she has a relapse, we want her to be enroute to the hospital.”
