“The place I went didn’t have crafts or drama, though,” he continued. “Swimming and boating were big, as well as running trails, doing drills, and, by the name of the camp, you can imagine we played a lot of soccer.”
Of course that’s the kind of camp he would have gone to, Hilly huffed internally. He’d been all about his physical prowess in his younger years, and had relished in sport-guy-stuff. The man had probably never read a book in his life.
“Well, here we’re a little different,” she warned.
Maybe when she blew his mind about the type of kids they sponsored, he’d find an excuse to move on. Which, she told herself, would suit her purposes just fine. Maybe someone a little more geeky would fit the bill, better. “Our campers are here so we can attempt to boost their self-esteem.”
He didn’t respond, just tipped his head thoughtfully, so Hilly kept going.
“They’re middle-school-aged kids who’ve all been subjected to various kinds of bullying. They come here not only to find a safe haven, but hopefully to discover the best of themselves; a confidence they can then take back with them into the real world.”
“Bullying’s rough,” Cisco responded. Not with the patronizing tone she’d expected, but with actual concern in his voice. Maybe he’d become an empathetic individual, at least outwardly, after having had to deal with the public at large for his job. “How do you find the kids who need you?” he asked.
She launched back in. He’d asked, so he’d get an earful.
“They’ve been recommended to us by their teachers and guidance counselors as kids who’ve been subjected to all kinds of ridicule from their peers. I read their profiles, then meet with each of them along with their parents or guardians, attempting to glean what they expect to get from our camp, and whether we’ll be a fit for their needs. I don’t talk down to them, or judge, but when making my decisions, I’m realistic enough to know we can’t be all things to all kids. Which means I vet them thoroughly before accepting them into our program.”
Admitting the camp wasn’t for everyone who was bullied, was tough. “We’re unfortunately not equipped right now to deal with children who suffer from mental illness, although someday I hope to offer shorter programs and trained staff for those kinds of kids in need. The campers who do end up here are the periphery ones who are struggling to find themselves and their place in the world. We’re trying to give that to them.”
“Admirable,” Cisco grunted, looking like his mind was churning. “I’m glad you told me. Now I can tailor my self-defense courses around building self-awareness, as well as for protective purposes.”
Hilly swallowed, knowing Cisco had passed her first test. The carefree youngster she’d known, who’d probably noticed that bullying existed, but with the exception of a few times, ignored it, had clearly grown up to be more thoughtful. “Exactly what I’d hope your courses would do,” she told him honestly, then cleared her throat. She didn’t need to start thinking good things about Cisco—sports-god—Andera.
“Let’s get on with the tour, shall we?” she grumbled.
“Lead the way,” he answered genially, but she hadn’t missed the confused look he sent her way at her returned sourness.
Hilly tried to mitigate her pissy mood, knowing he was perplexed by it. “As you probably noticed, the structure we just left is not only our dining hall, but the place where we hold meetings, have craft time, and where the kids put on shows, writing and directing the things they star in.”
Cisco snorted. “I might have to sit in on some of those sessions,” he chuckled. “I’ve never been much of an actor or a writer.”
“Don’t let the kids hear you say that,” Hilly grunted, not liking that this modest side of Cisco was charming. “You’ll find yourself in a wig, spouting soliloquies if they think they can con you into it.”
“They’d dare do that?”
Hilly let a bit of a real smile peek out. “Don’t let their bullied status fool you,” she told him. “Most of these kids have extremely high IQs, and when they feel comfortable in their environment, they’ll use their brains not only for good, but for the most devious kinds of evil.”
Cisco grinned. “Now that I can relate to. I remember a few pranks I participated in when I was at camp.”
Probably “pants-ing” the nerds, or giving “swirlies” in the boys’ toilets, but Hilly didn’t ask him to elaborate on his misdeeds. She was trying to see him as an uninteresting adult, not the clueless golden-boy she’d crushed on from afar.
She walked him toward her cabin and gestured. “This is where I live and maintain an office during the season. It’s pretty much just a place to sleep and do paperwork, as I spend most of my time helping out and supervising around camp.”
He nodded, taking everything in.
“The big structure next to my cabin is our equipment barn. It houses all our boats, floats, and sports paraphernalia.”
He moved away to take a quick gander in through the large, open doors, then his footsteps carried him around to the long side of the barn.
“What are the closed wooden doors here where windows ought to be?”
Right. That was a task that remained on her agenda for later in the day. “It’s a separate part of the bigger building that houses our camp store, or commissary. It’s still closed up, but we’ll be airing it out this afternoon and doing inventory to see if critters have done damage to our souvenirs over the winter. We don’t keep food in there off-season. Fresh candy and snacks will be delivered early Monday morning so we can offer the kids items that aren’t available in the dining hall.”
“Got it.”
Cisco then turned his attention to the picnic tables that had already—with help from her counselors earlier—been taken from the barn and placed all around the area. “This is a nice cool spot under the trees.”
“Right,” she agreed. “And if you look over there…” she turned him toward the lake then walked him to another structure that sat twenty feet back from the beach. She’d had the open-air edifice built just last fall, and was proud of it. “This is our new outdoor arena where our campers can play when the weather is bad and they don’t want to be sequestered inside.”
She stepped onto the as yet unmarked concrete, with Cisco a step behind, looking around with satisfaction.
The structure was a forty-five by seventy-six-foot slab, covered by a roof held up with wooden poles. There were basketball nets hung on either end, with soccer nets also standing at the ready beneath them. As much as Hilly had hated sports in middle-school—they’d always been angst-ridden events; being chosen last to play, having two left feet and getting jeered at—she’d erected this place on purpose.
“We help our campers learn to navigate interactive games without the pressure of peers who might be looking down on them for not being as athletic as they are.”
Cisco walked over to a basket of balls that had been put out just this morning, and plucked out a soccer ball, dropping it to the ground where he proceeded to expertly juggle it with his high, polished boots.
Hilly wanted to say, “like that” but when she looked at Cisco’s face, she could see he wasn’t trying to show off, it was more like…he was going through the motions unconsciously, in the same way someone would bite their nails.
“I could help out with soccer drills,” he offered, then laughed, which made Hilly’s heart pump a little erratically. The man was fine to look at, but when his face lit up with a smile, he stole the sun from the sky. “Just a caveat, though. I’m not all that good at basketball.”
Hilly would bet that was a lie. There probably wasn’t a sport in which the man didn’t excel, post middle-school. But she wasn’t the kid she’d once been, either. During her late high school and college years, she’d had the right mentors and coaches, and was now more than proficient on a basketball court. A little one-on-one with Cisco might…
No. She needed to shut that fantasy scenario down. Even though the one-on-one she’d just imagined was vertical, it could still be dangerous.
Hilly tried to ignore Cisco’s ongoing, fancy footwork, and turned toward her right. “I’ll show you our guest cabins,” she offered crisply.
With one practiced flip of his foot, the ball went right back into the basket.
