Chapter 7: Kennedy Gets Lost

A while later they trooped down to the dining hall. Kennedy was prepared for some pretty mediocre food after what Mr. Glastonbury had said, but evidently Lauren was spending more these days than she had at first. It wasn't up to the standards Kennedy was used to, but it was okay. Several of the other Fox cabin girls said it was a lot better than what their cafeterias at school served.

At the end of dinner, Lauren once again stood up. She went through a list of the various activities that were available; it was a surprisingly long list. Kennedy was mildly amused by the list, though. She hadn't done hardly any of the activities. Oh, Mr. Glastonbury had taught her how to swim, but rowing, softball, soccer, basketball, tennis... golf of all things! There were various outdoors type classes in animals and plants, rocks and trees.

But, for all of that, not a single session of judo or karate, no archery, fencing or kendo. Kennedy was a little bemused about the surplus of things to do that she'd never done before, and a deficit of things she was familiar with. At least she knew what her teacher would say: go with the new.

So, right after breakfast she was going to do single person sculls. She was curious about them and about Mr. Waterman. Then tennis and then the general nature class. After lunch she signed up for hiking. It was pretty clear that Charlotte wanted her to go out for soccer and baseball. Kennedy sighed a lot about that as she put her name on the sheet for those. She had never, ever, been on a team before. Again, she was quite sure what Mr. Glastonbury would have to say if he heard her grousing about it.

She finished putting her name on the last sheet, then stepped back and contemplated her schedule. It was almost funny, she thought. Here she was away from Mr. Glastonbury for two weeks, supposedly, but instead he was just down the road in town and moreover, everything she thought about, she ran past her mental image of him.

If he had been there, and if she was carrying Lady Kennedy, she'd have given him a sword salute like Duke Roger was so sparing with.

"Something's tickled your funny bone," a voice said next to Kennedy. She looked at and saw a dark young woman next to her. She was so dark-skinned that Kennedy wasn't sure what race she was.

The girl was fourteen or fifteen, black-haired and black-eyed, reminding Kennedy strongly of Lauren. Kennedy glanced at Lauren and back at the girl. The girl laughed. "Usually it takes a while for people to make the connection. Very observant! I'm Deb Saunders, poor country relation of our glorious camp director."

"I'm Kennedy," she told the other.

Deb laughed at that. "The girl with the stalker problem! I was amazed my aunt was so concerned. Usually she just makes a little voodoo doll, sticks a few pins in it, usually in personal, painful places and the problem vanishes, as it were."

Kennedy nodded and the other girl laughed.

"I'm crushed, I am. Not as bad as a gypsy curse, but not good. You don't remember me."

Kennedy looked at her and wracked her brain trying to remember the girl... and couldn't.

Deb smiled again. "Wounded to the quick, I am! I was sitting next to you at the Fox cabin dinner table a few minutes ago. But your attention was devoted to Charlie, Amy and your friend Harriet."

If Deb had been next to her at dinner, then she would have been sitting at the tables in the cabin, too. Kennedy swallowed. With the exceptions of Harriet, Charlotte and Amy, Kennedy doubted if she could recognize anyone from her cabin.

"It's my first time away from home," Kennedy apologized. "I'm home schooled and I don't get out much. To be honest, everyone's face is a blur."

"Well, I see you've got your name down for sculls. This is my fifth summer here and I tell you true, we're likely to be the only two."

"Do you know Mr. Waterman?" Kennedy asked.

Deb craned her head a little to one side. "Do his afflictions bother you?"

Afflictions? Well, that was one way to explain why a demon looked different than the people around him. "No, I was just wondering what he was like."

"If there's anything he doesn't know about small boats, it's because no one else knows it. He's a genius. When he gets done working over a scull, it's a piece of precision apparatus, as fine and as rare as a Stradivarius. Don't let his oddities throw you."

"I was curious, is all," Kennedy said.

"Curious is good," Deb replied, grinning at Kennedy. "Curious is very good."

Right then, Lauren rang a little bell and got everyone's attention. "It's a little after seven. Make sure you've got your name down for each time block for something. While you're back in your cabins freshening up, I'll be putting your names into the computer. If you don't have something you want to do, why, we'll just pick one at random for you.

"In a minute I'll dismiss you back to your cabins. I have one general comment, then an activity notice. So far you've been very good about listening until I'm finished. A few days from now, familiarity might lead you to think you can anticipate me. Don't do it. When I or any other member of our staff tells you you're dismissed, then you are -- not before. So wait until you hear me say the words.

"Last, this evening is a special evening. At eight this evening here in the dining room we'll have a mixer. That's a party where you can mix and get to meet each other. Some places have embarrassing games they play to break the ice. Me, I prefer music. So there will be music and dancing, refreshments of various sorts, a significant fraction of which contain chocolate."

There were titters around the room. "Yes, I know adults aren't supposed to admit to weaknesses, but chocolate is definitely a soft spot for me. Normally we don't encourage people to visit other cabins. Tonight you may, right up until a quarter of eleven, when you'll need to get back to your own cabins. Thus, you may be here, in your cabin or in the cabin of a friend this evening until fifteen minutes before lights out.

"In not quite two weeks, it will be the Saturday night before you leave. We will have another mixer. I'm willing to bet, you have even more fun then. Now, dismissed until eight o'clock, ladies."

Kennedy was mildly amused to see that Harriet walked back to the cabin with Charlotte, the two of them talking each other's ears off. Deb Saunders fell into step beside Kennedy.

"That girl is your friend, right?" Deb asked her.

"Yes, my best and only friend."

"Well, we can fix that last easily enough." Deb dropped her voice, "You understand that the staff and a good many of the campers are all sex-starved maniacs?"

Kennedy nodded. "Does that include you?"

"Hey, that comes under the heading of gossip! Not good! Yes, but not as much as some."

"And I'm curious, but not that curious," Kennedy told her.

"Here everything is at your own pace," Deb told her bluntly. "That's why there's a veggie track where you do nothing but go out in the woods and sit on a rock. Usually after the first Wednesday there's only one or two people left, and they come and go intermittently."

They arrived back at the cabin and Kennedy sat on her bed again, watching the rest of the girls in the cabin. She focused on their faces, trying to get to know them. Names would have to wait for later, she knew, but this was a part of her education that Mr. Glastonbury had left out. Even at Faire, with thousands of people milling around, you weren't expected to get to know them. She'd taken her introductions in small portions, one or two at a time. Meeting a couple of dozen people in one day and being expected to learn their names and faces... that was hard.

A few minutes later Harriet came by, and waved out to the porch. Kennedy went along, fairly confident she knew what Harriet was going to say.

"Kennedy..." Harriet's voice cracked and she blushed.

"Charlotte has asked if you'd like to spend the night with her, and you told her yes," Kennedy supplied. "That this is just for a night or two and doesn't affect anything about how you feel about me."

Harriet looked down at the ground; her voice was apologetic. "Yes."

"Harriet, I wish I was as adventurous as you. Of all the people here, I think I can say that I'm the most familiar with the advantages of individual tutoring."

"I was afraid you wouldn't understand."

"I understand, Harriet. You are someone special to me, you always will be. You were the first person to come up to me and tell me that you wanted me to be your friend. Today is the second time in my life I've met people I want to be friends with, but you were there first."

Kennedy leaned close and lightly brushed her lips along Harriet's cheek, like Harriet had done to Kennedy at Faire. "There is a special, warm place for you in my heart, Harriet. Always. You never, ever have to worry about it, okay?"

"I'm so ashamed."

"Harriet, I was proud when Mr. Glastonbury taught me to use Lady Kennedy. I was eager, I thought about her night and day, and I wanted to do nothing else. Be proud, Harriet, not sad or ashamed."

Harriet dropped her voice to something softer than a whisper. "I love you, Kennedy."

"I'm not sure what the word means," Kennedy told her, "so I don't know what to call how I feel. But you're my first and best friend, now and for always. If I had to, I'd die to protect you."

Harriet giggled. "You're a knight in shining armor; you'd do that for anyone."

Kennedy had to laugh. "Well... yes. But Mr. Glastonbury doesn't let me wear armor."

"If you meet someone nice... I won't mind either," Harriet said.

"I've already met a number of nice people," Kennedy responded. "It would be as easy as falling off a log. I'm just not ready yet."

Harriet giggled again, and again her voice was pitched very low. "It's way easier than falling off a log. You just do what that part of you so desperately wants."

A while later Charlotte led them all down the hill again.

It was pretty remarkable, how much the dining hall had changed in less than an hour. The tables were now lining the walls, instead of in rows in the middle of the room. Charlotte told them that tonight they could sit where they pleased, and Kennedy sat together with Harriet, Deb, Charlotte and Amy at a table.

After a few minutes of listening to a song that Kennedy didn't recognize, nor much like, Lauren spoke again.

"I give the same speech at the start of each camp; you'd think that after twenty-some times of giving the same speech, I'd have it memorized.

"Someone asked me a few minutes ago if you had to wear bras. And the answer to that is, it depends. A good many of you don't need one. Some of you, though, need one even if you don't realize it. I'm going to be blunt about a woman's health issue that rarely gets aired, ladies.

"When I was your age in school, the big thing was to have breasts that were big enough to slide a pencil underneath and have the pencil stay in place. At the time, I thought that was quite wonderful, because I could do that! Then my doctor took me to task for not wearing a bra.

"You know how you hold that pencil up? It's because your breast sags. What happens is that the connective tissues in a woman's breast are capable of holding up just so much weight for so long without help.

"Now, maybe you are comfortable with having to pick belly button lint off your nipples, but I never thought it was that attractive. Some of you are already sagging. Wear a bra, ladies and you won't be cured... but you won't be getting worse.

"This camp is where you get to choose what you want to do -- within limits. If you want to go around without underwear, that's your business. You will wear shoes, shorts or jeans and at least a t-shirt long enough to cover your navel. And now, back to the music!"

She put on another CD track that was recognizably a woman singing, but Kennedy still didn't like the song. "You don't like the Black-eyed Peas?" Deb asked, laughing.

"Never heard of them," Kennedy told her. "Most of the music I've heard is classical. If I understand the lyrics, I don't think I approve."

"Modern music is an acquired taste," Charlotte agreed. "But don't let Deb fool you... she has much loftier tastes."

"Sarah Brightman," Deb said. "I've got every CD of hers they've released."

Deb turned to Kennedy. "Sarah Brightman is married to Andrew Lloyd Webber who wrote musicals like Joseph, Evita, Cats, Jesus Christ Superstar and Phantom of the Opera."

"They were married, Deb," Charlotte told her, with emphasis on the past tense verb. "They got divorced a few years ago."

"I pretend it didn't happen. Andrew Lloyd Webber is brilliant, simply a brilliant composer. And he wrote the music just for her to sing; I mean, it was designed for her voice. Why would you want divorce someone who wrote music like that for you?"

"It takes all kinds," Charlotte said. "Actually, the thought of marrying anyone leaves me kind of dizzy."

"Well, men..." Harriet said.

Charlotte patted Harriet's hand fondly. "Dear heart, marry anyone, anyone at all. Maybe some day I'll want to settle down, but for now, I'm content to be a butterfly."

Harriet looked a little embarrassed, and Kennedy gave her hand a little squeeze of encouragement. "At least you could think of something to say," Kennedy whispered into Harriet's ear. That brought a giggle from Harriet.

"And here, I thought I didn't have a jealous bone in my body," Charlotte laughed. "But anyone who can bring a quick smile and a giggle is someone to be jealous of!"

Kennedy decided that the other was pulling her leg. "I just told her that at least she could think of something to say. I don't suppose we can steer the conversation around to Bach? Beethoven? Mozart?"

There were more laughs. After a bit, Charlotte took Harriet's hand and they went and danced. At least, that's what Kennedy assumed they were doing. There were a lot of gyrations and the music beat was much faster than anything she'd ever learned from Mr. Glastonbury.

"You haven't a clue, do you?" Deb said to Kennedy.

"I thought I could dance a little, but this..." All Kennedy could do was shake her head in amazement.

"Would you dance a slow one with me?" Deb asked.

Kennedy turned to her. "You want me," she told Deb.

Deb shrugged. "I wouldn't put it quite like that, but yes."

"I'm not ready, okay?"

Deb laughed at her. "I asked you to dance, not to go to bed, Kennedy. It's fine and wonderful being bright, smart, intelligent and all of that. But use some common sense, sometimes. Now and again, people mean what they say. When you try to read hidden meanings into everything people say, you're going to be clueless what they actually mean, about who they really are.

"Sure, I want to dance with you so I can get to know you better. So you can get to know me better. I also like to dance. And yes, I've thought about you and me... but that's down the road a ways, for me as well as you. In case it's escaped your attention, if someone my age has sex with someone your age, that's rape. They'd try me as an adult and I could spend a good long time in prison. Thanks, but no thanks!"

Kennedy's first thought was to retort that that didn't seem to worry Charlotte. But the sudden realization came that Harriet wouldn't tell anyone about it, even if they tortured her. And Kennedy had no intentions about telling anyone about her own experiences, when she finally got around to having those sorts of experiences. So her first thought about Charlotte was wrong, her first thought about Deb was wrong.

"As near as I can tell," Kennedy said after a minute, "I become totally unhinged when the subject comes up."

Deb leaned close and whispered into Kennedy's ear. "That's what it does. When you consider the objective facts of love-making, where and what you kiss, where your tongue and fingers go, all of the various fluids involved -- it's gross. If sex didn't make us all a little unhinged, we'd grow up to be spinsters who've never known the joy of sex."

And some did that, Kennedy realized. Well, she'd had periods, she had worked out often enough that a little sweat didn't bother her. But Deb was right about the rest.

"Ah! A slow dance! One thing about my aunt! She's as unhinged as the rest of us!"

Deb grabbed Kennedy's hand, and a moment later they were on the dance floor. Kennedy had paid only half a mind to the dancing, but once she was out among the other dancers a great truth dawned on her: everyone in the dining room was a woman. Everyone dancing was a woman.

And as soon as the music started, the lights dimmed and some of the couples became quite passionate. Kennedy spent most of the first part of the dance watching everyone else, amazed at what people would do in public. Truly amazing!

When she finally focused on Deb, she realized that she'd made a mistake. Deb had been focused on Kennedy since they'd left the table. They were dancing with their breasts in light contact and Kennedy's nipples were painfully hard. Not only that, the feeling between her legs that so often graced her dreams was present and more than curious. Quite a bit more than curious.

Deb grinned. "My, when you focus on something, the rest of the world goes away."

"Sorry."

Deb lightly dragged her breasts across Kennedy's again. "Do you want me to stop?"

Kennedy could barely manage a weak laugh. "Damned if I know!"

"Well, let's just say that I know my aunt and this song. You're saved the choice!"

The music came to a stop and the lights came back up.