Chapter 20: Summer Camp Counselor

Kennedy stood in line for the busses once again. Deja vu, right? She smiled to herself. Last year she had tried to show herself as brimming over with self-confidence, while in reality she was terribly shy and nervous. Well, summer camp had fixed all of that.

To make her day perfect, she saw Ferinc with a girl in tow. The girl was supposed to be twelve now, but she looked more like eight or nine. Ferinc didn't hesitate about cutting in the line. He went right up to Kennedy and presented the young woman. "Kennedy, this is my granddaughter, Rosalie. Rosalie, this is Kennedy."

The girl gave Kennedy a quick glance and then stared, bored, into the distance. She was about five feet tall, dark skinned, dark eyes and black hair. Roma, in other words.

It was a warm morning, Kennedy thought. Really warm. What would be cool in several senses was to strip down to the buff. Hers hand went in motion, to start unbuttoning her blouse buttons.

Abruptly she felt like she'd felt the year before when Ferinc had cast some sort of truth spell on her. Her hands stopped and she glared at the young girl.

Rosalie's face was suddenly contorted, her fingers working on undoing the lowest button on her blouse. "Oh! Oh! Oh! Please say stop! Please!"

The next two buttons went and the girl was clearly panic stricken. "Oh! Please! Please! Say stop! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Please! Oh no!"

The last two words came when she finished the last button on her blouse.

"Stop."

Rosalie turned away, hastily buttoning up. Kennedy raised an eyebrow and Ferinc shook his head. "I warned her."

He tossed Kennedy a salute, turned and walked away without another word.

"I hate my fucking family," Rosalie said bitterly, still facing away from Kennedy.

"Hey, at your age, I didn't like mine either. I still don't like my mother. My stepfather and my stepsister -- they're a lot nicer once I got past my hang-ups and they got past theirs. We're not bosom buddies or anything, but we can talk and get along."

"How did you do that?"

"Do what?"

Rosalie rolled her eyes. "You know what."

"I don't know. I know I don't like it when people try to get me to do things I don't want to."

"I'm supposed to be the most powerful witch of the Roma alive today."

"I'm not Roma," Kennedy explained.

"What are you?"

"Kennedy, plain and simple, except at Faire, and then I become Lady Kennedy. A little more formal, but not much."

Harriet joined them. "I don't know, Kennedy, I tried to get on the same bus, but they just wouldn't let me."

"Move to Scarsdale," Kennedy joked.

Harriet giggled. "I'll ask my mother. Sure, why not?"

"Harriet this is Rosalie, Ferinc's granddaughter. Rosalie, this is Harriet, my first and best friend."

Rosalie looked from Kennedy to Harriet and back again. "You two have done it?"

"That, Rosalie, is a question that's rude to ask at the best of times and at Camp Wanakena will get you sent home. Do you want to set some sort of record, getting sent home before you even get on the bus to go there?" Kennedy asked.

Rosalie waved airily. "No one can hear us. Don't get your panties in an uproar."

Kennedy blinked. What had she done before? She didn't cast spells, there was no incantations, ingredients, none of that. What had she done, the two times she'd broken spells?

Then she felt it. It was a bubble around them. Rosalie was looking at Kennedy with a supercilious grin. "No, this time it's not aimed at y..." her voice stopped, even though her mouth kept working. In a second Rosalie was clearly worked up again.

Harriet laughed. "Good grief! What's that?"

"She's like Ruby, only she's a real witch. She cast a spell that prevented anyone close by from hearing us. I changed it so it applies to her and no one else."

"Cool! There are times when my mom and I are sewing together and she starts talking ... Oh! What I'd give for a spell so I couldn't hear her!"

Rosalie had dipped into her backpack, pulled out pencil and paper and wrote something on it, then held it up.

"'Say Negato, '" Harriet read. "What does that mean?"

Rosalie was pointing to Kennedy, still trying vainly to speak.

"At a guess, that's how to break the spell. But evidently you can't do it. Evidently Rosalie can't either. I wonder who could do it?"

Rosalie was clearly furious.

Kennedy smiled. "I want you to write on that paper 'I will not use magic except to save someone else's life or my own life or to keep someone from harm.' Sign it, prick your thumb and seal it in blood," Kennedy told Rosalie.

Kennedy turned to Harriet. "Mr. Glastonbury has had me doing a lot of reading this spring about magic and all sorts of interesting topics. I just didn't think I had any magic. I can't levitate a pencil. I can't create a light ball. That's all supposed to be Magic 101."

"That stuff really works?"

"So I'm told." Kennedy waved at Rosalie, who was waving imperiously, but not writing. "Seems like it does, though. Probably just a few special people."

Harriet laughed. "What a novel concept! I have to get back to my bus. I think they'll let us board here soon. I'll see you at lunch!"

"Lunch. This time we have to try Wendy's."

Harriet laughed and headed for her bus.

Kennedy looked at Rosalie. "Add, 'until camp is over' how about that?"

Rosalie grimaced and quickly wrote and signed the oath. A second later she handed the sheet to Kennedy.

"Like I told my friend, I've been reading up on things. Even if this contract were to vanish in a puff of flame, it would still have force, right?"

Rosalie nodded glumly.

"Good. Negato."

"I'm going punch you in the nose!" Rosalie said firmly.

"Well, if I were you, I'd make sure that would work, too."

"It's not magic! I'm pretty strong!"

"So am I, plus I'm bigger than you are. Does your magic let you look inside things."

"If I want to. I thought I wasn't supposed to use magic?"

"Except to save yourself or someone else from harm. Have a go at my big suitcase -- and save yourself from harm."

Rosalie frowned, then looked hard at the wheelie-bag.

"I can't see what's in there. It looks like an umbrella, but it's not."

"It's Lady Kennedy, an eleven pound bastard sword. You might want to think who is stronger, someone who can swing Lady Kennedy for hours or someone who would have trouble lifting her up."

Rosalie grimaced. Abruptly, she looked beyond Kennedy. "Gosh, I'm not alone! Here comes someone else who doesn't like you either!"

Kennedy turned and saw Clarice and Pipes coming towards her.

Kennedy rolled her eyes.

"I thought you were in Switzerland or something?" Kennedy told Clarice.

"I came home early. It's not like they can tell my father I can't get credit for my classes that I had perfect marks in."

"Pipes?"

"Miss Kennedy, my friend wishes Clarice to get a slightly different view of the world. Something other than a ghetto for the very, very rich. He thought you might be able to take her in hand and see that she had a good time."

Kennedy saw Clarice go pale. "You didn't phrase that very well, Pipes. I'm already looking after Rosalie here; I'll be happy to add Clarice to the list. I'm a junior councilor; hopefully I'll have enough pull to get her into my cabin. Rosalie is already there."

"Oh, my friend set it up with the very nice woman who runs things at the camp. A free spirit, that one!"

"Rosalie is Ferinc's granddaughter. You remember -- you met him at my New Year's Eve party."

"I remember," Pipes's voice went cold and flat, his eyes turned to flint. "One of these days I'll run into him again and be able to express my sympathies for his injuries."

He turned to Clarice. "You understand the stakes, don't you?"

"School in White Plains next fall if I mess up. Loss of my credit cards, my allowance, all of that. Yeah, I understand. If I can endure nine months of academic hell, I can endure two weeks in the mountains. I won't make any trouble and I don't need a nanny." She laughed. "You don't know the temptation to mess up, though. I could do without the credit cards, if I still had my allowance. I'd cheerfully give up one or the other to go to any other school."

"And if you behave, I'll explain it to my father-in-law, eh?"

"Yes, sir."

People were loading onto the bus, and the three of them ended up at the wide seat at the back of the bus. Kennedy wondered if she was tempting fate when she sat in the middle, between them, not able to look out the windows. But Larkin was dead and Dik-dik humiliated. She didn't expect any trouble this year.

Rosalie was sitting next to the window, while Clarice was the third of the four people sitting in the rear of the bus. Another girl, roughly Clarice's age, sat next to her, and the two of them were soon involved in a conversation about make-up, music and guys. Kennedy tuned it out. Rosalie, on the other hand, was interested in looking out the window and not interested in talking at all.

Mr. Glastonbury had simply shaken her hand and wished her a good time. In a way, that left her feeling ten feet tall and ultra-proud. No cautions, no warnings. He was expecting her to behave, assumed she'd behave and had, instead of worrying, made sure she had a half dozen good history books to read.

The best news was that both Slayers had survived a near-apocalypse. In a way it was funny and ironic, all at once. The cheerleader Slayer had burned down part of her high school as a sophomore. For graduation, she'd burned her high school flat. Granted, that had been about the only way to kill a fifty-foot long snake demon, but still ... it was amusing.

What wasn't amusing was Mr. Glastonbury's story about the second Slayer. "She killed a human," he told her. "She tried to cover it up, but the Watcher turned her in to the Council. The Watchers Council, in its infinite wisdom, fired the Watcher and sent a new one. I know the lad; a stripling without experience ... and mostly lacking backbone.

"They thought the second Slayer had settled down, was following the prescribed training regimen. But she had been seduced by the dark side."

"Of the force?" Kennedy had asked, laughing at her wit.

"Of Evil. Faith has killed a whole lot more than one human now; we don't know how many. The Slayer went and took Faith out, intending to kill her. Buffy failed, but the false Slayer was severely injured, even for a Slayer. She's in a coma, and the doctors don't expect her to regain consciousness. I suspect she will, but it won't be for months. And then, odds are, she won't remember what's happened."

"But the current Slayer is well, right?"

"She's well and facing no apocalyptic threats that we know of. Go, have a good time this summer. Don't worry about these sorts of things."

So, that's what she was intending to repeat. Last year Agent Larkin had been disposed of quickly, she'd learned some things about herself and others and Ruby had been tamed and the last ten days of camp had indeed been a wonderful time in Kennedy's life.

At lunch she and Harriet spent the time together, and yes, there were touches and hand-holding. Kennedy grinned. Her times with Harriet had to be rare, but this was as good a time as any!

Clarice had made a new friend, and that girl had introduced Clarice to a circle of like-minded girls. Kennedy was fairly sure Clarice was going to fit in well. Rosalie stuck close to Kennedy, although she made it quite clear she thought being romantic with Harriet was "icky."

Kennedy had, however, been disposed to be reasonable. "If you want a babysitter, I'll babysit you. If you try my babysitting patience, I can guarantee to watch you like a hawk. That will include making your schedule match mine. You might not like that. Unless you show me you can't be trusted, I'll trust you to make your own choices."

"It's not like I can do anything on my own. Lauren Tredegar..."

"Will listen to me if I explain things to her."

"Like, she'll do something that the king or my father wouldn't like! Sure!"

"You don't know Lauren, do you? Or anything about her camp?"

"She shears rich people from their money."

"Do you know what quid pro quo means?" Kennedy asked.

"Sure. You scratch my back, I scratch yours."

"Pretty much, that's it. That's what Lauren does. Quid pro quo. The rich people give her buckets of money to let their kids come to her camp. She gives us a good time. We go home happy, the parents are happy and line up to get their kids accepted for next year."

"The king and my father told me she cheats people."

"She cheats the king and your father, not the kids, not their parents."

Rosalie's eyes bugged out. "She's cheating the king?"

"Quid pro quo, again. The king thinks she's cheating people, and she gives him a big chunk of money, more than he could explain using any other explanation. As you may have noticed, evidently he has a tiny imagination."

"He doesn't have any imagination at all! He thinks I'll sign a binding spell for him like you made me sign. You just don't want me messing with you or your friends. That's cool. But sign one with him? Ha! I'd be dead in a couple of years."

"And if you don't sign?"

"They know that whatever happens to me will happen to both of them. I expect some really clever attempts at getting that contract signed and sealed."

"You signed one for me."

"It wasn't to keep you safe, it was to keep me from hurting others. Any others. I know the difference. The king isn't going to want me to sign something like that. Oh no, he has a long, long list of people he wants me to mess with. Some small, some big."

"You seem to accept what they have planned for you."

Rosalie shook her head. "I'm not strong enough yet to stop them. Grandpa says to trust you like no other. If he's lying ... I'd rather be dead."

"He's not lying. Do you know about my party?"

The younger girl shook her head. "What party?"

"Clarice knows, Harriet knows. When we have time, I'll tell you about it. My party is where Ferinc, your grandfather, got hurt."

Harriet had been sitting quietly, eating her salad. "Do you have nightmares?" she asked Rosalie.

After a dramatic pause, Harriet went on.

"Because if you don't, after Kennedy explains, you will. I used to have baby nightmares. I could wake up from them, think of something nice and fall back asleep and the dream would be nice. Now I've seen a real nightmare. I've lived it. It wasn't Kennedy's fault; in fact, it was nearly as much my fault as anyone's. But ... it was awful. Really awful."

"Your old enemies," Kennedy said, trying to clue Rosalie in.

"My old enemies?"

"The oldest enemies of the Roma," Kennedy clarified.

Rosalie's mouth formed an "O" of surprise. "I thought those were stories."

"And I thought magic was stories, until I saw it used last summer. All sorts of things are too real for comfort."

Rosalie was silent for nearly twenty minutes, until they were called for the bus. She stood up and touched Kennedy's arm. "Grandpa told me I had to grow up fast or I wouldn't grow up at all. He throws tricks and puzzles at me. Some I can use magic on, some I have to think about. I never know which I'm supposed to use. I thought this was supposed to be about magic. Now, I guess, I need to think."

"I do a lot of that myself," Kennedy admitted.

"You think a dress design hops from your brain, down onto pattern material, then you can just cut and sew?" Harriet added.

"The next two weeks," Kennedy told them, foreclosing further discussion along the current line, "are about having a good time. We will have a good time."

After lunch it was back to the buses. Clarice was wrapped up in her new friends; Kennedy wondered how Clarice was going to handle that, because two of the girls Kennedy recognized from the year before and they'd been quite a hot couple.

Rosalie, on the other hand, was already following Kennedy's directions. It seemed as though the closer the bus got to camp the happier she was. Charlotte walked the length of the bus, stopping to talk to several people, finally reaching the end. "Kennedy, how are you?"

"Fine, Charlotte."

"Lauren has asked me if I'd be comfortable having a cabin of younger girls this year," her eyes met Kennedy's. "I told her I wasn't sure that was such a good idea. We talked about it at length and decided that it would be good to give Amy her own cabin this year. You two got along really well last year, so I'm hoping you won't be disappointed in being with Amy rather than me."

"Like I said about wrong trees," Kennedy said, "it's still true."

Charlotte laughed. "I understood that quite clearly. And who are your friends?"

"This is Rosalie, she's Ferinc's granddaughter. Do you remember him? He's the camp lawyer. He came to help Deb after that problem came up last summer."

"How do you do, young lady?" Charlotte acknowledged with a grin.

Rosalie looked at Charlotte, who was staring at Rosalie's breasts. "Charming, it isn't," Rosalie told Charlotte.

"Like Kennedy you have to understand that things at Camp Wanakena, so far as we can manage, run at your own pace. So long as you don't offend the camp rules, you can pretty much do as you please, even if it means sitting someplace out in the woods, staring at a leaf or a rock."

"Kennedy has been clear about that," Rosalie told her. "I'm going to have a good time."

"Good. And your other friend?"

Clarice gave Charlotte a withering glance and turned away to talk to one of her new friends.

"I'm not sure we're friends," Kennedy admitted. "What are the odds she could be in my cabin?"

"Nil. She's too old, Kennedy. She can be in my cabin."

Clarice turned to Charlotte. "Look, I can see it in your eyes. My grandfather is the head of one of New York's Mafia families. One phone call from me and..."

Kennedy laughed. "I thought what happened to your brother should have clued you in that he doesn't like it when you take his name in vain. Try what Rosalie did ... standing on your own two feet. I know for a fact Charlotte understands 'no' and 'stop.'"

One of the other girls leaned close and whispered urgently in Clarice's ear. Kennedy made a note to thank the girl later, because not everyone would have been comfortable talking to someone like Clarice, not after she announced to the universe who her grandfather was.

"Two years ago," Clarice said, almost spitting, "my brother came in my room the night I got home from school for Christmas. I go to school in Europe; I don't come home that often. He grabbed me, slapped me around a few times, then fucked me bowlegged, hitting me every few seconds when I objected. I told him if he ever did it again, I'd tell."

"Pity about all those other girls you could have helped if you told the first time," Kennedy said bitterly.

"Maybe. I got back to school and I was depressed and didn't give a damn about anything. Two girls from my class came into my room one night and took turns holding me down while the other used a dildo on me. 'There, ' they told me, 'that'll cheer you up!' If my counselor hadn't been a saint, I'd have killed myself."

"Nothing any of us can do," Charlotte told her seriously, "can change anything about what happened to you in the past. We can, though, show you that it wasn't the end of the world and there's hope for the future."

"Someone beat you to it," Clarice said. "But whenever I see that hungry look in someone's eyes when they look at me -- I get pissed. And I'm not going to apologize for that."

"You should be pissed and I apologize," Charlotte told her. "We're off on the wrong foot and that's not a good thing. You can change cabins if you want, but I swear I'll never bother you. Ever."

Clarice was silent. "My shrink says the stupidest thing I'm doing is getting pissed at anyone who looks at me. People are sexual, she told me. Most of them, though, want you to love them and understand you don't get love by forcing someone. No, I'll stay." She grimaced. "This is a kind of therapy, my shrink said. She said it would do me good. My uncle said the same thing, so does my grandfather, my cousin..."

Kennedy was aware that Clarice didn't mention her parents. Well, she'd have had a tough time mentioning hers most of the time, too.

Charlotte went more quickly back to her seat than she'd taken to walk the length of the bus. Clarice went back to her new friends. Kennedy watched for a few seconds, but there didn't seem to any change after Clarice had told everyone who her grandfather was.

Was it because most of the kids going to Lauren's camp really were rich kids? And so used to getting their own way, they didn't care about how "powerful" your father or grandfather was, when they had their own examples?

Then they were at camp and girls formed up as they had the last year. The main difference was that Kennedy was on the stage, this time. She saw Amy and started forward, a greeting on her lips. Amy's eyes were haunted and hollow; she looked awful, like she'd been crying for days and days.

Kennedy smiled at her and Amy managed a wan smile in return that lasted just a fraction of a second, before the look of sadness returned. Kennedy contemplated the universe and wondered just what had happened to her friend. Nothing good, she was sure.

Kennedy looked around the stage. There were a number of familiar faces, all who nodded and smiled at each other. There was a face she didn't recognize though.

The new person was a woman in her forties, blonde and rather severe in appearance. Still, her hair was cut butch short. Kennedy smiled to herself. Last year she hadn't understood the comments about dykes when Cindy had responded about the type of partner she liked. Now Kennedy did understand and she had to think the older woman was probably a dyke. Not that it was any of her business.

She'd only been paying half attention, but Lauren waved at the older woman. "Also with us this year is Professor Maggie Walsh. Dr. Walsh is a psychiatrist, working on a research project involving women's athletics. We've agreed to let her talk to each of you privately. After listening to her explanation, you can make up your own minds if you wish to participate in her study."

Kennedy stared in surprise, the words hitting a resonating chord in her mind. The bit about "talk to each of you privately" had done it. Larkin had died trying to do just that, Dik-dik probably wanted to die of embarrassment. And now Lauren had just handed someone the keys to the kingdom...

She hoped there was a simple explanation, but she had a bad feeling that there was just the one.

At the end of Lauren's speech, she gave a list of people she wanted to see afterwards. This time Amy and Kennedy headed the list.

Lauren waved the two of them into her office and then turned to Amy first. "Amy, I hate having to be blunt, but I have some serious responsibilities here. Are you going to be able to cut it?"