Summer Camp
Episode 29: "Daddy ... Help... !"

Copyright© 2011 by Cor

That evening, after lights out, the girls of cabin 7 continued to talk about the disaster. Finally, Heather couldn't take it anymore. With a brusque shove, she pushed open her bedding and jumped to the floor.

"It's unfair... ! I'm going to call Dad..."

Making sure she was 'properly attired' in shorts and tee shirt (she didn't want to get into any more trouble than she would be for roaming after hours), she snuck out the cabin and headed for the pay-phone at the admin building. Five minutes later, she was back, crying openly.

Between sobs, she explained that Hartwell's people had padlocked the phone. On hearing this, Karen was furious...

"It's bad enough that 'sour lemon' Hartwell fires Jennifer; the best head counselor there ever was but this goes beyond what they're allowed to get away with ... They have no right to keep a child from calling her parents. Does anybody have any suggestions?"

Samantha spoke up. "I can think of one thing ... there's a payphone at the municipal dock..."

"But how do we get there?"

"Leave that to me..." Jumping out of her top bunk as well, she headed out the door. Contrary to the other girls, she had always ignored Hartwell's orders to wear 'proper' sleepwear; she wore what she always did – nothing. With Karen trotting close behind, she walked with a determined step to cabin 6 and stormed in.

"Robert, wake up!" she said it loud enough to wake up everyone.

"What?!"

"You and I are stealing a canoe ... Karen needs to call her father and Hartwell's bunch locked the phone. We're taking her to the municipal dock."

"NOW?! Okay ... give me sec." He crawled out of bed and into a pair of shorts (he had always admired his sister's brazenness but had never had the courage to do it so openly- he preferred to work in the shadows.)

"Guys, if we're not back at dawn, we'll hide out on Skinny Dipper Island for the day. Cover for us, Okay... ? Don't tell anybody but Lisa and Pete, and then only if they ask."

In short order, the three had reached the canoe rack. While Samantha and Karen chose the fastest canoe the camp had (a low-bodied, triple keeled Kevlar lake canoe that was off-limits to all but senior staff), Robert went to get some paddles. They were locked in a metal storage cabinet because porcupines just loved to chew the handles (because of the salt left by sweaty hands) but as for all the other important things at camp, he had memorized the combination years ago. Tonight, instead of the sleek beaver-tail paddles he usually preferred, he chose a pair of wide bladed racing paddles.

Tossing the wider of the two paddles to Sam, he hopped into the bow. While Sam steadied the canoe, Karen crawled into the middle and then Sam shoved off and jumped into the stern. Timing her stroke to the beat Robert had set, she started paddling as well. Within seconds, they were making enough speed to raise a wake. Aiming for a stretch of clear water about halfway between Skinny Dipper Island and the shore to their left, they paddled. With every stroke, Robert rose to his knees and reached as far forward as possible before plunging his paddle into the water and pulling strongly. Sam, on the other hand, stayed on her knees the whole time; Robert's slightly stronger bow stroke obliged her to plunge her paddle slightly outboard as well as forward and pull in a slight diagonal but it was an efficient stroke and there was no need to compensate with the 'J' stroke at all. Tirelessly, they paddled, changing arms every fifteen minutes or so.

 
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