Breathe Me || Completed

16.0 - Cabin

"Sally. Sally. Time to go, Sal."

I awaken with Samantha's claws digging into my shoulders as she shakes me back and forth. Blinking, I stare around at our surroundings. Where are we? What is this shadowy capsule, these moving shapes, dark phantoms on all sides?

But as my eyes adjust and I catch sight of Mae's bright yellow Camp Latoya t shirt and remember.

Samantha has both of our backpacks slung over her shoulders. She's standing almost in the aisle. All around us, students are packing up their bags and stretching, chattering with one another. "They're getting off here," she leans down to whisper. "We're gonna have to make a break for it."

I rub my eyes. "Is this the . . . mmh, the battlefield?" I ask.

"No," says a chipper voice behind us, Buzz. "This is Camp Latoya Bennington. It's why we're here. It's like a convention for all the branches in the Northeast. Bennington's sort of Latoya's capital camp."

Samantha purses her lips, glancing over at Dexter who is stuffing a gray sweatshirt into his backpack. "You said you were going to a battlefield," Samantha accuses.

"We are," says Dex. "Later."

"Alright, sit down, everyone, sit down!" yells a man from the front of the bus. He has a big red nose and very hairy legs, but it doesn't really matter to me. I feel so heavy -- I just want to fall back asleep on Samantha's shoulder. Luckily, when the man proclaims his order, she drops the bags and plops back down into our seat so I can use her as a pillow.

It strikes me with something dangerously close to satisfaction that we are the direct antithesis of Mae and Christina who both have their arms crossed, looking decidedly in opposite directions of each other. What is it about being better off than someone else that releases the endorphins? I snuggle up next to Samantha and revel in her warm hand on my back. We won't ever fight like that, not us. I hope.

Everyone sits and the hairy man barks, "Here's what's gonna happen, campers." He flips over a few pages on his clipboard. "I'm gonna call your names in groups of four. When I say your name, say here. Once the fourth name is called, I'll tell you what cabin you're joining. That make sense?"

"Yes", choruses many tired voices. There are a few sarcastic "Sure thing, Mike"s and "Yes sir"s from the boys. Mike (Mike?) ignores them.

He starts to read names and Samantha and I sink lower in our seats.

"Louie Vegas."

"Here!"

"Jameson Green."

"Here."

"Alfred Pienkos."

"Here."

"Rodney Smith."

"Here!"

"Okay, you four will be joining the Hydra cabin."

And thus it continues, four names and a mythical creature. Dex and Buzz are in the Medusa cabin with two boys named Bryan and Will. Kyle and Matt are in other cabins, but by that point I'm not listening.

About halfway through the list reading, quiet conversations start to pick up again throughout the bus. Taking advantage of the noise, Mae reaches over and taps Samantha on the thigh. Samantha glares.

Mae, unfazed, whispers, "Hey, you guys can sleep in my cabin if you want. No one'll notice."

We look at each other. Samantha is frowning, her eyebrows drawn together like she's solving a long division problem. She raises them at me: you decide, Sally. What now?

Cabin. Woods. Cabin. Woods. Hmm.

It seems like an easy choice. But then again, we have a one hundred percent increased likelihood of being caught if we stay the night here. Shouldn't we get out while we're ahead? We can't afford to stretch our luck.

But. . .

A hot shower. A mattress. Air conditioning. How could we pass that up? Hey, getting on this bus in the first place was a crazy plan. Why not take it a step farther?

"Alright," I hear myself saying. "Thanks, Mae."

She nods, giving a half smile.

Finally, when Mike is toward the end of the list, he calls out, "Krystal O'Hara."

"Here!" squeaks Krystal beside me. She has her knees tucked up to her chest, arms wrapped around them. She's looking out the window at the still gravel parking lot outside.

"Maeve Browning."

"Here," grumbles Mae. She raises her eyebrows at us.

"Patience Badu."

"Here!"

"Christina Gillespie."

"Here."

Mike nods at his paper. "You'll be joining the Minotaur cabin."

"Is that the bull-man thing?" Samantha whispers in my ear. Her breath is warm and humid on my skin. I nod. Yes, the bull-man thing. The one who lives in the labyrinth and demands human sacrifices annually, if I'm not wrong. What a wonderful camp cabin name.

There's one more set of campers, then it's all done. Mike stuffs his clipboard back in his bag and claps his hands together to get our attention. It works. "Remember," he says. "This is not our camp! Your cabin will be made of four of you Concord kids, but the other four are Bennington campers. We're guests here, so clean up after yourselves. Don't be rude. Don't break the rules. Represent us well."

"Speaking of rules," says a middle-aged woman who stands up beside Rick with a hair toss. Her hair is bleached blonde and her face looks like burnt leather, all fake tanned and wrinkled. "I want to go over some things before -- hey, quit it," she says as the campers begin to groan. "This is important. Okay, as always, no leaving your cabins after nine-thirty. It's already nine thirty, so just stay in your cabin. Again, as always, lights out at ten thirty. Breakfast at eight. It's been a long ride, so we'll let you shower before bed, but wait for a counselor to come to your cabin and tell you it's your turn. You can leave your cabins to shower or use the latrines at seven in the morning, no earlier. And, well, this goes without saying, but no harassing each other--"

"Oh man," says a voice from the back.

The woman glares. "And don't let campers from other cabins sleep in your cabin. It's a safety thing. Everyone needs to stay in their own cabin. We'll come around to check on you at lights out." She glances at Mike. "That's all?"

"That's all."

"Alright campers," she says. "Let's go!"