The Kids Aren't Alright

Chapter 9: Finn

A valley, encompassed by mountains and rolling hills, spans out below me; dozens of cabins scattered randomly across its grassy floor. The camp itself is made out of a labyrinth of trees, crisscrossing streams, and twist dirt trails that spiral outwards across the valley floor. The only straight line interspersing the chaos is a long span of gravel road that manifests at the edge of the forest and leads all the way to the center of camp, where I see the largest cabin of them all. When the sun breaks through the clouds, its rays hit the cabin at a striking angle, and turn the shingles into pure gold.

On the fringes of camp, a drove of horses grazes on a meadow so green that it almost looks fake, like a scene out of a touched-up postcard. I didn't know that the camp kept horses. I wonder if we'll ever be able to visit them.

Beyond the meadow, I can see the lake the camp was named after. It's dark and glassy and stretches all the way from the camp to the mountains, where the water abruptly disappears into a ghost-grey mist that shrouds the banks. From my vantage point, the lake doesn't look very "light" at all.

(If you look hard enough, you'll probably find a metaphor in there somewhere.)

No fear, I remind myself. Then I start hiking mechanically down the hill.

Walking down is much easier than climbing up, and it takes me less than twenty minutes to reach the bottom of the hill. From there, I head towards the big cabin in the middle of camp, hoping to find a counselor who can sign me in, or at least somebody who can direct me to the nearest authority figure.

Nobody stops me on my way to the cabin. Nobody pulls me over to check my bag, or even to get my ID. Save for a few stray cats that saunter between my legs before being distracted by a flock of birds, the camp is pretty much deserted; almost creepily so. But I'm determined not to get sidetracked so I just keep walking, until I finally reach the cabin and find a list of names, handwritten, nailed to the door.

I squint at the piece of paper and see that it's not just some random list of names. It's the cabin registrar. My eyes trail down the list until they land on my own name, and the roommate assignment listed next to it— I've been put in Becharof Cabin along with some other unlucky kid named Ronan Lockwood.

One roommate. I only have to share the cabin with one roommate. What a relief— I thought they'd be stuffing us into cabins like sardines in a can. How bad can one roommate possibly be?

Snap! I hear a twig crack behind me. The noise takes me by surprise, and I whip around so quickly that I nearly run headfirst into the first human I've seen since I left Moe's taxi. It's a girl, around my age, with fluffy Bonnie Tyler hair (brown, instead of blonde) and golden-brown skin. She's wearing a fleecy denim jacket, black platform boots, and a cross expression. There's something off about her, but it takes me a moment to realize what it is: her eyes aren't the same color. One is brown. The other is blue. And neither look very happy with me.

"Sorry," I say, not sure what I've done to offend her. "Did you want to read the...?"

But the girl just scowls and shoves past me, glancing quickly over the list before striding away down one of the many dirt trails. Her backpack, slung loosely over one shoulders, thumps against her side as she walks; one hit for every step. It doesn't look very full.

I turn back towards the list. The girl clearly knows where her cabin is; now, all I have to do is find my own. Becharof Cabin. Now, this would be a lot easier to do with a map....

I'm beginning to see more campers now, all flocking to the cabin, duffel bags weighing down on their arms, backpacks strapped across their chest. They all look like the girl with the mismatched eyes: annoyed, disgruntled, tired. I've never been afraid of meeting new people (in fact, Sarah says that I'm one of the most aggressive extroverts she knows), but something about the groups of kids makes me feel tense. I decide to leave the introductions for later, when everybody is feeling a little more friendly. I choose a trail at random and follow it into the woods.