Page 41 of Mr. B

“Warm days, cool nights.”

She laughed. “So, the campfire will feel good.”

“Music, ghost stories, and s’mores.”

She looked back at Bailey. “Sounds fun.”

Bailey nodded without taking her eyes off the tablet.

Wes glanced at her through the mirror. “You’re about to lose service, kid.”

“Seriously?”

“Yep.”

“There’s no internet at camp?”

“Nope.”

Cassandra smiled. “Hallelujah.”

“A couple of the kids said that, but I didn’t believe them.”

Cassandra turned toward Wes. “So, forty teenagers with no internet for a week. How’s that going to work?”

“It’s a bit like the Dark Ages.”

The road wound through the foothills, and as they drew near, they caught glimpses of Blueberry Lake through the trees. When they reached a carved wooden sign that read ‘Camp Blueberry, 2 Miles,’ Wes turned and followed the winding road through the thick pines, crunching pine needles and the occasional pine cone under his tires.

After crossing a wooden bridge over a flowing creek, the trees thinned, and the buildings of Camp Blueberry lay before them. The lake shimmered in the mid-afternoon light on the far side of a grassy clearing with ten small cabins, a larger double cabin, and the mess hall.

Cassandra leaned forward. “Oh my goodness, this is beautiful.”

There was one other car parked in front of the mess hall, and Wes pulled up next to it. “Looks like Coach beat us here.” They all got out of the Wagoneer, and Wes stretched out his stiff shoulders. The air was crisp and slightly humid with the impending rainstorm. It was cooler than Bridgeport this time of year, and the gentle lapping of the water along the shore was different from the faster current of the Smith River.

Coach Lester Porter was by the lake, standing at the end of the wooden pier. He waved, and Wes held up a hand. “I’ll go say hi.” He looked at Bailey. “Everyone should be arriving soon. Go pick out a cabin for you and your bunk mates.”

“I get first dibs?”

“Yeah, go check them all out.”

Wes turned to Cassandra. “We’ll be in the big double cabin.”

“Do I get to pick which side I want?”

“Of course.” He opened the back of the vehicle, and she took out her bags. “I’ll be in the cabin.” Wes walked to the lake and out onto the pier.

The two men shook hands, and Lester asked, “How was the drive?”

“Fine. Uneventful.”

“At least you had some company.”

No breeze stirred, and the lake was perfectly smooth, like dark blue glass. “Looks pretty calm considering there’s a storm heading our way.”

“Not supposed to pick up until later tonight. Shouldn’t affect our first fire.”

“Good.”