Page 80 of Mr. B

They left the cabin, and Wes nodded toward the activity at the lake. “While you keep an eye on that crew, I need to put a call into Stu Morrow and give him a heads-up.”

“I don’t envy you your job sometimes, Wes.”

He shrugged. “Most of the time, it’s great. Then someone decides to eat poison berries, and all hell breaks loose.”

They parted ways, and Wes returned to the office after pouring himself another cup of coffee in the kitchen. The office was small, cluttered, and disorganized, a shared space used by whoever was in charge of the current group of campers. The owners of Camp Blueberry simply rented out the facility and offered no on-site staff other than May and June.

Wes took a few minutes to straighten out the desk, then picked up the phone and dialed the superintendent’s office.

“Bridgeport District Office.”

“Hi. This is Wes Buchanan. Is Stu available?”

“Of course, hold please.”

She clicked off, and a few moments later, Stu’s obnoxiously jovial voice came on the line. “Wes, how’s it going up there?”

“Well, there’s been a bit of an incident.”

“What kind of incident?”

“The overnight campout was last night, and a few of the kids ate some elderberries and got quite sick from them.”

Stu’s jovial tone disappeared. “What the hell, Wes?”

“They’ve been told not to eat anything. It’s in the handbook. It’s mentioned when they first arrive. Other than personally following them around, I don’t know what else I could’ve done.”

“You weren’t with them?”

“No, they were on a short hike with Emily Conner.” He got to his feet. “She knows better, too. But it happened anyway.”

“Where were you?”

“At the campsite. I can’t keep an eye on all forty kids. That’s why we have counselors.”

“So, you’re claiming no responsibility?”

Wes paced around the small space. “That’s not what I’m saying. I’m in charge, and I will, of course, shoulder the blame if it comes down to that.”

“What’s being done?”

“We got the kids back to camp. They’re resting in a cabin, and their parents are on the way to pick them up.”

“You called them all?”

“The ones I needed to, yes.”

“How many kids?”

He stopped at the small window facing the lake and watched the campers by the water. “Five kids and a counselor, Emily, who wants to remain at camp.”

“Well, I haven’t gotten any calls yet, so maybe that’s a good sign. Let me know how the parents are when they get there. Be…as accommodating as you can be.”

“Of course.”

Stu sighed into the phone. “I know you can’t be everywhere at once, and the district will stand behind you on that.”

“Thank you.”