Chapter Two: What
Kind of a Camp Name is That?
It literally felt as if the
world crashed to the bottom of the universe at that moment. All of the great camp
memories replayed through my head: my name on my bunk which I had signed with
pen when I was seven, cliff-diving with Junior Councillor Talia, roasting
marshmallows with my cabin mates, the Mini-Olympic games that we held last
year… They were all gone. With a depressed sigh, I admitted to myself that I
would never get to return to those memories. Ever.
A bucket’s worth of tears
started to well up in my eyes, threatening to spill. “Oh…”
“But then comes the good
news,” Dad said, appearing in the doorway.
Like Mom, Dad was also very
muscular, but he was way leaner than her. His face wore a short red beard and
his head was filled with beautiful red hair, much like my own.
My face brightened up
slightly. “What good news?”
“We’ve found you a new
camp,” Dad continued. “It’s called Citric Acid Lake Arts Camp. CALAC for
short.”
“Citric Acid Lake? What
kind of camp name is that?”
“Well, the lake itself is
called ‘Citric Acid Lake’, so it’s not the camp’s fault.”
“What’s great about this
camp is that it’s a camp for kids your age who like theatre, art, and music,”
Mom added excitedly.
I felt a twinge of
excitement. “Really? That sounds so cool!”
“So, what camp do you want
to go into? You’ve got the three options,” Dad asked.
“Theatre! Theatre!
Theatre!” Excitement coursed through my body and I started to jump up and down.
A new camp! New friends! A camp especially for my greatest passion! The thought
that Citric Acid Lake Arts Camp wouldn’t be as good as Newwodtunrub picked at
the back of my mind, but was ignored. I couldn’t believe that I would get to go
to a camp for acting.
Mom took my hand and led me
inside. As we walked past the light orange walls and wide red picture frames
that contained beautiful pictures of the wilderness, my mind buzzed with
excitement. A new camp meant different types of fun and awesome new memories.
Maybe I would make a few friends as well.
We arrived into our dining
room and I was hit with the mouth-watering scents of dinner. The room was lined
by fancy glass cabinets that contained glimmering glass cups and pristine plates.
The table was set into the centre of the room, covered by a burgundy tablecloth
and flanked by three chairs. Set onto the table were three plates adorned with
a bed of steaming rice, plump strips of beef, and golden bits of corn. We got
seated and quickly started to devour the meal.
“I would never believe that
you would chose to go to the theatre side of it,” Mom joked sarcastically in
between bites.
Theatre had always been my
passion. I first decided that I wanted to be an actor when I was nine. My
parents and I had gone to a play (strangely, I cannot remember the name) and
the actors where so amazing. Their acting was so good that I thought that most
of the things where actually happening. A few things went wrong, though. Some
of the actors missed their cues and a few props broke, but they improvised on
the spot, making it seem like it was planned all along.
Around a month after the
play, I auditioned for the Tempest with an experienced theatre company
and got a somewhat small role. But despite my role, the directors told me that
if I continued to act, I would find myself in bigger productions outside of our
small town. That made me super excited.
“Oh, it was so hard to choose
between that, my singing voice which is like nails on a chalkboard, and my
terrible stick figures,” I responded, rolling my eyes. “So what kind of
activities will we be doing at camp?”
Dad set his fork onto his
plate. “Well, you’ll be doing the basic acting stuff, scriptwriting, learning
how to do lights and sound, doing directing stuff, prop building, all that.
You’ll also be doing all of the classic camp things like roasting marshmallows
and lighting fires.”
I smiled giddily. “When do
I leave?”
“In a week,” Mom replied.
“A week?” I exclaimed.
“That’s so long away. How dare you make me wait so long!”
Mom only shrugged. “It’s
not us. It’s the camp.”
I frowned slightly. Why did
CALAC have to take so long to start? Newwodtunrub started only three days after
school ended.
Suddenly, I realized that I
had no idea where Citric Acid Lake was. Newwodtunrub was just outside of town,
but I had never heard of Citric Acid Lake before today. It couldn’t be too far
away, right?
“Where’s the camp, anyway?”
I inquired.
Mom and Dad exchanged
nervous looks. Uh-oh. That usually means something bad.
“How long of a drive is
it?” I asked, concerned.
Mom tapped her fingers
together nervously before answering. “Uh, we’re going to have to drive for two
days.”
Oh no.
)
Points: 606
Reviews: 69
Donate