The Saturday Boy Novel (Chap. 8)

CHAPTER EIGHT – THE WAY THINGS ARE

 

 

I KNEW today was going to be awesome. My father phoned and said to make sure I brought shorts and a bathing suit. As usual I thumped down the stairs with shouts of "He's here!"

 

Poor mom. I keep forgetting to say "Bye" or "See you later, alligator."

 

My father said, "We're going to visit the Tim Horton summer camp at Tatamagouche."

 

I wait for him to say more, but he’s thinking. I ask, "So?"

 

"It's a place where boys and girls go for a ten day summer holiday. And it's only for kids living with one parent."

 

I'm not sure why I'm going.

 

I have two parents.

 

Father explained it was a chance to join the Colchester County Big Brother and Big Sister organization for an outing. "Not just anyone can visit this place," he said.

 

My father must have connections. I wonder how he managed to get two spots for us on the bus? By the time we arrive at the Mall other cars are parked with adults and kids waiting around. This must be a big deal.

 

When the bus came we all ran for the best seats. My father and I were successful in getting near the front. We really stepped on the gas.

 

I watch as other kids get on. Some don't look very happy. Maybe they don't have a mother and father like me.

 

It was as if my thoughts climbed into my father's head and he answered my own thinking. "These adults are older friends to these children, or more like brothers and sisters."

 

“You're so smart. I hope I grow up like you," I teased. The look he gave made me wonder if he was upset at me for something.

 

"This club helps kids have fun by someone taking them places."

 

"And some of these kids live near me." I joined in. “Hey, I went to school with that girl, Marie.”  My face turned red when she heard me say her name. My father looked at me and said, "Ooh, la-la."

 

How could she be so smart in class if she only has one parent? It's a puzzle for me. You'd think she'd be angry at the world. I once was.

 

The bus trip is really noisy. We try to watch the movie, E.T. If you listened carefully above the chatter you could even hear what they were saying. I didn't mind since I was busy checking everything going on.

 

The bus is huge, with a washroom at the back.

 

We went through Wentworth Valley. On such a beautiful day, I felt like shouting, French Fries. How come every time my dad takes me somewhere, it's always so nice?

 

The weather, I mean.

 

There goes Ski Wentworth. Grandfather said when he was my age he fell on a hill. That scared him so much, he never went back.

 

I wouldn't fall if I did any skiing. "I wonder how much it costs?" I asked. It must have been funny seeing granddad sitting on his butt in the snow.

 

"I'm not sure, son. Lots," my father answered.

 

The kid from the E.T. movie, Elliot, was running across the screen by the time we arrived at the campground. It was a huge place with ponds, hiking trails and a private runway for their Challenger plane.

 

After we left the bus in front of the main building, everyone began shouting with excitement. Somehow the adults managed to settle us down. I don't think they like noise.

 

Then we received a lecture on rules. Like in school. My father said one word to me that meant business. "Listen," he said and scowled at me. I paid closer attention.

 

Bicycling, paddleboats and a pontoon boat ride were part of the afternoon plans. Everyone planned to have a great time.

 

I'm glad father brought me here. He sure knows what I like. We took out two bicycles and I waited for him to get ready.

 

"Race you up the hill!" He yelled out then roared away.

 

I felt sorry for him, huffing and puffing like that. But he was really brave even if he is out of shape. Of course I beat him.

 

And he doesn’t even smoke.

 

The paddleboats were French Fries too. We raced around the pond with some others, and it was neat giving my father a little bumping, then speeding away before he got any ideas.

 

"Jason," he promised, "I will catch up to you."

 

And when he did he bumped into me over and over. I’m sure he was trying to get me upset. But I didn't.

 

How could I? My father and I were buddies. And buddies were friends and friends don't get mad at each other. Right?  

 

Eating time. French Fries! Everyone could munch as much as they wanted. The cafeteria even had room for 200, even though there were only about 45 of us here.

 

We had corn on the cob and soup. And egg rolls and chicken wings. Some of the kids filled their plates as if they had never seen food before. They must not eat so well at home.

 

"Father...why are they…?" I got the message when he placed a finger to his lips. I stopped asking questions and quietly watched.

 

Some kids didn't take anything except dessert and pop. Me, I took a little of everything, even a few vegetables. Mom says I have a big appetite. She's right.

 

Father showed me how to make an ice-cream float. "Gobs of ice-cream in a glass of pop." Hey, I did it myself. Imagine, at my age I didn't know how to make one. He didn't make fun of me, either.

 

I spilled my new creation the first time though. It fizzles really quickly. I had two, even though there wasn’t much room left.

 

On the gym bars, father encouraged me be careful. He stayed right beside me when I was swinging. He acted like a guard or something, because the higher ones really tested the strength for my age.

 

After my turn, a girl tried the junior height and fell. She was crying and the lady who was her Big Sister felt bad.

 

Now I know why father was worried. I’m glad he was a safety for me. "Sometimes I get too brave, eh?" I punched him on the shoulder.

 

"Right." He punched back.

 

"Boat ride! Boat ride! And everyone raced to the dock.

 

My father was first in line, only because he had a good running start. "Be careful," I said. “I don’t want you to have a heart attack.” We were lucky to get on first. I hate being last. It's almost as bad as falling in the mud with your Sunday clothes on. Ha.”

 

We buckled into lifejackets and any kids 12 and under had to sit down. I felt like a pro being allowed to stand and help supervise the younger kids.

 

The boat was really a barge with a large motor on the back. It even had a roof. And it was neat having a full view looking over the railing. The Camp's General Manager was the boat captain and our guide.

 

We spent about an hour on Tatamagouche Bay, since there were others on shore waiting their turn. Our guide explained Fort Franklin was built on Blockhouse Point many years before. And it was just over there on the Point.

 

Everything was interesting and I kept hopping up and down to see over the crowd. “Where’s the bathroom?” I finally asked. I had to go real bad. I meant it.

 

Father looked around. “If I found a bottle would you go in it?”

 

I thought he was joking when he said there was no washroom on board. I said, "No way. Girls are here.”

 

I didn’t think it was so funny when he smiled. “Not a joke,” I said. Before we got to shore I did it. I couldn't hold it in anymore. I felt like dying. It was like the air sucked right out of me.

 

Imagine, with all these people around. After we pulled into shore, I scrambled off first. Everything was wet down my legs and the front of my pants showed it. "I don't want anyone to know what I did," I whimpered.

 

“Pretend you spilled pop,” my father suggested. Then he walked behind so no one would notice I was walking funny.

 

When we were far enough away from the others, I rushed to the main building where I had my bathing suit. After a shower I changed. Whew. Part of my dignity was restored.

 

No one seemed to mind I was the only one around wearing a bathing suit. But at least it was dry. My father was very understanding.

 

He had quietly put away my wet clothes in a plastic bag.

 

After we got home I said, "Thanks. Thanks a lot.”

 

My father didn’t say anything, just smiled.

 

“French Fries!” I shouted as his car took off.