I recently found a pink bracelet made of embroidery floss. It was worn and dirty on the edges, an understandable condition since it had been cut from my wrist and put into a memory box fifteen years ago. I found it while cleaning up the rubble I made looking for incense to meditate with, and when I was through crying, I laughed my ass off.

I was in the seventh grade when the idea of attending Camp Cross was brought up. It was the most popular girl in school, my friend Jenny, who mentioned it. We were sitting at one of those experimental late eighties lunch tables that looked like Martian launching pads. Our class had been caught in that new "middle school" movement which leveled everyone off, made the superlative students mediocre, the mediocre students spoiled, and sucked all the fun out of being in Junior High. Jenny was picking at her bologna and cheese sandwich when she said, "You know what we should do this summer? We should go to Camp Cross."

Camp Cross was a religious summer camp an hour away from our town on the shores of Lake Chautauqua. I had briefly visited the grounds the previous summer when BunnySis and her friends had attended and depleted their can of "Rave" hairspray only a few days into the session. BunnyMommy and I drove out with an emergency replacement can, and I got to spend two whole hours gossiping in the bunks of the "Forest Glen" cabin, basking in the coolness of my older sister and her friends till I was finally thrown out for being uncool.

I had recently found out in catechism that God thought I was inferior to men, and after doing some light research into religion and all its faults, I had renounced Catholicism at the dinner table. But all my friends were going to Camp Cross. There would be swimming, arts and crafts, and plenty of cute boys to flirt with, so I figured I could simply ignore the religious crap. I wasn't going to let God ruin my summer.

A few weeks after the idea was brought up, a church-going friend of ours named Kristy brought in a brochure for the camp. It was glossy and had pictures of exuberant Hitler youths playing sports, swimming in Lake Chautauqua, making Paper Mache globes out of newspaper. We gathered in study hall and poured through every page. The girls and I decided that we wanted to be in BunnySis' cabin, "Forest Glen" for its proximity to the latrine and cool reputation.

We spent the next few months begging our parents for the "tuition" money. This was no small request. We were living in a part of upstate New York which is considered Appalachia. It was not just a land of bologna and cheese sandwiches, but a land of balogna and government cheese sandwiches. There were few kids in our school whose families had expendable income for things like summer camp, and the rest of us had to shave our Hills brand stretch pants with a Lady Bic and pretend they were new. We had to beg for such luxuries as summer camp. "Mommy, Daddy please! I'll do the dishes for two years if you let me go to Camp Cross!"

Our parents eventually caved and sent in our "tuition" checks. When we got news in the mail of our successful reservation of the "Forest Glen" cabin, we were elated. I was particularly pleased, as this year I would be the cool one, in the cool cabin, and no one could kick me out after only two hours for blurting out something as innocuous as the amount of popes who had committed murder.

Like the girls, I was excited about going to Camp Cross, but unlike the girls, I had my reservations. Even aside from my dinner table renunciation of religion, certain things about the place disturbed me. For starters, in the rule section of the orientation booklet it clearly stated that all campers were to bring a bible with them. I thought this was creepy, and decided not to follow this rule.

Equally as disturbing was the music policy. Campers couldn't bring a walkman or tapes unless the tapes were religious in nature like Michael W. Smith or Amy Grant. I skirted around this by packing my U2 tapes, because unlike Michael and Amy, U2 was a religious outfit whose music didn't sound like a donkey being raped on a soundboard. And since a girl couldn't listen to just one tape a summer, I figured that throwing a few secular tapes into a sock at the bottom of my bag probably wasn't that big a transgression.

I buried my worries about Camp Cross in the details of packing. There was sure to be cute boys in attendance from schools all over Western, New York, so I had to be meticulous about organizing my clothing and makeup. As horny then as I am now, I wanted to look my best for the possible kisses, gropes, and chances at second base in the holy corners of Camp Cross. Yes, that's right. I wanted to get it on at church camp. Into my Hills brand purple gym bag went two cans of Rave Hairspray, Wet N' Wild makeup, Love's Baby Soft perfume, glitter lotions, glitter polishes and a variety of lip glosses I had recently stolen from BunnySis. I neatly folded my colorful Hills brand shorts and tees. I packed half of them into my gym bag, and rolled the other half into my bargain Pegasus sleeping bag. It cost much less than a My Little Pony bag, and if you didn't pay attention to the pony's lazy eye, you couldn't tell the difference. Around my neck I wore my signature bubble necklace. Oh, I was so cool.

Arriving at Camp Cross for the first time as an actual camper was exciting. After checking in at the bursar's office, my friends and I gathered our things and made our way to our "Forest Glen" cabin. As I had been inside the walls of the cabin before, I lead the way. The camp grounds were rife with cute boys playing Frisbee and throwing footballs with little tails on the ends of them. We chatted about and compared "this cute boy" to "that cute boy," though they all looked the same - spiked haircuts, sweat pants pulled to the knee just so, and white striped gym socks.

When we arrived at Forest Glen, we chose beds, and I got a top bunk. The cabin was old and smelled of mildew. There were bunks along the walls with foam mattresses, and three cots in the middle. It was steamy inside with only a few screen windows above the top bunks for ventilation, and a ceiling fan which didn't work. I put my things into the cubby hole attached to my bed, rolled out my lazy-eyed Pony Bag and wrote, "Bunny wuz here" in teal marker above my bed. We girls decided to claim the boy we liked the most. This way, we could arrange dates for the banquet dance without overlap.

Jenny: "I like Brian from Tonawanda." Jenny always liked the cutest boy and claimed him early. She would get him too, because she was pretty, and had the Punky Brewster disease that makes your tits explode into big sex balloons as soon as you hit puberty.

Kristy: "Oh I liked him, Jeeeeeennnnyyyyyyy!" Kristy was the annoying one. She was pretty too, though no boy could stand to be around her without first plugging his ears. She had dark curly hair which never had to be permed or curled. We were all jealous of that.

Ashley: "BUUUUUURRRRRP." Ashley was gross and funny. She could fart on command and liked to talk about boogers. She once got detention for making a joke about our gym teacher's "package."

Hannah: "Shouldn't we be going to initiation? I think we're late guys. We're gonna get in trouble." Hannah was the nervous one. She came from one of the 'rich' families in town. She and I had been best friends since Kindergarten, when she was skipped a grade and I was new to the school. She was a little blonde thing, shy and pale. She had Irritable Bowel Syndrome, wore expensive pressed pants which she called "slacks," and shook from fear when she got a B+. Her mother had her addicted to Afrin nose spray by the second grade.

The rest of our cabin arrived an hour after we did. There were three of them, one fat girl with a red afro, and identical twin sisters with bad attitudes. The fat girl seemed nice, and was kindred to me in that she hadn't brought a bible either. She flashed already rotten teeth and said, "Hey you aint bringed a bible neither." She and her friends were clearly from Frewsburg or some other isolated place. You could always tell a Frewsburger by their poor grammar.

The twin sisters were very skinny and severe looking, two cold fish joined at the hip. Their hair was stringy like wigs made of plastic strands. They never spoke, unless it was to criticize "Big Red" for something, her clothes, her shoes, the way she unpacked. They were particularly displeased with the sleeping situation.

Twin 1: "Big Red! It's all your fault! Now we have to sleep on these smelly cots."
Twin 2: "You're so stuuuuupid, Big Red."
Big Red: "Sorry guys." She hung her head so that a great ring of fat formed between her chin and chest. Hannah, being a sweetheart, offered her some comfort.

Hannah: [Snorting nose spray] "It's okay."
Twin 2: "She wasn't talking to you, four eyes."
Hannah: "Oh. Sorry."
Bunny: "Hey! You don't talk to her like that!"
Twin 2: "So. I'll say whatever I want!"
Bunny: [Steamed, with fist raised] "You're just jealous of her Swatch watches!"

There I was, ready to lay a whooping on my new church camp cabin mates, when our counselor walked in. Not wanting to ruin her first impression of me, I lowered my fist.

She didn't notice anything awry, just smiled genuinely and said, "Hi everyone. I'm Pam. I'll be your counselor this summer." She had long brown hair, and an athletic build, the kind you get from Jesuit College field hockey or lacrosse. Her legs were thick and muscular. I immediately wanted to be just like her, wrote into my Miss Piggy notebook, "Talk to mom and dad about joining lacrosse team." I, too, would be muscular and vital like Pam.

At orientation, we learned that our first task for the day was to take the swimming test to determine which group, "Sailfish," "Dolphin," or "Minnow," each swimmer would be in. Hannah began to shake from fear. She wasn't a strong swimmer, and thus was terrified that she would end up in the "Minnow" group. In contrast, I swam like a fish. I had proven so the summer prior when I secretly entered and completed the Yacht-Club-sponsored three hour trek across Lake Chautauqua.

On our way down to the water's edge in swimsuits and flip flops, we were introduced to Big Red's ass crack through the wearing spandex seat of her swimsuit. In contrast, I felt sexy and lithe in my new Speedo suit, one of the little luxuries my family could afford. I tried to make Hannah laugh by pointing out the ass crack. She was too nervous to do anything but shake, and when she began to bite the skin off her bottom lip, I resorted to pep talking.

"You'll be just fine. Remember to relax. You don't have to do crawl stroke to get into the 'Dolphin Swimmers' group, just breast stroke. You know that one. It's easy."

We were late to arrive at the swim test, which only added to Hannah's stress. Everyone at Camp Cross was there in their suits; we girls surveyed the competition, which was slim to none. The power of Jenny's boobies was significant. Add to that the fact that I had recently been nick-named "sexy" by Tommy Perkins, and had pretty dancer's legs that looked great in my new high-cut Speedo, and we were unstoppable. We were certainly the cabin to be seen with, and this was proven whenTonawanda Brian "accidentally" threw a Frisbee into our circle.Everyone could sense it. Those Forest Glen girls are cool.

The counselors lined us up by cabin and sent us one by one into the middle, "Dolphin Swimmers,'" area for our test. We were instructed to do a few laps of breast stroke, and then to tread water for a minute.Though Kristy, Ashley and I easily made the advanced "Sailfish" group, the rest of the cabin was held back in "Dolphin" group. Big Red and the Twins weren't all that bad at swimming, and Jenny's natural buoyancy assured that she wouldn't be sent down to "Minnow" group.

Poor Hannah was without nose spray, thus she got nervous and failed miserably. She began to hyperventilate halfway through her second lap of breast stroke, gulped a good amount of lake water and went under. Whistles blew, and the whole camp watched in horror as her head bobbed and choked amidst flapping arms. A counselor had to dive in and pul l her out, giving her a horrendous front and back wedgie in the process. Never good at failing tests, we knew she would be destroyed for the rest of the day.

After the swim test, we walked back up the hill to shower. It was a dangerous trek as our wet towels were hanging heavily around our midsections, our flip flops precariously slippery. Blades of grass caught between our toes and snapped in half. Big Red tripped in her pink Jelly's and went down.

Startled by Big Red's fall, and the horrible outcome of the swim test, Hannah began to cry. "I'm so embarrassed. Do you think Jake saw?" Jake was Hannah's crush. He had been the object of her affection for five years, and as Hannah was an avid stamp and shell collector and a little awkward around him, he wanted nothing to do with her.

Bunny: "Nope. He wasn't even lined up when you took your test." This was a lie. He saw her being pulled out of the water. He saw the front and back wedgie and he cruelly laughed. Later on in the week, during some sports game, I would punch him in the stomach for it.

We helped Big Red up, and were aghast at her open wound. She had gone down pretty hard and skinned half her knee. She tried to brush the dirt off and ended up mixing it with the blood from the skinning. Kristy, being obnoxious, whined, "Eeeeeewwww. That's so grooooooss."

Big Red and the Twins went off to find the infirmary. The rest of us hit the showers, which we soon discovered were nothing more than cement cells with shower heads and moldy curtains. The water was luke warm, ensuring that none of us would dally. There were only six showers for sixty girls. You do the math.

We scrubbed up and reapplied our makeup. We moussed and curled our hair, lacquered our bangs to the sky. And when we were finished, we laid on our bunks in the late day heat and gossiped about boys some more.

Jenny: "Brian from Tonawanda asked me to the banquet dinner dance."
Kristy: "Alllllreadyyyyyyy?"
Jenny: "Yep. We flirted during the swimming test." It was that easy for Jenny, sex balloons and all. She didn't have to work at boys.

Hannah was last to arrive from the shower, frazzled with curling iron burns on her forehead. It took her a long time to groom, as she was from one of the "rich" families in town and was expected to look neat and proper at all times. The house she lived in was a large Victorian one with a fountain and naked Donatello knock-off statues in its yard. When we were bored, would touch the statues' breasts and penises and giggle.

Big Red came back from the infirmary with the Twins in tow, who bullied her with insults "You're so stuuuupid, Big Red." Hannah sat down on her bunk, the one below mine. She picked through a stack of my contraband secular tapes, "You guys think we'll get into trouble if we listen to a tape?"

Kristy: "Let's not chance it."
Jenny: "Let's go flirt with boys."
Bunny: "Yeah."
Kristy: "It's too hot."
Jenny: "Yeah, its really hot."

Hannah sunk onto her mattress. I hung my head over my bunk and saw that her cheeks were bright red. She had probably cried in the shower. I knew what would cheer her up.

Bunny: "I KNOW GUYS!"
Jenny: "What?"
Bunny: "I know what we can do! Let's have a séance!"
Jenny: "YEAH!"
Kristy: "That's devil stuff you guuuuuyyys!"
The Cabin: "Shut up, Kristy."

This idea piqued the interested of Big Red and the Twins, who had apparently never had a séance before. "We never done nothin' like that. We wanna do it too."

We set to work arranging Big Red's and the Twins' cots together in the middle so that we could all sit on them and have the séance. Then we showed Big Red and the Twins how to sit, facing each other, two by two with their legs crossed. Hannah was afraid of getting caught playing devil games, so she stayed on her bunk and sulked.

When we were ready, I began the séance.
Bunny: "Okay. Now we have to choose a conduit." I didn't know what that word meant, but I had seen a fortune teller lady use it in a horror movie before. It sounded professional to me.
Jenny: "Oh! I'll do it!"

Jenny laid down in the middle of our flattened circle, sex balloons hard and straight. I instructed everyone to put two fingers beneath her.

Bunny: "Now. Repeat after me around the circle. Light as a feather..."
The Cabin: "Light as a feather..."

Bunny: "Stiff as a board..."
The Cabin: "Stiff as a board..."

Bunny: "Heavy as a stone..."
The Cabin: "Heavy as a stone..."

Bunny: [Pause for emphasis] "Spirit world, we ask you to make Jenny light. We ask you to help us lift her body. Spirits come to us, and help us lift Jenny. Come to us spirits!"

And in the moist and spooky confines of Forest Glen, we heard a 'kerclick,' and then...

HERE WE COOOOOOOME...

The Cabin: "AAAHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" Jenny sat up in terror. We took our hands away and screamed, looked around for the spirits with the low voices who were coming for us.

...WALKIN' DOWN THE STREET. WE GET THE FUNNIEST LOOKS FROM... EVERYONE WE MEET. HEY HEY WE'RE THE MONKEES!

And there was Hannah at her tape player, grinning wide. "Gotcha!"

A bell rang, startling us again. It was the announcement bell signaling dinner. We filed out onto the porch as a cabin, and as we strolled up to the dining hall, we decided that we were going to be the "Forest Glen Girls," a united front that did everything together. Everything we did would be voted on, and we do it together as a cabin.

At the dining hall, we were instructed to line up by group. We had to answer trivia questions to get into the dinner line. I was good at trivia, so this was no problem.

Counselor: "What is the capitol of Bolivia?" I raised my hand and shook it for emphasis. "Forest Glen, go ahead."

Bunny: "LA PAZ!"

Counselor: [Checking his clip board] "That's a correct answer, go on in and get your dinner!"

Forest Glen Girls: "YAAAAYYYYYYY!!!!!!!!!"

Inside, we picked out trays of the same color. We were the Forest Glen Girls, a united force. Eating only from an orange tray would signify our cabin pride.

After our Forest Glen Orange trays were loaded up with chicken fingers and tater tots, we sat down together. I began to eat my dinner. Pam, our fit and vital counselor screamed, "PUT DOWN THAT CHICKEN FINGER! WE HAVEN'T PRAYED YET!"

Bunny: "Whoa, wha... huh?"
Pam: "We have to say Grace."
Bunny: "Huh? Wha...?"

Pam instructed us to join hands and say Grace. I took Hannah's shaky hand in my right, and Big Red's sweaty hand in my left and stared jealously across the table at Jenny's sex balloons while Pam said Grace.

Pam: "Heavenly father, we thank you for your gift of this wonderful food we are about to eat..."

My food's getting cold.

Pam: "Lord, you have blessed us in bringing us all together to commune, to spread your word and your love..."

I wish I had boobs like Jenny's.

Pam: "...and we also pray that you'll keep our cabin safe from harm..."

Safe? Where was God when Big Red skinned her knee? Where was he when Hannah almost drowned?

Pam: "...in your infinite wisdom and love we...blah blah...wisdom and
love, and wisdom and love, and light and love...blah blah blah..."

I should pray for boobs like Jenny's.

Pam: "Amen."

The Forest Glen girls said "Amen," and as we were united, and I was a team member, I said "Amen" too. Showing my cabin pride was important. I cracked open the top on my carton of chocolate milk and promptly forget about the "Amen." Mmmm dangerous chocolate milk I'm not allowed to have at home. I will get hyper and no one can stop me.

Kristy: "Buuuuunnyyyyyy, you're 'sposed to lower your head when you say grace. You didn't lower your head."
Bunny: "Shut up, Kristy."

Kristy's parents were very religious. They were always saying Grace before their dinners, and never skipped a Sunday of mass. Kristy's mother was one of the religious people who lined up on Fairmount Avenue when the Planned Parenthood clinic opened. They were there for days with poster board Pro-life signs. I didn't see her, but the town lesbian, a carpenter that lived next door to me, told me she saw Kristy's mother when she and her partner cruised past shaking coat hangers out their car windows. The town lesbian was funny.

After dinner we were instructed by Pam to go to Chapel.

Bunny: "Will there be...[over exaggerated gulp] a sermon at Chapel?"

Pam glared at me.

Chapel was the only building at the camp that was finished inside, with nice carpeting, good windows, a makeshift stage and microphone set up. It was soft inside like a preschool. It wasn't scary like most churches, with all the death and horror on the walls and windows. Jenny and Brian from Tonawanda sat together and held hands. Their relationship was moving quickly, but we all knew that Jenny was a little slutty, as she and Gus Saracki had gone to third base out behind Pete's Pizzeria after a dance.

Big Red sat in front of me picking at her knee in a sleeveless top. Everyone behind her could see her unfettered breasts through the arm holes. I began to wonder if showing her private parts to anyone and everyone wasn't intentional.

Hannah and I sat behind her and giggled. When she got sullen about the swim test debacle, I tried to cheer her up. "Buck up, Hannah. It's just one hour a day, and then you can hang out with the rest of us. Besides, there's not many people in 'Minnow Swimmers,' so nobody will know."

Hannah: "Everybody already knows. At dinner, Jake and his friends pointed at me and pretended they were drowning." Hannah wrapped her legs up to her chest and laid her head on her knee all vulnerable.

Bunny: "Well screw him!"

Hannah: "You can't say 'screw' in a church."

Bunny: "SCREW SCREW SCREW!"

Pam: "Bunny, watch your language!" Things with Pam had gone south. I decided to scratch my future career in lacrosse. I would erase that idea from my Miss Piggy notebook as soon as I got back to the cabin.

A skinny man and several counselors with guitar cases approached the stage. The skinny man tapped the mic to check its loudness, then took it off the stand and introduced himself as Pastor Bob. I shuddered lightly. He was going to do one of those "sermon" things. I would pay no attention to it.

Unenlightened Campers: "HI PASTOR BOB!"

He seemed like a nice enough guy. As he introduced himself to the campers he emphasized that Camp Cross was about having a good time, getting along well with others, and learning how to cooperate. I drifted off, as planned. This is when I spied a cute boy I hadn't previously seen. I elbowed Ashley, who burped upon impact. She was always gassy.

Bunny: "Who is that?"
Ashley: "Who? That trout-sniffer in the blue?"
Bunny: "Yeah, with the grey sweat pants."
Ashley: "Oh, that's Gordy. What a fag."

I learned from Ashley during the sermon, which, ever faithful to my renunciation I refused to pay attention to, that Gordy was from our rival middle school. He played little league with Ashley's older brother. Ashley said he was a "douchebag," but she said that about any boy who wouldn't laugh at her jokes. Following the standard opening flirtation procedure, I threw a wadded up bit of paper at Gordy's head. When he turned, I smiled. To my delight, Gordy smiled back. Oh I was so cool.

When Pastor Bob had finished with the "sermon," the counselors pulled out their guitars and proceeded to teach us religious songs with an overhead projector. I paid no attention to this, just continued to flirt with Gordy. He seemed completely uninterested in the God songs too. He was perfect for me. I decided right then and there that I would invite him to the banquet dinner.

Chapel finally ended. The campers spilled out into the night and then back to their cabins. I hung back a bit and said hello to Gordy.
Bunny: "Hey."
Gordy: "Hey."
Bunny: "What's up?"
Gordy: "Nothin'. What's up with you?"
Bunny: "Nothin'."

We said the insignificant things twelve year olds say to each other when sexually excited. The subject of the conversation wasn't nearly as important as the body language. The body language wasn't nearly as important as the closeness of the bodies. Gordy touched my arm, and my stomach filled with a thousand coked-up butterflies.

Jenny and Brian from Tonawanda were kissing by the well. Gordy and I snickered at them, embarrassed because we wanted to kiss too. I heard my name being yelled from afar. It was Ashley.

"BUNNY! QUIT TALKIN TO THAT TROUT SNIFFER, AND MOVE! PAM'S PISSED!"

I said good night, gathered Jenny and went back to Forest Glen. We girls brushed our teeth and got into our P.J.'s. Jenny ran around with two brushes itching her enormous breasts, which seemed to grow an inch a day. As I zipped into my lazy-eyed Pony Bag, I cursed my own chest - two swollen nipples and nothing more. I wonder if Gordy would even want to touch these things?

It was a beautiful night. Though summer days in upstate New York are hot, the nights are blissfully cool. Aside from our voices, the only sounds we heard were crickets, the tiny waves that lapped at the shoreline, and fingernails clawing at fresh mosquito bites beneath sleeping bags.

Jenny: "I kissed Brian from Tonawanda."
Twin 1: "You're a ho bag."
Jenny: "You're just jealous."
Twin 1: "Am not."
Jenny: "You've probably never kissed a boy."
Twin 1: "Have too!"
Jenny: "I bet nobody in your whole hick school knows how to kiss."
Twin 2: "Nuh uh! Big Red's had sex!"

The whole cabin sat up in shock. We were flabbergasted. How was this
possible? Sex? Holy crapola!

Jenny: "Oh my God."
Kristy: "Is this true?"
Big Red: [Proudly] "Yeah."
Twin 2: "She did it five times."
Jenny: "Whoa!"
Ashley: "Five times?"
Bunny: "What was it like?"
Big Red: "Weeeellll..."
Jenny: "GO ON!"
Big Red: "Hurts like heck at first, but after a coupla times it feels
purty dang good."

Big Red was a star. She was an exotic beast prancing among us, and we weren't even aware of it till now. But it was there the whole time, this rare beast. Sex. Holy crap!

Hannah: [Snorting nose spray] "Who'd you have sex with?"
Big Red: "Ma boyfriend."
Twin 1: "He's a senior. You know, in high school."
Jenny: "Whoa!"
Bunny: "That's so COOL."

Big Red was a goddess. She was a fat, glorious, titty-showing goddess. What need for modesty or propriety had Big Red? She'd had SEX, five times, with a SENIOR.

We kept asking questions. Big Red kept answering them till we were too tired to keep our eyes open. Every so often Ashley would let out a fart. PFFFFFTTTT... and the cabin would giggle. Just when we were drifting off to sleep...

TRUMPETS TRUMPETS TRUMPETS!!!! Someone cheerily shouting over a PA
system, "Wake up campers!"

Pam came into the cabin and yelled, "Up and at 'em girls! It's time for MORNING MASS!" I hated Pam. I wanted to tell her about the murderous popes.

We rose, still sleepy and red in the eyes from the night before and the Big Red sex admission. We got ready as quickly as possible. Even Hannah dressed sloppily, cramming her feet into her fancy Ked's, neglecting to pull on the heels. We convened on our cabin porch and headed out for morning mass together. I dragged my heels and loudly whined; I couldn't think of any place I wanted to go less. This time Hannah comforted me.

Hannah: [Snorting nose spray] "Bunny stop. Church isn't that big a deal. 'Sides, Gordy will be there."

The possibility of flirting with Gordy again perked me up. At Chapel, I sought him out and flirted shamelessly with him. Gordy flirted back, and when the "sermon" was over we met outside.
Bunny: "Hey."
Gordy: "Hey."

After poking fun at each other a bit, punching each other lightly in the arm, we walked hand in hand to the dining hall for breakfast. I was so nervous that my hand got sweaty, and I kept having to change hands. At the dining hall, we parted, and lined up by cabin for the trivia game.

Counselor: "Who wrote the opera 'Carmen?'" My freshly-held hand shot up, my arm tense with excitement. "Forest Glen, go ahead."

Bunny: "GEORGE BIZET!"

Counselor: [Checking clip board] "That's correct! Go get your breakfast."

Forest Glen: "YAAAAAAYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!!!!"

We went inside, passed out our Forest Glen Orange trays and loaded them up with French Toast and processed sausage links. We sat down to a table and dutifully linked hands for Pam's infernal Grace. This time I was only too happy to take the sweaty digits of Big Red in my hand. She was a fat, titty-showing goddess.

Pam: "Heavenly father we thank you for blessing us with this food which we..." Oh I hated Pam, but I was determined not to let her and God ruin my summer.

After breakfast we got our assignments. Each cabin would rotate from activity to activity throughout the day in hourly increments. This ensured that there was an even distribution of campers at each station. The activities were as such:

Infield Sports: This included soccer, kickball, field hockey, baseball and lacrosse (which I wouldn't participate in because I had recently renounced that sport for 'personal reasons').

Sailing Class: (For "Sailfish Swimmers" only - "Dolphins" and "Minnows" were to use this time for the paddle boats).

Swimming Hour: Self explanatory.

Lunch Hour: Self explanatory.

Craft Hour: My favorite hour of the day. Here we made collages, lanyard key chains, and embroidery floss bracelets (all in the same colors as selected by a Forest Glen vote - pink for bracelets, orange and blue for lanyards).

Outfield Sports: This included sports such as archery, rope course, teamwork drills etc. Aside from the comedy of watching Big Red try to climb a rope, this activity usually blew. Jenny would skip it, go behind a tree with Brian from Tonawanda and make out for an hour. I only went to be around Pam's boyfriend, Drew, who had a sexy smile and ample bulges beneath his satin youth league coach jacket with striped waistband and cuffs. Pam had recently told us that she and Drew were engaged and saving themselves for marriage. I thought this was retarded.

Canteen Hour: The hour during which we were allowed to go to the "Canteen Candy Shop" and pick out one or two candies of our choosing. Whatever candy/candies we selected were voted upon by all the Forest Glen girls in a show of solidarity. We usually selected everlasting gob stoppers because we could suck on them for hours. We were THE cabin, the cool Forest Glen girls with the signature pink embroidery floss bracelet.

At Swimming Hour we held diving contests. The "Sailfish Swimmers'" dock was in deep water, as opposed to the "Dolphin Swimmers'" area, in which no one was allowed to dive for fear they would become paralyzed or cut their face on a Zebra Mussel. We "Sailfish" would take turns at the 'platform,' a square on the dock designated by masking tape. We were serious about our form. We would stand with our arms at our sides, toes placed over the side of the aluminum dock for traction. We would concentrate. Then, in a flurry of action, our arms would raise, and we would spring up and forward into the water with a great splash. The other "Sailfish" would judge our dive from 1-10. Ashley always gave me a low score so that she could win. This wasn't very Forest Glen of her.

Bringing up the rear in waist-high water was Hannah, the retarded girl, and the black boy who made up the "Minnow Swimmers" group. The retarded girl couldn't say much in the way of English, so Hannah mostly talked to the black boy. His name was Barry. They would discuss all order of things while the retarded girl gurgled in her water-wings, and splashed water in their faces.

Later, at dinner, Hannah said, "Barry told me that Black people can get tans."
Kristy: "Nuh uh."
Hannah: "He said they can."
Jenny: "He was just joking with you."
Hannah: "Nope. He pulled down his swim trunks a little and showed me his tan line. I could see it easily."

We were amazed. It was as if someone had told us that the sky was made of pepperoni.

That night at Chapel I sat next to Gordy with my arm linked behind his, our knees touching. We marveled at Big Red's breasts, large inside the arm holes of her shirt. At one point, Gordy got bored with the "sermon" and took the cap off my bubble necklace. A little bubble popped out. Pam saw it and quickly confiscated the necklace. How I hated Pam.

_______________

A few days into camp, we settled into a routine of sorts. Our days went as such: the dreaded morning mass, flirting with Gordy, me winning breakfast trivia, Forest Glen Orange trays, diving contests, me winning lunch trivia, pink embroidery floss bracelets, gob stoppers, Jenny making out, me winning dinner trivia, more Chapel and God songs, Jenny making out, and then bedtime. It soon became obvious that Jenny had made it to third base with Brian from Tonawanda. She was interested in going all the way.

Jenny: "Big Red? How much does sex hurt, exactly?"
Big Red: "Well... I 'spose the first time felt like a bee hive got up in ma crotch and 'dem boys got to work stingin ma insides"
Jenny: "Oh." That was all Jenny needed to hear. She wouldn't lose her virginity for years.

During a soccer game I had the opportunity to punch Jake in the stomach. I also got to kick him in the shins. Though he kicked me back, the vindication was well worth it. Gordy laughed and smiled when I did it. We had recently snuck a kiss after chapel. It wasn't anything scandalous, but as any kind of sexual interaction drove my prepubescent body wild, it was delicious. I was in Heaven at church camp. Go figure?

One day, we were instructed to meet for lunch at the lake instead of the dining hall. We weren't sure why. The counselors told us it was a surprise. We headed down the hill, and as we crested the top, the smell of some delicious roasted meat met our nostrils. At the bottom of the hill was a bright red pig turning on a spit over a gas fire. We were enticed and horrified all at once. Big Red started to tear up when a stupid boy from Canyon Cove cabin yelled "Look everybody! It's Big Red on a spit."
Ashley yelled back: "Oh yeah? Well her boyfriend is a senior in high school. You're just a dumbass."

The counselors told us to line up by cabin as usual.

Counselor: "What is the largest mammal?" My pink-braceleted arm shot up. "Anyone OTHER THAN Forest Glen? No? Go ahead, Bunny."

Bunny: "THE BLUE WHALE!"

Counselor: "That's correct. Go get your pig."

Forest Glen: "YAAAAAAYYYYYY!!!!!!!!!!!"

After Pam's lengthy prayer (bitch) and a few minutes of cringing at the pig meat, we tasted it, and all agreed it was delicious. As the cool Forest Glen girls had voted it delicious, the whole camp would surely think so. Pam yelled at Big Red when she dipped her bracelet in barbeque sauce and took the lord's name in vain, "God dang it!" Everyone could see her crotch through the leg of her shorts.

_______________

It seemed as if time was sprinting. That's the speed time travels during summer vacations. Before we knew it, the day of the banquet dance was upon us. Jenny was going with Brian from Tonawanda. I was going with Gordy, who I had now kissed several times after Chapel, each time more heavenly than the last. Kristy and Ashley chose boys from our school to go with, "just as friends." Big Red was unavailable as she was dating her senior boyfriend, and no one liked the Twins. Hannah had her heart set on going with Jake. He laughed at the invitation when I delivered it to him.

Jake: "You've got to be kidding me."

Bunny: "She's too good for you anyways, you stupid prick."

Hannah wasn't too crushed. She and Barry, the black boy from "Minnow Swimmers," decided to sit together.

We cool Forest Glen girls got ready together, in unison, a united front. We passed my bottle of glitter nail polish so that everyone's fingers and toes would be the same hue. We had voted a day prior to wear Daisies in our hair, which we fashioned on the right side of our heads. When an ant crawled out of Twin 1's daisy and bit her on the scalp, we were secretly elated.

Looking back, our Hills brand sun dresses were ravishing that day; we didn't care that they were generic. We felt like queens, were queens, though Big Red was a queen with clearly visible nipples.

After the banquet we went back to our cabins and changed into pants and jackets. We were instructed to stop at Chapel for some quick God stuff before the final bonfire. As I had grown accustomed to blocking out the sermons and songs, I happily skipped there with my cabin. But when we arrived at Chapel, instead of a microphone there was a big screen television we had never seen before between two large speakers. We were made to sit down and watch a Michael W. Smith music video about the crucifixion of Christ, a pre-cursor to Mel Gibson's "Passion of the Christ." It was pure Hell. It was violent and horrible, and a few kids cried out in terror. When it ended, no one said anything. My cabin was through skipping for the evening; instead it trudged. I found Gordy and walked with him to the bonfire.

Bunny: "That was messed up."
Gordy: "Yeah."
Bunny: "You're kind of quiet tonight."
Gordy: "Yeah."
Bunny: "What's going on?"
Gordy: "Yeah."

He looked a little bit like a zombie from the 'Thriller' video, only he was a cute zombie I desperately wanted to tongue kiss. As we cut through the woods and down to the lake for the bonfire, I noticed that a lot of the kids looked like zombies. No one was speaking.

The bonfire was uneventful, as all the kids were dazed. The Counselors lead us in apathetic performances of the God songs, and a few people roasted marshmallows, though the fire was too hot to do anything but torch them. When Pastor Bob led us in a camp wide prayer, I bowed my head and wished for boobs like Jenny's. Please God, Please! Gordy didn't speak much at all. When it came time to go back to our cabins, and I wanted to make out, he wasn't interested.

"Good night." And that was it.

Back at Forest Glen, the girls were somber. Everyone was distracted, with watery eyes from the smoke, and burnt odors wafting from their sweatshirts or jackets. After we had brushed our teeth and zipped up our bags, we were surprised by the late night arrival of Pam. Well, the girls were surprised. I was annoyed.

Pam: [In a serious tone] "I'd like to speak to all of you about something. Privately. Kristy, you first."

Pam led Kristy out onto the cabin porch. We heard the mumbling sound of two people talking for a good half hour. Kristy came back into the cabin red-faced and shaking. She tapped one of the Twins on the shoulder and told her she was next. The twin was terrified, but went onto the porch anyway.

One by one the girls went out, talked, and then came back in crying. I got so nervous I pulled the makings of a lanyard key chain out and worked on it, threading the plastic cords in and out with trembling fingers. I never liked Pam, but that didn't change the fact that she was the adult and we were supposed to listen to her.

When Big Red came back in she was wailing. "Oh ma Gawd! Oh ma Gawd! [Snort] Pam says I aint never gonna git to Heaven! I sinned, I aint never goin' to Heaven!"

Twin 1: [Rocking in a fetal position] "You're a whore, Big Red."

What was happening?

When it was my turn to go, I was so nervous I couldn't put the lanyard down. I took it out onto the porch, and this is when I saw that on each cabin porch a counselor was chatting with a camper. This wasn't just Pam, this was a camp-sponsored terrorization.

Pam asked me to sit down next to her. "Bunny, have you thought about making a more serious commitment to Christ in your life?"
Bunny: "Uh, not really."
Pam: "Do you want to go to Heaven?"
Bunny: Thinking that Heaven is how you feel when you tongue kiss a cute boy, &q uot;Yes."
Pam: "You'll never get there the way you live your life right now."
Bunny: "What?"
Pam: "You heard me, Bunny. You're on the road to Hell. You have to do something right now to fix this. You have to devote yourself to Christ..."

As Pam passionately lectured on, a horrifying thought dawned on me; these people are brainwashing us. The friendly Chapel sing alongs, the mentoring of our counselors, the team work drills... all of it leading up to this terrifying ultimatum given to us by the one person we relied on most, the adult. I had been so airheaded and horny I couldn't see the plan coming together. Now I was shocked.

Pam leaned into me. "Are you a virgin, Bunny?"
Bunny: "Yes."
Pam: "Good. Then there's still hope for you."
Bunny: "What?"
Pam: "You know that pre-marital sex is a sin, right?"
Bunny: "I guess."
Pam: "If you have sex out of wedlock you will go to Hell."
Bunny: "Huh?"
Pam: "And God will know, Bunny. God will know."
Bunny: "Huh?"
Pam: "Yes, God will know, Bunny and he will smite you."
Bunny: "Smite?"
Pam: "You will get terrible Herpes sores all over your body for the rest of your life, and they will never go away! It happened to a girl I know."
Bunny: "I will?"
Pam: "Yes. If you have sex, you will get terrible Herpes sores."

As it was immediately burned into my memory, this conversation is not an exaggeration. This is what Pam said that night, verbatim. I thought all sex caused Herpes for years.

We slept uneasily. In the morning we cool Forest Glen girls were depressed and tired. Big Red had kept us awake till all hours of the night with her wailing. "I'm dooooooooomed to Hell!!!!!!!!!" There was no emotional departure. We packed, hugged each other and said goodbye.

I'm not sure what happened to Gordy. His family moved to Cleveland, and I never saw him again. For all I know he is still an undead cutie wandering the woods of Chautauqua County.

Pam sent all of us propaganda and post cards for years after our summer at Camp Cross. We decided not to go again for obvious reasons. Ashley's parents literally barred her from going again, because when she got home she barely slept or ate, and regularly mumbled, "I am close to God now...I am close to God now."

I'm not sure whatever happened to the Twins, and I don't care.

Jenny is now a sales rep for a magazine in Albany, and is putting to good use her vivacious personality and ample sex balloons.

Kristy got married to an extremely patient man last summer. The wedding was beautiful, and not annoying in the least.

Ashley is still single. She teaches music to inner city kids, and is very popular for her fart-if-you-like classroom policy.

Hannah kicked her nose spray habit and became stunningly beautiful. She got married to a doctor a few years back who is successful and handsome, much more so than Jake. I was in the wedding party. Though he says it doesn't bother him, Jake looks like he wants to kick himself in the shins every time he sees her.

Big Red died in a car accident our senior year of high school. We all went to the funeral, and though we hadn't kept in touch regularly through the years, her mother burst into tears when she saw us and said, "That summer with you girls at Camp Cross was the best dang summer she ever had."

I thought about putting my pink bracelet in her casket, but I couldn't find it at the time. It didn't matter anyway. Big Red was once a fat, glorious, titty-showing goddess who had sex five times with a senior. What need for mementos had she?

Posted by at 10:12 PM

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