Saturday - continued.
Lunch that day was not the most ideal for a vegetarian - American hotdogs. Though I consumed an ample amount of buns and salad, I felt a distinct lack of protein in my meal. Being a delicate soul that requires regular protein or risks days wracked in bed-ridden misery, I felt it wise to eat during free time that afternoon a few crackers with hummus to sustain me through the horrors of the afternoon. Though I had come through the Leader Hunt that morning relatively unscathed, I still had my doubts about the Great Big Hairy Beach Race still to come. I snuck into the kitchen and made myself some crackers along with the requisite cup of peppermint tea, retired to the private Female Leader's cabin, curled up on the big double bed and read while I ate.
The relaxed atmosphere, combined with the peppermint tea, made my eyes feel very heavy. My book fell heedlessly to the floor as I fell into a deep sleep I hadn't known I needed.
I woke up an hour later, yelping, when the siren went to assemble everyone for the Great Big Hairy Beach Race. It was most irritating to have such a beautiful sleep disturbed. Never-the-less, I awoke feeling much more energized. Surely, I thought, I would be able to handle this race. I set off to join my team in great confidence.
Of course, this had to be one of those occasions when positive thinking does not necessarily make for a positive experience.
The first part of the race involved six members of each team eating, in succession, a single dry weetbix each. Naturally, my team not having the greatest fondness for me after my evil-ridden bedtime experience, nominated me as being on of the six weetbix eaters. I sighed mournfully and dramatically, but decided not to complain too much. The key to getting through this unscathed was to play to my strengths. As strenuous activity was not one of them, anything else was to be focused on and done the best I could. I waited for my turn, saying nothing as I allowed my saliva to accumulate.
Eating a dry weetbix is much like eating delicious sawdust. The weetbix quickly absorbs all moisture in your mouth, leaving it dry and making it impossible for you to swallow. I pride myself that I did not take very long to eat my weetbix - our team was second off the mark to charge down the hill, run to the beach, and partake in the next part of the challenge - a search for a lolly buried in the sand. In this, too, I acted with full enthusiasm.
Unfortunately fate did not smile on us that day, for though we were the second team to reach the roped-off lolly area, we were the fourth to find our lolly. It was most disconcerting.
I won't go into too much detail of the events that followed - filling a hole-ridden bucket with cups of seawater, only to have it tipped over my head afterwards; burying a flag in the softest, most temperamental sand imaginable; hangman (which I solved - "Princess" - thus supporting my team with my intellectual prowess); transporting a tire down the beach without touching it; burying said tire without touching it; dragging four of our smallest teammates in a sack across the beach; and running as fast as we could between each activity. The activities stretched all the way across the beach, so there was a great deal of running to be done. I ran at a steady pace I could handle, and arrived only slightly later than my campers who somehow were able to get there faster than me on their short, stubby legs.
Finally nothing remained but to run back to camp. My campers all sped off, leaving me behind to slog my way along. My general unfitness, combined with a certain, hum, female ailment turned each step into a thrust of agony. The best I could manage was a fast walk. I apologised profusely to my campers as they ran back, shouting "Hurry up, Zara!" before running ahead once more. I was so slow that Fellow Leader Elliot and his team were in danger of overtaking us; but I made it at last, and at the very end managed to tie with them for first place. I could feel the glares of my campers stabbing into my back as they knew as well as I did that we would have come third-exclusive had I been able to run faster. I felt completely miserable. I took myself off to have a shower, for the bucket of water tipped over my head had left my hair riddled with sand.
Showers tend to have a mystical affect on me. No matter how miserable or angsty I am, I always emerge feeling better. I took myself off to visit my campers and listened to their good-natured teasing in fair humour, and promised to take up badmington so that next year, I would not be so unfit.
That evening there was to be a special Hollywood-themed banquet night. As a form of amusement during the banquet, we were to build "limosines" beforehand out of bamboo, flax, and wheels hewn from a tree trunk.
Perhaps all the running throught the day had exhausted most of my team, for it seemed that only Fellow Leader Ryan, a couple of campers, and myself were the only people working on our "limosine" (actually more like a three-wheeled go-cart). Junior Leader Sophie and Other Elliott lolled about on the grass giving each other back massages, and the rest of the team followed their example.
Of all the activities we did that camp, that was the one I enjoyed most. I loved being able to use my mind to come up with the most efficient and functional design possible. Juggling possibilities, reviewing options, thinking what if this were to go here, instead of there; finally, I felt like there was something to do that I was good at. Fellow Leader Ryan was also fantastic; together with our two solitary campers we came up with a design featuring an x-frame that was quite sturdy, though the wheels were not quite in alignment and our use of flax left the aesthetics less than satisfactory.
After that we had to run off and get ready for the banquet - it was rollicking good fun, swapping jewellery and makeup, offering compliments to one another, and forcing Fellow Leader Sara into something a bit more styling than shorts and a top. (We half-succeeded. We managed a nicer top, though she retained the shorts.)
It occured to me ten minutes before the banquet began that that evening Izak and I were to do a skit. We'd been planning the skit for the past week or so, yet we had only come up with the ending that morning. I ran off to locate Izak and Elliot, who would be helping us out, and demanded we run through everything - but the hooter went to summon all the campers, and all we had time to do was hastily assemble props. Izak cut out a large piece of paper to use as a dropsheet. We found an innocuous location to store a chair and we issued Elliot with strict instructions as to the method of its deployment. Izak gave me his i-phone. I found a pair of scissors but, as I looked down at the dress I was wearing, belatedly realised I had no pockets to store it in. Seeing no other alternative, I shoved the scissors down the inside of my bra and anticipated an uncomfortable evening spent covering up winces as the sharp points of the scissors poked into my ribs. The ladies in the kitchen shot me several strange looks as I did so. I am convinced that they now thought me totally mad.
Then came the banquet. The hall had been done up with balloons and fairy lights suspended from the ceiling, and a red carpet led up to the front door. Former Fellow Leaders Rosemary and Jono had come up from Hamilton to visit, bringing with them a soundsystem and disco ball. A large patch of floor had been left bare for the evening's entertainment. I took one look at the disco ball and empty space and decided, right then, that there would be dancing afterwards, no matter what.
We feasted on a roast dinner and a delicous chocolate brownie dessert. The evening was OC'd by Head Leaders Tony and Dave, who punctuated events with frequent 'yo mama' jokes which were, by their nature, inevitably lame. I showed off Izak's i-phone to various people, basking in their admiration for its sleek, styley design.
"Can I hold it?" someone asked me.
"No, sorry," I replied. "No offense, but it's my precious, and I don't give it to people unless I really trust them."
"I see," she said, looking disgruntled.
Unfortunately she also spotted the scissors as I surruptitiously tried to shift them from an uncomfortable position.
"There's a pair of scissors stuck underneath your dress!" she cried in alarm. Heads up and down the table swivelled in my direction. I felt it useless to dissemble.
"Why yes," I said. "Yes there is."
A multitute of mouths gaped open.
"Um, why?" someone thought to ask.
I quickly cast my mind around for a decent enough reason.
"Self defence," I said, firmly and confidently.
"What?" everyone chorused.
"Self defence," I repeated, and added, "I carry a pair of scissors around with me everywhere."
"But why?" asked Other Elliott, bewildered.
"Well, it's illegal to carry a knife around, you see," I explained.
"But why carry them around in the first place?" he asked.
"Like I said, self defence." I focused on him and said, quite seriously, "You never know when you might need them."
"Even at a kids camp?" he asked incredulously.
"Even at a kids camp," I reiterated. "There are psycos about wherever you go."
Seeing that everyone was still staring at me with a look of disbelieving surprise, I felt a need to go on. "I usually carry them around in my pocket, but of course this dress doesn't have any. I have a special bra-holder to keep them in for times like this, though I prefer not to wear it because it gets quite uncomfortable." I fiddled with the scissors as I spoke.
"I'll bet," said Other Elliott faintly.
"Yeah, I've been meaning to get it padded for a while now."
"Can we see it?" asked Shelley interestedly.
"Excuse me," I said acidly. "We're in the middle of a banquet. I am not about to strip off in front of everyone just to show you my bra."
Shelley was unable to reply, for at that moment Head Leader Dave stood up and announced that Izak and Zara would be doing a skit. I rose gracefully to my feet and headed towards the front. I was still holding the i-phone. I made to hand it to someone to keep for me, then decided to just keep it in my hand.
Izak was talking to everyone in the hall. "Hey guys, I hope you're having a really great time at camp," he said. A loud chorus of Yes! was recieved in response. "Zara and me have a skit we're going to do for you-"
I cleared my throat noisily and rolled my eyes. Curse Izak and his ungrammatical English. He turned to look at me.
"Zara and I," I corrected him.
"Oh, right," he said, laughing. "Sorry. In case you don't know, my name is Izak and this is Zara. Me and Zara -"
"No, no," I snapped, interrupting him. "Zara and I."
He looked at me incredulously. ""Would you rather you just did this yourself?" he demanded.
"Oh, don't be silly Izak - I am merely of the opinion that if we are to do a skit in front of people, the least you could do is attempt to speak properly with full regard for the rules of proper English grammar," I said, quite reasonably.
"I know what this is," said Izak. "You don't trust me, do you?'
"Of course I trust you!" I said indignantly.
"Oh, yeah?"
"Yeah!" I glanced down at the phone in my hand. "I - I trust you with my i-phone."
"Oh, really?"
"Yes."
"Go on then, pass it here."
I smiled and tossed it to him. He fumbled trying to catch it, and it fell with a heart-sickening thud to the floor. We stared at it in horror.
"Woah, crap," said Izak.
Hysteria rose in me. "Ah!" I shrieked. "Ah! Argh! ARGH! ARRRGHH! YOU BROKE MY I-PHONE!" I fell to the ground and began to hyperventilate.
Izak crouched down beside me. "Breathe, Zara, breathe, just take deep breaths!" he shouted.
I followed his advice, sucking in air with deep, pain-ridden gasps.
"Okay, take smaller breaths, smaller breaths!" Izak cried. "It's okay, just calm down!"
I began to calm down. "You - broke - my - i-phone," I hissed menacingly.
Izak had the grace to look shamefaced. "I'm really sorry about that," he said. "If it makes you feel better, I trust you, too, with my looks and stuff..."
"Really," I said coldly.
"Yeah, I mean, you've got a real knack for that sort of thing... I would totally let you cut my hair if you wanted."
I whipped the scissors out from my bra. Izak looked apprehensive.
"Er, yes, well, you can't do it now, I mean, we don't have a drop-sheet or anything," he preambled.
Elliot rushed out at that moment carrying the sheet of paper and spread it out on the floor.
"Oh. Yes, well," floundered Izak, all excuses fled. "Best get onto it." He bent as if to sit over, and Elliot placed a chair beneath him.
I grinned evilly and sauntered over. I seized a lock of his hair and began to chop. Gasps and cries of no way! issued from the audience.
I held up some hair and let it fall to the floor.
"Hm," I muttered, studying Izak's hair critically. "Whoops..."
Izak spun around. "What, what, what did you do?" he cried in alarm.
"Nothing, nothing, it's okay, just turn around and I can correct it -"
"YOU DON'T SAY "WHOOPS" WHEN YOU'RE CUTTING SOMEONE'S HAIR!" he bellowed, leaping out of his chair and turning to glare at me.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," I snivelled, "I can fix it -"
"Have you ever cut anyone's hair before?" he demaned.
"I - I cut my Barbie's hair once," I said defensively.
"Oh, yes, and how did that turn out?"
"Well, she sported quite an interesting pixie-cut for a while..."
"Right, whatever," snorted Izak. "I reckon we're just going to do this the old-fashioned way with a traditional team-building activity."
"Traditional way?" I asked.
"Yeah, like you stand there, and I stand here -" he moved to stand in front of me - "and I fall, and you catch me. Got it?"
"Yep, you fall, I catch you, totally got it," I said, taking up a stance ready to catch him.
"You sure?"
"Yes, I'm sure, just go!"
"Really?"
"YES!"
Izak toppled forward and face-planted himself upon the floor. A cry of pain escaped him.
"OH MY GOSH, ARE YOU OKAY?" I shrieked, running and crouching next to him.
"Arrrrgh," moaned Izak. "You were supposed to catch me!"
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!" I sobbed. "Are you going to be okay?"
"Yes, I'm fine, calm down, I'll be alright," he said, attempting to stand up. He tried putting his weight on his leg. "OW!" he cried, and collapsed in agony.
"Oh my goodness, are you hurt? Are you going to die? Oh please, tell me you're not going to die! Do you need anything? What do you need? Tell me what you need!"
Izak cut over my panicky babble. "I need you to call an ambulance!" he shouted, mouth pinched in pain.
"Okay, okay, I've got it!" I cried. I scrambled to my feet and darted around anxiously. "WHERE'S MY PHONE?" I shrieked.
"It's there on the ground, where I dropped it!" he yelled.
I frantically pushed some buttons. "It won't work, it's broken!"
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!" we shouted in joint cries of despair, and froze.
"End scene," said Izak to tumultuous applause.
The "limos" were tried out after this, and our team got the highest marks for steering and stability for it did not wobble or even break as some others had. We were in danger of getting points off for its less than appealing looks, what with the flax flapping about haphazardly, but I quickly came up with an excuse and said that we, Over the Hedge, were trying to channel our team spirit by having it resemble a large bush.
We also had a race to see who could get furtherest down the hill. Again, our team won. Our team shrieked and clapped and cheered, and I, on an emotional high from both the success of our skit and our limo, hugged as many people as I could.
Of course, all good things must come to an end, and the banquet was no exception. As soon as the banquet was declared to be over, I rushed up to the sound-crew and demanded they play music we could dance to. They played some tunes from the 60s and I began to dance, and tried to convince other people to join me. Mostly I got weird looks, particularly from Elliot. I know I must have looked a bit of an idiot, dancing extravagantly all by myslf. Izak gave it a fair go, and a couple of others did to, but it wasn't until they began to play "We Will Rock You" by Queen that people got really into it. I had a whole baccanalia of campers stamping their feet and clapping along to the music. I sang and danced and laughed and people joined me. Then someone had the bright idea of pulling the balloons down from the ceiling, and there followed a massive balloon-popping frenzy.
It was one of the most happy, excitable buzzes I have ever experienced, and I am proud to say that I helped create it. In fact, the only thing better than creating that buzz was destroying it afterwards.
"BED! TWENTY MINUTES! NOW!"
Ah, bliss.
No comments:
Post a Comment