LITMIR.BIZ

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Without her family? What if she got really homesick and started crying? What would the other kids in the cabin think? She forced herself to think about brushing out her horse’s mane, resting her head against his warm neck and breathing in the horsey smell. With this, her breathing slowed and she settled deeper into her seat. Four weeks at riding camp as far away from a pool as possible was pretty much the best thing she could imagine. If only she wasn’t so scared.

      Chapter 2

      Gillian started bouncing again as the bus finally pulled off the twisting highway onto a gravel drive. They had been descending for the last half hour. By now, she really did have to pee and she was feeling a little bus sick. They passed under the camp sign. She was finally here. She’d read about it so often and now she was about to see it first-hand. As the bus came to a stop near a large grassy clearing, the girls gathered their things and filed out the door, stretching their legs and squinting in the sun. After the air-conditioned bus, Gillian welcomed the warm afternoon rays on her face as she checked out the scenery.

      She was standing at the bottom of a massive hill on an open, grassy field that was surrounded by trees. Across the field, she could see a river with steep rocky banks. There were more hills on the other side of the river. A wooden sign nearby told her the field was called “The Range.” Another sign pointed at a trail through the trees that led to “The Homestead,” and a third sign with pictures of horses on it pointed to a path on the opposite side of the field.

      Nestled against the nearby hillside sat a big stone building labelled “Dining Hall.” The full-length porch with a three-seat swing and several Muskoka chairs looked like a cozy place to hang out. By the riverbank, there were some small huts and a shed. A little farther downstream, a homey log cabin was painted dark red, and the door was marked as “Libby’s Place.”

      Gillian’s gaze came to rest on an older woman who stood watching the girls. The woman wore jeans and a red plaid flannel shirt. Her grey-blonde hair was swept back in a tidy braid. Her skin was wrinkled around her eyes, either from smiling a lot or spending hours squinting in the sun. Gillian knew instantly this was Libby Brown, owner and head instructor at Canyon Falls. She had been a member of the Canadian National Team and had competed in dressage and show jumping. She had even gone to the Olympics before she changed the direction of her career.

      “Welcome, everyone.” Libby’s voice was strong and clear, and the excited chatter of the girls fizzled out. “Welcome to Canyon Falls. Counsellors and counsellors-in-training, please join me.” Eight of the older girls lined up in pairs on either side of Libby, one of each pair holding a numbered sign. “Your counsellors and CITs are all experienced riders. Most of them have attended camp for several years so they know how things work. This is Carmen.” Libby pointed to a tall, sturdy girl with black curls contained by a red bandana. Carmen held the sign with the number one. Libby went on, “She’s the head counsellor. If I’m not around, she’s the boss.” Libby turned away from the campers and raised her eyebrows at Carmen with a grin. “They’re all yours. Good luck.”

      Carmen stepped forward and smiled. “Hello, ladies.” Her voice rang out higher and louder than Libby’s. Gillian was drawn in by the enthusiastic tone. “I look forward to getting to know you all over the next four weeks. The first rule of camp is no cell phones.” The campers were expecting this but groaned anyway as a few of the counsellors began collecting and labelling phones. The phones would be returned at the end of the month. “You’re here to ride, but also to disconnect. If you have free time, talk to each other. Play cards. Write actual letters home on paper. We’ll send them to your families by mail.”

      One older girl called out, “Mail? What’s that? I think you forgot the E.”

      Carmen rolled her eyes but went on, ignoring the interruption. “The little huts behind you on the riverbank are the bathrooms and shower house. Your cabins are up the path to the Homestead. Each cabin has an outhouse nearby so you don’t need to trek all the way out here when you have to pee at night...” A few of the girls groaned and some held their noses. Three of them started a chorus together, singing, “On the Homestead we pee in the woods, ’cause the outhouses don’t smell so good...” Gillian giggled along with some of the other girls but her laughter faltered as Stella grumbled at the thought of smelly outhouses.

      Carmen spoke over them. “You can teach that to your cabin mates soon. For now let’s get sorted out. Counsellors, don’t forget to hand out the whistle bracelets and assign bathroom buddies. I would hate to have anyone come across a bear in the middle of the night on their own with no whistle.”

      Bears! Stella yelped. We’re not leaving the cabin at night ever! I don’t care if our bladder explodes! Gillian started to grin at the thought of exploding, but she still felt a bit sick at the possibility of encountering a bear, even with a friend and a whistle. Were bears afraid of whistles?

      Not likely! Stella answered the silent question. Blowing a whistle is probably just going to let somebody know where to come find what’s left of you after the bear is gone! Gillian shuddered.

      At the end of the gathering on the Range, the girls were sorted into their cabin groups. There were six girls per cabin with a mix of ages and camp experience in each so that the older, more experienced campers could help out the newer girls. Robin was Gillian’s counsellor and Naomi was the CIT assigned to her cabin. Robin was tanned with long muscled limbs. Her dark hair was pulled back into a smooth ponytail. She was calm and welcoming. Naomi was shorter with a round, freckled face. Her eyes gleamed and her red tangled curls bounced when she moved, mirroring her energy. Robin explained that Naomi would function just like a full counsellor throughout the session and the campers could go to either one of them with a question or a problem. The girls giggled through the explanation as Naomi did clumsy but enthusiastic cheerleading moves behind Robin while she spoke. The cheerleading continued as the counsellors herded them along the path to the Homestead. But there was less laughter as the girls half dragged and half carried their heavy luggage to the cabin. Eventually Naomi made her way to the back of the group and grabbed backpacks from the girls trailing behind. She pretended to stagger under the weight of two small backpacks, groaning. The girls at the back giggled again through their breathless exertion. Jordan caught up to Gillian. “Hey, Fidget! Cool that we’re in the same cabin. You want the top or the bottom?”

      “Um...” Gillian hesitated. “I don’t know. I’ve never slept on a top bunk before.”

      “Oh, it’s great! Gives you a whole new perspective. You should try it. I’ll sleep below you and if you don’t like it we can switch,” Jordan said. “But you have to promise not to squirm around like you did on the bus. You don’t want to wake up on the floor with a headache and everyone staring at you. Happened to me last year. Somehow I flopped right over the rail. Minor concussion according to the nurse at the clinic. Couldn’t ride for a few days but I didn’t have to go home or anything.”

      Bottom! Say bottom! Stella whispered.

      “Top is good,” said Gillian as she yanked her duffle bag over a tree root. She wished she could listen to Stella. She was nervous about sleeping on the top, but Jordan was being really nice and Gillian didn’t want to disappoint her.

      After a short walk the girls found themselves in front of cabin three. They dragged their things up the six steps and shuffled inside. The cabin smelled of pine and the air was cool, just like the shaded forest. Four bunk beds lined the side and back walls in a horseshoe shape. The counsellors were already set up on one of them along the back. Gillian looked around the space. She didn’t know these people. The mattresses were thin and flimsy. The floor creaked. It wasn’t like she expected it to be fancy, but she hadn’t been expecting it to look quite so bare. She chewed on the inside of her cheek and fiddled with her backpack strap. What was she doing here? Her gaze flicked around the cabin and locked with another girl’s. The other girl’s eyes were wide and frantic. She looked like she wanted to bolt. Gillian thought that seemed like a good plan. She turned to face the door. But Jordan grabbed the backpack off Gillian’s shoulder, spinning her to face a bunk on one of the side walls. She tossed Gillian’s pack onto the top mattress. “C’mon, Fidget. Time to unpack.”

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