That Friday morning, the mail came for the campers. Everyone opened their mail, glad to hear from their loved ones back at home. Ronnie was disappointed when she hadn't received a letter. It was to be expected, her mom being on tour overseas, but it still was a bit dis -concerting. She at least hoped her father would send something, but he resided in London at the moment. She envied the look of happiness on everyone's face as they read their letters, some out loud. She felt the corner of her eyes moistening, but she quickly wiped it away, hoping nobody saw. Calmly, she pulled her notepad and began scribbling away, writing a poem entitled

The Letter that Never Came.

Letters, amazing how mere paragraphs

on a piece of paper can hold such powerful

sentiment for the reader

Some letters have the value of relief,

other letters the value of nostalgia

I read letters for confirmation,

confirmation that I am cared

about, confirmation that I

matter to someone, confirmation

that I'm loved and adored

Where is my letter? The letter

with the warmth of maternal

magic? Without my letter,

I am a corpse, cold and dead

I can't find my smile without

my letter

Most want fame, most want riches

I just want to read my letter, the

letter that never came

She stared at the poem before closing the notepad and putting it back into her pocket. She sighed sadly and sat in her favorite spot for breakfast.

The four wrestlers made their way into the mess hall. The sight of Mark eased some of Ronnie's distress. She snuck out to see him almost everynight at the lake. They talked about the arts and spirituality mainly while they smoked marijuana. There was nothing like having a deep and meaningful conversation by the lake. Mark understood her in more ways than one.

As Mark sat across the table from her, she tried not to let it show on her face how pleased she was to see him. But Mark knew better. He smirked slightly as he helped himself to two muffins.

"I see everyone else with a letter," he said as he poured some orange juice, "where's yours?"

The flame of joy that Ronnie felt suddenly flickered out.

"I uh, didn't get one," said Ronnie, breaking off a piece of her muffin.

"Oh?" said Mark, "Sorry, chili pepper."

"Sorry?" said Ronnie, "you didn't do anything, it was my mom who didn't send the letter."

She hacked at her sausage links moodily. Mark knew not getting a letter upset her.

"Ron," he said quietly, "what's your relationship like with your mom?"

"Complicated," said Ronnie, "I love my mom to pieces, don't get me wrong, but there are some days when she can be a real bitch."

"What do you mean?" asked Mark.

"I don't know how to take her sometimes." said Ronnie, "somedays she was fun to be around and we did everything together. Then there were other days where I was the target of her brandy fueled fits. She'd accuse me of going in her liquor cabinet, or go off on me for something stupid like leaving my bookbag in the doorway. She and my father argued all of the time about her tendency to fly into senseless rages. He left because he was tired of the constant insanity and has been living in the UK every since. That poem you read up in the mountains, that was about the day my father left.

"Some days I want to leave too, but I know my mom would unravel. I'm all she has. Like I said, I love her, but it's confusing, her hugging me and saying she loves me, but then throwing things me saying I'm such a needy brat. I need stability."

It did not surprise Mark that Claudine Peyroux had a history of problems with anger. He remembered at a performance in Memphis when she went off on three people who had been heckling her in the crowd, even assaulting one with a glass bottle. She had later remarked that 'Petula Clark or Lesley Gore didn't have to put up with this bullshit'. She was one of the greatest jazz blues singer since Billie Holliday and commanded respect.

"Family is important, Ron," said Mark, "No matter how many times you bicker or fight with them, in your time of need, they will have your back. No matter what anyone says, people need family."

"Yes, you're right," said Ronnie, "I just wish she'd learn how to defeat her demons though."

After breakfast, Kaitlyn asked everyone to form a circle. The only sound that could be heard was the scraping of chairs as the campers and counselors scrambled to make a circle. As they sat down, Kaitlyn waited for the chatter to die down before speaking.

"Good morning everyone," she said, "There is two things that I would like to announce today. Next week is Independence Day. And we will be having a talent show and BBQ that day. For the next few days, we'll start making decorations for the stage. Any camper who wants to participate in the talent show, let any of the counselors know. We have sent invitations out to your parents and they will be driving up here to enjoy the festivities with us.

"The second announcement I wanted to make it that today, we will be camping outdoors. After lunch, we will be heading out to the woods. We will be preparing our dinner using the campfire. It should be fun tonight, are there any questions?

Everyone shook their heads.

"Great," said Kaitlyn, "just hang back for a few minutes, while the other counselors and I discuss today's regular schedule."

The campers whispered excitedly as Kaitlyn and the other counselors consulted each other. They were already talking about what they wanted to do for the talent show.

"I'm going to sing America the Beautiful," Lisa was heard saying, "It's family tradition, we do it every 4th of July during cookouts."

"Hey Paul," said Micah, "How about you, me and Terry do a reenactment of the Declaration of Independence?"

"Sure, man," said Paul, "with Terry, we can add a funny twist to it."

Ronnie already knew what she wanted to do. She wanted to perform the Star Spangled Banner, Jimi Hendrix style. She had a Fender Stratocaster similar to the one Jimi used at that Woodstock event, given to her by her father for her 14th birthday. The only problem was, it was sitting in her bedroom at her apartment. She couldn't tell her mother to send it; She was overseas. Maybe she could ask her neighbor to get it.

That morning, the campers headed to the gym to do some indoor rock climbing. The counselors helped the campers with putting on the equipment and made sure the harnesses were stable. It took some campers a few tries, attempting to climb the wall. Once they got the hang of it, they started racing each other to see who could climb to the top first. Mark, being the tallest of everyone, climbed the wall with effortless ease.

After lunch, everyone got ready for the outdoor camping experience. The counselors and the campers headed to the storage and gathered up sleeping bags, flash lights, and other things they would need for that night. Everyone was in high spirits as they trekked up the trail, singing Boom Chicka Boom, lead by Curt, their voices echoing throughout the woods.

They settled in a nice, spacious area with tall birch trees and a bunch of wild shrubs. The forest floor on which they stood was nice and soft, comfortable enough for them to sleep on.

"Smell that?" said Shawn, inhaling deeply. "That's the smell of sweet woodlands, my friends. A natural high!"

"Sure is," said Bret, "Nothing better than being under the influence of Mother Nature."

"Damn straight, my man," said Shawn, clapping Bret on the shoulder.

After everyone was settled, Kaitlyn asked the campers and counselors to form another circle. Mark stood by Ronnie, who flashed him a quick smile, which he returned with delight.

"Alright, we're going to play a game of I'm Going to A Picnic," said Kaitlyn, "I'm going to state I'm going to a picnic, and I'm bringing an item. Then the person to my right has to say the same thing and I'll decide whether you can come to the picnic. So listen carefully. I'm going to a picnic and I'm bringing kiwis. Now you try Lenny."

"I'm going to a picnic and I'm bringing lemonade," said Lenny.

"Great, you can come to the picnic." said Kaitlyn. "Micah?"

"I'm going to a picnic," said Micah, uncertainly, "and I'm bringing pancakes."

"I'm sorry, you can't come to the picnic Micah," said Kaitlyn. "Ellie?"

"I'm going to a picnic and I'm bringing salad," said Ellie confidently.

"Sorry, Ellie, you can't come to the picnic either," said Kaitlyn. "Mark?"

Mark, who'd played this game as kid, said, "I'm going to a picnic and I'm bringing marshmallows."

"Excellent Mark, you can come to the picnic," said Kaitlyn, "Ronnie?"

"I'm going to a picnic and I'm bringing ribs," said Ronnie

"Very good, Ronnie, you can come to the picnic too," said Kaitlyn

Some people got the game, while others were really confused. But as they listened to the ones who could got to go to the picnic, they finally caught on; You had to say an item that started with the same letter as your name.

"I'm going to a picnic," said Paul slowly, "and I'm bringing...pizza?"

"Great job, Paul," said Kaitlyn enthusiastically, "You can come to the picnic!"

Paul let out a big whoop, causing everyone to laugh.

Finally, Terry, who had yet to get it, said, "I'm going to a picnic and I'm bringing...um,"

"C'mon Terry, you can get it," said Donna encouragingly.

"What're you bringing, Terry?" said Derek, "think about it."

"I'm going to a picnic," said Terry, "and I'm bringing turkey sandwiches."

Everyone cheered as Kaitlyn said, "Nice, you can come to the picnic now."

After playing that game, they moved on to another game where Derek presented a blue hand ball. The object of the game was everyone had to catch the ball. The person who dropped the ball would be out of the game. It boiled down to Curt and Juan. The campers and counselors watched the back and forth duel between the too, which seemed to be going on forever.

Curt tossed the ball. It sailed like a bullet and Juan mishandled it and dropped it on the ground. Everyone clapped as Mark, Bret, and Shawn slapped him high five. Curt then went over to Juan and said, "nice battle, buddy."

The afternoon sailed past and the evening settled into the day. The lowering sun cast an intense red-orange glow all over the forest.

"Hey Mark," said Shawn, "think we oughta get dinner started?"

"Sure, man," said Mark, "We have the basics like hot dogs and burgers, but let's spruce it up. I got some extra things from Tony while we were getting the food. I was thinking we make some cowboy beans."

"Hell yes," said Shawn, "there's a water pump around here, I'll get some water."

"Hey guys," said Bret to the campers, "how about gathered up some wood. So we can get the fire going."

"Yes, sir," said Vincent going with Juan, Joey, and Lamar to pick up any twig, branch, or log they could gather.

When Shawn returned with the water and the boys returned with the water, Bret showed everyone how to create a fire using the sticks.

"You know how when you rub your hands together and you feel heat?" said Bret, "that's called friction, and it's crucial in starting a fire using sticks."

He rubbed the sticks togther rigorously. Everyone was crowding around him, eager to see Bret make fire. It took a while, but once smoke started issuing from the wood.

"Amazing," said Vincent as the stick became lit.

Once they got the fire going, Mark started cutting up stuff and chucking them in the Dutch oven, while Shawn and the others started making the burgers and hot dogs. Pretty soon, delicious smells were issuing from the Dutch Oven. Everyone's mouths were watering while they waited for the cowboy beans to be done, but it would be a while before the beans would be ready, so Derek decided to entertain the crowd by singing Acapella. He had an amazing voice. Curt and Lenny joined him in singing Frankie Valli's Under the Boardwalk.

When the food was finally ready, everyone lined up and made their plate. They ate with gusto, as if they never tasted anything more delicious in their life. Everyone came up to Mark and complimented him on how good the cowboy beans were. He gave a slightly flirtatious smile to Ronnie when she complimented him on it.

As night fell over the woods, the campers and counselors made s'mores and told stories. Lenny told a story about Cropsey, a crazy axe wielding maniac who stalked the campgrounds looking for people who wandered in the woods at night. All of the campers, except Ronnie looked uneasy. When it was time to say goodnight, people like Lisa could be heard saying to her friends, "That story wasn't true, was it?"

It was around 11 o'clock when people finally started falling asleep. The sound of crickets chirping, people snoring, and owls hooting kept Mark up. He laid on his back, staring up at the first quarter moon. Even through the trees, he could make out the Big Dipper. He wished someone was up with him, staring at the beautiful celestial sky. But some things you had to appreciate by your lonesome. There would be other chances.