"So…?"
Jack looked over at Sam, who entered the room with a tired sigh and came over to sit down beside him on the sofa.
"So?"
She smiled; cuddling against him and reaching for the remote before he could start watching something she didn't want to.
"We haven't heard any distress calls from the camp, yet… think we should call and make sure Ian didn't kill everyone and hide their bodies in the forest?"
He chuckled and pulled her close, taking a half-hearted swipe at the remote control before giving it up for lost and accepting that he'd end up watching some kind of documentary that evening instead of Sportscenter.
"I think it'd take more than a single afternoon and evening to kill them all…"
"Ian's resourceful."
"True."
She rested her chin on his shoulder.
"We could call and make sure Shawn's okay…"
"But you're not worried about Shawn, are you?"
She shook her head.
"Shawn likes camp."
"Ian's not going to go crazy, Sam," Jack said, running his hand through her silky blonde hair. "A week at camp won't kill him."
"And you're not worried about him getting hurt?"
"Of course not."
"Then why did you call Janet to remind her that he was going – when it wasn't necessary?"
"Because I thought she'd want to know…"
"Uh huh." Sam wasn't buying that a bit. "And you didn't think Cassie could tell her?"
"Cassie has a lot on her mind, what with getting ready for school next fall…"
"Yeah. So you're not worried at all about the boys?"
"Of course not…" He brushed a kiss against her cheek. "I'm sure they're having the time of their lives…"
OOOOOOOOO
"She'll be coming round the mountain when she comes (toot, toot)
She'll be coming round the mountain when she comes (toot, toot)
She'll be coming round the mountain, she'll be coming round the mountain,
She'll be coming round the mountain when she comes (toot, toot)
She'll be driving six white horses when she comes (whoa back!)
She'll be driving six white horses when she comes (whoa back!)
She'll be driving six white horses, she'll be driving six white horses,
She'll be driving six white horses when she comes (whoa back!)
Oh, we'll all go out to meet her when she comes (hi babe)
Oh, we'll all go out to meet her when she comes (hi babe)
Oh, we'll all go out to meet her, we'll all go out to meet her,
We'll all go out to meet her when she comes (hi babe)
She'll be wearing red pajamas when she comes (scratch, scratch)
She'll be wearing red pajamas when she comes (scratch, scratch)
She'll be wearing red pajamas, she'll be wearing red pajamas,
She'll be wearing red pajamas when she comes (scratch, scratch)
She will have to sleep with Grandma when she comes (snee snore)
She will have to sleep with Grandma when she comes (snee snore)
She will have to sleep with Grandma, she'll have to sleep with Grandma,
She will have to sleep with Grandma when she comes (snee snore)"
Ian was ready to die. That was all there was to it. He'd been forced to sit through twelve songs – all way too long, and all repeated more than once so the kids could get them stuck in their heads – and he was pretty sure his own head was about to explode.
His head was pounding in time to the song, and he was certain that one more verse would be all it took to make him fall over the edge. Already he was planning some rather elaborate ways to steal the guitars from the cabins of the staff guys and make sure they were never found again – if that was what it took to make sure he wasn't going to have to sit through another evening of singing.
Not that he didn't like singing. He liked singing… Well, no. He didn't like singing. He didn't like slow songs, he didn't like old songs, and he definitely didn't like songs that required him to pretend to snore like a grandma. He didn't like anything to do with singing – at least not at a campfire. Not with a bunch of off-key little kids, and not with a couple of guitars as the only means of accompaniment.
As the song came to a close – and Ian waited with dread to see if they were going to sing it again – he breathed a sigh of relief. It was fully dark now, and well past nine o'clock. According to the schedule he'd looked at that afternoon, they were supposed to end their campfire at nine. They were running over, but he was certain that it was only a matter of time. He wasn't all that tired, but he would be grateful to be sent to bed. If only Gary Hines would get his ass up in front of the-
"Okay, kids," Gary said standing up and interrupting Ian's train of thought. "Time for bed!"
There were disappointed groans all around – except for Ian – and the Camp Director smiled. He was used to this. He'd been Camp Director for longer than these kids had been alive, after all.
"Lights out at ten, and make sure you get a good night's sleep! We have a lot to do tomorrow! Counselors, make sure you have all your kids before heading to your cabins, please…"
Ian looked around, doing a quick head count in the light of the dying fire. All of his were there – but when had that counselor Sierra moved over to sit beside River? He scowled, but he didn't say anything. It wasn't like they were making out or anything; they were just sitting beside each other. Really close.
"Come on, guys," Ian said, reaching out and taking Sammy by the back of his jacket. "Let's get out of here before they change their minds and we have to sing some more…"
"But I like singing, Ian," Chance protested, getting up as well.
"Me too!" Brian said.
"Me three!" Wilson agreed.
"Me fo-"
Chad's voice was cut off in mid-sentence when Shawn came up behind him and clamped his hand over his mouth, grabbing the boy in a friendly hug from behind and scooping him up into the air. While Shawn wasn't as big as River and wasn't as strong as Ian, he was still more than capable of picking up a little kid and tossing him over his shoulder like River had done with the little girl, earlier.
"Come on, guys," Shawn said, smiling. He hated to admit it, but he hadn't enjoyed campfire all that much, either. "Maybe if we go straight to the cabin and get ready for bed, we can convince Ian to tell us all about the bear that attacked him."
"Oooo! Really?" Sammy asked, squirming around in Ian's grasp so he could look up at the New Yorker. "Will you?"
Ian scowled. Really, though, if those were his options, he'd have gone into the forest, found another bear and reenacted it for the kids, if that's what it took to keep from singing any more that night.
"Sure. But only if you get River to hurry up."
River, who had been quietly talking with Sierra, suddenly found himself swarmed over by seven six year olds.
"Come on, River! We've got to get to the cabin! Now! Come on!"
He cast a suspicious look over at Ian, who gave him a smug smile, and sighed.
"Okay, guys… let's go."
What was the big hurry, though? He thought they enjoyed campfire? He certainly had…