Chapter 7 Camp Continues
At Camp
Christine spent the next morning acquiring and practicing caving skills. She shimmied through cramped tunnels, climbed a 3 foot wall enclosed in a cave-like space, worked her way down an 8 foot wall with a partner, and learned to wriggle, twist, and hold her breath for a few moments to get through tight spaces. By lunchtime, she sported several bumps, knots, bruises and sore muscles on her arms, legs, and torso, and a small goose-egg on her forehead from a low-hanging rock.
Meanwhile Michael Vincent learned the difference between larvae and first stage instar pupae, gathered some meal worm eggs and their wriggling parents into specimen jars, and coaxed a non-poisonous spider onto a twig he held down into a fish tank. He handled a garter snake and a grass snake, and spread some fly eggs across a petri dish coated in a nutrient agar base. He'd seen his father do all these things at the Jeffersonian, but the procedures were much harder to complete on his own, especially while wearing latex gloves which were slightly too big for him. Twice he nearly dropped a petri dish lid trying to cover his specimen. "I realize these gloves don't fit you guys perfectly, but you have to learn to adapt to field conditions, and sometimes the correct size gloves aren't available and you have to use what you have," the entomology counselor told him and the other campers.
Nonetheless, both kids were full of excitement when they reunited for lunch and spent the time interrupting one another telling of their experiences between bites of ham sandwiches, fruit, and milk.
After lunch, Christine and the other caving campers were told to retrieve their day packs from their tents and meet the counselor back at the dining hall at 1 pm. She ran to her tent, opened her duffle, and pulled out the army green day pack with glow in the dark patches which her parents had helped her outfit and pack. She checked inside to make sure she had her headlamp, multi-tool, first aid kit, compass, a simple flash camera, and two water bottles. Satisfied that all was in order, she zipped her duffle shut and stowed it under her cot.
The counselor led them on a half-mile hike to the entrance to a small cave. "This isn't a large cave, but you are beginners and it will challenge your current skill level. There are short stalactites and stalagmites; not as impressive as you may have hoped for, but you can study and examine these close up. Just be sure you don't touch them."
Paired with a boy from Kentucky, Christine spent the next two hours crawling, reaching, climbing, sliding, and scrutinizing the mineral formations the counselor had pointed out. She filled in a page of her notebook with her observations and measurement estimates. After they exited the cave, the group sat down on rocks outside and discussed what they had seen, observed, and experienced. The counselor noted that Christine's estimated measurements were fairly close to the actual height and length of the mineral formations she'd examined. "You have a good eye for details and estimation; good start," she praised Christine. The counselor mentioned accomplishments of the other campers to build their confidence and the group was in a good mood on the hike back to the dining hall as the sun began to paint the sky with colors.
Michael had correctly identified three species of beetles that inhabit the forests of Appalachia. He successfully mascerated mealworms without breaking his test tube, and injected saline solution into an orange. His afternoon had included peering at slides of insect wings through a microscope, and he found it fascinating.
Once again, their suppertime was spent regaling each other with stories of their day's activities. Christine showed Michael some pictures on her phone that she had taken of the stalactites and stalagmites. He was fascinated with them. "I wonder what causes that scaly-looking texture on that stalactite right there," Michael mused.
"I couldn't tell you; the counselors didn't discuss their mineral content with us," Christine responded. "I'm sure my mom or your dad could tell us in a minute."
Competitive games of Trivial Pursuit filled the time after dinner, and the pair soon bid each other goodnight and drifted off to sleep immediately, worn out from their day's activities.
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Thursday afternoon arrived before they knew it. Given the choice between swimming, hiking, and rock wall climbing during their free time, Christine and Michael decided to take a hike together. After informing their counselors, they were told to return within an hour and a half.
The pair set off. Michael wanted to go to the cave. He was still fascinated with the pictures she had taken of the stalagmites and stalactites.
Christine hesitated. "I don't know, Michael, it's a good half-mile walk to get there."
"Oh, come on, Chris, please?I wonder what causes that scaly-looking texture on that stalactite right there," Michael mused.
"Well, you can look at it all you want, but you're not allowed to touch it," Christine warned him. "The counselor said that the oil in human skin can damage the mineral deposits and stop them from growing. Do you have a headlamp, Michael? I don't have an extra one to loan you. "
"Yeah, Chris, my dad bought me one to use when I go to the latrine at night. He also put a small emergency beacon/transmitter in my daypack in case I get lost or injured. You know how he loves to cook up conspiracies to talk about; well he convinced Mom that I might fall and knock myself out, so he added the transmitter. It turns on automatically if my day pack strikes the ground. Overkill on being prepared, if you ask me, but they didn't; so here it is."
The two friends shouldered their day packs and started off toward the cave. "We can't go into the actual cave; I haven't had enough experience to show you how to do that, but there are a few stalactites and stalagmites just inside the entrance that you can look at," Christine cautioned Michael Vincent. Within twenty minutes, the pair had reached the cave. They donned their headlamps, flipped them on, and crouched to enter the cave.
"Stop inside the entrance, Michael," Christine reminded her friend.
"Yeah, yeah, I know," he responded. "Here we go!"
Once they'd crept the five feet into the cave's entrance, the pair were able to straighten and stand upright. "I see the stalactites! There's a scaly one. I think that may be calcite. It's the right color," Michael exclaimed. Suddenly, Christine yelped with pain, lurched forward, and fell hard, striking her temple on a rock which protruded from the floor.
"Michael, I've twisted my ankle; the strap of my Chaco is caught in a crevice in the rock. Ohhh, that hurts!"
"Lie still, Christine, let me look at your foot. It seems to be turned at the wrong angle, and you've got a nasty cut on your forehead."
"Michael, I can't free my foot! What are we going to do?" Christine attempted to wrench her foot loose several times, but the sandal strap was wedged tightly.
"Let me try to cut it; we are gonna be in so much trouble if we don't get back on time," Michael worried aloud. "This is my fault, I shouldn't have tried to convince you to show me the cave."
"I don't want to cut the strap on my Chaco's; I just got them for camp and they cost $85. My dad will freak if I ruin them!" Christine objected.
"Chrissy, I can afford to buy you a new pair if I need to. It'll be much worse if we don't show up when the counselors told us to. They'll probably send us home early, and then we'll both really be in trouble with our parents. Your mom will never let you go anywhere again. If I cut the strap right next to the rock, it won't be that much shorter and you can still wear them. Your dad and mom will never notice anything."
"Yeah, right,' Christine wailed. "Did you forget I live with Super Detective Agent Man and the Bone Lady? They both notice EVERYTHING!"
"Yes, you're right about that. Maybe you'll get lucky and they'll think it tore at camp. Gosh, I forgot I left my pocket knife at home," Michael realized.
"Look in my pack, Dad gave me a multi-tool thingy that has all sorts of doo-dads and gadgets. There's a jack knife and a scissors on it." Christine urged him. "Ohhh, my head is starting to hurt!"
Michael carefully slipped the straps of Christine's day pack off her shoulders and loosened them to open the top and look inside. He located the multi-tool.
"Here, hand it to me, Dad showed me how to open it so I don't cut myself. It's a little hard to do if you've never done it," she told him. Christine pulled out the knife, opened the blade and handed it back to Michael. "Don't cut yourself!" she urged him.
Michael cut the strap as close as he could to the rock. He helped Christine to straighten her foot, and wrapped her ankle with the Ace bandage Angela had insisted he put in his day pack. Then he helped her stand, and replaced both their packs on their shoulders.
Carefully supporting Christine, he helped her walk slowly out of the cave, and they started back. The hike back took nearly an hour, since she could only limp and each step was painful.
Reaching the clearing at the edge of camp, Michael helped Christine sit down, and went to find her counselor. They returned and helped Christine to the nurse's office. The motherly lady complimented Michael's wrapping job, and gave Christine some Advil for her headache and the pain in her ankle.
"If it still hurts in the morning, I will take an xray of your foot, Missy. In the meantime, you're going to spend tonight here in the infirmary with your foot elevated and ice packs around it to stop the swelling."
"Can I bring Christine some dinner and play chess with her afterwards?" Michael asked.
"No, honey, the staff will bring her dinner, and if you want to eat here, they can bring yours here also. You can play chess as long as she keeps that foot elevated. Just be sure your counselor knows where you are, and get back to your tent by bed check," the nurse responded kindly.
"I won't be able to do any more cave exploring with my foot hurt like this," Christine wailed later as the pair ate their dinner.
"Maybe it's not sprained too badly, Chrissy. Let's hope for the best!" Michael encouraged her.
After several chess matches, he told her goodnight, patted her hand, and went back to his tent in a despondent mood. "I got my best friend hurt, what kind of a friend am I?" he thought as he laid on his back staring at the tent roof after lights out.
A/N: FaithinBones suggested this prompt in the first place. A reviewer Mstgszy suggested having the kids get into a fix, and get themselves out of if, so their parents are none the wiser, until someone lets their secret slip and they have to explain what happened to their parents. Thanks to both of you; I hope this story fulfills your expectations.
