Adirondack Audacity Read Online Free Page B

pack up
and head to camp, let me introduce you to some of the
other counselors you’ll be working with this summer.”
Morris rubs his hands together and continues, “Let me
see if I have all the names and faces straight.” He glances
around at the group, tapping a finger against his cheek.
“Once we get you buckaroos introduced, we can hit the
road and head back to camp.”
    I notice a dark lanky kid leaning against the van roll
his eyes skyward and silently agree with him. Buckaroos,
seriously? This could be a long summer.
    “This here tall fellow is Mac Luciano.” Morris says.
“He’ll be the assistant director of sports this summer.
Mac plays varsity baseball and even had a few college
scouts check him out this spring.” Mac is over six feet tall
with straight brown hair that falls over his eyes, as if he
were trying to hide something. He’d be good looking
except for his large nose and acne marked face. As he
throws a baseball back and forth, I can’t help but notice
he’s missing half of the pinkie finger on his right hand.
He stops throwing the ball and extends his hand to me,
challenging me to touch his damaged finger. Little does
he realize, I’ve grown up with two younger brothers
who’s sole purpose in life is to gross me out. I reach out
and firmly shake his hand, our eyes meet and I return the
challenge…it takes more than a missing pinkie to faze
me, buddy.
    “Hey,”
he says, and with a mischievous grin, he leans
in and whispers, “Fall much?”
Crap….. so much for no one noticing my exit from
the bus.
Ignoring Mac, I turn my attention to Morris who is
introducing a kid wearing a tweed blazer adorned with
suede elbow patches over a white t-shirt, the cuff of his
blue jeans are shoved into unlaced hiking boots. His
blond hair is long enough to run a comb through, but
considered short in this era of the long haired hippy.
Looking at him, you can’t tell if he wants to be a Harvard
law professor or a farmer.
“Ellen, this is Ben Harmon,” Morris points to Ben
who is straddling a suitcase and strumming a beat-up
guitar. “Ben will be in charge of creating the props and
scenery used in our theater productions and bringing out
the musical talents of our campers.” Shorter than Mac,
Ben is solidly built with a ruddy Irish face. I feel his keen,
green eyes surveying every detail of my appearance, but in
a nice way. His scrutiny is more curious than malicious.
“Hi, I’m Ben,” he stands to shake hands. Flecks of
paint stain his t-shirt, obviously an occupational hazard of
one blessed with artistic talent.
“Nice to meet you, I’m Ellen McCauley.” I return his
handshake, thinking he has that cute, nice guy look about
him.
A tall girl with straight, ash colored hair is Theresa
Donaldson; she is perfectly groomed in carefully pressed
pink shorts and coordinating button down shirt.
“Hi, call me Tee,” she says, a welcoming smile on her
face. “I’ll be the tennis instructor this summer.”
She swishes an imaginary tennis racket through the air
followed by a rueful laugh. My first reaction to her
appearance......how is she so neat and clean? A glance
down at my rumpled jeans, wrinkled shirt and scuffed
boots confirms the bus company did not provide valet
service to whisk away the grime of travel. I tug my shirt
down in a vain attempt to smooth out the wrinkles and
try hiding my hiking boots behind a suitcase. Maybe after
a shower and clean clothes I can forgive her fastidious
appearance.
“Now this here little gal is…Katherine Hunt. This is
her second year. Katherine, oh yeah, I forgot you wanted
to be called Kat,” Morris shakes his head with a dubious
look at Kat. “Anyway, umm… Kat is working in the
theater program; she’ll be working with Ben.”
Kat flashes me the peace sign. “Just call me, Kat.”
This was uttered as a declaration, not a request. Her voice
is sensuous bordering on sultry. Tall and slender, gypsy
red curls tumble down