Day Six — Morning

“So, you’re telling me you don’t remember a single thing from last night’s speech? Not even the part where Sammy almost attacked you, or the part where you talked about holding your sister’s tears in a locket, or even the part where you said FOOTBALL PLAYERS loved YOU?” I say to Liberté, who is lounging on the retro, neon orange couch of our private lounge, massaging her temples.

“Yes, Basil, I am. For the third time, I am telling you no. Nope, nopeity nope. Some more nope on a rope. And your shouting is not helping my massive migraine. Do you have gum or something? My breath reeks of chocolate.” She replies.

“First of all, I am not shouting. I always talk like this. Second of all, you said you outlawed gum this summer because it wasn’t ‘nature-y’ enough for you.”

“Oh. Right. Then I’d like an Advil and one of those gallon jugs of water we keep in the closet for emergencies. My health is definitely an emergency. And fetch me a peppermint leaf. I can chew that into a pulp and pretend it is gum. Hurry up now, I’m waiting. Now what are we supposed to do today? Hiking, was it? Right, I’m excited for that. A mile hike and a beautiful view of the lake from the cliff is surely what we need to make everyone happy again, I think. Basil, are you back yet?”

“Yes, I am. I was back when you started talking about hiking. Also, you outlawed Advil, too, for the same reason as the gum. I saw it on that list you have on the closet with the emergency supplies that says ‘Outlawed Items”, which also surprisingly includes miniature cars, princess crowns, and tandem bikes. So, instead, I found a vial of this weird purple stuff labeled ‘headache cure’ which oddly smells like gingery grape juice. Also, we don’t have any peppermint leaves here, maybe Palenia Piper does, though. Anyways, I poured it into the water jug and now the water is a light purple, but it will encourage you to drink the whole gallon. Also, I think we need to go to the pavilion, the campers should be flooding in right now, and I suspect we should be there, as we are the counselors.” I say, giving her the jug and watching as she stares strangely at the bottle before hesitantly drinking it.

Liberté caps the water and dries her mouth, before standing. She wobbles a bit, using the arm on the chair beside her to stabilize. I, then, walk towards the exit of the lounge, Liberté following not far behind. A hushed voice comes from the other side of the door, resembling a small child’s shrill voice, the child who belongs by blood to Liberté Reine. And she did not sound nice.

“...I don’t care what you do! Just get out of here.” She says.

A person mumbles something and stomps away before Liberté dramatically bursts the door open, capturing Snow’s face twisted into horror. She looks at her aunt, more afraid than the fearless child has ever been. 

Lucky for her, Liberté collapses.

“Don’t treat the campers like that, Snow, you know better.” I mumble, picking up Liberté and bringing her back into the lounge.

“Yeah, whatever.” She snaps before walking off.

“I think… I may have… moved too fast.” A voice from the couch says.

“Yes, I know, I witnessed it. Here, take this and put it on your forehead. Then get some rest.”

“Okay.”

Before I can even hand her the cold compress, she is fast asleep.

***

The campers arrive at the dining pavilion, only to be met with empty tables, prompting NerdFace to hum ‘Empty Chairs at Empty Tables’, also prompting Nightfall, dreamii and Pine to break out into sobs and Sammy to complain that the singer of the song is singing about people dying, which oddly relates to the situation they are in right now. So she stops. 

Palenia Piper rushes out and profusely apologizes for the delay, but she never got orders from Liberté or Basil to start the cooking, and Snow is nowhere to be found. She then, on a whim, decides to take personal orders from each of the 16 campers, before ordering the Scarlet Cabin members (who are supposed to be on dinner assistance) to help her in the kitchen. Within 30 minutes, and still no counselors, Piper Palenia has finished everyone’s individual meals and each camper sits with some sort of substance in front of them. 

Sammy, Freak, and Zachary both have sunny-side-down eggs and a piece of buttered toast, accompanied by assorted stone fruits. Nightfall has two waffles neatly stacked on top of each other, smothered them with fresh berry sauce, and topped them with a slight dusting of powdered sugar. Ari and Braoin have flattened waffles, topped with an unhealthy amount of ketchup and mustard. Sterling and Icarus have a banana and a cereal bar that came from a package. NerdFace, Adrian, Aspen, and AutumnArtist all have steaming hot bowls of Palenia Piper’s famous cinnamon apple mush (oatmeal), which they eat in large spoonfuls. Kitty Cat eats a salad, which they claim is for breakfast, but no one really judges. Luna-Starr, dreamii, and Pine share a giant pancake breakfast platter, accompanied by bacon, eggs, fruit, cottage cheese, and slices of quiche. 

Breakfast, for the campers, is quite well.

However, for the counselors, it was a different story. 

***

Liberté is still passed out on the couch at 10am, the time she is supposed to meet her campers for a delightful hike up Juniper Hill, and peer down at the crystal blue pond down below. I have done nothing to wake her up, though, because I have been the recipient of a thrown shoe after doing so. Thankfully, Snow bursts loudly into the lounge and makes enough noise to wake her up, facing the wrath of a cranky Liberté, who, however, is feeling much better than before. 

“WE’RE OFF SCHEDULE, WE’RE OFF SCHEDULE, AHHHH.” She shouts, sliding on shoes and marching out the door, leaving a figurative dust cloud for Snow and I to eat. 

“Go tend to your campers, Snow, I’m leaving.”

“Just because I am the mere age of seven, doesn’t mean that I can’t stay in the lounge alone.”

“Sure, but I don’t trust you. And I said what I said. So go.”

Snow glares at me with an evil so disgusting, but I ignore it. She exits the room, leaving me with the scent of ginger grape juice and chocolate barf on the carpet. I sigh, heavily, before walking to the supply closet and retrieving cleaning supplies, so Liberté does not throw a fit when she comes back. 

Whistle while you work… do do do do do…

***

Campers can be seen on the cliff that juts out of Juniper Hill. They can also be seen in a grassy field braiding flower crowns, as well as in the craft hut, and talking to Palenia Piper. But for some reason, Snow is nowhere to be seen. And there is no way off the island everyone calls Camp Juniper.

*** 

Dead: 5 (Hot Coco, Ydris "Masquerade" Dìomhaireachd, Felix, Inari, and Summer May they rest in peace in the glory of Camp Juniper)

Alive: 16

Suspects: dreamii, Kitty Cat, Sterling, and Icarus

Enemies of Snow: Zachary, dreamii, and AutumnArtist

Juniper Leader: Sammy (with two juniper branches)   

Day Six — Afternoon

After a cool, partly cloudy morning, the sun had emerged to become a blistering ball of fire. Though the campers have temperature regulating sweatshirts, their faces are still prone to turning to a fierce red, requiring only the finest sunscreen (SPF 800, and includes fine threads of unicorn hair, in case you were wondering). Even Aspen, who protests that she’s never been sunburnt, ever. The only problem? 

Snow had eaten the special sunscreen, mistaking it for ice cream, so Liberté decided to take matters into her own hands.

Let’s just say it didn’t go too well. 

She took random ingredients Palenia Piper had in both the Nurse’s office and the kitchen; coconut oil, aloe vera gel, shea butter, walnut extract, and powdered zinc oxide. Where she got the zinc oxide, especially powdered zinc oxide, I do not know, but I’ve learned not to question. One time, I asked where she got those dresses for the feast, and we turned from that, to talking about the best way to murder someone, but I digress.

Anyways, she melted everything in a pot, added the shea butter, and canned it. The pasty white stuff was so thick, that it looked like someone barfed up marshmallow salad and spread it all over their face. 

I can tell you, from personal experience, that it was nasty.

Thankfully, I was able to bribe Palenia Piper into finding her super secret stash of extra sunscreen for the campers, so I guess the whole sunscreen debacle was truly meaningless, though I would like to inform you that skin cancer is a really dangerous thing, and you can die from it. Oh, and while I have you, WATERMELONS ARE A GOVERNMENT CONSPIRACY!

Thank you.

***

Once Liberté and I can force the sunscreen onto the campers, and we’ve treated Freak for his abnormal allergy to the combination of unicorn hair and zinc oxide, Liberté boots myself, and the rest of Chartreuse cabin out of the courtyard, just because we are barely one minute off schedule. She blames it on Freak of course. 

“If only you weren’t allergic to healthy stuff, we’d still be on schedule!” She shrieked before we escaped the sound of her voice and headed for Juniper Hill. 

***

Though the sun is hot, and the air is sticky, the mile hike isn’t that bad. Ari finds blackberry bushes and picks them all, insisting they’re for Palenia Piper and her custard tonight, but I’ve watched her finish every single berry. I don’t mind though, Miss Palenia Piper has her own blackberry bushes near the kitchen. Freak stays silent most of the time, except for frequent complaints about his throat, or his face, or something that I’ve honestly stopped caring about since the first time he complained. Sterling took the lead, trying to find reasons to latch onto a rocky part of a cliff and spider climb sideways instead of walking along the trail. She did, however, find a patch of stinging nettle, and pick some for supper, but not without the consequences of stinging and nettle rash. I did provide special gloves to treat such matter. AutumnArtist brought a disposable camera, taking pictures of certain nature arrangements or animals hiding in the shrubs. They turned out quite well. I might even frame one. Adrian and Pine trail far behind picking wildflowers for their CBer counterpart as requested. 

At the top of the hill, there is a small cliff that juts out, a perfect overlook for the entire camp below. You can see the vibrant colors of the cabins with their adjacent flags, as well as the intricate lodge and craft hut, the tips of the trees that make up the forest, and the most beautiful of all, the crystal blue of the pond near the craft hut. If you look carefully enough, you can see the koi that Liberté insisted we must put there. They’re beautiful, though. The orange and the white bring contrast to the green plants that live under the water. If I could, I would live on the cliff, but alas, I am not allowed. 

Unfortunately, falling off a cliff is a perfect way to die.

***

The murderer knows this is the perfect place to kill their next victim, the only problem is the sunlight. If someone notices, it would be way too easy to figure out that they were the murderer, ergo, breaking rule number five. Thankfully, Basil has the others distracted, acting like your really old grandpa who thinks he knows everything about nature, but then he really does know things. 

AutumnArtist strays from the group, trying to find a good angle for a picture of a woodpecker. What a silly girl. Everyone knows the rules of group travel. The murder doesn’t care, though. Even better for them. A.A was their target, and now, well, she shall die. 

“I like the camera.” They whisper, plucking it out of her hands and observing it. 

“Oh, it’s nothing. Just less breakable.” She replies, with a sad smile. “Could I have it back?”

“No. I don’t want it to break when you fall.”

“When I what? No. NO. NO PLEASE!” 

AutumnArtist’s voice is lowered in a hoarse whisper. Another mistake on her point. 

“Too bad you have to die. I liked you.”

“Then don’t kill me.” She whispers bluntly. “And give me the camera back.”

She takes her third and final strike, leaning forward to grab the plastic camera, when the murderer gives her back of her knees a swift kick and she goes flying off the cliff, landing with a small thump, a pool of blood growing beside her. They throw the camera over to Basil, hitting the back of his leg, causing him to snap his head back and pick up the camera. Just enough time for the murderer to rejoin the group, pretending as if nothing happened. 

“Basil? Look at that view of the birds over there.” They say.

Basil looks towards the birds and immediately spots AutumnArtist. He gasps in horror and sprints down the hill, leaving the campers alone. They’d kill everyone, if it wasn’t for the stupid rules. Instead they follow, a small grin on their face.

The plan was complete.

***

It takes all the energy I have left not to pass out at the sight of AutumnArtist’s mangled body and pool of blood, but the fact that she is still breathing helps a bit. Liberté spots me, back from the hike twenty minutes too early. She comes over, prepared with a whole speech on how counselors aren’t supposed to give up or some cheesy stuff, and that’s when she sees the poor girl laying on the ground, eyes fluttering, bones poking through her skin. She yells for Snow, who brings a white plastic bag for us to carry A.A to the nurse’s office. Thank goodness Snow is only seven. Otherwise I might have chucked her across camp. But I didn’t. I promise.

Liberté and I gather AutumnArtist onto the bag so we can carry her to the nurse’s office without getting the blood everywhere, before ordering Snow to watch for my campers coming down the hill. We move faster than I’ve ever seen Liberté move, and I’ve seen her punish an adult older than her, and she was like Sonic then, of course, but I digress. Again.

Once we arrive in the hospital section of the nurse’s office, we lay Autumn down easily, careful not to disturb her body. Palenia Piper comes over with supplies and tries to help stop the bleeding.

“It’s too much damage, kiddos, I’m sorry. There’s nothing I can do. I’m sorry.”

Liberté sobs dramatically while I watch as Autumn’s chest heaves before taking her last breath at Camp Juniper. The heater nearby squeaks, and I sigh. 

“She’s dead, I’m sorry you two.” Palenia Piper says, patting us each on the shoulder before leaving.

Somehow, this murder hits me hard, harder than others before. And I think it’s because I could have stopped it. I could have saved the girl. This is all my fault, and I know it. It hurts.

The heater squeaks again, it’s a lonely one, I can tell. It only wants a friend.

And I only want to reverse time.

Dead: 6 (Hot Coco, Ydris "Masquerade" Dìomhaireachd, Felix, Inari, Summer, and AutumnArtist. May they rest in peace in the glory of Camp Juniper)

Alive: 15

Suspects: dreamii, Kitty Cat, Sterling, and Icarus

Enemies of Snow: Zachary and dreamii

Day Six — Evening

The mood in Camp Juniper shifted dramatically from the cheery, sunny state-of-mind everyone was in earlier, during the hike, to a glum, depressing one. It was like an ominous rain cloud had shifted into the sky. In fact, a few rain clouds had decided to join us. Perhaps they felt as if it were their job to help the mourning by covering the joyful sun, casting a dark shadow over the normally vibrant Camp Juniper. Many trudged their feet through the overgrown grass field, choking back tears. Some AEs cling to their CBers and never want to let go. Other CBers, the ones who didn’t bring AEs, cling to other CBers to steady themselves. Liberté hid away in our private lounge, moving quite quickly through the first three stages of grief, but it seemed she was stalling in the depressive phase. Snow was not in the vicinity, but I assume she had found her own phase to mourn. 

At Camp Juniper, it had never rained. Ever. Sure, rain clouds came every once and a while, but they had always dissipated eventually, without a drop of water falling. It didn’t rain when Hot Coco died, or when Masquerade, Felix, Inari, and Summer died. It didn’t rain when we were building the camp. When thunder boomed and lightning struck the eve of day four, not a single raindrop loosened itself from the dark, overarching clouds above. It had seemed that there was a drought, though the plants and greenery thrived; it seemed as if it wasn’t possible for rain to fall in this dimension; it seemed as if rain would never come at all. 

But then something happened, something so rare, that maybe it could bring a smidge of happiness to the campers, Liberté, Snow, and I, just because of its occurrence, though the sky, itself, was sad. 

For the first time in the entire existence of Camp Juniper, the clouds let their tears stream down their face and fall down onto their friend, earth, quenching the eternal drought. And it brought joy.

Liberté trudged out of the lounge and finally passed out of the depression stage, moving into acceptance. She twirled and danced in the rain, letting go of everything that she had encountered for the past six days, letting it melt away in the wind. She let her hair out of her normal, perfectly braid. She laughed. Liberté laughed. She let herself get soaked, without even complaining about the water. She inhaled the sweet smell of rain, something she had always talked about, but never saw. And she was happy.

Snow came out of hiding, running straight to the pool of mud, splashing around in the filth, acting like a child her age, instead of the old soul trapped in a seven-year-old body. She threw mud into the air, letting it rain down on her, making her unrecognizable to anyone who didn’t witness this rare event. 

Everything got more exciting when Snow threw chunks of mud at Liberté, blending into her navy blue dress, though the smell was recognizable. Contrary to what many would think would happen when mud was pelted at such an uptight, regal person, Liberté joined in, throwing mud back at her niece, a true picture of family. If only one of them weren’t up to something more, you’d think that maybe, just maybe, it could be like this for the rest of their lives, but it couldn’t. It was just too hard. 

While the rain fell from the sky in bucketfuls, pooling on the ground, making puddles to stomp in, and mud to throw, I sat in the confines of my bedroom, watching the delight from afar, dry and warm, wrapped in a wool blanket and accompanied by a mug of steaming hot coffee and a good book. Though rain is special, something that has never occured here before, I do not care much for the water, but the aftermath of the rainfall, when the air smells sweet and born anew, cleansed of the poisons that had hung in the air, sticky and dark, clouding the otherwise beautiful nature. 

The enjoyment of rain is a rather broad topic, where, some like Liberté, like to let loose and feel alive, or others are like Snow, who like to get dirty, stomping in muddy puddles and building castles out of the cement-like soil, or even people like me, those who do not prefer the wet, rather enjoying the thump of raindrops on windows and the warmth of drinks like coffee, tea, or hot cocoa, and then living in the aftermath of everything, where the air is sweeter than before. 

So when it rains for the first time in forever, you must choose to enjoy it, no matter what way, because the rain could be your last.

You never know when you could end up dead.

***

After three hours of steady rain, the clouds finally begin to dry up, moving away from the sun, but not enough to see the pleasurable blue sky again. However, if you faced your back to the sun, you’d be able to see a rainbow. One that stretched from the west end of the camp, to the east end. All the colors were bright and vibrant, with no sign of ever fading from the sky. Perhaps it could mean that even in the darkness, some good would come, perhaps it meant something more complex than that, perhaps people would stop dying, perhaps we could all enjoy the summer here, with no more mishaps. 

But I could only hope. 

***

Liberté had come inside an hour ago, exchanging her sodden clothes for a similar navy blue dress, though this one was without the brown splotches of mud, thrown by Snow, and created by the miracle that had happened upon us. She tied her hair back up, allowing it to dry in a tight bun. She then proceeded to wrap herself in a woolen blanket and collapse onto the couch, falling into the best sleep she had since she was a small child, with no care in the world, except for the love for her family. She dreamed of rainbows and large bowls of lemon sherbet, basking in more delight that she had neglected and kept out of her life for the sake of remaining pressed, polished, and professional in front of others.

When there is change, people adapt, most likely becoming better versions of themselves, letting a part of their past fall into the colder, grey memories, like childhood and adolescence. And when there is a magical thing called rain, well, you can only imagine what kind of things can happen to people.

***

Snow stayed out in the rain and mud until the last drop fell from the sky, and even when the water stopped, she enjoyed the mud and wet until the mud hardened into cracked dirt, and the water absorbed into the ground, feeding the hungry soil. And only once she could not enjoy the outdoors anymore, she came inside, her head hung low, and her feet dragged behind her. She removed her brown-stained, angelic-like white dress for a clean one, as well as washed the muck out of her hair and tied it back into the tight beehive-like bun, just like her aunt. Though, instead of falling asleep afterwards, she left the lounge and headed for the courtyard, asking Miss Palenia Piper for a bowl of her famous apple cinnamon mush, and devouring it, making it look as if it never existed. After that, she disappeared from the main sight of the camp, running off to do whatever was deemed important to her at that time. 

And for some reason, she was no longer the seven-year-old girl she had been during the rainfall, but instead someone completely different, someone unrecognizable, someone who might have changed for the worse.

***

When the rain finally stopped, I traded out the couch, the blanket, and the mug of coffee, for a spot at the wooden picnic benches outside, where the sun beamed down rays of warmth and the air smelled like ripe summer strawberries and the pine sap from only the oldest trees. Where the world felt perfect for that moment. Where I forgot, for just a second, that anyone had died. Where I forgot the hardships of the past six days, instead thinking of better days to come. Where it was quiet except for the whisper of the trees as they danced in the post-rain breeze. Where I felt like I could stay for hours and never feel like I was missing out, or feel like I had some sort of responsibility to tend to. Where I felt like I was home. 

However, nothing is forever, and all good things must come to an end. 

***

A shriek, ear-shattering and disturbing, echoed throughout the camp, causing Liberté to wake, Snow to come out of hiding, and myself to look up from my book. I looked around for the source of the annoyance, to find Kitty Cat and Nightfall running out of the forest, Nightfall at least ten feet from a red and blotchy Kitty Cat. Once closer, I noticed that Kitty’s redness was not from exasperation or the running, but from a nasty, inflamed batch of hives, speckled all across their face, arms, and exposed ankles. They cried out in agony once more, her hands twitching as she resisted the urge to itch away her problems. When the two arrived in front of me, I could see how bad the rash was and immediately stopped my book and got to my feet, ushering them both to the nurse’s office. 

“What happened here?” I asked, quite horrified at Kitty Cat’s skin.

“Well, we decided to go exploring in the forest, and Kitty fell into a large bush of poison ivy, it seems. Of course, as I knew, I made sure that they did not itch the hives; I stayed quite far away from them, as to avoid contracting ivy rash myself; and I rushed them back here. I was not expecting to find you, instead Liberté, but you will do just fine. Anywho, I know that, to treat it, we need some calamine lotion and about 15 milliliters of Benadryl to help soothe. I expect Miss Palenia Piper should have those supplies in her office, but I just thought, as I am an expert, that I should let you know.” Nightfall answers, as Kitty nods along, still twitching from the itch.

“Thank you Nightfall, but I think I got it from here. I’ll make sure to put in a word with Liberté about your helpfulness, but for now, I’d like to just take Kitty to the nurse, seeing that you are not harmed yourself. Thanks again.”

Nightfall nods and runs away, back towards the meadow, as we arrive at the nurse’s office. Palenia Piper tells Kitty to get onto the hospital-like bed that AutumnArtist had laid on just before them, while providing the remedies Night had recommended just a few minutes ago. She promised Kitty Cat that they were going to be alright, while handing them oven mitts and duct taping the mitts to their arms so they cannot itch the wounds. She told them soothing stories as they cried out in pain. She stroked their hair when Kitty finally fell asleep, proving the Benedryl was working. And she reminded me of someone I missed dearly.

My own mother.

***

On the other side of camp, Liberté was awarding Day Six’s juniper branch to the person who identified the most types of trees in the area. Sure, today’s activity was quite easy, but it also rendered helpful on the brains of so many CBers and AEs who still dwelled on the death of AutumnArtist, which had happened just five hours ago. When she called out Luna-Starr’s name, the rest looked around guiltily, as they were nowhere close to the number of trees she had guessed, but Luna felt triumphant, as she was finally among the top. Maybe she could actually win this thing.

If only her near future weren’t so dire.