Another day in the camp

“Welcome to “The Gorcey Camp” dear unruly children!” the voice of Mr. Hathaway resounded in the speakers, followed by a loud false laughter. He was a tall thin man with a flatback posture. The hoary head and wrinkled face highlighted his old age. He was the man that, for 15 years in a row, had been organizing the summer camp for re-education. 

If you are wandering how I ended up there, I’ll explain to you now. My mother’s fiancé, who is my stepfather, is a supervisor in the camp. In other words, he makes sure that nobody leaves the area. For two years now, he has been trying to convince mum that I needed to be re-educated, because I keep coming home late on weekends. I’m 16 and that’s what people at my age do. We stay in the park laughing and talking until midnight. My mother knows all of my friends and they are not a bad entourage at all. I mean nobody smokes or drinks alcohol. 

I hated Mr. Golan from the day mum brought him home for the first time. He always wears a sullen expression and I think I saw him smiling only twice in my life. I have nothing against their love, but I assured my mum I’ll never call him dad. My father passed away four years ago and my mother fell into depression because of that. I remember seeing her cry almost every night with the face sunk in a pillow. Fortunately, Mr. Golan showed up in her life and made mum regain her confidence. 

Let’s move on to the toughest day of the camp. The day number 23. Yes, I was keeping track of the time I spent in that “prison”. There was only one more week to stay. Mr. Golan knocked hard on our door in order to wake us up. The clock indicated a quarter past six, so we had 15 minutes to get ready for the morning exercises. I put my stripped T-shirt on and took the pants from the back of the chair. I brushed my teeth, washed my face and I was ready to go. I didn’t wait for the other three roommates for it was a torment to arrive late at the meeting point. For being unpunctual, you were told to run three laps around the building. It happened to me once and I thought Mr. Golan would overlook me, but he didn’t care I was his stepdaughter. 

After one hour of exercising, soaked in sweat, we rushed to the showers. Then, we had to put on the freshly ironed green T-shirts and headed to breakfast. I took a tray and waited in a line to receive my meal. Nancy, my friend, was already at the table, keeping a free place on the bench for me. She was sent in the camp by her mother after she threw a party without the parents’ consent when they were out of town. The girl had a dark complexion and her wide smile was revealing immaculate white straight teeth. 

I was eating in silence for I was too hungry to talk. We had scrambled eggs with bacon. Suddenly, Mr. Hathaway emerged in the canteen, holding a speaking-tube. We were told the schedule of the day. First, we had to harvest corn until lunch. Then, we had a one-hour rest before the group therapy and the last activity was a running race. Every day in the morning, we were put to do physical labour and after lunch, we had discussions with a psychologist on different themes. 

We were each given a bottle of water and we set off to the field. I forgot my cap in the room, but I didn’t have time to go back. Unfortunately, it was another day of heatwave. The air was so hot that I was feeling a burning sensation in my nostrils while breathing. We had been walking in the sun for about 10 minutes until we reached the cornfield. We didn’t even begin the work and my T-shirt was already sweaty. We were divided into teams and sent on different rows. Luckily, I was standing next to Nancy, so we could talk while working. 

As time went on, the pile of corn kept growing and the sun was shining brighter than ever. I could feel sweat drops flowing all over my body. My brunette hair was attracting the sun rays and when I touched the top of my head, I got burned. Nancy felt sorry for me, so she insisted on giving me her cap. She was dark-haired too, that’s why I didn’t wear the cap for too long. However, I was pretty sure I already had heat-stroke, for I was so dizzy that I could barely stand on my feet. Nancy noticed I didn’t feel well and told me to lay down while she rushed to my stepfather for help. My sight was blurred and I felt the ground spinning. That was the last thing I can remember before I fainted. 

I woke up in a bed with a wet cloth on my head. I tried to stand up, but I felt sick. Next to me, I saw the face of Mr. Golan and Nancy’s silhouette was in the doorway. They were both glad to see me awake. 

“You’ll need a few days to recover.” my stepfather uttered and I nodded. 

“It is my fault you ended up like this. I’m a horrible father and I regret bringing you here!” he continued in a trembling voice. I looked him dead in the eyes and noticed a tear taking shape at the corner of his eye. It was the first time I saw this grave person cry. 

“Don’t blame yourself! I learned a lot in this camp and I also made a best friend.” I told him and motioned for Nancy to come. 

“Girls, what would you say if I tell you that the rest of the days, you are allowed not to do the physical labour?” Mr. Golan asked us cracking a smile. 

“We would love that!” Nancy said excitedly. 

Before my stepfather left the room, I stood up ignoring my sickness and gave him a tight hug. It was the first time we touched each other. We stayed like that for a while and I felt the warmth of a father. I really missed that.