A Place Called Home by David Ambroz

A Place Called Home by David Ambroz

Author:David Ambroz
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: None
Publisher: Grand Central Publishing
Published: 2022-09-13T00:00:00+00:00


Chapter 13

ONE WEEK AFTER I FINISH eighth grade, a rusty gray Cadillac rolls up in front of 10 Christopher Lane. The driver, Bobbie, is a high school friend of my brother and sister, with a suspected crush on Alex.

“Ambroz, let’s go,” Bobbie hollers, but I’m already walking out, backpack slung over one shoulder. The car’s exhaust is a thick white cloud that sits unmoving in the early summer morning. Everything is electric—the grass is super green, the sky, super blue.

Bobbie talks as she drives. “So…cool. Day one is pretty relaxed. I’m going to be working with the older kids, but you’ll be a junior counselor in Camp Ibits, with the younger kids. You’ll like Ibits, the kids are adorable. My cousin, Holly—the woman that I got to hire you—she runs the camps. She’s super nice and super busy. She’ll love ya but expect the world from you at the same time.” I’m just thrilled to be out of the house and getting paid.

The day camp is one town over from Holyoke, and we pass a stretch of farm country between the two towns. As we approach Northampton, the houses get nicer, larger, and better-maintained. The retail along the streets is quaint, with none of the vacant storefronts I’ve seen in Holyoke. We jackknife into the upper parking lot at the YMCA.

“Okay, let’s do this!” Bobbie says, and she puts her arm through mine as we walk toward the front door. The YMCA is a low-slung brick building. Inside, I am hit by the smell of a chlorine pool. Bobbie steers me to the right, into the larger of the building’s two rooms. “The campers get here later,” she explains as we join the rest of the counselors and junior counselors. We take our seats in a circle of chairs.

“Hello, counselors!” Holly says, walking into the center of the circle. It’s my first look at her, and she is beaming. She has long, curly brown hair and bright eyes. She’s fit, wearing high-waisted jeans and a tucked-in camp shirt. But what stands out most is her radiant smile.

After introductions, I’m sent over to Camp Ibits to prepare for the campers’ arrival. The room is festooned with brightly colored images of happy children, streamers, and designated activity areas. There’s a paint station, a dress-up area, a train set, and a reading nook.

“Hi. Hi. Who are you? I’m Brianna, but you can call me Bri. Lots of people call me Bri.” A small girl, maybe five years old, comes right up to me as the other campers are still saying goodbye to their parents.

“Well, hello, Bri. I’m David. Where is your backpack?” I ask. I’m supposed to help the kids put their backpacks in cubbies.

“In Mom’s office,” she says, and without further explanation she grabs my hand and says, “Let’s read.” She leads me over to the reading corner. “Sit here.” She points to the floor, and I sit. She walks over to the bookshelf to make her selection. Her chestnut hair is cut in an adorable bob, and she’s wearing a summer dress patterned with watermelons.



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