Princess Angelica, Camp Catastrophe Page 2

  Amber forgot to pack her hair goop. “Can I borrow some of yours?” she asks me.

  “I don’t use any. I also don’t worry about how my shorts look. And I don’t have a full-length mirror.”

  Joon gasps. “You live in a castle and you don’t have a full-length mirror?”

  Jenna comes up with an explanation for me. “I bet Princess Angelica’s lady-in-waiting chooses her outfits and tells her whether to tuck her shirt in or out. Am I right, Your Highness?”

  “I do have a lady-in-waiting, and a gentleman-in-waiting too. They’re the ones who took me to the bus. But in our kingdom, we don’t fuss about what to wear or how we look. Kids have more important things on their minds—what we like to call higher pursuits.”

  “Speaking of high,” Amber says, “Your Highness, I spotted a ladder by the outhouse. Didn’t you say you’d have a look at the roof?”

  Jenna crosses her arms over her chest. “Princess Angelica never said anything abou—”

  I stretch out my arm. It’s my royal signal to let Jenna know I can deal with Amber. “I’ll look at the roof now.”

  I make sure the ladder’s feet are firmly planted on the ground. When I climb past the window of our bunk, I see that Jenna is modeling another pair of shorts and Amber is braiding Joon’s hair.

  When I get to the third-to-last rung of the ladder, I can see the roof. It’s flat and covered with tar. I know I shouldn’t step onto it. If something goes wrong, the camp could get sued. But I want to show off my repair skills to Amber and the others. It’s a good thing I positioned the ladder close to the section of roof over Amber’s bed. Because when I lean over to inspect the roof’s surface, I spot a crack in the roof and a small hole, just a bit bigger than a quarter.

  Ah-ha.

  A hairpin won’t help. Duct tape would come loose in the rain.

  I close my eyes. Coming up with solutions requires as much imagination as inventing stories.

  Maybe my nose works better because my eyes are closed. Or maybe last night’s rain is making the smells around me stronger. For a moment my nostrils are filled with the clean, sharp scent of pine. I take a deep, delicious sniff.

  That’s when I remember something we learned in science class. Tar can be made from the sap of a pine tree.

  I smile as I open my eyes. In every direction I look, I see trees. Hundreds of pine trees.

  It’s also a good thing that it’s hot outside. Sap will be oozing from the pines.

  After breakfast I find an empty tuna can in the recycling. The can is perfect for collecting sap. After lunch Jenna and I borrow a knife from the camp kitchen. On our way out I spot a length of old cord. “We’ll need that too,” I tell Jenna.

  Once we are in the pines, we choose a large, healthy-looking tree. I use the knife to pry away a section of bark, then carve out a V shape. “Hand me the can,” I tell Jenna, “and the cord.” Jenna helps me tie the can into position under the V. “Bingo!” I say when the first drop of sap lands in the can.

  “Have you heard the expression A watched pot never boils?” I ask Jenna. “It’s the same for collecting sap. A watched tuna can never fills up. We should do something else while we wait for the sap to collect.” It’s Jenna’s idea to lie in the grass and watch the clouds.

  Later, when we check on the can, there seems to be enough sap to make tar. After all, the hole in the roof isn’t very big. On the way back to Pinecone, we pass the girls from Maple Leaf. They’re making a midmorning treat of s’mores at the fire pit, but Jenna and I are too busy to stop and join in. “Will you smear the sap over the hole?” she asks.

  “First I need to mix in some wax.”

  “How do you know stuff like that?”

  “We learned it in science,” I tell her. Then I add, “At the royal court.”

  There are candles in our bunk—in case the electricity goes out. I break off a chunk of candle and add it to the sap.

  Jenna and I head back to the fire pit where the campers from Maple Leaf are. “Stand back,” I tell Jenna when I place the can on the warm rocks beside the fire.

  I use a twig to stir it.

  “What exactly are you girls up to?” Terry-Anne has come to check on us.

  “I’m showing Jenna how to make tar,” I tell her. “It’s a science experiment.”

  “I’m all for science experiments,” Terry-Anne says. “Just don’t get hurt.”

  “Of course not,” Jenna tells her. “We promise to be careful.”

  After the mixture has cooled, I ask Jenna if she wants to come up the ladder with me.

  “Uh, I don’t think so,” she says. “How about I hold it? To protect Your Royal Highness.”

  “That’s very considerate.”

  I climb back up and use the twig to apply the tar.

  “How did it go?” Jenna asks as I’m coming down the ladder.

  “Perfectly,” I say regally.

  Chapter Five

  “Jelly?” I hear someone call out in the dining hall.

  “Yes?” I raise my hand in the air and look around to see who wants me.

  Every cabin has its own table. Ours is table six. Jenna sits next to me. Amber and Joon are across from us.

  “Jelly?” Amber is laughing. “Is that your nickname? If you ask me, it’s a terrible nickname for a princess. It doesn’t sound very royal.”

  “Jelly?”

  The person calling out jelly is wearing a white apron and a hairnet. He must work in the camp kitchen. He is holding up a jumbo-size jar of red jelly. “Anybody here want jelly on their sandwich?” he asks.

  “I do!” I say. And though I prefer a plain cream-cheese sandwich, I spread a thick layer of jelly on one half of my bagel. “Nickname?” I say to Amber after I have taken a bite and wiped the jelly from the side of my mouth. “What are you talking about?”

  After lunch there is swimming, then kayaking and arts and crafts. Before dinner Terry-Anne sits us down to tell us all about our upcoming overnight kayaking trip. We’ll be paddling twenty miles in total and sleeping overnight in tents.

  After dinner, we sing by the campfire and roast marshmallows.

  Jenna insists on roasting my marshmallows for me. “This one’s nice and toasty,” she says, handing me a stick with a perfectly roasted marshmallow dangling off it.

  “Thank you. It’s delicious.”

  “It’s really an honor to make you a marshmallow.”

  The rain starts up again almost as soon as we are in our pajamas. “You’d better hand me the bucket,” Amber tells Joon.

  “You won’t be needing the bucket anymore,” Jenna tells Amber and Joon. “Princess Angelica fixed the leak. She used pine sap mixed with candle wax.”

  “I’ll take the bucket,” Amber says, shooting me a look. “Just in case.”

  I get the feeling Amber is disappointed when, even after the rain picks up, there isn’t a single drip.

  Nine o’clock is lights-out.

  Joon turns on her flashlight. She is sitting up on her elbows. “Wanna pull an all-nighter?” she asks.

  Jenna has rolled over to face the wall, but now she turns around. “What’s an all-nighter?”

  “It’s when you stay up all night telling stories,” Joon explains.

  Jenna yawns. “What if we’re too tired for activities tomorrow?”

  Joon sighs. “It’s not summer camp if we don’t pull at least one all-nighter. Besides, don’t you want to hear more stories about Princess Angelica’s life at the royal court?”

  I can feel my eyelids getting heavy, but the other girls keep me awake with questions.

  “Do you go to school at the royal court?” Joon asks.

  “I have private tutors for every subject. They are renowned experts in their fields. My English teacher is a published poet. My gym teacher won a gold medal in the Olympics for pole vaulting. My art teacher is the curator of our national museum.”

  Amber drums on the bucket. “Who taught you how to do repairs?” she asks. “Was it the p
ole-vaulting champion?”

  “Of course not. I learned from my… my lady-in-waiting. She’s very handy.”

  “What about your parents, the king and queen? You don’t mention them very much. What are they like?” Jenna asks.

  “Oh, they’re wonderful, of course. But they’re busy running the kingdom and attending parties.”

  “Have you met the Duchess of Cambridge?” Jenna wants to know.

  “You mean my auntie Kate? She comes to all my birthday parties.”

  “Wow,” Jenna says.

  Amber clears her throat. “If you don’t mind my asking, Princess Angelica, what exactly does a princess do?”

  “You mean besides lessons and repairs to the castle?” I wonder if Amber knows I am stalling.

  “I mean…what’s the point in being a princess?” Amber asks.

  Once again Jenna answers for me. “In the modern world,” she says, “royals act like ambassadors. They forge relationships between countries. Princesses have the power to influence other important people. As a princess, Angelica can use her power to help fix our world. It sure needs fixing.”

  “Why, thank you, Jenna,” I say. “I couldn’t have expressed it better. I will do my utmost to live up to that job description.”

  “Glad to be of service, Your Majesty.”

  Chapter Six

  I really like being a princess.

  I like how Jenna roasts all of my marshmallows and Joon insists on making up my cot in the morning. I especially like inventing stories about the royal court.

  I catch myself standing taller than usual and throwing back my shoulders when I speak. I think it’s because I am starting to feel like a princess.

  There’s only one small problem. Visiting day.

  It’s coming up next Sunday. I am afraid my parents will blow my cover.

  So I try writing them a letter.

  Dear Mom and Dad,

  Jenna peers over my shoulder. “Oh, that’s so exciting,” she says. “You’re writing to a king and queen.”

  I cover the sheet with my hand. “If you don’t mind.”

  Jenna bites her lip. “Sorry.”

  Camp is awesome. I get along with all the girls in my cabin. Our roof was leaking and guess who FIXED IT? Mom, I know you warned me not to get carried away with my storytelling, but, well…things have gotten kind of out of hand.

  So if you don’t mind, when you come on visiting day, could you tell my friends that you and Dad are my lady- and gentleman-in-waiting?

  With love, Princess Angelica (aka Jelly)

  I read over what I have written. Then I tear up the paper into small pieces so no one will be able to put it back together.

  Who am I kidding? My mom and dad will never go along with that scheme.

  There is only one solution.

  I am going to have to tell the truth.

  “Is something wrong?” Jenna asks. “Do you have writer’s block?”

  “No,” I say to Jenna. “It’s just that… well…to be honest…”

  I am about to tell Jenna I am not really a royal when the door to our cabin flies open.

  It’s Joon, and she has something feathery in her hands. At first I think it’s a purple bird, but then I realize it’s a pen. A purple feather pen.

  “I just got this in my care package,” she says. “It’s for you, Princess Angelica. My parents sent it. I guess they got excited when I wrote to tell them I was bunking with royalty. Do you like it?”

  “Of course I like it,” I say, taking the pen from Joon and testing it on a fresh sheet of paper. “It’s magnificent. I’ll write to thank them, of course.”

  “Oh,” Joon says, “they’ll be so excited to get a letter from a princess.”

  I nod regally and begin my letter to Joon’s parents. It is easier to write to them than to write to my parents.

  As for telling the other girls the truth, well, that will have to wait for a better time. After all, the girls will be crushed. I don’t want to disappoint them, do I?

  The letter to Joon’s parents practically writes itself. After I have checked my spelling, I draw a royal seal at the bottom of the page. Joon and Jenna watch me. “Usually, the seal would be embossed, which means raised,” I tell them. “But the royal embossing machine was too heavy to pack.”

  “It’s a beautiful seal,” Jenna says. “Do you think you could write a letter to my parents too?”

  Someone knocks at our cabin door. It’s Leonard, the handyman. He brings in a folding cot and sets it up in the corner.

  “Is another girl moving in?” Jenna asks him.

  “Don’t ask me,” Leonard answers. “I just follow the director’s instructions.”

  Terry-Anne turns up next. “There’s a new camper coming to Pinecone,” she tells us. “I hope you’ll make her feel welcome.” Terry-Anne turns to me and gives me a huge smile. “Angelica, you’re going to be thrilled when you see who it is.”

  Terry-Anne pops her head out the cabin door. “Okay,” we hear her say, “you can come in now.”

  The new girl is Maddie.

  Under any other circumstances, I would be thrilled.

  “Jelly!” Maddie throws her arms around me. “Grandmaman had a change of plans, so my parents signed me up for camp!”

  “Jelly?” Amber says. “Did she just call you Jelly?”

  Amber marches up to Maddie and taps her shoulder. “I take it,” she says, “you know Princess Angelica.”

  I squeeze Maddie’s hand and give her a look. I hope this will send the message that I need her to play along.

  Maddie does not get the message.

  “What? Princess Angelica?” she says. “Princess Angelica?” she says again.

  Then Maddie shakes her head and turns to look at me. “Let me guess, Jelly. You’ve been inventing stories again!”

  Chapter Seven

  There are two double kayaks and one single kayak. Because there are five of us, and Maddie is new, I figure she will use the single kayak. But that’s not what happens.

  Amber and Joon claim the yellow double kayak.

  Jenna turns to Maddie. “Do you want to share the red one?” she asks her.

  “What about me?” I ask, but Jenna ignores me.

  That leaves me with the single kayak.

  “Look how fast the clouds are moving with the wind,” I say to Amber and Joon when I paddle up to them.

  Amber and Joon exchange a look but do not say a word. That’s when I confirm that Amber, Joon and Jenna are not talking to me.

  Maddie waves from the bow of the red kayak. I decide to ignore her. This is all her fault! If she had just gone along with my story, none of this would have happened!

  Terry-Anne is in a single kayak too. She paddles at the back of our pack so she can keep an eye on us.

  Up ahead, a loon swoops down on the water. “D’you see the loon?” I call out to the others. Terry-Anne is the only one who says she saw it.

  I try not to think about the fact that my friends are angry with me. Instead, I make myself concentrate on the cloudy sky and the soothing sound my paddle makes as I dip it in and out of the water.

  “You doing okay on your own?” Terry-Anne has paddled her kayak up to mine.

  “I’d rather be by myself,” I tell her. I wonder if she knows I am lying?

  “Amber told me what happened—that you invented some story about being a princess,” Terry-Anne says.

  I can feel my ears get hot under my sun hat. “I like making up stories.” It’s all I can think of saying.

  “There’s nothing wrong with telling stories,” Terry-Anne says. “But it isn’t right to deceive your friends.”

  My ears get even hotter. “When do you think they’ll start talking to me again?”

  Terry-Anne rests her paddle and lets her kayak drift. “Hard to say. Apologizing would probably be a wise first move.”

  The two of us drift together in silence. In my head, I practice apologizing to my friends. I’m sorry for decei
ving you. But I get a little carried away when I’m inventing stories.

  I suddenly remember something my dad once told me. It’s inadvisable, he said, to use the word but in an apology. It’s better to own up to your mistake. To take responsibility for whatever you’ve done wrong.

  So when we drag our kayaks up onto the rocky beach where we are stopping for lunch, I decide to get this apologizing business over with.

  “I’m sorry for deceiving you,” I say to Jenna, Joon and Amber. “Also, I’m not angry with you anymore,” I tell Maddie.

  Amber crosses her arms over her chest. “You don’t sound very sorry.”

  “I am. Very sorry.” I stop myself from adding the but part.

  Terry-Anne is laying out a checkered cloth on the rocks, but I know she is listening. “It’s considered good manners to accept an apology,” she tells Amber.

  “Fine then! We accept it—Jelly.”

  Something tells me they have not completely forgiven me, but at least they are talking to me again.

  I help Terry-Anne unpack the sandwiches from one of the dry bags. There are five cheese and tomato and one with egg salad. The chef must have run out of tomatoes.

  “Who wants the egg salad sandwich?” Terry-Anne asks.

  “Not me!” Joon says. “That sandwich smells like farts.”

  When no one else offers to take the smelly sandwich, I say I will. I hope the others will appreciate my gesture.

  Over lunch, Terry-Anne explains that we need to paddle five more miles this afternoon to reach our destination, a place called Trout Island. We will have to paddle hard, since the wind is picking up and we want to get there before dark.

  I wonder if one of the other girls will offer to take the single kayak and let me ride in a double, but no one does. That’s how I know for sure that I haven’t been completely forgiven for pretending to be a princess.

  Back in our kayaks, Amber and Joon lead the way, and Jenna and Maddie follow close behind. I feel a little lonely when I hear Amber and Joon singing and Jenna and Maddie telling jokes.

  I have to paddle extra hard to keep up with them.