Camp Timberline [closed]

[Sexual_Muse]

Freya “Fry” Torres
18 years old
5’6 in height and hoping to get taller but unlikely as her mom tops out at 5’3 and her father not much taller at 5’7. A late bloomer but her body quickly filled out, as if in apology, with womanly curves with the perfect hourglass figure, which Freya hid under ‘tomboyish’ clothes having not quite adjusted to her curvy development. Long dark chocolate brown hair with normally worn in a high ponytail, when it is worn down there is a pretty layered cut that pairs well with the natural wave in her hair. Striking forest green eyes fringed with long thick lashes. Light olive tan skin with an adorable dash of freckles over the height of her sharp cheek bones and over the bridge of her small slightly upturned nose. Pale pink bow like lips that hint at a touch of gloss or lipstick but it completely natural and always seem to have the tiniest of pout to them.

The first time Freya had fallen in love she was ten years old. Camp Timberline was her summer home away from home but the simple addition of their newest counselor in training (C.i.T.) changed all that. From a ten year old’s point of view it was as if he walked out of a dream. For the first week or two Fry stayed away unsure of how to handle herself around someone who she felt so out of sorts around but his friendly smile and contagious laugh drew her. And his voice! The first time he spoke to her, asking if she was okay after tripping down some stairs, all deep and soothing did it for her. She was a child in love and it only was set into stone when he pulled out a guitar one night and strummed a popular tune and sang along. But she was one of many, plus she was but a child and she was sure she just faded into the background, no matter how many playful bouts of trouble she started.

When Fry was fourteen tragedy struck. Her father was promoted and they were moved across the world, okay only the country, and the days of her fantasy summer life was cut short.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“I still don’t get it.” Troy sighed running a hand through her long tawny hair. “Why would you leave L.A. to come back here?”

Freya shrugged not giving her older sister an answer as she chucked her canvas duffle bag into the back of her well-worn, recently gifted hunter green Ford Bronco. “Thanks again for the car, really the best gift ever!” She beamed genuinely ecstatic about her belated birthday gift.

Troy smiled and gave the Bronc’ a good pat. “Well you can’t get around here with just a bus pass. And that’s still not an answer Fry.”

Knowing that she couldn’t dodge the question any longer Freya sighed and swung the spare tire rack over and dropped the tailgate. “Why haven’t you left?” She questioned instead taking a seat first.

“Because it’s home and we’re happy here.” Troy answered looking back at their childhood home. “Plus Autumn has a good job that she loves.” She defended.

Troy or Victoria if you were looking to get punched, was eleven years older than Freya so when they moved right before her high school year Troy stayed behind with her girlfriend and moved into the family home. “Its home for me too.”

“Yeah but you got to live in a big lively city, there are so many more opportunities for you there.”

Freya made and face and crinkled her nose. “Yeah and how much did you like it the ONE time you visited?” She brought up talking about their first Christmas in L.A. and how just the five days in the ‘lively’ city had Troy crawling out of her skin.

“Okay, okay…” Troy relented throwing her hands up in the air. “I just don’t want you to get stuck in this town, you’re too smart for that. Too much to give the world.” She sighed taking a seat next to her little sister.

As Troy wrapped her arm around Freya and she leaned into the hug. “Yeah because that doesn’t put a lot of pressure on me or anything.” She chuckled. “And we’ve all agreed.” Freya brought up again. “Timber Ridge University is a great college and it’s large enough to get the full “college experience” without the dangers of a large city and I’m only two hours from you. One and a half if you let me take your motorcycle.” She smiled still angling for a situation where she could have a ‘cycle of her own. Both her parents and Troy had been against the idea. As much as Freya loved her big sister she couldn’t explain to her that all she wanted from life was to be out in nature and that being a Park Ranger gave her something to protect and preserve for those yet to come.

“But you could have gone to Brown.” Troy shook her head still puzzled by Freya’s dismissal of it. “Been a lawyer or something like that.” She sighed.

“And float those student loans, please. Plus I have a full ride with TRU for the next four years, possibly more.”

“Yeah there is that…” Troy agreed with a shake of her head. “You know it was nice having you back at the house. I mean I was just getting used to not having any hot water between you and Autumn.”

“It was only two weeks, you’ll recover.”

Troy laughed as Autumn made an appearance. “What are you two up to?”

“Oh you know the norm.” Troy smiled sliding from the tailgate to Autumn’s side. “So?”

Autumn nodded and all at once she skipped back up the stairs to the porch leaving Freya confused and about to follow.

“Just you wait!” Called Autumn as they she came back down the stairs hiding something behind her back. “I couldn’t let Troy be the only one who got you something for your birthday. And I was worried it was going to get here too late.” Blushed her sister’s girlfriend.

Freya just tilted her head to the side like a confused puppy. “I don’t-“ She began to say when her jaw dropped. “A new guitar?!?!” She squealed leaping from the tailgate. For a while now she had been in desperate need to replace her old guitar but whenever it came down to getting a new one she always backed out of it for no other reason than loyalty to her first guitar. “Ohhh, a Martin.” Freya cooed. “It’s so tiny and cute.” She giggled getting a feel for the balance.

“I was told it was for traveling and campfires.” Smiled Autumn loving the look of pure joy that Freya showed as she strummed a few chords. “And it comes with a bag.” She added unsure if Fry had even heard her as she let a note hang in the air with her eyes closed.

“Autumn …” Freya sighed a huge smile on her face. “It’s perfect. Thank you.” Gently she placed her unnamed guitar on the tailgate and hugged Autumn fiercely.

“You’re welcome.”

For the next hour Freya played for Troy and Autumn, only a little embarrassed about playing in front of someone but too happy to deny them.

“It’s almost nine!” Shouted Troy when she stood up to refresh everyone’s drinks.

Freya nearly spit up her tea as she leapt from the couch. “What!?!” They had to be there at noon for orientation and it was over an hour’s drive to Camp Timberline and she still have more things to load up into the Bronc’.

“Is everything packed?” Fretted Autumn gathering up a bag with towels, a pillow and Mr Cuddles, her green lockness monster stuffed animal.

“Ahh, umm…” Freya started to answer.

“If not you can pick it up on the weekend.” Troy said over her rushing her out of the house.

With goodbyes quickly shared Freya started on her way back to Camp Timberline. For a while her heart raced with worry she was going to be late but once her tank was filled with gas and the roads were nearly empty her heart started to race with another worry. Would he be there? What if he wasn’t? Even worse, what if he was... A million different scenarios played out in her head until she was a jumble of nerves almost sick with girlish panic. Then all too soon the old wooden sign for Camp Timberline came into view. “Welcome to Camp Timberline where I’m just a ten year old girl all over again…” Freya muttered under hear breath as she turned and passed under the sign and onto a gravel road only twenty five minutes early.

Because in face of blunt honestly a large part of why she came back home for the weekend was to become a C.i.T. at camp Timberline and see him again. Pathetic she knew but she had never quite gotten him out of her mind and if nothing else she wanted a chance to say goodbye on her terms if her memory was nothing but an overly fantasized dream.

 

[Zelanian]

Camp Timberline [closed] - Marshall Taylor Bio

Marshall Taylor is 26, a smidge under 6’, but who’s measuring? - with messy blonde hair that doesn’t bleach nearly white any more as it did when he was a kid … He never does weights so he’s lean but not cut, and since he burns instead of tans is never seen without a shirt on.

https://drive.google.com/open?id=0BxuxoGFBgysqUDBUV1hlMS1lODQ

Marshall finished college at UA with a major in seismology; he has walked many of the national parks out West on field trips looking for old rocks. It was Arizona instead of an Ivy League place in the East because his grandparents lived in Arizona and board was free… And easier to get into.

While still at high school in his home town of Brattleboro, he’d been fortunate to have the time of his life for several weeks every year at a camp his uncle had some connection with, a place called Timberline. And then the last summer after school he took a role as a C I T in the camp before heading to Arizona.

Naturally enough, Marshall had girlfriends while at uni; while working in SF for a couple of years he’d thought Josephine, a fellow geologist, might become permanent. But no. And then his surveying contract finished and he’d gone back East to help his Mom with the family Bed’n’Breakfast business while his father recovered from an accident.

A year and a bit later, his Dad was back on the roof replacing another piece of the historic homestead, and Marshall was itching for another work opportunity back in earthquake country. But school was out too; the maples were in full leaf and the Connecticut river sparkled and burbled its summer song. It was camp time and Marshall grinned as he packed. He wasn’t going to miss another few weeks of camaraderie you couldn’t get anywhere else.

“Sure Marsh. Come for the whole summer. We’ll give you a C I T to show the ropes to, and you can do the kayaking too, if you want …”

Marshall's camp memories weren't merely ones about the friends he’d met and fun he’d had while growing up. While at college he'd done three seasons as a counselor before moving to San Francisco.

Scenes from those years as a counselor replayed in mind every now and then, too, reminding him how good the leadership life was at Timberline. Hugs from memorable kids. Like that freckle-faced girl who seemed to be always there, even though she was never in his group, and who loved singing … had she returned every year while he was at college? He couldn't recall. Marshall paused in his packing and smiled through the window as he pictured her.

He wondered what she’d be doing this summer, and if she'd finished school.

 

[Zelanian]

"I'll see you later." Marshall raised a hand in a half-wave as Kent Ward, the camp director, left after explaining a couple of things about the orientation. He dropped his pack in a pool of sunlight and lifted his guitar to a high shelf for safety. The room would be baking hot in August, today the bunkhouse's thin curtains flapped as a cooling breeze brought in the smell of fresh-cut grass.

He breathed in the scent of camp. The room was newly swept, silent except for a distant mower’s clatter as it passed every few minutes, bare of dust and last year’s memories, ready to be filled, in just a few hours, with the overlapping chatter, laughter and excess clothes a dozen eager lads would bring at their mother’s behest.

Marshall lay back on the bunk he had picked, making sure the mattress had nothing nasty poking out. Through the adjacent window was the deck that ran between his room and the adjoining one, where his C I T would sleep with another dozen campers. Beyond that, the showers. Same old familiar place. He grinned, and sat up, checking his runners were tied tight. He had time for a walk around; he could renew his acquaintance with the trail and the river pool.

He checked his watch. His phone lay in the pack, switched off. Best get used to it, he reminded himself. Marshall scratched his head and replaced the battered Arizona U cap he’d brought. He thought he might donate it to a kid at the end of camp.

The door handle was a bit loose. He pulled the door shut and jumped lightly off the unrailed deck. He had a couple of hours to wander before orientation at noon.

 

[Sexual_Muse]

OOC: inspirational camp layout

Camp Timberline was nestled in a shallow valley between two rolling hills. When you turned onto the gravel road to the left there was a large parking lot where parents could pick up and drop off their children, pass that the glimmer of a quiet stream. Continuing on the road you pass a gate with a small cabin off to the right side, an old bunk house that once been used for ‘security’. Which was really mostly used for storing lawn equipment more than anything else. Further on you get your first glimpse of the lower lake, stocked with fish and sparkling blue and an island. The road forks, one road heading west and the other to the east to wrap around in a large circle. To the west the road turns into a bridge as it runs over the small river that connects the two lakes together. Around the western most curve is the pool on the outer side of the road with its water slides and hot tubs. The eastern road take a wide turn around a thicket of tree. Around another bend the trees start to thin out and a football field dominates the open field, over the metal bleachers you can see the locker rooms for the pool area before the road sweeps out again past tennis and volleyball courts.

Within that paved circle is yet another lake, this one equipped with a dock, the ‘blob’ and over head the ziplines. As the roads on either side round out there is an outline of four cabins on either side with a large dining hall in the middle right below where the east and western roads meet up once again. Between the dining hall and the lake is a large field with a bonfire pit and flag with a scattering of trees and benches and tables.

Along the paved road there are a number of dirt roads that lead off into many directions. One lead to the meadows where the horses were kept, another to the hiking trails and some to different rope courses. Staff housing and the Ward’s house are another set of roads while some just lead to grassy lots and hilltop views or storage buildings and tucked away garages and parking spaces.

Having never been to camp as a C.i.T. Freya wasn’t sure where to park so she parked under a tree in the drop off and pick up lot and trekked it up the road. She could come back later for her things when she knew where she was supposed to park.

“Fry?”

She knew that voice from years of summer camp and turned around with a smile on her face. “Camp Mama Nina!” Nina Ward and her husband Kent ran Camp Timberline, in fact the land that butted up against the national forest had been in Nina’s family for generations but only in the last 80 something years had it been a summer camp. “I’ve missed you.” Freya sighed as she received a warm hug from the older woman who sprang from the gator with agile grace.

“I saw your name on the list this year and I was just tickled to pieces.”

Camp Mama Nina as Freya liked to call her hadn’t aged at all from the last time she had seen the older woman who was somewhere in her mid-fifties if she was remembering correctly. Nina laughed at she was part Valkyrie and at 5’11 with spun gold for hair and lightening blue eyes it was easy to see the woman with a blazing sword in hand and a set of wings but despite how intimating she looked, she was a gentle soul with a kind heart. What was funniest about Nina had nothing really to do with her but the pairing of her and her husband who was maybe 5’8 on a good day. Where Nina was golden and sunny, Kent’s Moroccan features with his dark olive skin, dark brown eyes and black hair. But apart from outer looks the two were the same soul.

“Just look at how you’ve grown.” Nina praised spinning Fry around in a circle. “Kent’s finishing up the mowing so I could use your help setting up.” Nina looked out into the parking lot a spotted a lone car. “Why are you parked down here and where are all your things?”

“Oh well…” Freya chuckled playing with her ponytail. “I wasn’t sure-“ Was all she got out before Nina was waving her off.

“Follow me and then I’m putting you to work.”

“Why isn’t anyone else helping you?” Freya laughed over her shoulder as she made her way back to the Bronc’.

“Because you’re the first one here.”

Helping wasn’t too hard. Nina had her setting things up at the dining hall. Snacks, drinks and fun little icebreaker games so that everyone could get to know each other before the campers got here on Monday. It gave them the weekend to settle in and make friendships but would also give those new to the role a chance to ‘learn the ropes’. From there she set up the dry wood for a huge bonfire.

It wasn’t until Freya had finished her list of tasks did Nina let her know that the meeting time had been moved up to two.

“Thanks for all the help Fry.”

Freya dusted her hand off on her jean cut off shorts and stood up. “Did I really have a choice?” She joked hoping that the light green top she had one wasn’t all sweaty and dirty. “Oh even if I had I’ve wound up helping anyways.” Freya sighed.

Nina laughed at the look on Freya’s face. “Come on, nearly everyone is here.” The older woman smiled draping an arm around Fry’s shoulder, dragging her to the dining hall.

 

[Zelanian]

Having wandered as far down towards the main gate as the ropes course, and circited the bigger (lower) pond, Marshall retraced his way back towards the accomodation, noticing that the tennis courts seemed to had a nice makeover in the recent past. A sprawl of kayaks lay jumbled on the grass by the jetty; there seemed to be some new ones in the heap.

People were arriving; a few vehicles had disturbed the quiet as they circled the roads, and he realised time had gone very quickly, so cut across the field, heading for the dining hall. However, as he passed the summer office entrance, Kent Ward stepped out onto the planking, white grin gleaming from his dark face.

“Nina’s put the meeting off until two,” he called, and then looked away as someone hailed him from the next building. “I’ll see you later, Marsh,” he added, in his warm tone, and stepped down onto the grass.

Marshall paused a moment, hands on hips. So be it. He decided to fetch his guitar and find a spot to strum away another couple of hours.

The climbig tower was much as he remembered it; a lower platform, some ladders and ropes and a third, much higher ‘crows nest’ platform many meters in the air so even teenagers could challenge and scare themselves. But he didn’t climb beyond the first level; he settled back against the railing and looked out to the north towards the meadow.

Playing guitar was an interest he’d caught from his mom; he hadn’t taken it nearly seriously enough to get any advanced skills, but nevertheless he loved playing, and had made several friends at college who’d shared his passion. The sun crept overhead as minutes passed in a flurry of notes; soon enough it was time to stretch, return his guitar to the bunk house and and get to the dining hall.

He wondered if how many of the counselors would be returners, like him; would any of them recall him?

 

[Sexual_Muse]

Freya followed Nina into the dining hall where a popup stage had been set up against the far wall and took a seat at one of the six person tables off to the side, near the front.

“Thank you everyone, sorry for the hold up for those of you that arrived at noon but with the accident on Route 42 I wanted to give everyone time to arrive safely. That being said,” She smiled as Kent joined her on stage. “Thank you~” They said together in perfect harmony.

In comparison to other camps Timberline was fairly small as far as camper capacity went. There were eight cabins all of which had been recently been updated with honey toned real wood paneling and built in bunks. Gone were the rickety bunk beds and dark cabins with low ceilings. The new cabins had space for 20 bunks, ten on each side, 18 of which were for campers and the other two for counselors or in the very least a counselor and a counselor-in-training and a bathroom with multiple toilets, sinks and showers. Also updated with more stalls, lighting and continuing in wood style.

During the day the cabin groups were split into smaller groups of about a dozen campers to a counselors, if the counselors was lucky they were assigned a C.i.T.. This year there were only 4 C.i.T. to the twelve counselors, which worked out perfectly as Timberline was booked with campers and couldn’t double up C.i.T.s like in years prior. Meaning that the CiTs would be drifted between counselors when and where they would needed. It was both stressful and exciting because day would be a new.

Nina and Kent warmly introduced themselves and touched upon the camp’s history and their place in it before moving on to the staff. Steven aka ‘Doc’ looked like a brainless jarhead, body corded with muscles, tall with his haircut high and tight graying around his temples with gray blue eyes and a halfcocked smile. He was the first to stand up and waved hello to some of the regulars before talking about himself. He served with the Navy and was a medic with them for over ten years before he got out and moved into pediatric sports medicine, using the summer as a means to recharge his batteries and have some fun. Pedro and his twin sister Rosa were in their late thirties but giggled and joked around like they were still teenagers. Together they ran the dining hall and camp store. And believe it or not but Rosa was the boss of the two of them even though she was deaf assisted, having gotten the cochlear implant only three years ago.

“Now it’s your turn.” Kent clapped as everyone in the room took a turn at standing and introducing themselves. It was a fairly painless first icebreaker until she saw him.

Marshall Taylor.

Could you swoon sitting down? Freya wasn’t sure but she felt as if she did when he stood up. Eleven people ago she had introduced herself, how had she missed him? Because she wasn’t looking about the room as other’s talk because that was rude she defended herself as she blushed and looked away.

With such a small group of sixteen, the icebreakers went quickly and before long the Wards were bringing out the buckets of fate.

“For those of you who have been here before as counselors knows how this works. In this bucket here we have the name of all the female counselors and CiTs and in this one the boys.” They smiled holding up matching tin pails. “Everyone pick a name and that’ll be who you’ll bunk with for the summer.”

“May the odd be ever in your favor.” Nina cackled moving down the group and pausing at each girl as Kent did the same.

“Now find your roomie.”

Freya looked at her slip of handwritten paper. “Crystal.” She smiled remembering the hippy looking red head with braids and curls. Oddly enough despite her outwardly appearance she was in her third year of law at Berkeley. Before she could locate her newest friend Crystal had already found her.

“Next the cabins.” All the cabins were given names for the summer picked by the campers and counselors and after dinner during the evenings they became like teams where they completed against the other cabins in games and quests.

“You pick.” Crystal insisted.

“No, you.” Freya argued. At an impasse they decided that a game of rock-paper-scissors would make the winner pick from the pail. Freya won and when she drew the number four. Not that one cabin was better than the others. They were all built in mirror images of each other.

The last pick was for night duty. Each night one male and one female would pair together two times a night, once in at lights out and the other before the camp woke up and walk the camp grounds checking in at certain spots to make sure everything was okay and no one was trespassing.

Nina gathered all the names in the buckets and stopped at Freya. “Newbie gets the honor of picking.”

Freya wanted to look over at Marshall but as she had for the entire afternoon she tried to play it cool and look disinterested. “Here goes nothing.” She whispered to herself closing her eyes and reaching into the bucket for a slip of paper. As much as she willed her hand to be steady, it shook as she withdrew the folded paper. Slowly she opened it and read the name out loud. “Marshall-“ Her voice cracked and she felt her cheek flame. Freya didn’t know what to feel, was she happy to get to spend that time alone with Marshall or would it be like a nightmare where all he would see was a little girl even with all the growing she had done over the years.

For the first time that day Freya looked over at Marshall and made eye contact feeling as if her heart was going to burst out of her chest. All other sounds faded, the other counselors picking their night guard teammate, the radio playing in the background, even the shrill laughter of Crystal didn’t faze her as her mind excited worked up a plan where she would get his attention one way or another.

 

[Zelanian]

Marshall pulled off the sunnies as he stepped through the wide double doors. Chatter, laughter. Chairs scraping. He found a chair at the end of one of the tables and looked around. The counselor group seemed smaller than he remembered.

He listened to the welcome from Nina and Kent and lifted his left hand briefly in acknowledgement as Steven the ‘Doc’ stood up from his seat a couple of chairs away and started the round of introductions.

Then it was Pedro’s turn, and he got a few words out before sister Nina jumped in. Pedro shrugged and dropped into the vacant chair at Marshall’s end of the table, clasping his hand quckly with a broad smile.

“Welcome back, Eagle.”

Marshall grinned. “I haven’t heard that label for a while.” He looked up as Nina’s voice paused and she turned to them with a frown. “Okay, okay, we’ll be quiet.”

Pedro winked.”You know Nina. Still the same, man,” he whispered.

Some of the others were standing now in turn, saying hello, and breaking the ice. Looked like a good bunch. But Marshall didn’t pay much attention. He was looking around at the redecoration. Someone had put up more paneling and the smell of fresh varnish was still strong.

“Marshall?”

Marshall whipped his head around to the front again. “My turn? Right.” He stood, glancing toward the watching faces as he spoke.

“I’m Marshall. I first came here as a kid, and returned most years, and then did the counselor thing until I finished college. I’ve been out in Cali for a couple of years, so this is my first year back for a bit - and I see the place has been spruced up very nicely.” He paused.”I think I remember a couple of faces, but I look forward to knowing you all soon, and sharing a great experience with a bunch of fabulous kids.”

There was a group of four young women sitting at the next table; one was a a striking redhead covered in curls. He’d have to go introduce himself after the meeting. But then Kent was in his face with a bucket of choices.

“I know you put your stuff in cabin five … but now you get to find out where you’ll really be.”

Marshall laughed. “I’d forgotten about the lottery.” He felt into the small bucket for one of the paper scraps. Mitchell was the name written on it, and he held it up, and called it out.

His roomie was wiry, dark-skinned, with short-cropped hair. They high-fived, and Mitchell grabbed a cabin number.

“We got number one,” he announced.

Marshall nodded and looked over at the girls grouped around Nina. They were drawing partners for night patrol. He wondered who he’d get. Not a maths major who wanted to talk about calculus for an hour while they walked, hopefully. And the group was breaking away, choices made.

One of them was looking straight towards him, seemingly wondering if she should cross the twenty feet of floor. Marshall stood up slowly as their eyes met. Lovely face, long pigtail. There was definitely something familiar about her. Perhaps she'd been a counselor in his last year. Marshall stepped closer as her gaze seemed frozen to his. Perhaps she hadn't been a counselor. She looked awfully like Freya Torres.

A memory flashed into mind, then another. A rippling giggle and a face full of freckles, which she still had!

Marshall’s grin widened as he stopped a few feet from her. “You’re Fry, aren’t you? But not so little any more!”

 

[Sexual_Muse]

The nickname had been given to her by her sister as despite all the teasing that people had tried to throw at her because of it, she liked it and smiled at the sound of it. “The only person who calls me Fry anymore is my sister.” Freya smiled ducking her head down to her chest. “Glad to see you remember me even after all these years.” She blushed feeling nerves and excitement course through her body.

“Now that we have out night guard pairs I’ll hand each of you one of these. Each map is different but all of them are equally challenging.” Nina promised handing out folded full sheets of paper and a compass.

Kent joined his wife’s side with a smile as wide. “It’s a scavenger map with clues to the next spot, so on and so on.” He explained. “All the maps have twelve labors that need to be completed. The first team back wins a prize and first pick at group colors because this year night groups will also be day group pairs. So get to know each other now because you will be spending a lot of time together.”

“And GO!” Nina shouted as teams ran from the dining hall at a sprint.

Freya didn’t move, instead she opened the piece of paper and read it out loud.

“I get hot but I never sweat
I have a door but you don’t go through me
I can sometimes clean myself but I’m not a person
I can be gas or electric but I’m not a car.”​

Doc who was listening in smiled and patted Freya on the shoulder as he left the room. “You guys got a hard one.” He laughed.

“Do you have any idea?” Freya asked Marshall looked back at him with a frown.

 

[Zelanian]

CAmp Timberline [Closed]

Marshall listened to the instructions as he watched Freya blush, and his grin lasted awhile. He realised she not only remembered him, but was self-conscious about it. And she was his partner for the summer, for the day turn as well, it seemed. Things were going to get interesting. Freya had a nice figure now, her legs below the cut-offs long and slim and muscular.

He looked down at the intense expression that was forming as she read the puzzle, and tried to recall how competitive she’d been as a camper. Surely it wouldn’t be too hard to run away with a treasure hunt? Worth a shot to try. They could start the season off with bragging rights.

“Well,” he answered.”Hot and possibly gas, though maybe electric, with a door that isn’t for people and might self clean … what say we take a look at the ovens in the kitchen, as a starter? Failing that, there’s the rubbish incinerator - if it’s still in operation. But the image of a self cleaning oven is my first guess. And there’s probably one here. That would seem to fit the clue.”

Marshall waited to hear what Freya thought of his suggestion. The others had all hared off already, and only Kent and Nina remained, collecting discarded scraps of paper from the floor.

 

[Sexual_Muse]

“What?” Freya asked confused too deep in thought. “Ovens…” It couldn’t be that simple could it? She had been over thinking it grasping at straws and hidden figurative meanings. “That…” She ran over the clues and nodded her head. “Makes sense.” She admitted with an embarrassed grin. “To the kitchen it is.” Not that Freya was competitive but, okay that was a lie she was ultra competitive and feeling that they were already behind had Freya skipping off towards the kitchen.

Pedro and Rosa kept a tidy kitchen, clean enough to eat off the floors even but Freya’s focus was on the cooking appliances. It looked like the cabins weren’t the only thing to get a makeover. Shiny stainless steel glittered where there used to be yellowed ancient ovens and fridges. “Whoa. Rosa must be in heaven.” Whistled Freya opening the oven and reaching in pulling out a thick piece of paper with nothing written on it.

“What the heck?” Freya frowned flipping the paper back and forth looking for something, anything and finding nothing. “You have any idea?” She asked handing the blank sheet to Marshall. Freya looked around the kitchen looking for some other clue. There was another oven and Freya opened it and pulled out a lemon. Surely that was another clue because Rosa wasn’t the sort to just leave things around and out of place. “A lemon?” Freya was trying to piece it together but her mind was drawing a blank. Was she over thinking this again?

Freya looked at Marshall with a shy smile. “I’m normally better at these kind of things.” She chuckled as she chewed on her thumb nail out of nerves. Being with Marshall was making Freya jittery, a little kid again all butterflies and goofy giggles. So much for making a grand impression, sure to sweep him off his feet and show him just how she had grown up. Apparently she had some more growing to do. She sighed to herself annoyed that she couldn’t pull off cool better then she was, or rather, was not.

 

[Zelanian]

Marshall took the paper; it was a thick piece of letter-size drawing paper with nothing on it, blank as if it had just been ripped from an artist’s pad. Did he have any idea?

“Well, he hesitated, captivated more by the wrinkles on her brow and the determined set to her lips than the mystery of a blank sheet.

Marsh looked down at the paper again, flipped it over and shrugged, and laid it on the stainless steel counter next to the gas hobs, as Freya gave a nervous giggle and put the lemon next to it. “You’re good at puzzles?” he laughed. “I hope so. We don’t want to be last. So think, Fry. What can you do with a lemon and paper?"

He lifted the lemon, and turned it and passed it from hand to hand. Nothing unusual about it. Just a lemon. He looked around the spotless kitchen; there was nothing else on show. Everything was tied down and stowed away. Not even any post-its on the obviously new whiteboard.

He turned back to the girl, his eyes straying to her chest for a moment.

“We’ll have to make our own message since there doesn’t seem to be one … wait a minute, Fry!" All at once he grew animated, flicked the hair from his eyes with a quick shake of his head and looked straight at her.

"Maybe there is a message on this paper after all.” Marshall picked up the paper again. “How many times did you come to camp? Didn’t you ever do secret writing - with lemon juice? I remember doing it most summers. Let’s heat this paper up and see if there is anything on it.

After turning one of the hob controls to low, he pushed the starter.

With a whoosh, the gas ignited and a low yellow/blue flame pulsed and flickered. He held the paper by its edges and lowered it over the rising heat. Heat rose to the paper and spread out, heating his fingers which got hot very quickly, but before it was unbearable, the paper changed color and letters appeared.

“Yes!” Marshall grinned as Freya’s eyes were drawn, like his, to the emerging message. Soon it was all legible and he turned off the gas, reading the words that had emerged:

Your high is in grass, but isn’t from weed,
Step if you dare, stage lines await.
The boldest will soon master fate.​

He dropped the paper back onto the counter and stared at it.

“Weed, huh? I came across plenty of that in San Fran. But it wasn’t my thing. You ever tried it? And do you have any idea what this clue means?

Marshall picked up the folded map Freya had carried into the kitchen and spread it out. On one side of it, under a heading of ‘TASKS’, was a list of twelve items.

He scanned it, as he pulled out a blue pen from his pants. “I think we just did that number 5, do you agree?”He glanced at her, looking for agreement. He read the fifth task: “Read the Hot Message.” He put a small tick next to it.

“There was only one paper in the oven, right? I think everyone has a different list. Ok… so, any ideas about these stage lines, Freya?”

Marshall was pleased he’d got Fry for a partner. She’d been a fun kid in the past. Now… well. He wondered how old she was. Night patrol was going to be great, especially if the kids all stayed asleep and they could just wander.

 

[Sexual_Muse]

“On any given day but today it seems.” Freya blushed giving an excuse to her slowwitted help with the clues. She really wanted to help with the treasure map but her mind was too busy buzzing with the excitement that Marshall was still here and he was her partner for night duty AND day groups. She wanted so badly to just play it cool but she had dreamed of the day when she could stand in front of him as a woman and have him see her as such. Yet here she was fiddling with the guitar pick necklace she always wore. It had been his at one time, not that she stole it but he had dropped it and she hadn’t given it back when she found it.

“What?” The way he flicked his hair out of his eyes, the smile on his face and the way his eyes met hers. It left her all but braindead. “Forever?” She mumble clueless and all the more embarrassed. “Yeah, I remember!” Freya caught on growing in excitement to match his. “Of course!” With the introduction of the flame letters slowly then quickly emerged from the paper like dancers on snow.

Freya shook her head and wrinkled her nose. “Wasn’t something I’ve ever been tempted by. What I wanted… Well…” She blushed again looking away changing the topic before she said more than she wanted to. “Your high is in grass, but isn’t from weed...” Freya tried simpler train of thoughts. “The ropes course is high but I don’t know what grass or weed has to do with it.” She sighed fiddling with the pick as she nibbled on her bottom lip. “Step if you dare, stage lines await. Again I think high ropes but then again it would be the stage in the theater.” Freya mumbled more to herself then for Marshall’s sake. “And with the boldest mastering their fate I’m torn between the high ropes course or the theater.”

She was starting to get frustrated. Freya wanted to impress Marshall but she was coming up short. “It seems this maps had made a liar out of me.” She frowned spinning the paper on the smooth flat surface of the counter. “I’m not much help.” She frowned. “Your thoughts?” Freya asked pathetically wanting nothing more than for this moment to pass or to be off somewhere with her guitar.

 

[Zelanian]

“Say again? What did you want?”

Had he missed something while thinking about the puzzle?

Marshall scratched his chin. On a whim, the day before camp, he’d decided the beard he’d grown in Cali had had its day. Too itchy to keep over summer. But the clean-shaven feeling was strange.

He glanced to his left at Freya. She was a distraction to his thoughts, standing right at his left elbow, all curves and … blushing? Well. Marshall hid most of his smile.

Marsh tapped the first line of the message once she'd stopped spinning the paper. “Ropes could be right. The course is on the far edge of the lower field - so we have to go into the grass to get there. And did you ever see weed growing on Kent’s Fields?”

He read the next, mimicking Fry. “I think your first guess was right. ‘Step if you dare, stage lines await.’ A stage is a platform, right? And there are platforms at each end of the high rope lines.” He emphasized the word. Of course, if there is a note up there, that will have lines too.”

There was something about her long hair. He wanted to grab the end and tickle her face with it.

“Shall we climb the ladder to the ropes and check it out? Nice view from up there, anyhow, and we won't have to watch for kids doing dumb stuff. Well, Fry?" Her shoulders appeared a little slumped; she seemed pensive.

"You want to win this, don’t-cha? Where’s feisty Fry who wouldn’t give up on the kayaks even though she kept rolling over and getting soaked? I remember!”

Without thinking, Marshall touched her nose lightly. “Don’t frown, Small Fry. You have a lovely smile. Now go! Ropes Course! You have a five second start!” Marshall shot a look towards the gas to check it was really out, grabbed the secret message and map and folded them, tucking them into his back pocket.

He’d better watch it, he told himself. Could so easily give her a big hug and that might ruin the whole summer.

 

[Sexual_Muse]

Freya blushed and looked up for a moment catching Marshall’s eyes. There was no way she could tell him that she had only ever been tempted by him and the idea and memory of him. “Something once again possible.” She smiled in half answer.

Nodding along with Marshall’s train of thought Freya lectured herself, ordered herself to get a grip on the whole girlish prattles and just be herself. To put her mind to the task and to stop worrying about Marshall what he thought of her. She had been a child the last time they had seen each other, she was a woman now and unless she started acting like one she would forever stay a child in his mind.

“Right!” Freya blushed her hand curled into a fist with determination. Somewhere in her self prep talk she had drifted from what Marshall had been talking about. Scrambling to catch up Freya slowly lowered her hand. “If nothing else the view is great.” She agreed remembering the incident with the kayaks. Danny had teased her all afternoon about being chicken because she didn’t swim and he had bet her his Walkman that she couldn’t cross the lake by herself. He hadn’t expected her to grab a lifejacket and kayak but he hadn’t said she couldn’t and if it hadn’t have been for her anger at wanting to show Danny Smith wrong and the lifejacket she would have drown.

Wrinkling her nose Freya smiled up at Marshall. “Who says I was frowning.” Trying not to gush over the simple way he said she had a lovely smile. “And I don’t need a five second head start to beat you.” Freya bragged sticking her tongue out at Marshall as she sprinted out of the kitchen and out of the dining hall towards the high ropes course. Chances were in Marshall’s favor, he was taller than her and would have more reach but Freya put her all into the race glad that she has active and fit, if not the biggest fan of just running.

Time and time again Freya wanted to look back, to see where Marshall was but more than that she wanted to win or at least tie and didn’t give herself the luxury. Cutting through the trees Freya tried for a short cut racing down the hill with abandoned excitement and joy. Breaking from the treeline Freya could see the ropes course and kicked it up a notch uncaring that the last tree branch scraped across her cheek harshly. She didn’t see Marshall in front of her and that gave her hopes that she wasn’t going to lose by a long streak and that she could maybe still win.

But life was rarely that fair and like the graceful klutz that she was at the last twenty yards Freya tripped and rolled head over heels into a tumbled mess. Looking up at the sky Freya calculated her aches and pains and smiled when she found none, at least for the moment before crumbling into laughter. What was life if you couldn’t even laugh at yourself in good humor? Because when it came down to it Freya was two left feet if there ever was one. “Help I’ve fallen and I can’t get up!” She laughed lifting her hand waiting for assistance. Marshall was sure to be just behind her and if he was half the gentleman she thought him to be he would come to her aid.

 

[Zelanian]

He hadn’t expected the sudden firmness in her voice—or the tongue. And it gave Freya the head-start she’d claimed not to need. By the time he’d got over the surprise, she was out the door. With no time to think up a retort in exchange, he skirted the stainless bench and shot through the kitchen door in pursuit.

She’d grown up all right. She’d been more hesitant, quieter, a few years back. But he remembered the intense gaze that held you like a magnet, a look that dared the world. It was the part of her he’d never forgotten, he realized.

Ahead, Freya’s long legs were zipping her across the drive.

As he ran after her, Marshall mentally reviewed the camp layout. The normal route to the front field was down the drive towards the gate. But she’d headed off the road, through the trees.

She’s going to cut around the back of the office!

The camp office sat at the junction where the drive divided. Beyond it lay only the bottom field and the main car park. And it probably was faster to get there through the trees, though he’d never been that way. Obviously Freya knew something he didn't, but no matter, he’d catch her.

Marshall leaped up off the road onto the grass edge and followed her cute rear through the trees. She was about fifteen steps ahead, but his strides had to be longer. Surely he’d catch her; he had to!

They dodged through some closely-growing tress around the back of the camp office, and then the ground dropped away. It was all downhill to the flat plain of the bottom field. Marshall sped up. She was almost close enough to touch, but he couldn’t quite close the gap. The girl could sure run. No more head-starts for this one.

All at once she tripped, went down like a shot deer, tumbling. Adrenalin spiked; Marshall gasped and ran towards where she lay, face up—giggling. Ok, she hadn’t hurt herself.

“Help ... I’ve fallen and I can’t get up!”

Her arm rose up from the grass.

The gesture reminded him of the scene at the end of the Arthurian story, when the Lady of the Lake’s hand rose to grasp King Arthur’s sword as it was thrown into the lake by a grieving Merlin. School English texts. You never forget.

Marshall reached her, stood over her, hands on his knees as he regained enough breath to talk; Fry’s pink lips shook as she chortled, looking up at him through green eyes shining in the afternoon sun.

“I guess you won’t win, Small Fry,” Marshall said. “And you had a start.” Her giggle was infectious and he reached for her hand and pulled her to a sitting position, grinning. Her face was just lovely, he thought, all freckles and fiery eyes.

Marshall looked up at the rope platform which towered high overhead, then glanced back at Freya. “Nothing broken? I guess not, from all that giggling. But there’s no need to try to race me up the ladders. Falling would not be a good look.”

It was probably a bit lecturish. But they wouldn’t look good if they broke something on a silly icebreaker exercise and had to quit camp before the kids even arrived. Thinking of which, they had to get on. Heck … they had only finished one task!

Marshall pulled her up. She rose suddenly; they came together chest to chest; he looked down into her eyes from very close, as her body pressed briefly up against his, molding into him unexpectedly ...