Explorers

***

Later that morning they found a couple of councilors to fill in for them and headed off to Susan and Mark's cabin. They cut through the woods and came out close to the utility shed.

Up the short slate path they walked, in between two rows of pachysandra, to the front porch. They spotted Mark's butterfly net propped up against an old rocking chair and gave each other knowing glances. The screen door, surrounded by red trim and patched with little plastic turtles wherever a hole had popped up, creaked as they opened it and popped their heads inside.

"Hello?" Sydney called out.

"Up here," Susan said from the second floor. The girls quietly crept across the threshold, as if any noise would somehow upset the delicately balanced situation and make it worse.

"There's coffee down there if you want some," Susan called out again. They looked at each other. They could tell by her unusually flat tone that something was definitely wrong.

While Sydney poured herself a cup of coffee, Megan took a few seconds to examine the cabin. It had the same rustic Adirondack feel as the other cabins, only built for permanent residence and homey to the extreme. A bear skinned rug hung on one of the walls, and on the others numerous oil paintings. There were rugs and doilies everywhere. To their right, a large brown sofa plopped in front of a flat screen TV. Above it, a poster illustrating over a hundred butterfly species.

Upstairs they found Susan behind her desk and engaged with her laptop. Save for a slight glance their way as they entered her office, it seemed like she didn't notice them at all. They took a couple of seats in front of her desk and sat quietly, neither of them wanting to break the silence.

Finally Sydney spoke up.

"It's a lovely office," she said. No response. She looked around uncomfortably. If not nice, the room was at the very least interesting. Scattered about were several trinkets, the kinds of things that people accumulate as they travel the world. Sydney spotted a small laughing Buddha, a conch shell, a beer stein, and some other items of interest. It was an eclectic mix, but then those collections usually are. She was really struck by the two bookcases to her right. One was filled with books on conservation, biology, natural history and so on. The other was filled with books on child psychology and eating disorders. For a second she didn't know if she was sitting in a natural historian's study or the office of one of her professors back at school.

Megan tried this time. "Thanks for the coffee," she said. Again, no response.

"Why are you angry?" Sydney said meekly. Susan shut her laptop and turned now to look at the both of them. Gone was her typical impassioned glare. Her eyes now looked alarmingly spent. The sun coming through the window behind her, and the sound of the chickadees hopping around the feeder that hung just outside of the window only worked to intensify the shift by way of contrast.

"Okay," she said. "Let's get on with it, then." She slid a couple sheets of paper across the desk. "These are your termination slips," she said.

"What?" they both exclaimed.

"I'm letting you go."

Sydney retorted. "But we haven't done anything wrong."

Susan let several seconds of silence elapse as she prepared her response. "I've been getting complaints," she said.

"About what?" Megan asked. The incredulity was clear as crystal in her voice.

"Various things," she said. She was still looking them in the eyes, but she was sounding less sure of herself now. It dawned on them that she hadn't fully prepared for this meeting.

Sydney, always the sensible one of the two, shifted into a less reactionary and more diplomatic register. "Who complained?"

"Other councilors."

They had no problems with the other councilors. It was a tight knit group, and Sydney and Megan were both good looking and popular. They all helped each other out.

"About what exactly?" Sydney pressed.

A thought struck Susan and she gained her footing. "Missing food," she said.

"Missing food?"

"From the kitchen."

"That's ridiculous," Megan said.

"But didn't you two sneak in there last night and take something?"

To this Megan had no response. She simply sat back in her chair, dumfounded that anybody could have found out. Then a thought struck her.

"I did, yes. But Sydney had nothing to do with it. Anyway, this is all ridiculous. You can't fire somebody over that."

And then it hit them. Of course this wasn't about sneaking food in the middle of the night. This was about the boathouse. Somehow Susan knew, but for whatever reason, she didn't want talk about it directly.

"Is there anything we can do?" Sydney asked.

There, on her lips -- a smile, almost imperceptible. She took a sip of coffee and leaned back into her chair. "You have to promise me," Susan said. She pointed her index finger into the air. "I want you to promise me that you'll both shape up and act like adults."

They nodded.

"Say it."

"We promise," they both repeated.

"Who the hell does she think she is?" Megan exclaimed as they walked back to their cabins. "I mean, treat us like adults, not little children."

"I wonder who saw us?" Sydney asked.

"Oh it doesn't matter," Megan said. She reached around her head and broke through the cloud of gnats and black flies to scratch the back of her neck.

The rest of the walk they took in silence. They were indignant, but also ashamed at having betrayed Susan's trust, though they weren't exactly sure how it was a betrayal.

The rest of the week passed without incident. Then dead week arrived. Graduation commenced, and a horde of proud parents descended upon the camp to take their children home. The crew cleaned up and readied the schedules for the second half of the summer, which would start the following Sunday when the new campers arrived. They had four days until then.

Susan found the girls in the parking lot on Friday morning; they were packing some things into Levi's truck.

"You two aren't staying?" she asked, a note of disappointment in her voice.

"Uh, no. I'm gonna visit some family," Sydney lied.

"I didn't realize that you had family around here."

"Yeah, an uncle in Saranac Lake. Levi's gonna drive me."

"What about you Megan?"

"Oh, I'm just going along for the ride."

She gave them a quick nod and took off.

"We'd better get going," Levi said as he checked his watch.

Saranac Lake was a good 40-minute drive from Willow Head, along route 30. They took the hilly road past lakes and wetlands, ascending slowly until they came out into wide-open fields that sloped down to the peaks in the distance. The girls still hadn't gotten over the immensity and beauty of it all. For Levi, who had traveled this road many times on his visits to friends and family in the High Peaks Region, it was nothing special.

There was a community college in Saranac Lake, he informed them as they approached the town. But the town itself was no college town. The seeds of modernity had obviously been planted there, and the town was fully developed, but at the same time it had a spark of unruliness. Sydney imagined that they were feeling a tiny fraction of what the first settlers must have felt hundreds of years ago.

When they got to the apartment it was around three o'clock. Levi's friends were just waking up. They flopped onto the couch and passed around a bong as they talked about a party that night. Not content to sit around the apartment all day smoking weed, the girls decided to explore the town.

Up and down Main Street they walked, weaving in and out of various small shops, picking up souvenirs for home. They checked out the town library, ate dinner at a local Mexican restaurant, and then walked over to the lake where they stood on the shore and watched fisherman hauling their boats in from the waters, tired yet content.

"It's kind of like we're on vacation," Sydney said. Megan was struck by the clarity of this observation.

"Why do you suppose that is?" she asked.

Sydney shrugged. "Don't know." Without thinking she reached out and took Megan's hand. Megan did nothing to resist.

They sat on the shore for hours, until the sun gave its last gift of light before setting below the horizon, and tinted the glossy black waters of the lake a crimson-orange.

There were two clearly distinct communities in Saranac Lake: the East Side, a tract of prime real-estate and expensive houses that ran along the north shore of the lake, and then the west side, a neighborhood of quaint yet less valuable homes built into the hillside. Levi headed west along a barely paved road, the slope so steep that his truck cried out in exasperation.

"Shit," he said. "I'm gonna have to buy a new truck soon. I'm not sure how much longer this one's gonna last me."

The girls weren't sure how to respond to this comment. They weren't in their element. Levi, on the other hand, had left the camp councilor behind and had slipped into townie mode. His friends weren't interested in camp stuff, so he didn't bother them with it. Instead they talked about working at the ATV dealership, about hunting and fishing, about recent drug busts in the area.

But there was one interest that they all shared. All of them were at the age of subtle recklessness. When the opportunity arose, they all felt an instinctual desire to abuse their bodies in some way, most often by altering their brain chemistry with various substances. And so when they walked through the door, into the thumping pulse of the party, they made it straight over to the beer keg, determined to reach some buzz.

Several beers and a few tokes later, Sydney and Megan found themselves with Levi's friends and a couple of strangers on the back porch. Sydney had fallen back into a creaky futon, and sitting dangerously close to her was a young guy who she had only met ten minutes ago. Was his name Chad? Or was it Tag? He had his arm resting on the frame behind her head.

"You girls are from Pennsylvania?" Another boy asked.

"Yeah," Megan responded.

He nodded, took another toke from his joint, and passed it to someone on his left. Tilting his head up to blow the smoke out, he said: "That's cool. I've got a cousin who went down that way last year to do some work. You two go to school down there?"

"I do," Sydney said. "But not Megan. She goes to school out on the West Coast."

Another nod. Sydney took a sip of her beer. Was it her imagination, or did this guy sitting next to her just move a little closer?

"So you girls work up there at Willow Head?"

They both nodded simultaneously.

"You must be pretty good in the woods then. A couple of buddies and I are going camping this weekend. Loon Lake. You two want to join us?"

The girls looked at each other, unsure of how to politely refuse.

"Should be plenty to drink and smoke," the boy added.

"Actually," Megan said. But before she could finish her sentence, Sydney announced a bathroom break.

Outside the air was layered with sensations: the faint smell of raw wilderness, the thumping music behind them, the sound of crickets all around. Sydney's head was slightly foggy with alcohol and marijuana smoke.

Levi came up behind them. "Hey you two," he said. "I think I'm gonna cut out of here soon. I'll give you a ride back to the apartment if you like."

"Where are you going?" Megan asked.

"Nowhere. Just a friend's house," Levi responded. He was looking down at the ground, avoiding all eye contact. He shuffled his feet for a few seconds. "You know, Mark and Dave probably won't be back until tomorrow.

He fell silent after these words and continued his shuffling. Then: "You've got the whole place to yourselves."

Had he looked up, he would have seen two astonished faces.

"Cool," Sydney stammered.

"Alright, then," Levi replied. "I'll get the truck."

Alone in a stranger's apartment, in a little town that they would likely never visit again. The solitude was more powerful than any chemical they could have ingested. In it their timidity was all but gone; they were sure of themselves, sure of what they were doing and what they wanted to do. The why still hadn't been fully worked out, that was true, but the two of them decided to let go of that question.

Embraced in a kiss, they pushed forward into one of the bedrooms. The walls inside were bare and dirty clothes littered the floor. Megan groped at the wall, found the switch, and flipped off the lights. They relished getting lost in the dark.

"So what exactly are we going to do?" Megan asked.

"Whatever you want?" Sydney said. She could feel an awkward hesitation in the way that her friend shifted.

"What is it?"

"Nothing . . . it's just . . ."

"What is it?"

"Well I feel stupid saying it."

"Really? You're going to stand there and feel stupid around me? Your best friend? Out with it already."

"Okay. I . . . I want to taste to."

"I'd like that," she said before she had even thought about the proposition.

A flair up of passion. The two danced about clumsily until they found the bed. Sydney went on her back, lifted her legs up so that Megan could pull her shorts off. Megan was half done with the job when Sydney stopped her.

"What is it?"

Sydney looked apologetically at her friend. "I'm sorry."

"What, you don't want to do this?"

"No, I do . . . maybe we could slow down a bit?"

"Sure. What do you want to do?" She lied down next to Sydney and coolly ran her fingers through her hair, though inside she was burning up.

"Let's take a bath."

Megan understood. Sydney was self-conscious. She wanted to smell and to taste all right.

The tiny bathroom stood directly above street below. So it was that amongst the distant sounds of traffic and pedestrian chatter, in a tub of hot, soapy water, Megan felt and tasted the inside of another woman for the very first time. The response to her probing fingers and tongue, the tight grip and the ecstatic moans, was addictive. Megan wanted to feel her friend give in like that over and over again, and so she did as the night turned to a dull grey morning. When the two were spent they fell asleep in each other's arms, not caring who might discover them.

***

They only had that one night, but the transformation was substantial. By the time they got back to Willow Head on Sunday they could feel it in themselves as they walked around. They wondered if anybody else could sense it. Were little children attuned to such things? Maybe yes, maybe no. Megan watched them during orientation and tried to plant herself in their heads. She thought back to when she was that young. She never paid attention to the subtle signals that adults send back and forth.

These signals were subtle yet profound. Later that day Megan and Sydney were talking to each other when Susan walked by. In a glance her smile dissolved into a knowing look. It was angry, spiteful -- scary. That night the girls met in the boathouse and discussed the situation. They wondered when they would get another visit from Mark. Or maybe this time it would be Susan herself, bounding through the mess hall one morning with termination slips in hand.

But then neither of them had done anything since they had been back. Why was she so angry? Sydney guessed that it might have been a moral objection of some kind.

"Well then, that's her own damn problem," Megan said. She was beginning to dislike Susan and the things that she stood for. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised. Her entire existence is wrapped up in controlling other people."

Sydney thought this was a low blow. "Don't you feel a sense of appreciation?" she asked. "I think she's helped us a lot. If it wasn't for this place when we were young, who knows what kind of condition we would be in by now."

A sense of appreciation. Sydney had a point, and Megan knew it. But then, that wasn't the point Megan thought as she climbed into bed later that evening. The words weighed heavily on her mind. Sydney had taken sides. She wasn't supposed to take sides. What was she doing taking sides?

The next morning, Megan got up early and made it over to Sydney's cabin. She crept through the rows of sleeping campers and into Sydney's bedroom.

"Hey, what's up?" Sydney yawned as her friend climbed into bed with her.

"You want to come to Europe with me?" Megan said.

Sydney looked at her in shock. "You mean, quit school?"

"Yeah," Megan said, her smile beginning to falter. Suddenly she felt foolish for sneaking into her friend's room and pushing herself on her.

"I don't know."

Megan was silent.

"It's not that I wouldn't enjoy it, Meg. It's just that . . ."

"Yeah I know," Megan said. "I'm sorry I woke you up."

Susan never came for the girls. On the contrary, she disappeared mysteriously. Nobody saw her for the entire week. Mark was forced to fill in for her, and the disdain at having to do this was shining like the Sun on his face. All over the camp he moped and muttered angry comments under his breath: "damn it" and "I'm not even qualified for this" and "she must be pissed off at me". The councilors all worried that he might be scaring the children, so they decided one morning at breakfast to go and pay Susan a visit. Those who had no idea about Sydney and Megan opted for them to go, but Levi interjected.

"I don't think it should be Megan or Sydney," he said. "We need someone with more time under their belt."

"Yeah, but everyone knows that Sue likes these two the most," one of them said as he pointed a milky spoon at the two girls.

"No. I'll go," Levi said.

"I think we should do it," Sydney interjected. Megan shot her a dirty look. "Like you guys said, she seems to like us the most."

Underneath the table Megan gave her friend a subtle but clear message in the form of a kick to the shin. It said: "What the hell is wrong with you? We need to stay out of that lady's crosshairs." Sydney remained silent, but her silence answered loudly: "No, we have to do this. This is our battle."

Just then they spotted Susan, in the doorway of the Mess Hall. It didn't seem possible, but her complexion was several shades lighter than usual. Her hair looked as if it hadn't been washed in days, and her bloodshot eyes were pulled down by the considerable weight of two dark bags. She looked at the councilor's table -- directly at the two girls -- and took a few shaky steps in their direction. Then she stopped as if she had just realized where she was, and she scratched her head. She stepped back, then stepped forward again, but this time on a trajectory to the other side of the cafeteria.

"Jesus, she doesn't look good. I hope everything's alright," someone said. Everyone at the table nodded in unison.

That night the girls went back to the boathouse, but they found the doors padlocked.

"This is really starting to creep me out," Megan announced. "She has it in for us."

Sydney made no reply. Instead she just stood there silently, studying the lock. "We really should go to see her," she said.

"Why?"

"Well, to find out if this has anything to do with us."

"Of course it does; it has everything to do with us. Why aren't you freaking out about this?"

"What good is freaking out going to do?" Sydney responded. Again, she was right. But it wasn't about being right, Megan repeated to herself over and over as the two went back to their bunks.

Transformations are sometimes amazing in their speed and totality. The girls learned this firsthand the following morning, when they finally got their chance to talk to Susan. She showed up to the bi-weekly morning briefing, looking like a completely different person. She was composed, bright, energetic.

"Let's talk about today's hike," she said in a bucolic tone. She tucked her chin down and read from an old clipboard. "Let's see . . . Megan and Sydney, you two are both up for round one." She looked up and gave them both a cheerful smile. "Is that alright with you?" They both nodded. "Great. After breakfast you take your campers back to their cabins and get ready. Let's all meet in the parking lot at nine."