Read Adirondack Audacity for Free Online Page A

warmer
than this?” Looking at Kat she wags her finger in
disapproval. “And must you use that word. It’s vulgar.”
“Yeah, get used to it.” Kat’s muffled voice comes
from the depths of her sleeping bag.
“Come on, let’s go, I’m starving.” I say. “We don’t
want to keep Mrs. Erhart waiting. God knows what
punishment she’ll exact on us, turn us into forest
pumpkins or something.” I dig down and retrieve my
socks, pulling them on before getting out of bed.
“I’m ready.” Tee says twirling around, showing off
her perfectly pressed jeans and sweatshirt. Her hair is
brushed and pulled back with a matching ribbon. The
sleeping bag on her bed, straightened; pillows fluffed and
stuffed animals lined up in a row. How did she do that, I
just turned my back for a minute? Wow, she’s good.
“It’s too early, too cold and too far to walk to the
bathroom. I’m going back to sleep.” Emi Jo whines,
sliding back into her plaid cocoon, earning her a volley of
pillows thrown at her head. Get up!
…
Within twenty minutes we’re standing on the porch
of the dining hall, a large building constructed of cedar
bark, majestically rising out of a clearing in the woods. A
carpet of green lawn rolls down to the lake’s edge,
anchoring the lodge between the forest and water. The
porch wraps around the front of the building, curved and
bent branches provide ornamentation and support for the
steeply pitched roof. The porch rails are fashioned of
cedar branches spelling out, “Camp High Point.”
Traditional Adirondack chairs are scattered across the
lawn facing the lake.
“I can’t imagine how much it costs to send a kid to
this camp,” Emi Jo whispers. “This doesn’t look like the
dump I went to as a kid. I’ve never seen a camp this nice.
Most of them are pretty crummy.”
“You’re right.” Tee says, also whispering, “The camp
my parents sent me to three years ago was not cheap by
any means but it sure was nothing like this one.”
I’ve never been to camp, so I have nothing to use as a
reference. But even I knew this is pretty ritzy for a kid’s
camp. It makes me wonder what kind of snotty nosed
little brats come here.
As we walk up the porch steps Mr. Erhart rings a
huge bell used to call campers to meals. The smell of
coffee assails our senses as we enter the dining room
through a set of double screen doors. The inside of the
dining hall is a wash of sunlight streaming through multipaned windows, reflecting off the wood panel walls.
There are no curtains on the windows to obstruct the
view of the lake and a crisscross of exposed wooden
beams hold up the roof rafters.
Suspended from the center beam is an Adirondack
guide boat, a cross between a rowboat and a canoe, it
moves across the water using two oars instead of a single
paddle like a canoe. The focal point of the room, the boat
looks more suited to an art gallery than navigating lakes
and rivers.
Mr. Erhart gives us a brief description of the dining
room procedures. The door to the kitchen swings open
and Mrs. Erhart comes bustling through, setting down a
huge platter of eggs, home fries, and bacon on a large
table that acts as a buffet serving station. Stopping to
wipe her hands on her apron, she commands, “Everyone
dig in, we have a lot of work to do, so we need a good
breakfast to keep up our strength. Right, Sweetie?” She
says tickling Mr. Erhart under the chin....psycho woman.
I head to the coffeepot, noticing Vic right behind me.
I hand him one of the heavy enamel coffee mugs
commonly used in restaurants. There is something about
picking up a nice heavy mug, the aromatic steam of
coffee wafting up, filling your senses. Add a little sugar
and cream, take that first sip, it’s a little bit of morning
heaven. As I take my first sip and sigh, I see Vic looking
at me.
“What?!”
“That’s a lot of cream and sugar.” He says, pouring
himself a cup of black coffee. “Hate to see you get fat.”
Jerk.