My father drove me to camp. My mother couldn't drive, and someone had to stay home with Pete and Sarah. And it was easier going with my father. He didn't notice that I was nervous, so I could tell myself that nobody else would notice. We drove past a marsh with twisted cedar trees growing in it and a bird soaring over it, high and lonesome—an osprey, probably, because of the long wings. That was a good sign.
"It's good to see you looking so pleased." my father said. "Some people would be nervo...
Published on May 20, 2010 06:34