Ron Zevy (pen name Josh Rabinovitch
June 27, 2019
The Mystery of Camp Katahootchie
Chapter 1.
Okay. So this is what I hid in my duffle:
5 packs of chocolate M&Ms. (Camp is nut-free.)
5 packs of BBQ chips.
5 Kit Kat bars.
3 packs of peach sours.
3 packs of cherry sours.
4 packs of assorted Sour Patch Kids. (Okay, so I like sours. Sue me!)
2 packs of jelly beans.
1 package of English toffees. (Not for me. Long story. Involves a boy. Obvs.)
When we get to camp, the junior counselors search our duffles, confiscate the stuff they like, and leave us the rest. That's how it works. It's a game we play. They have been doing it ever since I was a squitoe. That's the name they give to the youngest kids. Yeah, I know, so dumb. But now I was a senior. Now I ruled the camp. Was hoping they would leave me some of my favourite sours and the bag of English toffees.
Ben Shapiro, who was head of waterskiing, poked his head into my tent.
“Rosensweig, Jack wants to see you in the office.”
Jack was the Camp Director.
And I am Rosensweig.
Ruby Rosensweig.
In the outside world, most people call me Ruby. Some call me Rosy. And Ella Potts calls me R-Squared.
But at camp, they call you by your last name. I don't know when this started. But they've been doing it longer than they have been searching our duffles.
Ordinarily, I hate being called by my last name. But when someone calls me by my last name, it means I am in camp.
And I love camp.
Camp Katahootchie.
Campers at the other camps call it The Hootch. But not us. We call it by the full name. Camp Katahootchie.
The other camps also call us Hootchie Girls. They think it is funny. Maybe it is. But I think it is kinda dumb. Not very original. A little infantile.
Last year, our end-of-summer sweatshirt, with all our names on the back said, “Hootchie Girls Aren't Easy.”
I thought that was clever.
I am what you call a legacy. All my sisters went to Katahootchie. We are a Katahootchie family. It is a Jewish camp in Muskoka but not really religious. I guess you could call it Zionist. I mean, we sing Hebrew songs and all. Am not so into labels.
All I know is that it is the best seven weeks of the year.
Jack Tannenbaum is the camp director. His office is clear on the other side of camp. I hurried over but I stopped and said hello to people I knew along the way.
And I knew everyone.
I knew what Jack was going to say. He was going to give me the, “You are a senior now and need to be responsible and be an example to the younger campers.” Yeah, yeah, Jack. I know. Chill.
Jack's office is in a cabin. It is the only place in the entire camp that has air conditioning. Have we snuck in there a few nights when it got crazy hot? Am not going to say. But, what do you think?
Anyway, Jack was in there with Mandy Potemkin, who is the head counselor, and with David Orloff, who is the parent liaison—mostly dealing with parents of kids who want to go home after the first day. My sister Rachel had that job a few years ago and she said it was a nightmare.
“Rosensweig, come on in,” he said to me. He wasn’t smiling. Which was kinda weird, because Jack is the most cheerful guy we know. David Orloff wasn’t smiling either. Which was also weird because David is a really happy-go-lucky guy. Mandy wasn't smiling but that wasn't so weird because Mandy is, how do I put this kindly… Mandy is a bit of a “B—.”
Sidebar: some of you reading this are going to say that I think Mandy is a B— because she fooled around with my sister's boyfriend a few years ago at camp. But no. She was a B— way before that.
The other thing that was weird was that my duffle was on Jack’s desk. I knew that it was my duffle because it had “Rosensweig” in red marker all across it.
WT-?
Jack reached into the duffle and pulled out a bottle of Stonya vodka.
“Rosensweig,” he said. “We found this bottle of vodka in your duffle.”
“Jack,” I replied, "that isn't my vodka. Everyone knows I drink Smirnoff.”
Okay, maybe I forgot to mention that I was a bit of a smart aleck.
“Do you think this is funny?” asked Mandy.
I didn’t look at her. Instead, I addressed Jack directly.
“You found a bottle of vodka in my duffle?”
“Yes,” he replied.
“What else did you find?”
Jack turned to David Orloff.
“David?”
Orloff consulted a piece of paper and started reading. He wasn’t enjoying this. He was a good guy. He taught me how to get up on one ski.
“Chocolate, chips, a lot of sour candy…” he looked up at me and gave me a half-smile. I was kinda known in camp for being a sour candy type of girl.
“Where was the bottle of vodka?” I asked.
“Right up top,” replied Jack. First thing Levy found when he searched the duffle. He brought it to me right away. Jarred Levy was the junior counselor who had searched the duffle. He was a good kid. Probably never even seen a bottle of vodka before.
Okay, so I should have been pretty scared. Should have been sh--ng my pants. A bottle of vodka gets you kicked out of camp. No questions asked. But I had no time to be scared.
“Jack,” I said calmly. “Do you know what my average at school was this year?” Jack kinda knew that it was a rhetorical question because he let me continue. “96. I had a 96 average. And that’s only because Mr. Johnson gave me a lousy mark in gym because I didn’t want to play soccer in the middle of a thunderstorm. I mean, seriously, does he think I am an idiot. I had a 98 in Talmud. Do you understand how hard it is to get a 98 in Talmud with Rav Greenberg? None of you could get a 98 in Talmud.” I was really picking up some momentum now. “Do you actually think that I am dumb enough to try to sneak in a bottle of vodka into camp in my duffle knowing full well that the very first thing you do is search my duffle?”
Jack sheepishly looked at David and then at Mandy.
“A bottle of vodka gets you kicked out of camp, Rosensweig,” he said. “There isn’t much I can do. It is out of my hands.”
“Jack, someone planted that bottle of vodka. Someone wanted me to get kicked out of camp. You know it. And I know it. We just have to figure out who.”
“Rosensweig, it is the first day of camp. I can’t start the summer by launching an investigation. The parents will go crazy on me.”
“I’ll do it,” I cried out. “Let me do it. I will figure out who did this and you can kick them out instead.”
“This is very unorthodox, Rosensweig,” said Jack. And then Mandy, who maybe, just maybe, wasn't such a B-- after all, said, “You should let her try to find out who did it, Jack. That seems only fair.”
Jack looked at Orloff, who was nodding his head in agreement.
“Okay, Rosensweig,” he said as he cinched up my duffle, minus all my candy and handed it to me. “I’ll give you a week.”
I threw the duffle over my shoulder and lugged it out of the office.
“Okay. Thanks.”
A week.
As if.
Chapter 2.
I walked out of Jack’s office in a little bit of a daze.
Who would want me kicked out of camp?
Me?
I dropped the duffle. Sat on it and wiped my brow. This would require a little thinking.
As I sat, the maintenance man, Johnny Red, came driving up in his converted golf cart. Am not sure why we called him Johnny Red. He did not have red hair. In fact, he had no hair at all. But that was his name. He wouldn’t even respond to Johnny. Had to call him Johnny Red.
“Hey, Rosensweig,” he called out. “You still here?”
Why would he say that?
Was he expecting me to get kicked out? Johnny Red?
“Sure, Johnny Red,” I said with a smile. “I’m still here. Why wouldn’t I be? I’m a senior this summer. Seniors rule!”
Because, even though I might get kicked out in a week, nobody was going to take camp spirit away from me!
“How's that sister of yours?” asked Johnny Red. This is what he asked me every day. Never knew which sister he was referring to. Didn’t seem to matter.
“Doing good, Johnny Red. Doing good,” which is what I said to him each time. “Hey Johnny Red. How ‘bout a ride back to my tent?” I pointed to my duffle—which was bringing me nothing but trouble.
“Sure, Rosensweig. Jump in.”
So here’s the thing about Camp Katahootchie: the more senior you got, the worse your accommodations got. As a senior I was now moved from a cabin to a tent. The bathrooms and showers were a long walk away. As was the dining room. And the waterfront. We kinda got screwed.
That being said, I loved it!
My tent had six people: five campers and one counselor. When I got back to it, all five were there. Four of my best friends in the world. And my favourite all time counselor—Janice Heinman.
All five had just become suspects.
So now I am going to try to explain to some of you who never went to sleep-away camp the difference between friends and camp friends. Although seriously, I don’t think you would ever get it unless you actually experienced it. Maybe the best way to do it is by using math.
99% B--s!!!
50 days times 24 hours. Add sleeping in the same tent. Add talking about boys. Add darkness. Add sunshine. Add water. Did I mention talking about boys?
Okay. So now maybe you get it.
Camp friends.
We were blood brothers.
But this time, the blood was from getting stabbed in the back.
I hugged everyone in my tent.
Okay, I really don’t want to have to explain camp hugs to you. Take a regular hug and multiply by 10. That's a camp hug.
Was mid-hug with Janice Heinman when the siren sounded. Siren was the call for lunch.
Just like that Russian dog, when that siren sounds, I start to drool.
So here's the other thing about me: I like camp food.
Seriously.
I know that you are supposed to hate camp food. But I love it. I have always loved it. Even though it sometimes feels like they are trying to poison us.
And tonight was mac and cheese. Camp mac and cheese. That was my fav.
But despite my hunger and my craving, I decided to skip lunch.
I had some work to do.
Chapter 3.
From Ruby Rosensweig
Camp Katahootchie
Lake Katahootchie, ON
M1W 3W7
Dear Bubby,
I miss you so much!! Camp is great. I have the best tent ever! I know this letter is short but the siren is going for lunch and today is mac and cheese so I don’t want to be late. Love you so much. Miss you! Miss you!
Love,
Ruby
From Ruby Rosensweig
Camp Katahootchie
Lake Katahootchie, ON
M1W 3W7
Dear Mommy,
I miss you so much!! Camp is so amazing!! I have the best tent ever!!
Amy, Aviva, Sydney, and Shoshanah—you don’t know her. She is from Vancouver but she is like so cool. So I think we will be best friends. Obvs. And Danielle is our tent mother. She is the coolest. I think we have the best tent at camp. Obvs.
Sorry for such a short letter but they are calling us for lunch. Mac and cheese. My fav!!
Love you. Miss you. Give Daddy a big kiss for me. Can’t wait for visitors’ day.
Love you!!
Ruby.
From Ruby Rosensweig
Camp Katahootchie
Lake Katahootchie, ON
M1W 3W7
Dear Zaidy,
I miss you so much!!
I hope your knee is feeling better. Bubby says that you refuse to use the cane. Boy, you are so stubborn. I wonder where I get that from. JK. JK. I love you so much.
See you on visitors’ day.
Gotta go. Mac and cheese for lunch. It is even better than yours. JK JK!
Love,
Ruby.
PS: JK means just joking. Didn’t know if you knew that.
From Ruby Rosensweig
Camp Katahootchie
Lake Katahootchie, ON
M1W 3W7
Dear Bubby,
Yes there are a few cute boys.
No, I have not ‘hooked up’ with anyone.
Should a Bubby be talking like that? I showed Amy your last letter and she cracked up. She said, I wish I had a Bubby like that.
I said, be careful what you wish for.
JK!
Love you and miss you so much!
Love,
Ruby.
From Ruby Rosensweig
Camp Katahootchie
Lake Katahootchie, ON
M1W 3W7
Dear Mommy,
Thanks for my Central Michigan hoodie. I love getting packages.
Miss you.
Love you.
Promise next letter will be really really long.
Promise.
Seriously.
Love you.
Ruby.
From Ruby Rosensweig
Camp Katahootchie
Lake Katahootchie, ON
M1W 3W7
Dear Daddy,
Yes. I am brushing my teeth every day.
Sometimes, I even use toothpaste!
JK!
Love you.
Miss you.
Ruby.
From Ruby Rosensweig
Camp Katahootchie
Lake Katahootchie, ON
M1W 3W7
Dear Mommy,
I know that I promised that my next letter would be really long but I just wanted to send a quick note to ask you to tell Bubby to stop asking me if I am ‘hooking up!’
I mean WT-!
Sorry. JK.
I just don't know why she can’t act her age. But I love her so much. Don’t tell her I said that.
Okay, love you!
Counting days until visitors’ day.
Love,
Ruby.
From Ruby Rosensweig
Camp Katahootchie
Lake Katahootchie, ON
M1W 3W7
Hey Rach,
Okay, as you know very well, I have written this letter, like all my other letters, before I got to camp. I honestly didn’t believe that I was going to do it even though it is a tradition for Camp Katahootchie seniors.
But I think I am pretty good at this.
I really really want to write you a real letter but I don't want to break the tradition.
I hope I am having a great summer. Am sure I am having a great summer. I can’t think of a single thing that could happen which could keep me from having a great summer.
Obvs!
Love,
Ruby.
Chapter 4.
So my plan was to write down a list of suspects, question them very discreetly, and then eliminate until I found the culprit.
But, since I had already written all of my letters, I couldn’t find anything to write on or anything to write with.
I decided to go to the arts and crafts room and find some paper and maybe a crayon to write with.
Elliot Maddoff was in the arts and crafts room eating a tuna fish sandwich by himself.
Elliot eats a tuna fish sandwich by himself every day for lunch.
He is allergic to nuts.
The dining room has no nuts. In fact, the entire camp is nut-free. Jack is very good about dealing with kids with food allergies.
But one of Elliot’s bunkmates once snuck in chocolate-covered almonds and Mr. and Mrs. Maddoff lost it.
Check that.
I have never heard Mr. Maddoff speak. But Mrs. Maddoff totally lost it. She completely went nuts.
Yes, yes. I know. I told you I was a smart aleck.
So now Elliot has to eat lunch by himself. He doesn’t seem to mind. I think he kinda likes a break from all the singing and craziness. Sometimes, I think I should fake a nut allergy too.
I sometimes have lunch with Elliot. We are kinda friends because we are always in the camp play together. He has an amazing voice. I mean, really amazing. He had the lead last year even though he wasn't a senior. Okay, I had the lead too but that's only because not too many of the girl campers want to waste so much of their summer rehearsing. Also, because I am kinda a ham.
“Hey, Elliot,” I said.
Elliot is the only kid in camp that nobody calls by his last name. I don’t know why. I hope it isn’t because he is allergic to nuts. Because that just wouldn’t be right.
“Hey Rosensweig,” he said, looking up from his half-eaten sandwich. “Why aren’t you having mac and cheese?”
Everyone knows everything about everyone at camp.
“Just wanted to come in and borrow some paper and a crayon,” I replied.
“You already wrote your letters right?” asked Elliot with a conspiratorial grin.
“Yup,” I replied with a smile. “This is just for another project.”
“Okay,” he said.
“Hey, Elliot,” I said as I grabbed some paper. “Do you like vodka?”
“Vodka?”
I could tell from his face that he had no clue what I was talking about.
I could remove Elliot as a suspect.
“Okay, Ells,” I sing-songed. “See you at rehearsal.”
“See you, Rosensweig,” he answered, biting into his sandwich.
As I walked out the door, I could hear some sound coming from his tuna-filled mouth.
I turned back and watched him chew. He held his hand up indicating that I should wait.
He took a sip from his water and took a deep breath.
“What did you say?” I asked.
“I said that you are going to have some competition for the lead,” he said. “Greenberg was just in here wanting to rehearse a duet with me. Seems like she is determined to have the lead this year. She has a pretty good voice. Just wanted to let you know.”
Greenberg? Mellissa Greenberg? I didn’t know she could even sing. She wasn’t even a senior. There was no way she was going to get the lead.
Unless…
Unless…
Unless I was no longer at camp.
I just had my first suspect!
Chapter 5.
“Ruby Rosensweig to the camp office please.”
The announcement came over the ancient camp speaker.
Okay.
Two things.
First of all, much like a dog whistle, the announcements that come over the camp speaker are not understood by anyone who is not from Camp Katahootchie. When guests are here, the campers need to translate each announcement like it is a speech from the United Nations. “Was that even English?” my mom asked on last year's visitors’ day. “I think I may have heard the word ‘birdbath,’” my father said.
But I had heard the announcement very clearly.
Here’s the second thing: unless you were a very, very half-glass-empty kind of person, being called to the office only brought joy and elation. Because, like 99% of the time, it meant that there was a package waiting for you. Okay, so there was the time when Jackie Tickman got called and she ran to the office hoping to get a new bathing suit but instead found out that her parents were getting divorced. And so neither came up on visitors’ day and I had to loan her a bathing suit for the rest of the summer.
But, other than that, getting called to the office meant a package from home.
And I knew exactly what it was. Rosensweig family tradition—my mom, always worried that we would get cold at night, would send an extra sweatshirt which would arrive first week of camp. It got to be so that we would kinda purposefully not pack a favourite sweatshirt so it would be the one that mom shipped. I was pretty sure I was going to get my University of Central Michigan (“Fire Up Chips!!”) hoodie.
I wish I had a little more to tell Jack about my investigation, but I was just getting started.
I walked into the office and found the same trio from a few days ago. Jack, David, and Mandy. On his desk is a package addressed to Ruby Rosensweig.
“Am guessing that isn't my University of Central Michigan hoodie,” I said.
“Nope,” said Jack as he pulled out a bottle of vodka.
“Hey—Smirnoff,” I said with a smile. “Finally got my brand right.”
“This isn't funny,” said Jack.
“It's a little bit funny,” I said.
Jack was not smiling.
“Did that come in the mail?” I asked.
“Yes,” he replied.
“With stamps and everything?”
“Yes.”
“Can I have a look?”
No point wearing gloves as the package has already been compromised. And where was I going to get a set of Mellissa Greenberg’s fingerprints anyway? And how do you even get fingerprints?
I looked at the brown bubble envelope that had recently held a bottle of vodka.
I wasn't sure what I was even looking for. I started to hand it back to Jack and then quickly pulled it back. I brought the envelope closer to my face in order to examine the postmark.
The postmark had two very interesting pieces of information.
When it was posted. And where it was posted.
“Hey, Jack,” I said very softly. “This package was shipped on Monday. That’s the day before I got to camp.”
“Yeah, Rosensweig, you could have sent it to yourself the day before you left for camp so it would arrive a day or two later.”
“Well that's the thing, Jack,” I said. “This package wasn’t sent from Toronto. It was sent…” and I walked over to show him the postmark. “From right here in Lake Katahootchie.”
Chapter 6.
Okay, now for a little bit of geography.
Camp Katahootchie is a camp situated on Lake Katahootchie. There also is a town called Katahootchie which is, get this, not on Lake Katahootchie. I can’t make this stuff up, folks. Katahootchie is about a fifteen minute drive from camp. It has a Chinese restaurant; it has a laundromat; it has a diner called, I kid you not, "Katahootchie Eats and Treats;” it has a grocery store which is owned by the same family which owns the Chinese restaurant; and, it has a post office. It has a population of about 80 people in the winter and, with cottagers, about 1000 in the summer.
The Chinese restaurant does not have a liquor license.
As a result, none of the counselors ever go there on their day off. Instead, they go to the slightly bigger town of Prescott which, get this, actually is on Lake Katahootchie but is about 30 minutes away.
Camp is kinda in the middle of nowhere.
Which makes visitors’ day a bit of a chore for everyone concerned.
So when the counselors say they are going to ‘town,’ they mean they are going to Prescott. The other thing is you can get to Prescott by boat. So what I am saying is that almost nobody ever goes to Katahootchie. If they do, they would say, “am going to ‘The Kat.’”
It kinda got to be a thing one summer. When a counselor had a day off someone would ask, “Are you going to The Kat?” And then they would answer, “F__ no!” And then everyone would laugh. Then Jack had a meeting of the senior staff and told everyone to stop doing the bit about going to The Kat. Which was kinda weird because Jack was never too concerned about people cursing before. But it turned out that he didn't want the counselors making fun of the town of Katahootchie.
And that’s because the camp nurse, Jackie (her nickname is “Just-Take-Tums Jackie because no matter what you went to see her for she would say ‘just take Tums’”), is actually from Katahootchie.
Jackie has been the nurse ever since I have been going to camp. I really don’t want to say anything bad about her. She is a very nice lady who breeds Irish Setters. When you go to the infirmary you see pictures of all of her dogs up on all of the walls. Am guessing she takes care of those dogs way better than humans but, like I said, I don't want to say anything bad
Here’s the other thing about the infirmary. At camp, we don’t call it the infirmary. We call it MASH—after the TV show. It is supposed to be Jack’s favourite show and the first thing he did when he became camp director is to rename the infirmary MASH. I have seen the show and I don’t really get it. But then, I don’t get a lot of what you old people like.
Anyway, the thing is, we try not to go to MASH and if, heaven forbid, there is anything serious, we go to the clinic in Prescott.
But today, I had a really good reason to go to MASH. I wanted to ask Jackie some questions.
There was a squitoe walking out of MASH as I walked in. He had a big bandage on his elbow and he was carrying a roll of Tums.
JK.
No Tums.
I was greeted like a long-lost daughter.
“Rosensweig,” she screeched. “Let me show you pictures of my dogs!”
And so I looked over her shoulder and made appropriate sounds as she swiped through pictures of her dogs. Or maybe it was one dog. Who could tell? The Rosensweigs aren’t dog people.
So far, Jackie had made no attempt to find out why I was at the MASH. I didn’t occur to her that I might be sick. But, like I said, am not going to say anything bad.
“Hey, Jackie,” I said gently after the 200th picture of an Irish Setter.
“Yes, hon.” She was still swiping.
“Do you know anyone who works at the Katahootchie Post Office?”
“Of course, hon. My cousin Beatrice works there. You have a package for her?”
“No, Jackie.” More swiping. How many effing dogs did this woman have? “I want to ask her a question. Could you maybe ask her for me?”
Jackie stopped swiping.
“You want to ask her a question?”
“Yes, Jackie. Someone mailed a package to camp from the post office on Monday. I want to ask her if she remembers who it was or what they looked like.”
“Why would you want to ask her that, Rosensweig?” Jackie had stopped swiping.
“It’s for Colour War,” I answered quickly.
Okay. Obviously a lie. I know it was a lie. You know it was a lie. But Jackie didn’t know it was a lie. She only knew that the entire camp went crazy during Colour War. That everyone did and said crazy things. So, when I said it was for Colour War, Jackie just said, “Ah, Colour War. Got it. I’ll ask Bee tonight. Anything else, hon?”
“No, I’m good. Thanks, Jackie.”
“No worries, hon. How is your tummy? Do you want some Tums?”
Chapter 7.
So now I could start enjoying the summer.
Jackie was going to speak to Bee, and Bee would help me identify who sent the bottle of vodka and then the mystery would be solved.
I was feeling pretty pleased with myself. Maybe I had a knack for this kind of thing. Decided I would treat myself with a chocolate bar at Tuck as a reward and to calm my grumbling stomach which had missed out on the mac and cheese.
And so I was feeling pretty good, eating my Hershey Bar (with no nuts), strolling down towards the waterfront to see what my peeps were doing. That good feeling lasted all of seven minutes. That was when I ran into Joshua Radner. And that was when Josh Radner, after saying, “Hey, Rosensweig,” said, “I really wish you weren’t at camp.” And then he walked away.
So here’s the thing about Josh Radner.
He asked me to prom.
And I said no.
Now, let me be perfectly honest.
I really, really, really wanted to go to prom with Josh Radner.
Everyone wanted to go to prom with Josh Radner.
He is cute. He is very, very cute.
That is who my Bubby was talking about when she asked me if I HU with anyone.
Obvs.
But my crew decided that we were not going to have dates for prom. Instead, we would all go to the prom as a group and nobody would have a date.
So that was the plan.
And then Aviva stabbed us in the back by deciding to go with a date. And once Aviva broke our pact, then Amy and Syd quickly got their own dates.
And all three had really cute and romantic promposals.
WT-!
So, two days before prom, I had no crew and no date. And even if Josh didn’t already have a date—Melissa Rosen, seriously? What was he thinking?—it was way too embarrassing to ask him at this point.
So I pretty much decided not to go to prom. I could wear my dress to my cousin’s bar mitzvah.
My parents are pretty good at minding their own business and not interfering too much, but when my mom walked into my room and said, “Hey, Rubes,” I knew that nothing good was going to come out of her mouth.
“No!” I said.
I have found that the best course of action was to cut things off as quickly as possible.
“No,” I repeated.
“I haven't even said anything,” said my mom.
“I don't care. The answer is no. Whatever it is. The answer is no.”
“Your dad and I are thinking of buying you a new iPad,” my mom said with a smile.
I didn’t smile back. I knew this was going to be bad.
“Listen, Rubes. I just got off the phone with Michele Rosen. It turns out that Yehuda doesn’t have a date either.”
I gotta hand it to mom. When she goes crazy, she really goes crazy.
“Yehuda Rosen? Have you been drinking?”
“He’s such a nice boy, Rubes. Remember, you used to be friends.”
“That was when we were five! Seriously, mom. You can get help. The first thing you need to do is admit that you have a problem. We’ll support you.”
“Don't be rude, Ruby. You know that your Uncle Ronnie is an alcoholic. It's not a laughing matter.”
True. Uncle Ronnie did drink a lot.
“Mom. I know that you are trying to help. But it's fine. I don't mind skipping prom.”
“But you have such a lovely dress. And all your friends are going.”
“My ex-friends you mean.”
“Ruby!”
“He’s weird, mom. There's no other way to say it. He collects rocks. His backpack is full of rocks. The kids call him Rosen the Rock. And those are the nice kids!”
“I told Michele that if he asked, you would probably say yes.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
“Okay then. Yehuda Rosen is scared of his own shadow. There is no way he will work up the nerve to ask.”
But. I was wrong.
He worked up the nerve.
So I went to prom with Yehuda Rosen. And it was mostly fine. He is even kinda interesting. Probably learned a little more about geology than I really wanted to know. But it was fine.
Until I ran into Josh Radner.
So that was kinda awkward.
Like super awkward.
He didn’t say anything. Just nodded his head at Yehuda and then at me. And then sorta smiled. Then walked away.
So what was I supposed to do? Follow him and tell him that Aviva, Amy and Sid stabbed me in the back and then my mom forced me to go with Rosen the Rock?
I wasn’t going to do that.
Anyway. He didn't look too upset.
Until I ran into him again today at camp.
He looked really pissed.
Pissed enough to plant a bottle of vodka in my duffle?
I would have to wait and see for Bee's description of the person who mailed the package from the post office.
I was starving.
Four more hours until dinner.
Chapter 8.
I think I may have mentioned that the Rosensweigs were not dog people. But we are water people. We love the water. Swimming, boating, water skiing, sailing, canoeing. We even love the pedal boat.
Waterfront was my favourite part of camp. I choose all of the waterfront activities and try to spend as much time on the lake as possible.
Aviva told me that she once managed to spend an entire summer at camp without going into the water once. I mean, who does that?
“Not once?”
“Nope. It was a lousy summer. Cold and rainy. I didn't go into the lake a single time.”
“What about swim test?” Swim test was mandatory.
“Skipped it,” she said.
“You skipped swim test?”
“Yup.”
“How did you manage to do that?”
“Told him I had a cramp,” she said with a smile. “He never asked me again.”
Gotta hand it to Aviva. She might be a bit of a backstabbing B. But she was one of my best friends and could always be relied on to entertain.
The waterfront was buzzing with activity. It looked like half the camp was there. Turns out that most couldn’t come up with an excuse to skip swim test. There were kids swimming laps and others treading water. Whistles blowing every few seconds. To the untrained eye, it had to look like a disaster waiting to happen. But to me, it was sheer poetry. This was what camp was all about.
I didn’t have to take a test because I already had all my badges. I was a Rosensweig after all.
I didn’t have my bathing suit but I was hot and my head was swimming with possibilities and suspects. The cool water would do me good. So I dove into the lake, did a couple of strokes of front crawl, then pulled myself up onto the dock before anyone yelled at me. But nobody noticed me. I grabbed a towel that was laying on the dock—hey, kids lose towels every day—dried myself off, and headed back to my tent.
Since I didn’t have to take the swimming test, I had most of the afternoon off.
Perfect time for a nap.
Oh yeah. The Rosensweigs were a nap family.
I had the tent to myself.
It was kinda weird, you almost never had the entire tent to yourself. You were usually fighting for a little space and a little privacy.
I changed out of my wet clothes and slipped under the covers.
Nothing like a pre-dinner nap.
But my pillow, instead of its usual fluffy welcome, was hard as a rock.
I reached under it and pulled out...
... A bottle of vodka.
Grey Goose.
So far, three bottles of vodka. And all three were different brands.
Am not sure who was framing me but one thing for sure, they had problems making decisions.
No lunch. And now no nap.
The bottle was too big for my purse so I stashed it in my knapsack and walked back to Jack’s office for the third time.
Jack was on the phone.
“Yes, Caroline. He is in a great cabin. No, he isn’t unhappy at all. Yes. I understand. Yes, I understand.”
Jack rolled his eyes at me and made a circle motion with his finger near his ear indicating that Caroline Levy was a little whack.
He probably was not supposed to do that in front of a camper.
“Of course. Of course. We appreciate your donation. The kids love the basketball court. But he loves his cabin. I just spoke to him.”
Jack shook his head to indicate that he had not just spoken to him and smiled.
“I promise you, Caroline, he is having a great time. No, I don’t know why he wasn’t smiling in the picture. I promise you he is not unhappy. I will have someone post a picture of him smiling.”
Now Jack made the talk-talk-talk motion with his fingers.
He really wasn’t supposed to do that in front of a camper.
“He is taking his swim test now. Yes, of course it is supervised. All of our swim staff are at the waterfront. No, he doesn’t have to tread water if he doesn’t want to.”
Jack then started banging the phone on his head repeatedly.
“He is doing great, Caroline. I promise you. No, you can’t speak to him but I will get him to write you a letter right away. And I will send you a picture of him smiling. Of course, Caroline. Of course. Yes, he has sunscreen, we have sunscreen stations all over the camp. I am sure he is wearing sunscreen. Yes. Yes. I know he is a little pale but he should be well-protected. Of course, Caroline.”
Now Jack made an imaginary noose and pretended to hang himself.
“Of course, Caroline. Call any time you want. No, of course not. It is no trouble at all. My pleasure.”
Jack gently hung up the phone.
He looked genuinely happy to see me.
“Rosensweig. This is beginning to be a habit,” he said.
I pulled the bottle of vodka out of my knapsack and handed it to him.
“Sounds like you could use a drink. I’m sorry. I didn’t bring any orange juice.”
“Grey Goose?”
“Yup, whoever this is, is beginning to at least show me a little respect.”
“Where did you find it?” asked Jack.
“Underneath my pillow when I got back from waterfront.
“Underneath your pillow?”
“Yup, and I didn’t even lose a tooth. Pretty good deal.”
“Did you see anyone come in or out of your tent?”
“Nope.”
“Underneath you pillow?”
“Yup.”
“Well,” said Jack, as he put the vodka in his desk drawer—where he now, I suspect, had the two others. “At least we now know one thing.”
“What’s that?” I asked, although I had already figured it out.
“Whoever is doing this is in camp with us.”
“That’s right,” I agreed. “We can narrow down the list to about 250 people. Shouldn’t be too hard.”
“You on the case, Rosensweig?” asked Jack. I was pretty sure he was going to pop open one of those bottles the minute I left the room.
“I’m on the case, Jack,” I said as I turned to leave.
When I got to the door, I turned around as Jack was slowly reaching for the desk drawer.
“Hey, Jack,” I called out. “Why does Reggie post pictures of kids who aren’t smiling?” Reggie was the camp photographer.
“Because he either posts a picture of the kid when he isn’t smiling or no picture at all. Either way, I get a phone call.”
“Hey, Jack,” I said flashing a big smile. “I’m always smiling.”
Chapter 9.
How can I best describe the camp dining room? First off, we call it the ‘chadar.’
Maybe the best explanation is that it is a scene of controlled chaos.
The first thing that hits you is the noise. It starts as a cacophony. (Word of the week at the Rosensweig house. Obvs.) But as the minutes go by, you slowly start hearing distinct sounds. The clatter of the cutlery only slightly muffled by the chants and songs coming from the tables.
Today was chicken and rice. I love chicken and rice. But I only really love camp chicken and rice.
“I don’t understand it, Ruby,” my mother says as she tries to shovel a spoonful of cashew nut chicken from Canton Gardens into my plate. “You love chicken and rice. This is chicken and rice.”
“It's not camp chicken and rice,” I argue.
“How can camp chicken and rice be better than Canton Gardens?” my dad says in exasperation. “That makes no sense.”
“I don’t know. But it just is.”
Not everyone has the same love of camp chicken and rice as I do. The line at the alternate food station, plain pasta with tomato sauce—some of the kids have that every single night—was really long.
It took me a while to get to my table because I hugged all the people in line that I knew.
And I knew everyone.
Dinner was delish. Doesn’t hurt that I was absolutely mungry!
I held my empty plate up in the air and one of the counselors came and gave me a second helping.
All my peeps were at the table. Aviva is a plain pasta and tomato sauce girl.
“Rosensweig, am I crazy or does that look like barf?” she said as I dug into my meal. Aviva can really be jokes, but I was trying to enjoy my meal.
“Aviva!!!”
“She’s kinda right, Rubes,” piped up Sydney, only too happy to pile on. “How can you have two helpings of that?” Syd is also plain pasta and tomato sauce.
I held up my hand and slowly took away all the fingers except for one.
“How rude!” said Aviva with a devilish grin.
I love my peeps!
This is what camp is all about. It's not supposed to be a crime-solving vacation.
“Can I get a table for birkat (the prayer after meals)?” shouted out Mandy.
Our table yelled and screamed and made the most noise in order to get the honor of leading the prayer.
We won.
Obvs.
Okay, so I kinda told you that the chadar was a bunch of random noise until you really paid attention to hear the different sounds coming from different places.
If you are still paying attention, you are going to be convinced that you just heard 200 kids pray the words, “I swear I saw your bra,” with great gusto. But that can’t be. I mean seriously. That would just be cray cray!
Our table is great at making noise but most of us, like drunks trying to pass a sobriety test, just can’t seem to touch our nose with a finger. Which is the universal camp signal which saves you from having to clean up the dishes. So Amy, Syd and I ended up having to clear the dishes.
Again.
We took our time and gossiped about news we heard about two counselors who were already hooking up. Very, very juicy gossip.
As a result, we were late for ‘mifkad’ (flagpole) and had to run over there.
As if.
The Rosensweigs are not a running family.
We got there in time for a schmeryl.
A schmeryl, I don’t even have any idea how to spell it, is a rhyming verse where you have to guess who it is about. Okay. That was really bad English. But you get what I mean. I have no idea what shmeryl means or where it comes from. I will pause while you Googlers look it up. I also have never heard it used anywhere other than Katahootchie. Nobody knows where it came from. Well, I guess someone knows. But I don’t. And I don’t really care. I just know they are super fun and funny. And the best is that nobody can find a rhyme for Rosensweig so I usually escape being made fun of. Anyway, we got to mifkad just in time to hear the first one...
“Shmeryl shmerly on a canoe.
This one is for the boy who loves Mountain Dew.
Basketball and soccer are his favourite sports.
He’s a real team player—on and off the courts.
He had brown eyes and a very big smile.
I know that we will be best friends for a while.
When you're hungry at camp, you go to the hadar.
Who else could it be but...
Adam Benatar!!!”
And then everyone went nuts.
Adam Benatar was one of the camp jocks. Some of my peeps had a crush on him. I don’t really get it. I mean he's nice and all. But I have never heard him say more than five words in a row. The thing about a shmeryl is that the person it is about has to do the next one. I have never heard Adam ever do one.
The mifkad got all quiet because I was not the only one thinking that Adam Benatar is not so much with the rhymes.
But then, he blew me and everyone away.
He started with a very small quiet voice which began to pick up steam.
“Shmeryl, schmerly, on the wing of a bird.
This one’s for a girl with the prettiest voice you have ever heard.
Singing in the Bama is where she can be found.
Everyone says she is the nicest girl around.
Jordan and Abby kissed at the senior fair.
This girl has lots of freckles and bright curly hair.
I’m happy to say she is one of my best friends.
Nobody wants this summer to come to an end.
Her favourite animal is an alligator.
Everyone knows Jordan and Abbey broke up two days later.
When camp is over, we all will bawl.
Who else could it be but...
SHIRA HALL!!!”
And now the noise was out of control. Am sure the cottagers on the other side of the lake could hear us. It was a Camp Katahootchie complete freakout!!!
It took a long time for mifkad to get quiet. We still had to hear the announcements and to find out what the evening program was going to be. But we still had one more shmeryl to hear.
Shira cleared her throat and was about to begin when Mandy called out, “Make it a short one!”
Shira looked relieved and then began her rhyme.
“Shmeryl, shmerly, I will make this short.
We all know that water skiing is her favourite sport.
She loves all her snacks, especially latka.
But late at night she likes to sip vodka.
I hope Jack doesn’t get mad if I mention her booby.
But that is the only rhyme that I can find for…
Miss Ruby!!!”
Once again the crowd exploded with shouts and laughter.
I had a big smile on my face.
But I was not smiling inside.
Vodka?
Shira Hall?
WT-!!
Chapter 10.
Shira Hall?
Shira Hall?
I barely knew Shira.
Why would she mention vodka in rhyme? And was I crazy or did everyone laugh especially hard at that line. Was everyone in on this?
Okay, Ruby.
Calm down. Don’t get paranoid. There had to be some sort of explanation.
Everyone was running to the sports field for the EP (evening program) but I hadn’t moved.
Jack walked by without saying a word. He just raised an eyebrow.
I threw him a look which said, “Back off, I’m on it.” At least I hope that is what it was. It felt pretty close to my “I think I am going to throw up” look.
“C’mon Ruby, let’s go.” The gang had rolled up. Did they look a little, I don’t know, like they knew something I didn’t?
Calm down, Ruby.
“Am not bringing no stinking sock.” This was Aviva.
“You have to bring a sock. Mandy said that EP was on the sports field and we had to bring a sock.” This was Sydney.
“Nah. Every time they tell us to bring a sock it turns out that we don’t need a sock. The whole thing is a scam. Am not bringing no stinking sock!”
Okay, so this was kinda true. A lot of what went on at camp was lies, half-truths and deception and misdirection. Waking up in the middle of the night to find out which team you were in for Colour War. Stuff like that. And one of Mandy’s favourites was to tell us to bring a sock to EP. In case we needed it for something like Capture the Flag. But we almost never needed the sock. Everyone seemed to think that was hilarious.
Aviva didn't seem to think so.
“What if we are playing Capture the Flag?” argued Amy. “You are going to need a sock.”
“I’ll borrow a sock. People wear socks. Someone will give me a sock.”
“People wear socks?” retorted Amy. “That’s what you’re going with? Rosensweig, can you help me on this? Vivs thinks she can borrow a sock. Is she whack or what?”
I didn’t say anything.
“Rosensweig?”
“What do we know about Shira Hall?” I asked.
“Yeah, she got you pretty good. Who are you going to hit at mifkad in the morning? We can help you after EP.”
“It was kinda random though, right?” said Aviva, who had taken a break from her sock tirade. “I mean. Does Shira Hall even know you?”
“She was funny though,” said Syd. “I liked how she rhymed latka with vodka.”
I was about to tell the gang about the whole vodka mystery but decided I wanted to wait a little longer. I didn’t like keeping secrets from my best friends. We told each other everything. But I thought I needed to keep this to myself a little bit longer.
“C’mon Rubes,” said Syd. “Let’s go to the field. I really hope it is Capture the Flag. I can’t wait to see who Aviva borrows a sock from!”
“You guys go ahead,” I said. “I have to go to the bathroom. And I will bring an extra sock for Aviva just in case.”
“Don’t, Rosensweig. Seriously. Don’t.”
But I wasn’t going to the bathroom. I was going to go look for Shira Hall.
*****
But, I didn’t have to look for her. All of a sudden, she was standing right next to me.
“Rubes!!!”
Rubes?
And then, also all of a sudden, she was giving me a hug.
What are we? BFFS now?
Okay. Hugs at camp were no big thing. Everyone hugged everyone. Like everyone. You hugged people at camp that you wouldn’t even say hi to in the cities.
So, okay.
“How funny was that?” she said. She was like, so pleased with herself. “Did you hear how loud everyone laughed?”
“So jokes,” I said.
Pretty much everything at camp was so jokes.
“So who are you going to do for your shmeryl tomorrow?”
Shira Hall was like completely oblivious (another Rosensweig word of the week) that it was so so random for her to have picked me.
“Dunno,” I replied. “Maybe one of my crew.”
“Yeah, yeah, do it for Aviva. I can help you later tonight if you want.”
“Sure, thanks,” I said with very little enthusiasm.
“Okay, got to get a sock,” she said, skipping away.
“Hey, Shira,” I called out. “Why did you mention vodka?” I studied her face very carefully but either she had no idea or she was the best poker player ever. “Is that a thing?”
“It was the only thing I could think of that rhymed with latka.”
“How did you know that I liked latkas?” I asked.
“Everyone loves latkas,” she replied matter-of-factly.
She had me there.
It was true.
Everyone loved latkes.
Chapter 11.
I went back to my tent so I could get a sock. I mean, I kinda liked Capture the Flag and, if this wasn’t just another Mandy psych-out, then was not about to borrow a sock like Aviva.
The tent was empty.
Everyone was at EP.
I checked under my pillow.
No vodka.
As I walked out of the tent, I nearly ran over Nurse Jackie.
“Whoa, Rosensweig,” she said, as she side-steps me. “Hold on to your horses.”
“Hey, Jackie,” I replied. “Sorry about that. Am late for the evening program.”
“Got your sock, eh, Rosensweig?”
Jackie could be funny. Not a lot of people knew that.
“Yeah. Just in case.” I shrugged. “What are you still doing in camp?” Jackie usually hightailed it out of camp when the clock struck five.
“Broken leg.”
I looked down at her leg. It looked fine.
“Not me, Rosensweig. One of your genius camper friends decided that he wanted to climb up the flagpole. Made it all the way up in five minutes. Then down in five seconds. Had to take him into town to the clinic. Broken femur. Broken right through. Better hope he isn’t on your Colour War team.”
Like I said. Jackie could be funny.
“Who was it?” That was weird. That kind of news usually spread through the camp like wildfire.
“Dunno. Never caught his name. Kid was crying too hard to manage a word. I drove out there with one of the cooks. Just came back to get my car.”
“Why didn’t you just drive your car to the clinic?” I asked.
“Couldn't drive now, could I? Was already into my third rum and Coke when Jack called. Had to put it in a to-go cuppie,” she smiled and waved her pink water bottle at me. Jackie was never without her pink water bottle.
Jack couldn't be too happy. Camp Directors live in fear of a bad accident. Broken leg wasn't too bad. Losing a kid on a canoe trip. Now that was bad.
“See you later, Rosensweig. Don't go breaking any bones trying to climb or capture a flag.” She started walking to the parking lot while I made my way to the sports field.
I was nearly out of earshot when I heard her call out my name.
“Hey, Rosensweig,” she yelled. “I forgot to tell you. I heard back from Bee. She told me who brought in the package to the post office. It's the weirdest thing. You’ll never guess who it is.”
But she was wrong.
I had just guessed.
Chapter 12.
I went back to Jack’s office for the third time today.
He did not look all that surprised to see me.
“Jack,” I said.
“Rosensweig,” he replied.
“You have three bottles of vodka in the drawer of your desk?”
“Yes. Why, did you get another delivery?”
I ignored his question.
“Does the drawer have a key?”
“Yup.” He picked up a massive key chain that had been sitting on his desk. It looked like the key chain of a superintendent at school.
“Would you mind opening the drawer for me?”
Jack shrugged his shoulders. Went through all the keys on the chain like they were rosary beads, and then finally found the one for the desk.
“May I?”
Jack shrugged his shoulders again, stepped away from the desk, and handed me the key. I reached down, opened the drawer, and pulled out the first bottle that my hand found.
It was the Smirnoff. I tried to open the cap but it was sealed tight.
Hmm...
I reached down and pulled out the second bottle.
It was the Grey Goose.
This one, too, was sealed tight.
Darn.
Then I pulled out the third and last bottle of vodka.
But this time, the seal was already broken and the cap twisted off easily. I took off the cap, brought the bottle to my mouth, and took a really, really long swig. I then let out a satisfied, “Ahhhhh,” wiped my mouth with my sleeve, and forcefully slammed the bottle on the desk. I then gently pushed it towards Jack.
“Go ahead, have a belt,” I urged.
Jack, who, to his credit, had understood that all was not as it appeared but hadn’t quite figured out what, took the bottle, wiped the top with his hand (hurtful, I don’t have cooties) brought the bottle to his lips and took a sip.
“This isn’t vodka,” he said.
No s—, Sherlock.
I didn’t say that.
“Nope.”
“It’s water,” he said.
“Yes,” I replied.
"Actually. It’s Camp Katahootchie water.”
“Let me ask you a question, Rosensweig. How did you know the bottle was going to be filled with water?”
“I have a better question, Jack. Who else has the key to that drawer?”
And now both Jack and I knew the answer.
Chapter 13.
Only one other person had the keys to Jack's desk: David Orloff.
Jack trusted him.
Everyone at camp trusted him.
Did he drink a little? Yeah. Okay. Sure.
But this was crazy. This made no sense.
David was one of my favorite counselors. And, I was pretty sure, I was one of his favorite campers.
I had to speak to him and find out what the hell was going on!
I gave Jack the virtual BRB sign and staggered out of the office.
I knew where David would be. Everyone was at the sports field for the evening program.
I ran over there.
Yeah. I said it. I ran.
As I got close, I saw a young camper hopping down the path. He only had one sock on. Aviva must have gotten to him. Man, Capture the Flag on the first day of camp! Now that was the ultimate psych-out.
David was standing to the side. It wasn’t clear if he was playing or just watching. I didn’t care. I needed to talk to him.
He saw me approach. His eyes did not show any fear. “Rosensweig,” he said. “You’re late. The game started already.”
“I need to talk to you.” My voice was barely above a whisper.
“Sorry?” The field was full of loud joyful cries.
“I need to talk to you,” I said, raising my voice a little.
“Okay, so talk.” Now his tone got a lot less friendly.
“Not here,” I said, motioning to a nearby clump of trees. “Over there.”
We both walked over to the shelter of the trees.
All of a sudden I was feeling really, really tired. The events of the day had begun to take hold on me. I had to sit down.
David sat down too.
“I know about the vodka,” I said simply.
He didn’t move. He didn't say anything for the longest time. It was like we were having a staring contest.
Nobody beats the Rosensweigs in a staring contest.
Finally he spoke. “Who else knows?”
I didn’t reply.
“Rosensweig. Who else knows?” His voice was a lot louder. “Does Jack know?”
I couldn’t speak. Didn’t even know what to say.
Then David Orloff was shaking my shoulders and calling out my name.
“Rosensweig. Rosensweig. Rosensweig! ... Wake up. We’re here. We’re at camp. Wake up Ruby!”
I opened my eyes and I was sitting on the camp bus. David Orloff had a big grin on his face as he was shaking my shoulders.”
“You snore, Rosensweig. Big time. I feel bad for your tent mates. They are going to have the worst summer ever.”
I was the last person on the bus. I had slept the entire way to camp.
“Grab your knapsack, Rosensweig. Man, this is the last time I volunteer for bus duty. You guys are a real nightmare!”
He was right. It had been a real nightmare.
I reached under my seat to grab my knapsack. As I pulled it up to my lap I felt it jab me from inside of my bag.
I reached in and rummaged around and pulled out a bottle of...
Oh no…
The end.