Secrets at Camp Nokomis. Jacqueline Dembar Greene

      

      Secrets at

      Camp Nokomis

      by Jacqueline Dembar Greene

      1

      All Aboard

      “Pay attention,” Mama warned Rebecca. “I don’t want to lose you in the crowd.”

      Rebecca could barely take her eyes from the brightly painted stars dancing across the dome of the train station. She had never imagined that Grand Central Terminal was so elegant.

      Grandpa followed Rebecca’s gaze. “In the country, you’ll see real stars,” he said, putting his arm around Rebecca’s shoulder. “So close—you can almost touch them.”

      “You won’t see stars if we don’t find your camp group,” Mama said. She craned her neck trying to see over the throngs of people. Families ushered children through the vast terminal, shouting over the echoing din of voices. Several men in sporty knickers stood near a marble staircase holding camp banners. One read “Sunrise Lake Camp,” and another “Camp Pinewood,” but none named Rebecca’s camp. Rebecca guessed that the young men must be counselors for boys’ camps.

      “There!” Mama announced, pointing to a tall woman in a yellow skirt holding a sign for Camp Nokomis. Rebecca’s pulse raced. She was going to spend eight whole days in the countryside! If only her friend Rose were here, too. It would have been so much more exciting to be heading to camp together, as they had planned.

      “It is good you can leave the city,” Grandpa said. “You get fresh air, and even swimming, instead of heat and sickness all around.”

      Rebecca bit her lip at the mention of sickness. Grandpa didn’t have to remind her that polio, a sudden illness that left many of its victims paralyzed, had begun to plague New York City. It seemed to strike children most. That’s why Rose was at home while Rebecca was ready to board a train.

      She and Rose had been thrilled when their applications were chosen for the very first camp session. Every neighborhood family without money to spare signed their daughters up for the free camp. There were never enough spaces for everyone, but Rebecca and Rose had been among the lucky girls picked by the City Children’s Society to attend Camp Nokomis.

      Then, just a few days ago, a boy in Rose’s building became ill with polio. City health workers nailed a quarantine sign on the front door. No one could go in or out of the building, in order to prevent the dangerous disease from spreading. Now poor Rose was stuck in her apartment, and Rebecca would be at camp without her.

      “I wish I knew someone else going to Camp Nokomis,” Rebecca said anxiously.

      “You’ll make new friends,” Mama reassured her. Rebecca hoped Mama was right.

      They pressed forward until they stood in front of the lady holding the camp sign.

      “Your name?” the woman asked, looking down at Rebecca.

      “Rebecca Rubin, Miss,” she answered politely.

      “I’m Miss Henry,” the woman said, “and I’ll be accompanying you on the train.” She looked at Mama. “I’ll need Rebecca’s health certificate.”

      Mama handed Miss Henry the doctor’s form that had been issued after Rebecca’s physical exam. Miss Henry added it to a large envelope and checked off Rebecca’s name on a neatly typed list. Rebecca saw some names with lines drawn through them and felt a pang of sadness. Maybe one of them was the name of her friend, Rose Krensky.

      When all the girls were assembled, Miss Henry addressed the parents fussing over their daughters. “Don’t worry a bit. The girls will be well cared for.” Some parents had tears in their eyes as they hugged their daughters good-bye.

      Mama kissed Rebecca on the cheek. “Do take care, Beckie,” she said. She smiled, but Rebecca saw that her mother’s eyes were moist. Rebecca felt a nervous flutter in her stomach. She truly wanted to go to camp, but without Rose, it was harder to leave.

      With Miss Henry leading the way, the girls trooped off, clutching carpetbags and cardboard suitcases. They gawked at the huge glass windows in the station and the seemingly endless stairway. As they neared the tracks, the sound of chugging train engines filled the terminal.

      “Here’s our train car, girls,” Miss Henry announced. “All aboard!”

      Miss Henry carefully counted heads as the girls found seats in a passenger car. Rebecca slid into a window seat. In moments, the train blasted a piercing whistle and clattered out of the station. Rebecca felt her stomach lurch. She really was going away to the country—all by herself.

      Miss Henry raised her voice above the noisy train wheels as they clacked along the iron tracks. “This is the smallest group we’ve ever had,” she said, frowning at her list. “Unfortunately, several campers canceled at the last moment, and it was too late to contact more girls.” She pasted on a faint smile. “Aren’t you lucky! You’ll have lots of space inside your tents. You’ll learn to swim, and canoe, and make some lovely crafts. Not to mention there will be an abundance of nutritious food.” Then she added with a grin, “And some not-so-nutritious toasted marshmallows!” A few girls clapped their hands in delight.

      Swimming! Canoeing! Rebecca felt sorry for anyone who had to miss such a wonderful trip. Perhaps, like Rose, some girls were stuck in quarantined tenements—or worse, maybe they were sick themselves. Rebecca tried not to think too much about Rose.

      She glanced at the other girls, wondering if they wanted new friends, too. Some of them already knew one another. They hugged and laughed and chattered about all they had done in the past year. They barely looked at the new campers.

      Rebecca turned to the girl sitting next to her. “I’m so excited,” she said brightly. “Aren’t you?” But the girl just stared down at her lap. She was younger than Rebecca and seemed about to cry. Rebecca patted the girl’s hand. “Don’t worry, we’re going to have a grand adventure,” she said firmly. She tried to swallow the lump in her own throat.

      Rebecca watched through the train window as city buildings flew by in a blur. Before long, the view changed to villages, trees, and fields. The train stopped at a few depots, and groups of boys poured out of the cars, ready to head to their camps. They shouted and jostled each other while chaperones herded them together. At last the train pulled into a small station, and Miss Henry clapped her hands for attention.

      “Camp Nokomis girls, gather your belongings and file out in a ladylike manner, please.” While the girls stood on the platform, Miss Henry dashed back into the train car to be certain no one had been left behind. Just in time, she stepped down as the whistle blew and the train pulled out of the station.

      A sour-faced man in a stiff-collared shirt approached Miss Henry. “Jeremiah Turnbull,” he said, extending his hand, “Chairman of the town health committee.” Miss Henry introduced herself and stepped away from the girls. The two spoke quietly together and Miss Henry handed over the envelope containing the health certificates. The official riffled through them briefly before tucking the envelope under his arm and striding off.

      A few townspeople milled around the station, but none smiled at the girls. Rebecca was relieved when a group of cheerful young women decked out in camp clothes approached.

      “Welcome, campers!” one said.

      A stout woman standing near the ticket window exclaimed, “Look at that!”

      “Simply scandalous,” sniffed her companion.

      “Folks here don’t think girls ought to be tramping around in bloomers,” the counselor told the girls. “But what else would we tramp around in?” She did a couple of energetic jumping jacks.

      Rebecca didn’t care what the townspeople thought. She couldn’t wait to change from her everyday dress and shoes into her new camp clothes. The City Children’s Society