Imaginer

20 - Where the Hospital is Needed

20

         I started the second day of camp with an extra large waffle for breakfast and deemed it a good day until I remembered we were keeping the same groups as yesterday, which meant I was stuck with good ol’ Agnes, who was still annoyed at me for “making fun of her” the day before.

         “Y’know, Jasslyn, you weren’t being very kind to me yesterday when you…”

         I couldn’t even focus on what she was talking about during our hike up the mountain that rose up behind the lake. Agnes may not have been the best hiking companion, but she sure knew how to spit like a camel.

         I spent most of the hike dodging her accidentally-on- purpose globs of spit.

         I came to a stop when I noticed that Agnes had fallen silent, and that our group had halted.

         “What is it?” I asked, perplexed.

         Agnes was transfixed on the trail in front of us, and so was everyone else.

         My pulse began to speed up. Was there a bear? Did an accident happen?

         Curiosity got the better of me. I nudged and pushed my way to the front of the queue despite the logical (and frankly chicken) part of my mind.

         Jacoby and his friends were at the very front. I stopped behind him, managing to peer over his shoulder on my toes.

         Our guide was speaking to a very bedraggled-looking man.

         Jacoby turned his head to the left just a little bit, enough to spot me and meet my gaze. He shifted just a little to stand beside me.

         “It’s Jack,” he whispered, a hand outstretched.

         I stared at his palm, wondering if it was an invitation of sorts while my mind raced. Jack? That’s Jack? He was only gone for a couple weeks, how could he get so ragged so quickly?

         He dropped his arm when he noticed my stares. Instead, he shuffled again so that he shielded part of me.

         I looked at what I could of the man. He leaned heavily against a tree, one hand clasped over his heart. Our guide was looking at him with cautious eyes, unsure whether he was delusional or unhealthy or some other sort of crazy.

         “What happened to him?” I whispered to Jacoby, inching forward.

         His arm came out to block me. “I think they found him,” he murmured back, head lowered so that no one else could hear him.

         I squeaked and clasped my hands over my mouth immediately afterwards. Jack had seen us. Well, more like seen Jacoby’s flowers: a combination of the frail feathery flowers that cowered behind his feet by the hundreds, and orange flowers that twinkled and looked just like stars.

         Jack staggered from his spot beside the tree and lunged towards us. The other boys standing in front of us scattered to the side with shouts of alarm.

         “Sir!” the guide shouted, while Ms. Chang, our “group leader”, looked at us with disbelief.

         Jack got a good hold on the collar of Jacoby’s t-shirt. He twisted the cotton in both fists and leaned in close, stooping so that their foreheads almost touched. I watched Jacoby’s flowers flail and multiply in size, while my own heart pounded away.