Wish You Were Here

4

We rode for a few miles until we came to a wide wooden cabin. It was just like I had pictured it; the stereotypical summer camp cabin. Dark wooden logs lined the outside with a window on each side.

"It's so cute," I told Gina.

"Isn't it?" She smiled as she grabbed my duffel bag. I threw on my backpack and jumped out.
"It's like out of a movie, don't you think?"

I nodded in agreement. Trees surrounded it on all sides, the sunlight streaming in. I could hear birds chirping and the sound of the trees blowing lightly in the breeze. I couldn't wait to meet the other campers, throw on my swimsuit, and race to the water.

Gina fumbled with her keys as she unlocked the front door of the cabin. I didn't think a lock was necessary on a camp cabin, but figured she was being extra cautious since it was their first year. Maybe later I could drop a hint. I mean, I've stayed in tents in the woods before with no problem. Summer camps didn't exactly tend to have issues with stealing or stuff like that. I followed behind her as she stepped in.

Inside it was one large main room with a small kitchenette against the farthest wall. There was a dirty counter top and some drawers, a few with missing knobs. An old stove and refrigerator sat side by side and looked like they hadn't had a decent cleaning in the last century. I had expected to see bunk beds, but there was only a wobbly looking table and a chair with one broken leg. A partial wall divided the kitchenette from the main room and had a small door. Gina didn't say anything as she jingled her keys around again. She grabbed at one of her keys and stuck it into the small door.

Another locked door?

The door creaked open. Gina turned and smiled at me.

"Come on."

I gripped my backpack straps with both hands. Just past the open door was a staircase. Gina stepped aside to make room for me and then shut the door behind us. She yanked a cord that hung down from the ceiling and a yellow lightbulb flashed on providing us with dim light. I glanced at her nervously.

She started to go down the stairs and I let go of my backpack strap to hold onto the railing. The stairs creaked under our feet with each step. It grew darker the further we went. My heart started pounding and I considered turning and running back up the stairs, but I didn't want Gina to think I was being weird. Once I met the other campers, I figured I'd feel comfortable. I'd probably even laugh about how creeped out I felt just going downstairs.

They'd must have set up the bunk beds downstairs, although it felt more like a basement than a camp bedroom. I made a mental note to bring this up to her later as well. Maybe they didn't have a lot of experience with summer camps? I thought. Although that would be strange for buyers of a summer camp.

We got to the bottom of the stairs and Gina turned a corner. It was dark and my eyes strained to adjust. I also bumped into a small table. The room smelled damp and musty and I coughed to clear my throat. Gina walked straight back until she came to a wall that had floor to ceiling shelves. They looked like bookshelves, but only had a few books placed on them in no particular order. The rest of the shelves were bare. It seemed like an odd style of decorating, but Gina was completely unfazed. She had made a few comments about the main cabin when I'd first met her, and that only had some old plaid couches. It wasn't that bad. Yet down here in the dusty, dark basement there are a bunch of empty shelves with a handful of old, dusty books and somehow that was acceptable to her.

Maybe she likes it.

I tried to erase the look of disgust off my face before she looked back at me, but she was feeling up the wall of shelves. She was rubbing the cover of one of the books that was laid on its side.