Wherever I Go

Chapters 1 & 2

CHAPTER 1

As I paced back and forth across the living room carpet, I began to rattle off to my mother all the reasons why spending one week at a Christian summer work camp in Racine, Wisconsin would not be beneficial to me. My list began with, “I really need this summer to focus on preparing for college,” and ended with, “I only have so much time left to spend with you before I move away for college,” something I was sure would have hit her deep. She wasn’t buying it.

“You’re going to that camp,” she said. “I know it’s not your ideal way to spend a week of your summer, but it will be good for you.” That’s the thing about my mom; she always thought she knew what was best for me. Ever since my dad left our family two years ago, she’s been on a mission to make sure my siblings and I stay on track and lead a normal life, whatever that means.

“I just don’t see why it’s so important to you that I go to this camp,” I stated, trying to reason with her.

“Come on, Kara,” she pleaded. “Can you please just do this one thing for me? That’s all I ask.” And that’s when I knew this battle was over, and I was on the losing side. Mom always had a way of making herself sound just sad enough to convince me of anything. This was definitely one of those times.

I agreed to give the camp a fair shot, realizing that I didn’t have much else to do other than stare at the boxes in my room and debate whether or not my kindergarten  tee ball trophy was worthy enough to take along to college.

The camp was in three weeks, which gave me plenty of time to mentally prepare myself for seven days of “wakey wakey work campers!” and “who wants to pray for us tonight?”. I had been to this kind of camp before, but it apparently it changes a little every year. When I went two years ago, we stayed in a local middle school, showered in cramped locker room showers, and ate crappy cafeteria food; so needless to say, I was hoping this year would be an improvement. 

 

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That night, I had the strangest dream I’ve ever had to this day. I was in a high school gymnasium surrounded by a couple hundred other teenagers. In the middle of the gym was a giant projector screen and a cross taller than me. A man spoke into a microphone saying, “Please find your crew number on the wall around the gym, and have a seat with your crew. I will tell you what to do from there.” His voice echoed across the room, and before I knew it, I was walking toward the white sheet of paper on the wall that contained the number 23. I had just begun to make out five shadows walking toward me, when I woke up.

I know it sounds crazy, but I could have sworn it was a vision. I remember the projector screen and cross from camp two years ago, but I was on crew 19 then, not 23, so I knew it wasn’t a memory. Nevertheless, I shook the sleep from my eyes, put on a tank top and tennis shoes, grabbed a bottle of water, and set out for an early morning run.

On my run, I could not stop thinking about that dream. What did it mean? What was I supposed to get from it? Should I be concerned? All these thoughts and more raced through my mind as I rounded the corner and approached my best friend Aiden’s house. I walked up to the front porch, gingerly knocked on the door, and waited. A few minutes later, we were running alongside each other, and I was describing my dream to her.

“So you think it’s some sort of vision from the future?” she said through heavy breaths.

“I don’t know, I suppose,” I heaved as we trekked uphill.

“I mean, it’s not totally insane,” she replied. “One time when I was nine, I had a dream that I got a Barbie mansion for Christmas, and lo and behold, there it was under the tree that morning.”