Trinity was up next. “Well,” she said, “that’s going to be tough to follow! We don’t have any candy!”
She cleared her throat as folks chuckled. “The first graduate from the Fiery Falcons is a young lady of great grace and dignity. And she’s got the loudest scream on the face of the earth! When she took her first swim, ladies and gentlemen, I think they must have heard her on the planet Mars!”
Everyone started chanting, “Melody! Melody! Melody!” Mom and Dad looked thunderstruck! I can laugh about it now, but I really was sure I was gonna die that morning.
Trinity continued, “So I am pleased to award this trophy to Melody Brooks, who conquered fear and learned to swim, to paint, to explore, to ride a horse—alone, I might add—to dance, and to fly!”
I thought, Gee, I did that! Me—Melody—I did that. Yes, I did!
Cue the applause—Mom and Dad jumping out of their folding chairs and clapping loudest of all. Penny didn’t know exactly why, but she cheered along also. My mother turned to push me to the stage, but I gently signaled No. Mom nodded.
Trinity shook my hand once I rolled myself over to her, her face aglow. “You are a victory, Miss Melody,” she low-voiced. “Never forget that. And I shall never forget you.”
And you know what? Every time I smell the fragrance of jasmine and hibiscus, and maybe burning wood—ha—I will think of Trinity.
Then, with great seriousness, she placed several certificates and a trophy on my tray. She shook my hand once more. I swiveled my chair around and waved to everyone. Then I placed both hands on my heart. And you know what?
I.
Was.
So.
Proud.
Of.
Me.
I rolled myself back to Mom and Dad. Yeah, Mom was now on Dad’s pack of tissues!
As their counselors took turns presenting certificates and trophies to Karyn, Athena, Jocelyn, and the rest of the cabins, I couldn’t stop thinking how a week ago, all of them were strangers. But now they were my friends!
I. Was. Also. So. Very. Proud. Of. Them.
In our schools, most of us are considered misfits. We are often ignored, mistreated, teased, or overlooked. Each of us struggles with something—physical, emotional, mental—that makes us just a little different from others. Sometimes a lot different.
But here, we were awesome, we were noble, we were able, and we were cool!
I was heading home. I’d be taking my orange balloon (which, amazingly, has not popped yet), my trophy, my gloppy artwork—including my footprints—and my certificates of success and completion in hiking and dancing and painting and yep, horseback riding!
It’d be really awesome to look through the photos the camp compiled and was sending home with me. But I didn’t really need pictures from a camera. I couldn’t wait to tell Mrs. V about everything as we sat on her porch and sipped sodas and listened to music. And when I get back to the library, I’ll thank Mr. Francisco for helping me find the info on Camp Green Glades so he can show some other kid that brochure next year. I’ll return my book on Atta the ant (and admit to him that I actually cried at the end!). And then I’ll dive into books about snakes and skunks and storms, and forests and lakes and campfires. I’ll check out books on horses, for sure. And ask Mr. Francisco to help me find out who to talk to about making better playgrounds in our town so other kids like me can do what all the other kids do!
I hoped I’d get to come back to camp next summer—who knows?
But I wouldn’t have to come back in order to remember Trinity, Karyn, Athena, and Jocelyn.
And I would never forget Malik, Devin, Santiago and… Noah.
And the magic and mystery of starlight, fireflies, and flickering flames.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I would like to give a special thanks to the following people and organizations:
Crystal Draper, who is a natural creator of movement and words, a discriminating editor, a loving mother and daughter, an incredible dancer, and my very best friend. Thank you for your wisdom, your love, and your incredible insight into the mind of a tweenager.
Ailey Rose, who loves to snuggle with a good book, loves to shop and play dress-up, and understands that beauty is found both inside a person and outside as well.
AJ, aka Anthony James, the titanic builder, the intense creator, and the magnificent dreamer, who sees the world with a golden heart and a spirit of possibility.
Horizon Emmanuelle Adams; her mom, Emily; and her dad, Kenyon. Much love to you!
Victoria and Jeffrey. Thank you for love and laughter and memories of catching lightning bugs on East Eighty-Third Street.
Damon and Cory. My sons of strength. My Peter Pans.
Wendy. My Tinker Bell.
Larry and Buddy, silent strengths.
Catherine the Great and Victor the Valiant. Without you, I would be nothing.
Caitlyn Dlouhy, my editor and my friend, whose wisdom and guidance (and yes, she found a green-tipped online marker!) helped me and Melody find our way through the forest of Camp Green Glades. I thank you for your brilliant attention to detail and gifted insight into the essence of good writing. I will forever be grateful. And yes, we get ice cream!
Nita Page, who lifted me up in prayer and lifted my spirits with laughter. Thank you!
Torie Queally—thank you for your wisdom and guidance. And yes, you got the VERY FIRST copy!
Camp Stepping Stones and Camp Allyn and Camp Cheerful. Thank you for summer days full of adventure, exploration, discovery, and respite. And thanks to the hundreds of volunteers at camps like Stepping Stones who make the magic happen each year for dozens of young people like Melody.
Larry Gross, the computer tech magician who saved my lost data, including the manuscript of this book! He retrieved, revived, and reloaded my missing information on a holiday weekend, and did it all with a smiling graciousness. Bless you, my friend!
Cat Denton and the amazing Richlynn team. They spread the word so gloriously.
Janell Agyeman, who remains my forever friend and giver of wisdom.