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ONE of the best things about being a kid—superpowered or otherwise—is going to camp. It seems like there's a camp for everything: band camp, dance camp, hockey camp, science camp, baseball camp, fencing camp, art camp…and of course, there's my camp….
“Throw me those shin guards, will ya?”
I was sitting on the floor in my best friend Emily's room, watching her toss shorts and T-shirts into her very chic designer duffel bag. Emily was heading off to soccer camp the next morning. Last year, I'd gone with her. This year…well, I had different plans.
“Oh, and the goalie jersey, please.”
I grabbed the guards.“Here you go,” I said, lobbing them toward the bed. Then I pulled the jersey out of a dresser drawer and tossed that to Emily. She tucked it into the bag, then stuffed her blow-dryer and a handful of hair accessories into the side pocket.
“I can't believe you're not coming with me,” she said, dropping onto the bed with a sigh. “And all because the camp lost your paperwork.”
I gave her a sad shrug. The paperwork thing wasn't exactly true (which I hated).
My mom had filled out the forms and written the check and given the envelope to me to mail—which I hadn't done. Not because I'm irresponsible, but because Grandpa had already told me I was going to a different camp. I was going to Camp Courageous, a special camp for superheroes.
Three weeks later, Mom called the soccer camp to ask about my cabin assignment, and that's when the director explained that they'd never received my paperwork, and that he was sorry but it was too late, the camp was full.
“It's such a bummer,” Emily was saying.“I'm going to miss you.”
“I'll miss you, too,” I said. “But we can write to each other.”
“I guess,” said Emily. “That reminds me. Did you bring your camp address?”
“Uh-huh,” I said, reaching into my pocket and pulling out a slip of paper. I handed it to Emily.
She read the address and smiled. “Camp Courageous? You're going to a place called Camp Courageous?”
I felt a tingle of pride. “Yep. Isn't that a cool name?”
“Sure,” she said, putting the address carefully into her duffel. “But courageous kinda makes me wonder about the sort of activities they're going to have there.”
“Makes me wonder, too,” I said, biting back the excitement in my voice.
The truth was, I couldn't wait to find out.
“Zoe,” said Mom, coming into my room later that day, “I've been thinking…”
I quickly tucked the brochure I was reading for the hundredth time into my suitcase. “Yes?”
“Do you think the twelve pairs of underwear we packed will be enough?”
I rolled my eyes. “Mom, I'm only going away for a week!”
“Well, I just think it's good to be prepared,” she said as she walked across the room toward my dresser. “What if you fall in the lake with your clothes on and have to change? That'll call for an extra pair, won't it? Or what if your suitcase gets infested with ants and they make a nest in that pretty pair of pink and yellow polka-dot underpants?”
I gave my mother a sidelong look. “Ants in my underpants? Mom, are you trying to talk me out of going to camp?”
Mom gave me a tiny smile. “Maybe.” She dug into a drawer and pulled out a handful of underwear, then came over to where my suitcase was open on the bed and dropped them in. “Just to be safe,” she said.
I laughed. “Whatever.”
“It's just that…well, it was bad enough last summer, sending you off to soccer camp, and that was only for three nights. This time, you're going to be gone a whole week!”
I stood up and gave her a hug.“Don't worry, Mom. I'll be fine.”
“I know you will,” she said, sighing. “It makes me feel better to know that Grandpa Zack went there when he was your age. And he knows the camp director, which is a lucky thing, or we'd never have been able to get you in at such a late date.”
“Uh, yeah. Right. Very lucky.” I turned away, feeling a little guilty about the whole paperwork scam.
“What's this?” said Mom, reaching into my suitcase.
My heart skipped a beat when she pulled out the brochure. “Oh…uh…”
“I didn't realize Grandpa Zack had given you a brochure about the camp.”
“I, uh, I guess I forgot to show it to you.”
Mom opened the folded pamphlet, revealing the colorful photos of the cabins, the campfire pit, the lake with its fleet of canoes and paddleboats, kids riding horses, and a pretty counselor teaching a basket-weaving class. Mom began to read.
I panicked. If she read the part about developing powers, the secret would be out.
“Oh, they have archery,” she said. “That sounds exciting. And arts and crafts. Maybe you can make me a macramé plant holder.”
I leaned over and looked at the brochure.
Huh? It was the same brochure I'd just read, but the words had changed. Instead of superheroes, it said campers, and instead of disaster-control education…archery?
Mom handed me the brochure and went back to the dresser to get an armful of extra socks. I looked at the brochure—before my eyes, all the words went back to the way they'd been. I read on.
A car horn sounded in the driveway.
“That's Grandpa,” I said, closing the suitcase before Mom could pack any more unmentionables. I snatched it up, grabbed my superbackpack, then hurried out of the room and down the stairs with Mom on my heels. My dad was waiting in the front hall, dressed for work.
“Have a good time, kiddo,” he said, giving my ponytail a tug. “Remember…don't get too close to the campfire, always swim with a buddy, and if the cafeteria serves something called mystery meat, don't eat it.”
“Got it, Dad.”
“Maybe I should cancel my Save the Whales meeting and ride to camp with you,” said Mom, wringing her hands.
“Don't do that,” I said. “Really. Those whales need you.”
She smiled, but her eyes were shiny with tears. “Be careful up there in the wilderness,” she said, only half joking.
“I will. See you in a week.”
Outside, I tossed my suitcase into the backseat of the blue convertible and jumped in beside it. From the driver's seat, Gran tooted the horn to my parents, who were waving from the front porch, then took off. Looking at me in the rearview mirror, she grinned.
“How many?” she asked knowingly.
“Twelve pairs!” I said. “Then she threw in an extra bunch.” I explained Mom's ant theory and Gran laughed out loud.
Grandpa chuckled, too. “Only your mother would worry about bugs taking up residence in a pair of bloomers.”
“Poor Maria,” said Gran. “She gets so nervous when it comes to you, Zoe. If she only knew that you were going to be surrounded by superheroes, the protectors of the universe.”
“Tell me more about Camp Courageous, Grandpa,” I said, settling into the soft white leather of the backseat.
“Well, for one thing, they have great arts and crafts.”
“Tell her about the Courageous Cup competition,” Gran prompted.
I could see Grandpa Zack blushing.
“Yeah, tell me,” I said. “I just read something about it in the brochure. Sounds like a big deal.”
“It's the most hallowed tradition at Camp
Courageous, a competition to test the campers on what they've learned during their stay. Everyone takes part. The counselors pair up cabins— one boys' cabin with one girls' cabin—into teams. Then the teams are given difficult tasks to accomplish. Whichever team performs the most tasks successfully wins. It's a great honor to be on the winning team.”
“So if everyone takes part, that means you were in the Courageous Cup competition when you went to camp,” I said.
“Yes,” said Grandpa, “I was in it.”
“Don't be so modest, Zack,” said Gran, flicking the turn signal and steering the car onto a narrow dirt road that led into the woods. “Zoe, your grandfather's team won the cup! His name and the names of his teammates are engraved on a giant trophy in the display case in the main lodge.”
“Grandpa, that's so cool!”
“I was twelve years old, just like you, Zoe. The name of my cabin was Valiant, and I had three great cabinmates. Terrific lads. We'd become good friends over the week, and then it was time to prove ourselves in the cup competition, which consists of three separate challenges.”
I laughed. “Challenges? Unless they bring in supervillains for the campers to defeat, I can't imagine anything would be too challenging to a bunch of superkids.”
“You're absolutely right. Which is why the main rule of the Courageous Cup contest is that you can't use your superpowers.”
I almost slid off the seat in surprise. “Huh? I don't get it.”
“The beginning of camp week is about training,” Grandpa explained. “Learning, growing as a superhero, using your powers and improving them.”
“Okay…”
“But even the most powerful heroes in the universe can't succeed unless they understand the meaning of teamwork. Cooperation. That's what the cup contest is all about. When you don't have your superpowers and gadgets at your disposal, you have to rely on teamwork. It's a good lesson for heroes. You'd be surprised at how difficult it is for some of them to put aside their egos and let others lend a hand.”
Gran had turned off the highway and we were driving along rural back roads. The scenery was lush and green and the air was fresh and clean. Finally, Gran turned the car into the gravel parking lot of Camp Courageous.
A man with bushy white hair came rushing over to the car. “Zip, is that you?” he cried.
“Sure is,” said Grandpa. “Zoe, this is a member of the Superhero Federation board of directors. In the summer, he runs Camp Courageous. We used to call him Battlin' Bertram.”
Before I could say nice to meet you, the director flung open the car door and tugged Grandpa out. “Zip, you old rascal, it's great to see you!” He threw his arms around my grandfather and hugged him; then Battlin' Bertram proceeded to lift Zip right over his head…with one hand!
Grandpa laughed.“Well, I see someone's kept up his training!”
“I have to, Zip, old boy, if I'm going to handle these young ones!” He put Grandpa down, then went around to open the car door for Gran.
“Sally, my dear.”
“Nice to see you, Bert. How's Matilda?”
“She's just fine. Running the mess hall these days. She feels it's her sworn duty to make sure these growing heroes get their proper nutrition.”
“Hope she's done away with the mystery meat selection,” Grandpa grumbled through a grin.
“That was her first order of business!” Bertram chuckled.
Grandpa reached into the backseat and got my suitcase while I climbed out with my backpack. “This is Zoe,” he said. “Also known as Kid Zoom. She takes after me.”
“Ah, so I have another speed demon on my hands this year.” Bert shook my hand. “Hello there, Zoe.”
“Nice to meet you, sir.”
“Bertram was one of my teammates the year we won the Courageous Cup,” Grandpa added.
“That's right,” said Bertram. “Make sure you check out the trophy in the display case, Zoe. Maybe your name will appear on it one day, too! Well, I need to head over to the archery field and make sure the targets have been properly laser-proofed. We've got a kid in from New Zealand this summer…shoots laser beams out of his elbows. Great to see you, Zack, Sally.”
Grandpa shook Bertram's hand, and the director walked away.
“I guess I should get going,” I said, glancing across the parking lot; through the trees and cabins, I caught a glimpse of Lake Victory glistening in the sunshine.
“You have a good time, dear,” said Gran, kissing me on the cheek.
Grandpa gave my shoulder a squeeze.“I know you'll make me proud,” he said.
They hopped back into the little blue car; Gran honked the horn, then peeled out in a spray of gravel. As I watched them drive off, I got a funny feeling in the pit of my stomach, as if there were a rock sitting there. It was beginning to dawn on me that I was going to be away from home for a whole week, at a camp where I didn't know a single supersoul. I guess being super doesn't mean you never feel lonely or homesick.
Clutching my suitcase and backpack, I headed in the direction of the cabins.
THE place was crawling with kids. Superkids, that is. Of course, you'd never guess if you didn't know. It really did look just like a regular bunch of campers, decked out in cargo shorts and Camp Courageous T-shirts; some were already in their swimsuits, making their way toward the lake, while others wore sneakers and crisp white shorts and polos, heading for the tennis courts.
I stood nervously in what looked like the center of camp, beside the flagpole, wondering where to go next.
“Hi there,” said a tall, red-haired girl in a STAFF T-shirt. She was wearing a whistle around her neck. Her stick-on name tag said her name was Amanda.
“Looking for your cabin?” she asked.
I nodded.
“Name?”
“Richards. Zoe Richards. Uh, Kid Zoom, if that helps.”
Amanda consulted her clipboard and smiled. “Kid Zoom. You're in cabin Intrepid, which means I'm your counselor.”
“Great.”
Amanda laughed. “We'll see if you think so when training begins.”
I couldn't tell if she was kidding or not. “So, which way to Intrepid?” I asked.
“C'mon.”Amanda put a hand on my shoulder. “I'll walk you there.”
We wound our way down the path to a sturdy-looking little wood cabin. Amanda held the screen door open and I stepped inside to see three girls in various stages of unpacking.
“Hi,” I said, putting my suitcase down.
“Girls, this is Zoe,” said Amanda. “Zoe, this is Melanie, Casey, and Megan.”
We exchanged hellos, and one of the girls—Megan—pointed out which bunk was mine. She was tiny and looked as though she had energy to burn. Her light brown hair was wound into two thick braids and she had dimples in her cheeks.
“When you're done unpacking, Intrepids, come find me by the lake,” said Amanda, making her exit. “We can start planning our strategy for the Courageous Cup.”
Wow, I thought. This competition must be really important! I'd been expecting some icebreaker games or at least a tour of camp or something to start with. For the first time, I began to wonder if I was cup competition material.
A friendly voice interrupted my thoughts. “So, do you have a Super name?”
I turned to Megan, who'd asked the question. “Kid Zoom,” I said. “How about you?”
“I'm still working on it,” she said. “My cousin Mighty Mike, who's my supercoach back home, likes Air Meg, because I'm a flyer. But I'm sorta leaning toward Mega-Megan.”
“Mega-Megan is a great Super name,” I said.
“Yeah, I think it has a nice ring to it.” Megan tossed a pair of pajamas on one of the lower bunks. “Hope you don't mind the top bunk, Zoe. See, since I'm a flyer, I sometimes accidentally levitate in my sleep. Having the top bunk to hold me down will keep me from floating around the room.”
“Top bunk's fine,”I said.“So you can really fly? That's awesome.”
Megan nod
ded.
“My uncle Al is a flyer,” Casey chimed in. Her blond hair fell in soft curls to her shoulders and her eyes were dark brown and friendly. “Maybe you've heard of him? His Super name is Altitude. Anyway, he took me flying once, kind of like a piggyback ride, only in the sky.” She paused, holding back a grin. “I threw up in his hair.”
“Ewww.” Megan laughed. “Poor Uncle Al.”
“Gross,” I agreed.
“Yeah, it was pretty icky,” Casey admitted.
“I'd probably do the same thing,” said Melanie. “I get a little queasy just jumping over tall buildings.”
“I love jumping over tall buildings,” Megan said. “How about you, Zoe?”
“I haven't tried jumping a building yet, but just a few weeks ago I had to leap into a really big tree. It was fun, actually, except the tiger made it a little scary.”
“Tiger?” said Melanie, her crystal blue eyes growing wide.
I gave a little wave. “Long story.”
I opened my suitcase and began to unpack. The first thing I took out was the pink and green bikini Emily had helped me pick out at the mall.
“Ooooh, cute swimsuit,”said Casey.“I forgot to pack my bikini. I only brought a one-piece.” She held up a shimmery blue bathing suit.
“Great color,”I said.“And I like the way the straps cross in back.”
“Thanks. I like it because it's glittery. And it's also indestructible.”
“Cool,” said Melanie. She was the tallest of the four of us. Her straight brown hair reached all the way to her waist.“By the way, did anybody notice that really cute counselor? The blond one with the shaggy haircut. He's a total hottie.”
“That's Simon,” Casey said. “I checked out his name tag. And when he told me how to find the cabin, he had an English accent.”
“I love English accents,” said Megan in a dreamy voice.
“Me too,” said Melanie; she was removing a superhot pair of sunglasses from her duffel bag and placing them on the dresser closest to her bed.
“I like your shades,” I said.
“They're okay,” said Melanie. “I mean, I'm not really into wearing sunglasses, but I don't have a choice. Sometimes I accidentally melt things with my eyes.”