When Needed Part 3
Mar. 10th, 2011 10:56 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
drownedinlight“So, you still feel like crap?” Maris asked, as Arcadia held the phone aloft to her ear. It was later in the evening and the rest of her family was asleep. Arcadia sat on her own bed, dressed in nigh clothes, one foot pulled up to the thigh. “Even after you told them and they were reassuring and everything went like you thought it would, and everything was okay?”
“I told you it wasn’t that I hadn’t told them,” she said. “It’s something else. Something I can’t quite put my finger on. And if it makes you feel any better, you were kind of right. I don’t feel as crappy as before, but it’s like I’ve just started a marathon, you know? I still have twenty-two more miles to go.”
“Yeah, I think I get it. And you’re not supposed to be making me feel better.” Maris paused. “What do you think it is that you need to do, Arcadia?”
“That’s why I called you, I just can’t figure out what would make me feel better about this whole thing. Except…”
“Except what?”
“You know how I figured this whole thing out because I look nothing like my parents?”
“Yeah…”
“Maybe it’s the whole thing of not knowing where I came from,” she said. “Maybe I should go looking for my birth family.”
“That’s a very fine line to tread, Cadia. I mean didn’t you just tell your parents that you didn’t mind being adopted?”
“I know and I thought that I didn’t. And I love them, and I’m not at all ungrateful for what they did, it’s just…I’m still different from my family.”
“Well everybody’s different from their family.”
“Yeah, but Maris, when you look in the mirror, you can see your parents in your face, can’t you?”
“…yeah. Look, Arcadia, I won’t talk you out of this if you think it’s going to make you feel better, but think it over first. Give it some time before you actually begin the search for where you came from, to make sure it’s absolutely what you want.”
“Yeah, that does make some sense,” Arcadia said. “All right, hey, it’s late, and we have school tomorrow.”
“Rah, School,” Maris spat. “Can it be summer already?”
“I thought you were dreading summer, and Greece and everything,” Arcadia reminded her.
“I’m not totally dreading Greece, but that’s another story. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
“Bye Maris.” Arcadia clicked the off button on the phone, and lay back on her bed. She reached for her lamp, clicking off the light, and closed her eyes. She would give it until Maris left for Greece—almost three weeks from now. In the mean time she would focus on finals and what she would do over the break, but if she didn’t feel any better by the time she was alone for the summer, she would begin the search for where she came from.
The next two weeks passed dragged a little bit, but Arcadia thought that might be for the regular reasons, such as all the review in her classes to prepare for finals. She counted herself lucky that she had taken the AP exam for a few of her classes almost a month ago so now she had a few less tests to take. But when she came out of her last final, on the last day of school, she felt flush and more than ready for summer, and to count down the days to her deadline.
By the end of the third week, when she got up early on Saturday to see Maris off at the airport, Arcadia felt hyper, more than ready to begin looking into records and trying to find her birth parents.
“Well, here I come, Greece,” Maris said when they reached the security check part of the airport. She had said good-bye to her parents after checking her luggage, but Arcadia had decided to see her off through her first check point.“I would ask you to come through with me, but I won’t put you through taking off your shoes and everything.”
“Thanks,” Arcadia said with a laugh. They reached out at the same time to hug one another.
“I’ll write you as soon as I get settled, so you’ll have an address to send all of your summer escapades to,” Maris promised.
“I doubt I’ll be escapading very much why working at a youth camp,” Arcadia said. “But I’ll write you about what I’m doing.”
“Good, because I expect a letter every week. Especially if you find out anything about your birth family or meet any cute boys.” Arcadia pulled away and looked at her friend.
“How did you know I was going to look for them?” she asked.
“Well, A. I am your best friend, so I should hope I know when you’re going to do something a little crazy, and B. I just know things.”
“Oh, do you?”
“Yep, that’s how I know you’re going to meet a tall dark stranger this summer and fall madly in love with him.” They both grinned at the thought and reached for one last hug. “Be good, Cadia, and don’t get into too much trouble.”
“I will and I won’t. You be good for the relations, and learn how to do all kind of crazy blacksmith things and make me some baklava.”
“I will.” They pulled away, and Maris moved forward in line to go through airport security. Arcadia waved good-bye to her friend, before returning to Maris’ parents for the ride home.
The second week of summer was filled with a little more chaos than Arcadia would have expected, especially when she reported for her first day as a youth camp counselor. The first day was really an orientation, but one they would be paid for, so Arcadia counted it as work. Her mother loaned her the car to drive up to the camp, but said they would need to discuss buying one for her, especially since she had a job she needed to drive to this summer.
When she arrived at the camp, following the signs to where counselor orientation would be, she found a woman sitting at a white table, just outside of the mess hall. The table was filled with papers and quite a few plastic covered paper name tags.
“Good morning,” she greeted.
“Name please?” the woman said before taking a large gulp of coffee.
“Arcadia Savage.” The woman, whose name tag marked her as Denise, scanned down a list beginning with last names.
“You said your name is Arcadia?” she asked.
“Yes,” Arcadia replied. “Why?”
“We have you entered under another name.” She selected one of the name tags laid out on the table, and pulled the paper from its plastic covering and wrote out “Arcadia Savage, counselor, ages 9-12.” “This is only for today,” said Denise, as she handed it over, “Since everyone’s getting photo IDs made at orientation. Just let Mike, or whoever is making the IDs that there was a mistake on the name sheets and you should be fine.” Arcadia took the badge and pulled over her head, taking her hair out of the string as she did. “By the way, do you have a hair tie?”
“No, sorry.” Denise dug in her pockets and handed one over.
“You’ll want to keep your hair pulled back as long as you work here. Anyway, you can go on into the mess hall. David, the camp director, will explain things from there.” Arcadia walked toward the mess hall, while simultaneously wrapping the band around her long, red locks.
There were approximately fifteen other people already occupying the mess hall, some going through a line of tables, headed by a tall, tan blonde man.
“Hi…Arcadia,” he said, glancing at her name tag. “I’m David. Was something wrong with your name tag?” He offered out his hand, which she took firmly.
“You had me written down as someone else, apparently,” she said.
“All right cool, just tell Steve when he takes your picture for your real ID badge. Now, I just need you to go down this line and make sure we have all of your particulars, and then you can take your picture and sit with everyone else, and we’ll start a quick orientation before we’ll show you new counselors around the camp.”
The line only served to tell Arcadia that she was one of the most responsible people applying for this job, for she had already indicated that she was CPR certified, had her background check done, and had signed a summer contract with the camp. She was also one of the most qualified as she had hiked the surrounding terrain quite a bit, rode horseback, did archery, had her lifeguard certification, and even knew how to do bit of wall climbing.
“Your parents wouldn’t be interested in sending you to college, would they?” the counselor at the last table joked as she checked off most of the boxes.
“That and they didn’t like me and my brother sitting around the house all summer,” she said. She took her picture with Steve, and took a seat in a cluster of chairs standing before a make shift stage.
No sooner had Arcadia done so, did someone sit down next to her.
“Hi, I’m Marlowe Sheppard,” he said, holding out his hand. Arcadia shook for the second time, and felt her hand strain.
“Arcadia Savage.”
“I noticed we have the same age group, so we’ll probably be paired a lot together. And great name by the way.”
“Marlowe’s a pretty great name too. Kipp Marlowe by any chance?” she asked. He grinned.
“Maybe; my dad’s kind of a literature nut, especially the almost obscure stuff. But he swears that he just saw it one day and suggested it to my mom for when I was born. Personally, I don’t believe him.” He said his last sentence in a stage whisper, causing Arcadia to laugh. “So, how about Arcadia? Are your parents Greek or fans of the Renaisannce?”
“No, actually I didn’t even know it was Greek until my friend, Maris’, parents told me. They said they have no idea where they got the name. My mom thinks she might have seen it on a sign somewhere and thought it would have made a pretty girl’s name. When they adopted me they said it just fit. Arcadia Maeve Savage.”
“Pretty,” he said. There was a moment of silence between the two of them, and Arcadia pulled the elastic band from her hair, and began twisting it into a braid. “So I start at South Wood High School in the fall, do you go there.”
“Yeah—it’s a pretty small town we live in, or suburb I guess off of the big down town area, anyway, almost every one east of the big city goes there. I can walk there from my house actually. So are you senior this fall?”
“Yep, and we just moved into town, so that’s why you haven’t seen me around. What about you?”
“Senior, though I’ve pretty much lived here all my life.”
“So, what do you do around here for fun?” Arcadia shrugged.
“Well, my friends and I aren’t party animals or anything. Mostly we just hang out—watch a movie, go down town if we feel like it. If we’re really out for a wild night, we go bowling or have sword fights in someone’s back yard.”
“Sword fights?” Marlowe asked, his face wrinkling up in something Arcadia could only describe as confusion.
“Not with real steal or anything,” she said. “But with wooden practice swords.” She slipped the band around and around the end of her braid. “Why, what do you like to do for fun?” He shrugged, sliding down into his seat a little.
“Mostly the same. Sometimes we would have small parties, but there was never any booze. My Dad’s kind of serious about me studying too; I could barely convince him to let me take this job.” Arcadia opened her mouth, but she saw David moving to the front of the chairs.
“All right everyone,” he said. “If you would gather around, we’ll just go over the rules and expectations for the counselors at camp and then take you through a walking tour.”
3/10/11 WC: 2048
Piece WC: 5402
Project WC: 24618
Still Reading: Gender Dilemmas in Children's Fiction by Kerry Mallan
“I told you it wasn’t that I hadn’t told them,” she said. “It’s something else. Something I can’t quite put my finger on. And if it makes you feel any better, you were kind of right. I don’t feel as crappy as before, but it’s like I’ve just started a marathon, you know? I still have twenty-two more miles to go.”
“Yeah, I think I get it. And you’re not supposed to be making me feel better.” Maris paused. “What do you think it is that you need to do, Arcadia?”
“That’s why I called you, I just can’t figure out what would make me feel better about this whole thing. Except…”
“Except what?”
“You know how I figured this whole thing out because I look nothing like my parents?”
“Yeah…”
“Maybe it’s the whole thing of not knowing where I came from,” she said. “Maybe I should go looking for my birth family.”
“That’s a very fine line to tread, Cadia. I mean didn’t you just tell your parents that you didn’t mind being adopted?”
“I know and I thought that I didn’t. And I love them, and I’m not at all ungrateful for what they did, it’s just…I’m still different from my family.”
“Well everybody’s different from their family.”
“Yeah, but Maris, when you look in the mirror, you can see your parents in your face, can’t you?”
“…yeah. Look, Arcadia, I won’t talk you out of this if you think it’s going to make you feel better, but think it over first. Give it some time before you actually begin the search for where you came from, to make sure it’s absolutely what you want.”
“Yeah, that does make some sense,” Arcadia said. “All right, hey, it’s late, and we have school tomorrow.”
“Rah, School,” Maris spat. “Can it be summer already?”
“I thought you were dreading summer, and Greece and everything,” Arcadia reminded her.
“I’m not totally dreading Greece, but that’s another story. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
“Bye Maris.” Arcadia clicked the off button on the phone, and lay back on her bed. She reached for her lamp, clicking off the light, and closed her eyes. She would give it until Maris left for Greece—almost three weeks from now. In the mean time she would focus on finals and what she would do over the break, but if she didn’t feel any better by the time she was alone for the summer, she would begin the search for where she came from.
The next two weeks passed dragged a little bit, but Arcadia thought that might be for the regular reasons, such as all the review in her classes to prepare for finals. She counted herself lucky that she had taken the AP exam for a few of her classes almost a month ago so now she had a few less tests to take. But when she came out of her last final, on the last day of school, she felt flush and more than ready for summer, and to count down the days to her deadline.
By the end of the third week, when she got up early on Saturday to see Maris off at the airport, Arcadia felt hyper, more than ready to begin looking into records and trying to find her birth parents.
“Well, here I come, Greece,” Maris said when they reached the security check part of the airport. She had said good-bye to her parents after checking her luggage, but Arcadia had decided to see her off through her first check point.“I would ask you to come through with me, but I won’t put you through taking off your shoes and everything.”
“Thanks,” Arcadia said with a laugh. They reached out at the same time to hug one another.
“I’ll write you as soon as I get settled, so you’ll have an address to send all of your summer escapades to,” Maris promised.
“I doubt I’ll be escapading very much why working at a youth camp,” Arcadia said. “But I’ll write you about what I’m doing.”
“Good, because I expect a letter every week. Especially if you find out anything about your birth family or meet any cute boys.” Arcadia pulled away and looked at her friend.
“How did you know I was going to look for them?” she asked.
“Well, A. I am your best friend, so I should hope I know when you’re going to do something a little crazy, and B. I just know things.”
“Oh, do you?”
“Yep, that’s how I know you’re going to meet a tall dark stranger this summer and fall madly in love with him.” They both grinned at the thought and reached for one last hug. “Be good, Cadia, and don’t get into too much trouble.”
“I will and I won’t. You be good for the relations, and learn how to do all kind of crazy blacksmith things and make me some baklava.”
“I will.” They pulled away, and Maris moved forward in line to go through airport security. Arcadia waved good-bye to her friend, before returning to Maris’ parents for the ride home.
The second week of summer was filled with a little more chaos than Arcadia would have expected, especially when she reported for her first day as a youth camp counselor. The first day was really an orientation, but one they would be paid for, so Arcadia counted it as work. Her mother loaned her the car to drive up to the camp, but said they would need to discuss buying one for her, especially since she had a job she needed to drive to this summer.
When she arrived at the camp, following the signs to where counselor orientation would be, she found a woman sitting at a white table, just outside of the mess hall. The table was filled with papers and quite a few plastic covered paper name tags.
“Good morning,” she greeted.
“Name please?” the woman said before taking a large gulp of coffee.
“Arcadia Savage.” The woman, whose name tag marked her as Denise, scanned down a list beginning with last names.
“You said your name is Arcadia?” she asked.
“Yes,” Arcadia replied. “Why?”
“We have you entered under another name.” She selected one of the name tags laid out on the table, and pulled the paper from its plastic covering and wrote out “Arcadia Savage, counselor, ages 9-12.” “This is only for today,” said Denise, as she handed it over, “Since everyone’s getting photo IDs made at orientation. Just let Mike, or whoever is making the IDs that there was a mistake on the name sheets and you should be fine.” Arcadia took the badge and pulled over her head, taking her hair out of the string as she did. “By the way, do you have a hair tie?”
“No, sorry.” Denise dug in her pockets and handed one over.
“You’ll want to keep your hair pulled back as long as you work here. Anyway, you can go on into the mess hall. David, the camp director, will explain things from there.” Arcadia walked toward the mess hall, while simultaneously wrapping the band around her long, red locks.
There were approximately fifteen other people already occupying the mess hall, some going through a line of tables, headed by a tall, tan blonde man.
“Hi…Arcadia,” he said, glancing at her name tag. “I’m David. Was something wrong with your name tag?” He offered out his hand, which she took firmly.
“You had me written down as someone else, apparently,” she said.
“All right cool, just tell Steve when he takes your picture for your real ID badge. Now, I just need you to go down this line and make sure we have all of your particulars, and then you can take your picture and sit with everyone else, and we’ll start a quick orientation before we’ll show you new counselors around the camp.”
The line only served to tell Arcadia that she was one of the most responsible people applying for this job, for she had already indicated that she was CPR certified, had her background check done, and had signed a summer contract with the camp. She was also one of the most qualified as she had hiked the surrounding terrain quite a bit, rode horseback, did archery, had her lifeguard certification, and even knew how to do bit of wall climbing.
“Your parents wouldn’t be interested in sending you to college, would they?” the counselor at the last table joked as she checked off most of the boxes.
“That and they didn’t like me and my brother sitting around the house all summer,” she said. She took her picture with Steve, and took a seat in a cluster of chairs standing before a make shift stage.
No sooner had Arcadia done so, did someone sit down next to her.
“Hi, I’m Marlowe Sheppard,” he said, holding out his hand. Arcadia shook for the second time, and felt her hand strain.
“Arcadia Savage.”
“I noticed we have the same age group, so we’ll probably be paired a lot together. And great name by the way.”
“Marlowe’s a pretty great name too. Kipp Marlowe by any chance?” she asked. He grinned.
“Maybe; my dad’s kind of a literature nut, especially the almost obscure stuff. But he swears that he just saw it one day and suggested it to my mom for when I was born. Personally, I don’t believe him.” He said his last sentence in a stage whisper, causing Arcadia to laugh. “So, how about Arcadia? Are your parents Greek or fans of the Renaisannce?”
“No, actually I didn’t even know it was Greek until my friend, Maris’, parents told me. They said they have no idea where they got the name. My mom thinks she might have seen it on a sign somewhere and thought it would have made a pretty girl’s name. When they adopted me they said it just fit. Arcadia Maeve Savage.”
“Pretty,” he said. There was a moment of silence between the two of them, and Arcadia pulled the elastic band from her hair, and began twisting it into a braid. “So I start at South Wood High School in the fall, do you go there.”
“Yeah—it’s a pretty small town we live in, or suburb I guess off of the big down town area, anyway, almost every one east of the big city goes there. I can walk there from my house actually. So are you senior this fall?”
“Yep, and we just moved into town, so that’s why you haven’t seen me around. What about you?”
“Senior, though I’ve pretty much lived here all my life.”
“So, what do you do around here for fun?” Arcadia shrugged.
“Well, my friends and I aren’t party animals or anything. Mostly we just hang out—watch a movie, go down town if we feel like it. If we’re really out for a wild night, we go bowling or have sword fights in someone’s back yard.”
“Sword fights?” Marlowe asked, his face wrinkling up in something Arcadia could only describe as confusion.
“Not with real steal or anything,” she said. “But with wooden practice swords.” She slipped the band around and around the end of her braid. “Why, what do you like to do for fun?” He shrugged, sliding down into his seat a little.
“Mostly the same. Sometimes we would have small parties, but there was never any booze. My Dad’s kind of serious about me studying too; I could barely convince him to let me take this job.” Arcadia opened her mouth, but she saw David moving to the front of the chairs.
“All right everyone,” he said. “If you would gather around, we’ll just go over the rules and expectations for the counselors at camp and then take you through a walking tour.”
3/10/11 WC: 2048
Piece WC: 5402
Project WC: 24618
Still Reading: Gender Dilemmas in Children's Fiction by Kerry Mallan
