Page 89 of Give Me a Sign
“Time to hand over the reins. Plus, Ethan’s more than ready to take over.” Gary seems nonchalant about it.
Ethan knows Gray Wolf inside and out. He’s been a camper since he was six, a junior counselor, a senior counselor, and now the assistant director. He deserves it, and we’ll have our first ever disabled director.
“I’m sure he’s excited,” I say. “We’ll miss you, though!”
“I’ll find a way to stop by and see how all the renovations are looking. I’m excited for you all.” Gary beams at me. “Any questions about the gig?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” I wasn’t expecting this conversation right now.
Gary glances at his papers again, then smiles back at me.“If you think of any, just let me know. Ethan will be in touch with the particulars next spring.”
“Do I still have to interview, or...”
“This was the interview. I’ve already talked it over with Ethan. He’ll be thrilled to know you’re on board.”
“Awesome.”
“Now, do you mind sending Phoebe my way? I’ve got a question for her as well.”
I weave through some of the younger kids running around and head back to where Phoebe is waiting for me at the benches. “Hey, so, Gary has something to ask you.”
“Oh, do you think it’s about next summer?” She’s already shaking with excitement.
“Possibly. Ethan asked me a while ago if you’d be interested. Deep breaths,” I say, reaching out to steady her shoulders. “Want me to guide you over?”
“He’s just right there?” She nods ahead, unfolding her cane. “I’m on it.”
I wait patiently while Phoebe walks over and chats with Gary for a few minutes. She’s beaming when she hurries back. “All right! You’re looking at next year’s junior counselor!”
“Yes!” I crash into her with a hug. “They better assign you to my group.”
I reapply some bug spray before heading to my second-to-last on-duty shift of the summer. When I arrive at the firepit, Isaac’s already got a flame going. He’s sitting on the rocks, poking the kindling with a long stick.
“You look happy,” he signs as I walk over.
“I got some good n-e-w-s earlier.” I toss my backpack on the top of the picnic table, not caring that the surface is still damp from a light smattering of afternoon rain.
“Can spell n-e-w-s, or similar to ‘inform,’ ” he signs for me, bringing his folded hands from near his head to extended open palms. “What is it?”
“Guess who’s a senior counselor next summer?”
“You are?”
“Yes,” I sign, doing a little dance as I walk over to him, wearing his hoodie, putting my arms up and flapping the sleeves around with excitement.
“That’s awesome! I’m happy for you.” He offers a hand to help me take a seat on the rocks beside him. My feet are warm by the flames.
“What about you?” I ask, looking up at him.
“What about me?” he signs, bobbing his head. “I’m excited!”
“Are you coming back?”
He tosses more sticks into the fire. “I can’t.”
I expected this response, but that doesn’t make it easier to digest. “Why?” I hold the sign for a few seconds, even though I have a good guess. But if he came back for the rest of this year, why wouldn’t he want to come back for next summer? “We could be together all summer again.”
“I’ve got baseball,” he signs. “For college. It was already hard to make this year work.”
