Sunday 21 July 2013

Holiday from Hell: Camp in Hell

 “ Grary, have packed up your stuff yet?”,cried Mom

“Mom, I just SAID I am NOT COMING” I replied, quite agitated.

“Oh, come on Bibs. A little of nature’s touch is all you need. Squirrels, raccoons, hummingbirds, macaws and many more!” said Dad.

“Including, snakes, poison ivy, bugs, mice and no-good-dirty-rotten-food-stealing animals, too!”

“That’s it, Mr. Grary Bilbo Jones. You’re coming with us whether you like it or not” replied Mom, her tone rising. When Mom used a “Mr.” infront of my full name, it clearly means that she is fuming. “Look at your sister! Awwwww! Sweet as an angel!”

I turned around to see my sister, Maris Filbo Jones. She almost had a golden halo around her head and her eyes were growing large and her mouth curled into an ethereal smile. I always think that she does that just to make herself look all cute and innocent and very immaculate. But I could easily see out of the corner of her eyes that she was giving me a very smug and sly look. I gave a long devastated sigh. This was going to be catastrophic.

Dad had planned a camping ‘adventure’ because he thought that we weren’t spending ‘quality time together as a family’.  Dad worked as a financial manager and never had enough time to spend with his family. Mom worked as a librarian in a local library and I, aged 13 and Maris, aged 10 went to different schools. So, we weren’t exactly meeting each other until the weekends came around.

Soon, we were loading our camping tents and other camping gear into our red car. According to me, the worst part of the trip to the camping site was that Dad and Mom made me and Maris  sing along with them to (I mean SING) ‘OLD MCDONALD HAD A FARM’!  I hope it doesn’t get any worse! Unfortunately, it did get a lot worse.

Searching for a suitable campsite was another story. We searched for almost an hour until we finally stuck to a tiny clearing near an enormous lake. The land was grassy and it sloped towards the lake where it formed some kind of short, natural rock jetty. A large piece of solid wood that seemed old but quite steady drifted close to the jetty.

Mom suggested the tent be put up in the piece of drifting wood as she particularly disliked clammy, damp earth. The soil was damp but warm enough but Mom was dramatizing it (the Oscar award is a piece of cake for her).
Putting up the tent was a huge problem too. First, Dad forgot to bring one of the poles for the tent so we had to make do with a wooden stick. (How in the world can some wooden stick be equal to a pole and bear the weight of the tent?) Second, Maris wanted to help us badly but she doesn't know a thing about camping so she nailed the nails at the wrong place. Third, Mom forgot her tablets and she basically can’t live without her tablets so Dad had to drive all the way to the nearest store to buy one (the nearest one took around half-an-hour by car). Finally when everything was done, a fat groundhog came noiselessly and nibbled at the wooden stick and by the time we were aware of what was happening, it had chunked through the wood, and once more the tent collapsed. We had to put it up for a second time, unfortunately, with some trouble. I was wary about the whole trip after all that had happened. Dad somehow figured that out and tried to convince me by telling its all part of the adventure and is nature’s play.

Soon, twilight fell and Mom thought it would be good to light a campfire and she made Fibs (that’s Maris’s pet name) and me go into the woods and collect some firewood. She gave us two torches and when we entered the almost dark woods, we were in one piece and when we came out, we came in a couple of pieces. You see, me and Fibs don’t have brother-sister relationship. It’s more like Voldemort-Harry Potter relationship. Send us anywhere alone, and we come back scratched and wounded meaning that we had a fierce battle. That’s exactly what happened when went to collect firewood. Mom learned her lesson and so she and Fibs went into the forest to collect firewood. Upon their return, we tried to light a fire only to find the matchsticks damp. So we had to use the torches. Worse, Dad wanted to have a campfire sing-along and so we sang ‘HUMPTY DUMPTY SAT ON A WALL!!’ Boy, I hope this doesn't get any worse. But it did.

It was raining cats and dogs that night and some good-for-nothing animal had poked a hole on the roof of our tent and I don’t why it did it but the hole was right on top of my head so I was soaked to the skin by the time the sun woke up.
“Aieeeeeeeeee!” SPLASH! “Help, help”

Those were the words that woke me up the next day on which I was hoping the camping trip would ‘turn over a new leaf’. But it looks like it was too much to hope for. My eyes fluttered open and I was staring at the roof of the orange tent. Again, I heard that helpless shout. I threw back the extra blankets, scrambled out of my sleeping bag, crawled out of the tent and….stopped dead. I was dumbstruck. The wooden plank was surrounded by water. The grassy land and the rock jetty seemed far away and I felt like I was floating? Floating? I looked around. Oh my goodness! The wooden plank was floating. My face went slack. We were floating on the lake. Of course, we forgot to tie the wooden piece to the jetty! What about the splash? I looked around the wooden plank and saw a tiny brunette head bobbing up and down. Blood drained from me face and I stood rooted to the ground as realization dawned over me. That little brunette head was no one but my awful good-for-nothing kin. My stomach turned to ice as I quickly hurried inside the tent to find my parents only to find them gone. Oh great! I always told them that morning walks may be good for health but not for situations like these.

I ran back outside to still find her head bobbing but with less energy now. I had a quick thought. What would my mother do? She’d probably hold her dress up in her thumb and index fingers and corner up and say a high pitched ‘aaaaaaa’. What about dad? He’d say “its nature’s play. Let her learn swimming”. What about me? Well, I know swimming a little bit. Chances of surviving are like 40%. Chances of getting eaten by the fishes are like 70%.

I checked for the brunette head again. Gone! No other go, I dived in after her.  The water felt cool. If it weren’t for this situation, I would’ve loved to waddle in the shallower parts of the lake. I dismissed the idea out of my head and doggy-paddled faster to reach her. Luckily, she wasn’t too deep in the water so I took a deep breath and dipped inside the water. I couldn’t see inside the water so I tried to feel where she was and successfully, I caught her slender arms. I hauled her up and pushed her to the surface and followed after her in triumph.
I heaved her onto the wooden board and stared at her anxiously, my heart slamming against my rib cage. I wasn’t too keen on blowing air into her mouth. Fortunately, she spluttered, coughed and her eyes slowly fluttered open. She stared blankly at me.

I didn’t know what to do. I can’t or I don’t want to embrace her and I certainly can’t scold her (she’d tell mom and mom would reprimand me) so I blankly asked,

“What on earth were you doing in that lake?”

“I um… actually… I sleepwalked into the lake” she replied, a little wary of the answer.

I was flabbergasted. Sleepwalked into the lake? I mean I knew she sleepwalks but I never knew it could lead to this. I was getting a little annoyed when someone bellowed. I turned around to see Dad and Mom who were wearing huge smiles on their faces.

“Now now now. Looks like you guys have been taking a small dip in the lake”, said Dad, smiling broadly.


Dip in the lake? Me and my sister exchanged looks. Oh my god! This doesn't seem to go very good! 

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