Fifteen minutes later, I was on the narrow path leading to the mess hall, on my way to find Amy, when I saw Rick exit the building from a side door.
“How did you sleep?” he asked as a greeting.
“Like a popsicle,” I quipped, feeling a little more comfortable around him after the previous night’s activities.
“Yeah, it was colder than a witch’s ti...” he started to say. “I mean, it was a bit frigid last night,” he corrected, looking contrite.
“Rick, you don’t have to curb your language around me. Believe me, I’m no lightweight.”
“It’s all about manners. It’s been a while since I’ve had any kind of a real conversation with a girl. Usually, Louise deals with the girls, while I handle the guys. The language gap between guys and girls is pretty significant,” he said laughing.
“Ha, you must not know Amy as well as I thought,” I said giggling.
"You got me there, but she’s a different sort altogether," he said smiling at me. “So, your mom called last night at almost midnight,” he said, shifting gears as he pulled the door open for me.
“Oh?” I said, feeling guilty for not calling her. I had every intention to call her, but the crappy cell service didn’t improve anywhere in the camp. Short of climbing one of the tall trees, I had pretty much resigned myself to the fact that I was in the place where cell phones go to die.
“She was making sure you got here all right. She sounded very sad,” he added.
“Aren’t you mad that she never told you?” I asked, lowering my voice as we sat at the same round table from the night before.
“I was stark raving pissed at first, but now I’m just grateful she finally did tell me. I don’t want the short time we have together to be ruined over anger. I want to get to know the person you are,” he said, rising from the table to head to the kitchen.
I sat back in my chair while I pondered his words.
“This isn’t a restaurant, sweetheart,” a condescending voice said behind me.
“What?” I asked, wondering what I had missed.
“We all work together here,” Mason said, looking at me with mild disgust. “It’s called teamwork,” he added, emphasizing the word. “No one’s going to wait on you.”
“Did I ask you to wait on me?” I asked, feeling my blood start to boil. “Do you order training manuals on how to be an asshole, or does it just come naturally?” I asked, pushing myself back from the table and stomping off to the kitchen.
I was still fuming when I reached the refrigerator where Amy was pulling out several different beverages.
“Whoa, who got your panties in a bunch?” she asked, taking in my anger.
“Mason,” I said, dragging out his name with disgust. “I don’t know what the frick his problem is.” I complained, grabbing the pitcher of milk in one hand and the orange juice with the other.
“I know, right? I totally picked up on his AMS last night. What was the deal with that?”
“AMS?” I asked.
“Arrogant Male Syndrome,” she answered seriously, like it was a legitimate diagnosis.
I couldn’t help laughing. “That’s classic, and fits him to a T.”
“Either he has serious issues sharing daddy with you, or he’s holding back some repressed hormones. Because let’s face it, shy of pulling your hair or sticking a frog down your shirt, he seems to be crushing on you or something,” she whispered as we approached the table.
I snorted in the most unladylike fashion. “It’d have to be option number one,” I said out of the corner of my mouth.
“Oh sure, because you’re not attractive or anything,” she mouthed between giggles as she started loading up her plate.
The other occupants at the table looked at us curiously, but I shrugged my shoulders like I didn’t have a clue.
As I sat eating, I observed the dynamics of the group much like I had the night before. Everyone was nice enough to include me in their conversations, but I still couldn't help feeling like the odd man out. The majority of them had been coming to camp Allies for years. They all seemed to have a million stories of previous years and escapades they had witnessed. I was tempted to clear out my ears when they implied that Mason was the biggest prankster the camp had ever seen. It seemed hard to believe that Mr. Permanent Scowl, who seemed to have a problem with my very existence, had a fun side to him.
Once breakfast was over, Louise shooed us out so she could clean the kitchen and we could start our training. I groaned at the thought. I’d always loved swimming and going to the beach, but I’ve never taken any kind of CPR class. The idea of giving mouth-to-mouth to a stranger always kind of grossed me out. I knew that sounded selfish, considering it was crucial to saving someone’s life, but I’d always been a firm believer that the only mouth-to-mouth I wanted to do was in the form of kissing.
Rick led our group out to the clearing between all the cabins and the mess hall. I sat on a bench by the fire pit with Amy while Mason and Travis unloaded the CPR gear. I was relieved when I saw them pull out the lifelike CPR dummy.
At least we wouldn’t have to practice on each other.
“All right, I know all of you with the exception of Kimberly have taken CPR before. The state requires you take a refresher course every two years. I require that you take it every year. Saving a life is no joking matter. We’ve been lucky over the years, but that does not mean an accident can’t happen,” Rick said, placing the dummy on one of the benches. “I’m going to go over the basic moves and then all of you will pair up and go through the maneuvers.”
My stomach dropped at his words. I looked around horrified, expecting everyone to share my dismay, but no one else seemed surprised. Great, I was the only prude in the whole group.
“Okay, the important thing to remember is that any CPR is better than no CPR. There has always been a required regiment cycle that they felt needed to be mastered, but over the years they’ve also realized that any help is better than nothing. So, the first thing you do when you see someone laying unconscious is to see if they’re breathing. You shake them and ask if they are all right. If you get no response and are not alone, you tell the other person to call 911, while you tilt the victims head back like this,” he said, using his finger to tilt the head back of the practice dummy. “Once their head is tilted back, you rest your hands on this soft spot right below the ribs. Place your hands over each other, linking your fingers like this,” he said, holding up his linked hands so we could see. “It’s three pushes down and then a breath. When you’re doing the breath, you pinch the victim’s nose closed like this, and blow into their mouth once, and then do three more pushes on their stomach. You repeat these steps until help arrives. If you run out of steam and are not alone, switch off so that you can provide the best care possible. Does anyone have any questions?” he asked, looking directly at me.
I shook my head. I was surprised it was so simple.
“All right. Mason, why don’t we let you give an example?” Rick asked.
“Sure thing,” Mason answered, sauntering over to where Rick stood.