Marygrove Camp

I’m jolted from my sleep by the persistent prodding of my ribs. As my eyes slowly adjust to the little light in the cabin, I make out the form of my little sister.

“Wake up, I need to go to the washroom”, she whispers. I can’t believe she’s come all the way over from her cabin to get me to take her.

The washrooms are in a separate building, behind the row of cabins at the girl’s camp. I have been coming to the camp for the past few years. This is my sister’s first time at camp and her greatest fear in the washroom. I slowly get up and try and find my running shoes. They’re damp and I can feel the grit of sand between my toes from our trek down to the beach earlier that evening.

We step outside the cabin and I shudder when the cool air hits me. My summer pj’s are no match for the breeze in the wooded camp. We start to walk past the outdoor sinks with rows of faucets where we brush our teeth and attempt to wash up before breakfast each day.

We follow the cement sidewalk that leads to the washroom building and my sister’s hand tightens its grip in mine. She’s terrified, I know, but she really needs to go to the washroom. A few days ago when my cabin went on an overnight sleep over in a tent, my sister actually went 24 hours without using the washroom. I can’t remember her ever being so happy to see me as she was that day.

My sister thinks I’m brave but the truth is I’m just as afraid as she is, but I must not show it. She’s my responsibility while we are at camp and I want to keep her safe.

We get to the washroom, I pull on the screen door and it creaks loudly. It is totally dark inside and I know where the light switch is, but I hesitate. This is the part that’s terrifying. If we could find our way in and out in the dark then maybe we could pretend that they’re not there.

The secret is to get in and out as quickly as possible and just not look at the walls of the washroom stalls. I turn the light on and it takes a few seconds for my eyes to adjust. I see them then, on the walls, just sitting there, Daddy long leg spiders. My sister shudders and I tell her to just run and sit and keep the door open. “Just look at me and not the walls”, I remind her. She hurriedly goes to the washroom and we run out, my sister giggling at the fact that she wasn’t devoured by the spiders. At least not this time.

I get her back to her cabin and go back to mine. I’m just about to drift off to sleep when I realize I need to go to the washroom. For the second time that night, I climb off the bunk bed trying not to wake everyone in the cabin. Attached to our cabin is a separate room where our counsellors sleep. I knock on their door and I hear one of them shuffle to the door.

“What’s the matter?” she whispers as she rubs the sleep from her eyes.

“I need to go to the washroom”, I quietly answer. She picks up a flashlight and takes my hand as tells me not to be afraid as we head out down the path. If feels good to have someone braver when you have to go to the washroom at camp.