How can you dock me days when I've been teaching for years?
“Mrs. Flam? Mrs. Flam! Oh, good, there you are!”
It was past 11 p.m., but the head staff headquarters was buzzing when a counselor — I think she’s from Bunk Hei, but I’m not sure — burst in. “A camper just threw up all over the place and now she won’t stop crying, can you come?”
I was already on my feet. “Sure.” Poor kid, it’s awful being sick in camp. If I could give her some mothering and help the counselor figure out the linens and the mess and whatever, everything would calm down and hopefully they’d still get something of a night’s sleep.
The radio clipped onto my skirt crackled. “Mrs. Flam? Are you there?”
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