1990

She lay quietly in her creaky bunk staring at the cracks in the wooden ceiling. Her pale foot was dangling off the side of the bed to help regulate her temperature. The soft breeze from the lake below tickled her toes and the sound of crickets chirping loudly echoed in her ears.

She knew that no one was asleep. They were all lying still, listening for sound they had come to dread and yet anticipate. She felt reassured knowing that they were all lying in wait together.

That feeling of giddy fear and the rush of energy that encouraged her tiny legs to run was not new. She expected the attack. Every night. There were rumors of plans. Rumors of elaborate battle scenarios being mapped out by the enemy. But tonight, they would be prepared.

With quiet determination, they'd passed the word from girl to girl. They'd saved their ammunition from their daily activities. Sticky marshmallows, stinky old eggs, empty soda cans, miniature tubes of toothpaste, fishing line, and pine cones. Hundreds of pine cones. The back door was the expected place of entry. The empty soda cans were strung across the entry way as the alarm. Their flip-flops were beside their beds, ready for action.

Then it came, after what seemed like hours. The clumsy shuffle of the enemy through the pine needles behind the cabin. She could hear whispered commands and stifled laughter. She grimaced disapprovingly at the enemy's lack of stealth. "We might as well be attacked by a herd of elephants..." she whispered to herself. She swung her feet over the edge and silently slid to the floor below. Most of the girls were already tip-toeing to their posts. 10 at the back, 5 at the front... Pine cones ready.

The back door creaked open and the soda cans gently clinked a warning. "Shit", someone whispered outside. Then it happened. The bellowing attack. The girls poured out of the cabin flailing pine cones in every direction. Eggs were exploding on the side of the building. Shaving cream by the handful was being lobbed from behind the trees, peanut m & m's were being shot from make-shift sling-shots. She found a hiding place behind the back porch and popped up like a prairie dog to fling marshmallows and pine cones indiscriminately at the pursuing enemy. Laughter and squeals of terror echoed through the night.

The street lamps suddenly switched on. Children froze. "RETREEEEEAT!" There was thunderous trampling in both directions. She wiped the shaving cream from her forehead, kicked off her sandals and leaped into bed, and clenched her eyes tightly shut. Her heartbeat was nearly exploding from her chest. Feet stamped up the front steps. The front door swung open violently. "You all have kitchen duty in the morning." The door slammed shut. The footsteps grew dim.

She stifled a giggle. The girls beside her hissed laughter into their pillows. The entire cabin shook with squelched hysteria. Soon the gentle breeze from the lake dried the sticky bits of shaving cream and egg on their legs and faces and the night swallowed their adrenaline. She drifted off to sleep planning ways to defend their fortress from the enemy.