Give Me a Sign(75)
“Hey, you’re wearing your hearing aids again,” Natasha says and signs, pointing to my ears.
“Yeah.” I turn slightly toward Isaac but look at the ground in front of his feet.
“You are,” Isaac echoes the observation. “I love the purple.”
I shake my head while Natasha rolls her eyes. “You’re only now noticing?” Natasha asks. “How is that possible?”
She’s about to chastise him further, but Jaden shows up and sits next to her. Bobby and Simone are heading our way, too. I snuggle next to Isaac and share another smile with Natasha across the circle. It’s an “entire staff around the fire” kind of night. I’ve missed these.
Chapter Twenty-eight
The sun hasn’t begun to set yet, but we’re preparing a Friday night campfire down by the lake, complete with ASL story time, most likely Jaden’s retelling of the Deaf King Kong joke. Gary is sitting on the golf cart going through some paperwork and waves me over.
“How’ve you been, Lilah?”
“It’s been a wild summer. But things are good.” Nervously, I stretch out my arms, watching as the cart’s headlights cast a long shadow behind me.
“Glad to hear it. So I’ve been crunching the numbers after our new fundraising success. Any idea what your plans are for next year?”
“Well, not yet.”
“Would you be interested in being a senior counselor?”
“Yes!” I blurt out. “I mean, if I’m allowed. I’m not sure I was exactly the most stellar junior counselor this camp has ever seen. And I’m still working on my ASL.”
“Are you kidding? You’ve done great. Helping put together this fundraising video, for one. That’s some brilliant leadership. We’re not going to let you go that easily. You’ve done great with the campers, especially helping those who also aren’t fluent in sign. I have complete confidence that with a few more summers working here, you’ll be fluent. It’d be impossible not to be. Heck, even Bobby and the lifeguards know a bunch of signs now. Meanwhile, I’ve managed to get by using the staff as interpreters.” He pauses to scratch his beard. “Now, don’t think I’ve forgotten about a certain curfew incident.”
“Never again,” I say, shaking my head solemnly. But I did it! I managed to secure the senior counselor job. Even though it was a long, sometimes difficult summer, I did it.
“The way I see it, you’ll be Ethan’s problem,” Gary says. “I won’t be here next summer.”
“Why not?”
“Time to hand over the reins. Plus, Ethan’s more than ready to take over.” Gary seems nonchalant about it.
Ethan knows Gray Wolf inside and out. He’s been a camper since he was six, a junior counselor, a senior counselor, and now the assistant director. He deserves it, and we’ll have our first ever disabled director.
“I’m sure he’s excited,” I say. “We’ll miss you, though!”
“I’ll find a way to stop by and see how all the renovations are looking. I’m excited for you all.” Gary beams at me. “Any questions about the gig?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” I wasn’t expecting this conversation right now.
Gary glances at his papers again, then smiles back at me. “If you think of any, just let me know. Ethan will be in touch with the particulars next spring.”
“Do I still have to interview, or . . .”
“This was the interview. I’ve already talked it over with Ethan. He’ll be thrilled to know you’re on board.”
“Awesome.”
“Now, do you mind sending Phoebe my way? I’ve got a question for her as well.”
I weave through some of the younger kids running around and head back to where Phoebe is waiting for me at the benches. “Hey, so, Gary has something to ask you.”
“Oh, do you think it’s about next summer?” She’s already shaking with excitement.
“Possibly. Ethan asked me a while ago if you’d be interested. Deep breaths,” I say, reaching out to steady her shoulders. “Want me to guide you over?”
“He’s just right there?” She nods ahead, unfolding her cane. “I’m on it.”
I wait patiently while Phoebe walks over and chats with Gary for a few minutes. She’s beaming when she hurries back. “All right! You’re looking at next year’s junior counselor!”
“Yes!” I crash into her with a hug. “They better assign you to my group.”
* * *
I reapply some bug spray before heading to my second-to-last on-duty shift of the summer. When I arrive at the firepit, Isaac’s already got a flame going. He’s sitting on the rocks, poking the kindling with a long stick.
“You look happy,” he signs as I walk over.
“I got some good n-e-w-s earlier.” I toss my backpack on the top of the picnic table, not caring that the surface is still damp from a light smattering of afternoon rain.
“Can spell n-e-w-s, or similar to ‘inform,’？” he signs for me, bringing his folded hands from near his head to extended open palms. “What is it?”
“Guess who’s a senior counselor next summer?”
“You are?”