“Bob says bad campers should experience the ‘natural consequences’ of our actions. So, he asks me, ‘What is the natural consequence of a skit so inappropriate that it turns visiting Philistines—however briefly—into pillars of salt?’ I say social disapproval. He says, ‘Not enough.’” She waggles her finger like a disapproving kindergarten teacher. Like Mr. Bob. “So I suggest zero points for Talent in the inter-cabin competition. Not enough. So maybe zero points for Camp Spirit, I say. Well, turns out nothing’s enough. We’re so far ahead in cabin cleanup that we’re unbeatable, even without talent or spirit. So Fearless Leader is disqualifying us all together.”

Her flip tone goes cold. “Around here, comrades, the natural consequence of whatever we do is that they do whatever they want. They make the rules. They decide who wins and who loses. They have the power—”

Sue interrupts. “Understand this. What you did embarrassed Carole and me. We looked like we didn’t know what was going on in our own cabin. In front of all those visitors, too. This camp wouldn’t be here without them, or without the telethon. It was cruel.”

“You can’t be serious!” Sara sputters. “Cruel?”

Carole sinks down on one of the cots. “Yes, in a way, I have to agree. They felt so good about this camp. We all did. And now? What should we think? How should we feel? It is—painful—you know?”

Last night I wanted to inflict pain. Now I can barely remember why. How could I want to hurt Carole? Or Sue? How could any of us?

“Look. I can’t worry about the Jaycees or that red-faced Grand Benefactor or any of you. If it hurt, fine. That means we got heard. But it doesn’t matter, really. The show wasn’t for y’all. It was for us. I know we’re supposed to put on a good face and put up with the telethon and all that cruelty, but, hell, I’ve had enough and—”

Sue interrupts. “Sara, you’re leaving something out. Mr. Bob gave you a choice.”

“Oh, yes. Right. Bob says I can put us back into the competition. I have the power, he says. All I have to do is apologize.”

My heart bounces up. He’s ready to forgive. We can still win Best Cabin All Around. We can set things right.

“Thing is, I can’t apologize. I’m not sorry.”

I look from face to face, but I can’t tell what the others are thinking. The silence is making me nuts. I have to say it. “Well, I’m sorry.”

“Oh, please,” Sara says.

“I wish we did-n’t do it. Peo-ple might think we’re bit-ter.”

“Bitter! Christ Almighty! You can’t stand that, huh? The Crosstown Cripple might lose her spot in the Fire Parade.” She turns to the others. “She’s a regular Norm in Crip’s clothing.”