Part 9. The Camp-out

11-6-67 Mon

Dear Sophie,

I donít whether Iím glad I went or whether I regret it. A few things happened. Firstly I lost my temper. This prick Wally was stirring me up over my name. I ignored him for a while. Mike stuck up for me.

"Leave Ďer alone."

"Look Ebony. Iím sorry. Come here and weíll make up." By this time I was pretty pissed off.

"Get lost."

"Oh, come on lovely. You can forgive me."

"I doubt it." He then came over to me. "Get away from me."

"Not until you say sorry." He was getting a bit angry that I wasnít responding to his come ons.

"No way." By this time he had come closer and was threatening my personal space. I was really, really pissed of. He wouldnít leave me alone. (This was in front of everyone too.) So I turned round and picked up a big stick, stood up and threatened him.

"Ok, you want to hug? Come one step closer and Iíll smash your face in."

"Now, you donít mean that love."

"Try me. And Iím not your love." He went to step closer and I swung the stick at him. He held on to it and I thrust it into his stomach. He doubled over and I ran away, shaking. Peter had followed me.

I felt sick. He came up behind me and put his hands on my shoulders. I jumped.

"Hey, Itís only me." I burst out in tears. He turned me round and hugged me. "Itís alright. He wonít bother you again."

"Peter, I want to go home." I sobbed

"I know, but we canít. We have no transport." He stroked my head, and I calmed down.

"I donít want to go back there. Theyíll all hate me."

"More like theyíll hate Wally, Eb. Come on. Itíll be ok." I looked up at him and he wiped my tears away with his thumbs. Then he lightly kissed me on the lips. "Come on. Theyíre waiting for us." He took my hand and we walked back.

I didnít talk much after that. I just stayed close to Peter. Wally acted as if nothing had happened. Prick.

When I woke up next morning, Peter was asleep next to me. (My glasses were still on. Itís a miracle the didnít get scratched or anything) He had his arm around me. I stayed there and savoured the moment. I closed my eyes in total bliss, moved in closer and fell asleep again. When I woke up again Peter wasnít there. I sat up and looked around. There were still some people asleep. I couldnít see Peter anywhere. Just then someone came up behind me, and I jumped. I turned round. It was Peter, smiling warmly.

"Have a good sleep?"

"It was ok."

"Thatís good."

"How about you?"

"What?"

"Did you have a good sleep?"

"Oh, yeah. It was nice."

I smiled. So was mine. That day we had a tour of the farm. Tina acted as if none of us had ever been on a farm before. Patronising.

"My grandparents live on a farm too. I used to stay out there and help with the sheep." I said to Peter, who had decided to walk behind with me. (His idea. Not mine)

"What did you do?"

"Oh, we had to help round up the sheep into the sheep yard for shearing or marking."

"Marking?"

"Thatís when you separate the lambs from the sheep, cut a bit out of their ear, cut off their tail and if it was a boy, castrate it." Peter winced. "Itís not a very nice job."

"I can imagine."

We walked along silently, and listened to Tina. We were almost up to the chicken coup.

Tina had turned around and was leading everyone through the gate. Without a word Peter took hold of my hand and pulled me into the shed we were passing.

"We donít really want to see the chickens do we?"

"I know I donít. Grandma and Pop have some. Theyíre not real interesting."

"No doubt Tina will try her best." We stood there for a minute in silence.

"What now?" I asked. Peter poked his head out of the shed. He gripped my hand again and pulled me out.

"Come on." We ran past the chickens, past the pigs, some trees and finally ended up at a swimming hole. We collapsed on the ground, panting and sweating. I was feeling quite hot, so I took my shoes and jeans off. (I had a pair of shorts on underneath) I went over the water and put my feet in. Peter came up behind me and pushed me in. I was soaked. He stood there smiling at me. I calmly stood up and walked towards him. Then I pulled him in. We were both soaking wet sitting in a swimming hole. I splashed some water at him.

"Hey! What was that for.?"

"For pushing me in." He smiled and splashed some water at me. I splashed back. He kneeled up and went to scoop up some water. I pushed him over and started to run.

"Youíll pay for that Ebony!"

"Youíve got to catch me first!"

"Just you wait!"

Unfortunately it is quite hard to run in knee deep water and he caught me. Peter ended up on top of me, pinning me down. "Iíve got you now." He said softly, looking into my eyes.

"So thatís where you two got to." A voice said, out of nowhere. We looked up and saw Tina leading the group towards us. Peter got up, then helped me up. We walked calmly over to our things, picked them up and started walking back.

Well Sophie the rest of the trip was so, so. Peter and I didnít get any chances to be alone, because everyone made fun of us. So I guess Iím glad I went.

Ebony.

12-6-67 Tue

Dear Sophie,

It really is a miracle that nothing has happened to my glasses. The lenses are plastic, so theyíre easier to scratch. Oh, another thing. Peter noticed my tattoo. I explained that it was temporary, but it hasnít come off. He didnít mind. He said he liked it. Iím glad he does like it. I wouldnít want him hating something I had no say in.

The guys have been rehearsing. Theyíve got that gig on Friday. If it goes well theyíll get more gigs there. I hope it does.

Eb.

 

Part 8/ Storybook/ Part 10