Goody, Like Two Shoes
Goody, Like Two Shoes [Three]
"Rise and shine, girlies!"
I opened my bleary eyes - due to sleep and lack of glasses - to catch sight of Mrs. Jacobs retreating from the cabin that I shared with Millie, Annie and Mabel, and I reached out blindly for my glasses that were on the wooden bedside locker, next to my watch that read 9:15.
I sat up, sliding my stiff legs out of the bed, yawning and stretching, then attempting to fix the frizz of hair that stood up, static, at the back of my head.
Upon failing, I stood up, reaching for my toothbrush and neatly folded pile of today's clothes that had been placed on the wicker chair beside the window, the night before.
I gazed out of the window, at the sun that was just about peeking over the tops of the trees on the opposite side of the lake, creating a golden veil over the students who had already gathered outside; some of them on their knees at the shore, others eating breakfast, and others with books and maps in their hands, ready for a day of exploring.
I pulled on my purple Doc Martens and headed outside into the warm yet breezy morning air, heading directly for the girls' bathrooms in a small, wooden hut on the outskirts of our camp.
When I entered the hut, the girls who were already there smiled their "good morning"s at me - to which I smiled back - and I brushed my teeth before changing into my casual clothes in one of the stalls.
Stepping out in loose-fitting jeans, a white blouse and a button-up, khaki jacket, I folded my white, satiny pyjamas up, ready for some breakfast before setting out into the forest, not being able to hide my excitement.
When I returned to the cabin, Millie was only just getting up, her hair sticking up wildly on one side, her glasses askew.
"See," she smiled, her child-sized teeth on show, "That Iero boy didn't murder you."
"Not yet, anyway..." I shuddered, putting my pyjamas at the end of my just made bed, "With him, there's no telling."
Millie nodded and headed towards the cabin door, but, before she got there, there was a knock.
Jeremy stepped in once the door was opened, "Good morning, girls. Now, I just wanted to tell you how today - and everyday - will work. You're in group four, and, for the rest of our stay here, you'll be in that group. I see you're not ready just yet, but when you are, just go and tell Ranger Sally your group number, she'll give you a walkie-talkie and tell you about the precautions you and your team mates will have to take. Is that okay?"
Millie and I nodded, and Jeremy smiled before he left, followed soon after by Millie, and I was left to pack the things I'd need for the day into a small shoulder bag, and to eat my breakfast of two cereal bars and a quarter of a bottle of water.
"Ready?" Millie asked, once she'd returned, dressed in clothes fairly similar to mine.
"All set." I replied, linking arms with her, and we closed the cabin door behind us before making our way over to the ranger who sat on a bench, a pile of papers on the desk in front of her.
"Group number?" she asked, a quirky smile on her face, and she brushed a tress of light brown hair from her eyes.
"Four." I replied, and she picked up a mini megaphone that was one her lap, before calling "Group four!".
We waited for our team mates, and Sally went over the safety precautions with Millie and I, giving us both maps, a walkie-talkie and a list of Do`s and Don't`s.
We were alerted to the presence of our team mates when there was a loud sigh from behind us, and a muttered "Oh, Christ almighty".
We turned to come face-to-face with none other than - you guessed it - Frank Iero and Mikey Way, both clad in black, and Frank had a pair of white-rimmed sunglasses perched atop his half spiked, half floppy, jet black hair.
"You're right," Millie whispered as Sally went through the ropes with the boys, "We really are going to get murdered, aren't we? I can see it now, we'll make the front page of the local paper back home; best friends found beaten to death - and half eaten by wolves - in Canadian gulley."
I sighed, my eyes flickering over to the boys who were waiting, arms crossed and impatient, at the small clearing where all of the forest's paths met.
"Houston, I think we may have a problem."
I was right; we did have a problem.
Every five minutes, since we'd walked about a fifth of a mile, Mikey demanded that we stop for a "coffee-break" to let him catch his breath due to his slight asthmatic problem, and Frank to have a cigarette in peace, without having to walk and listen to Millie and I converse quietly about the birds, beetles and various plants that we saw.
Now, four hours and forty-eight "coffee-breaks" and one lunch into our walk, Millie and I were getting a little distraught.
We'd just sat down on a log in a clearing for, as Frank put it, "Lunch #2" and Millie and I were studying the map, pinpointing where we were and where we wanted to go, when a shadow loomed over us.
"What're you doing, girlies?" came Frank's deep, Jersey drawl causing Millie and I to look at each other nervously, both thinking *You tell him...*, *No, you tell him.
Millie took a large bite out of her apple, giving me the cue to talk, and I answered him with a quiet, stuttered, "Mapping out where we want to go."
He bent down so that his head was between Millie's and mine, right at the same level, and he sucked his lipring into his mouth, his eyes flicking between the two points that were circled, calculating the distance before standing upright and scoffing.
"Mikey!" Frank began, almost doubled over in laughter, "They want us to walk another four fucking miles, can you believe that? Isn't that the funniest thing you've ever heard?!"
"Wow, that's fucking hilarious, man!" Mikey joined in with the laughing, spitting cookie crumbs everywhere; and Millie and I watched them, wondering if the country air had turned them mad, or if it was a serious bout of cabin - forest - fever that triggered some sense-of-humour glitch in their (small) brains.
When their laughing ceased and they noticed our bewildered expressions, they both towered over us, and Frank - being the obvious leader - was first to speak.
"Listen, doll," he nudged my foot with his now dry and clean Converse, "I don't appreciate being made to walk long distances for a geek's recreational trek. Me, I came to get away from the 'rents, to hang with my friends, do what I want, and you're not going to ruin that for me, okay?"
"But--" Millie started, but cowered when Frank cast his gaze on her, his eyes widening in a dramatic attempt to scare her.
I glanced at my watch, realising that precious time to reach Deer Point - and return to camp - before dark was ticking away, and I took a deep breath, standing up, face-to-face with the ignorant twosome.
"Look, please, today is just the right type of day to see bears on the opposite side of the lake from Deer Point through the binoculars; that's all I ask of you, just one thing. And then, for the rest of our time here, you can - I don't know - do whatever you like. But, today, let me at least enjoy today."
Mikey, Frank and Millie looked taken aback at the fact that I had spoken up for myself - for the first time ever - and Frank stepped towards me, "Or what, huh? What'cha gonna do if we don't comply with your "rules"? Go to Mrs. Jackass and tell her that Mikey and I are being big, bad bullies, hm?"
"I-I will." I retorted, looking directly into his eyes, trying to hide the fear that was finally taking over every cell, muscle, vein and bone in my body.
I'd been looking forward to this trip since the beginning of Summer vacation; and no one - not even Frank Iero - was going to ruin it for me.
Frank's eyes burned into mine and his nostrils flared as he took a deep breath, stepping back from me and muttering, 'Fine then, lead the fucking way.'
So Millie and I began walking - possibly striding triumphantly - arm-in-arm as Frank and Mikey packed up their "picnic".
"I can't believe you did that." Millie smirked, tightening her grip on my arm, "I can't believe you stood up to Frank Iero. This day will go down in history, Sasha, mark my words."
The journey towards Deer Point continued, the slope steeping with every step we took, causing Frank and Mikey to lag behind us even more; which, in a way, was a good thing.
No "coffee-breaks" were taken in the two hours of walking from the moment I'd stood up to Frank, and I was getting excited, we were almost at Deer Point - we'd probably be there in at least ten minutes.
As we stood still for a second to take a quick sip of water, there was a yell from a few hundred metres behind us, causing me to almost choke on the cool liquid.
"Girls!" Frank's voice echoed up to us, "It's Mikey; he's having an attack, he's having an attack! Quick, help!"
Millie and I exchanged a quick glance; we disliked the boys greatly, but we couldn't just leave Mikey there to wheeze to death, so we ran down to them.
Mikey was swaying, wheezing, clutching his chest, and Frank was scrabbling through Mikey's backpack for his inhaler.
Mikey began to sway even more noticeably, his breathing raspy, and Frank yelled, "Mikey, where did you put it, damnit?!"
The question was unanswered, though, as Mikey slumped to the ground, the gravel crunching below him.
The three of us - the ones who were still conscious - dropped to our knees around Mikey, panicking.
"Dude," Frank shook Mikey's limp shoulders, "Mikey, wake up"
"Let me feel for a pulse!" Millie said, tears in her eyes, reaching two fingers out towards Mikey's exposed neck.
"No," Frank slapped her fingers away, "Let me, they gave us CPR classes during camp one year. Just let me do it."
Neither Millie or I corrected him that finding a pulse had anything to do with CPR, but we watched on with baited breath as Frank pressed the pads of his index and middle fingers against Mikey's neck.
His eyes began to tear up as he searched the other side of Mikey's neck for any sign of a pulse, before pressing his ear to the unconscious boy's chest, hoping to hear the sound of a heartbeat.
Frank eventually slumped onto Mikey's chest, sobbing loudly, "He's gone, he's gone!", and Millie, who was also crying, rubbed Frank's shoulder soothingly.
With a shaking hand, I reached for the walkie-talkie that was hooked onto the waistband of my jeans, and I fumbled with the power button.
Just about to press the 'talk' button, a hand covered mine, and a voice said,
"Don't do it."
I opened my bleary eyes - due to sleep and lack of glasses - to catch sight of Mrs. Jacobs retreating from the cabin that I shared with Millie, Annie and Mabel, and I reached out blindly for my glasses that were on the wooden bedside locker, next to my watch that read 9:15.
I sat up, sliding my stiff legs out of the bed, yawning and stretching, then attempting to fix the frizz of hair that stood up, static, at the back of my head.
Upon failing, I stood up, reaching for my toothbrush and neatly folded pile of today's clothes that had been placed on the wicker chair beside the window, the night before.
I gazed out of the window, at the sun that was just about peeking over the tops of the trees on the opposite side of the lake, creating a golden veil over the students who had already gathered outside; some of them on their knees at the shore, others eating breakfast, and others with books and maps in their hands, ready for a day of exploring.
I pulled on my purple Doc Martens and headed outside into the warm yet breezy morning air, heading directly for the girls' bathrooms in a small, wooden hut on the outskirts of our camp.
When I entered the hut, the girls who were already there smiled their "good morning"s at me - to which I smiled back - and I brushed my teeth before changing into my casual clothes in one of the stalls.
Stepping out in loose-fitting jeans, a white blouse and a button-up, khaki jacket, I folded my white, satiny pyjamas up, ready for some breakfast before setting out into the forest, not being able to hide my excitement.
When I returned to the cabin, Millie was only just getting up, her hair sticking up wildly on one side, her glasses askew.
"See," she smiled, her child-sized teeth on show, "That Iero boy didn't murder you."
"Not yet, anyway..." I shuddered, putting my pyjamas at the end of my just made bed, "With him, there's no telling."
Millie nodded and headed towards the cabin door, but, before she got there, there was a knock.
Jeremy stepped in once the door was opened, "Good morning, girls. Now, I just wanted to tell you how today - and everyday - will work. You're in group four, and, for the rest of our stay here, you'll be in that group. I see you're not ready just yet, but when you are, just go and tell Ranger Sally your group number, she'll give you a walkie-talkie and tell you about the precautions you and your team mates will have to take. Is that okay?"
Millie and I nodded, and Jeremy smiled before he left, followed soon after by Millie, and I was left to pack the things I'd need for the day into a small shoulder bag, and to eat my breakfast of two cereal bars and a quarter of a bottle of water.
"Ready?" Millie asked, once she'd returned, dressed in clothes fairly similar to mine.
"All set." I replied, linking arms with her, and we closed the cabin door behind us before making our way over to the ranger who sat on a bench, a pile of papers on the desk in front of her.
"Group number?" she asked, a quirky smile on her face, and she brushed a tress of light brown hair from her eyes.
"Four." I replied, and she picked up a mini megaphone that was one her lap, before calling "Group four!".
We waited for our team mates, and Sally went over the safety precautions with Millie and I, giving us both maps, a walkie-talkie and a list of Do`s and Don't`s.
We were alerted to the presence of our team mates when there was a loud sigh from behind us, and a muttered "Oh, Christ almighty".
We turned to come face-to-face with none other than - you guessed it - Frank Iero and Mikey Way, both clad in black, and Frank had a pair of white-rimmed sunglasses perched atop his half spiked, half floppy, jet black hair.
"You're right," Millie whispered as Sally went through the ropes with the boys, "We really are going to get murdered, aren't we? I can see it now, we'll make the front page of the local paper back home; best friends found beaten to death - and half eaten by wolves - in Canadian gulley."
I sighed, my eyes flickering over to the boys who were waiting, arms crossed and impatient, at the small clearing where all of the forest's paths met.
"Houston, I think we may have a problem."
I was right; we did have a problem.
Every five minutes, since we'd walked about a fifth of a mile, Mikey demanded that we stop for a "coffee-break" to let him catch his breath due to his slight asthmatic problem, and Frank to have a cigarette in peace, without having to walk and listen to Millie and I converse quietly about the birds, beetles and various plants that we saw.
Now, four hours and forty-eight "coffee-breaks" and one lunch into our walk, Millie and I were getting a little distraught.
We'd just sat down on a log in a clearing for, as Frank put it, "Lunch #2" and Millie and I were studying the map, pinpointing where we were and where we wanted to go, when a shadow loomed over us.
"What're you doing, girlies?" came Frank's deep, Jersey drawl causing Millie and I to look at each other nervously, both thinking *You tell him...*, *No, you tell him.
Millie took a large bite out of her apple, giving me the cue to talk, and I answered him with a quiet, stuttered, "Mapping out where we want to go."
He bent down so that his head was between Millie's and mine, right at the same level, and he sucked his lipring into his mouth, his eyes flicking between the two points that were circled, calculating the distance before standing upright and scoffing.
"Mikey!" Frank began, almost doubled over in laughter, "They want us to walk another four fucking miles, can you believe that? Isn't that the funniest thing you've ever heard?!"
"Wow, that's fucking hilarious, man!" Mikey joined in with the laughing, spitting cookie crumbs everywhere; and Millie and I watched them, wondering if the country air had turned them mad, or if it was a serious bout of cabin - forest - fever that triggered some sense-of-humour glitch in their (small) brains.
When their laughing ceased and they noticed our bewildered expressions, they both towered over us, and Frank - being the obvious leader - was first to speak.
"Listen, doll," he nudged my foot with his now dry and clean Converse, "I don't appreciate being made to walk long distances for a geek's recreational trek. Me, I came to get away from the 'rents, to hang with my friends, do what I want, and you're not going to ruin that for me, okay?"
"But--" Millie started, but cowered when Frank cast his gaze on her, his eyes widening in a dramatic attempt to scare her.
I glanced at my watch, realising that precious time to reach Deer Point - and return to camp - before dark was ticking away, and I took a deep breath, standing up, face-to-face with the ignorant twosome.
"Look, please, today is just the right type of day to see bears on the opposite side of the lake from Deer Point through the binoculars; that's all I ask of you, just one thing. And then, for the rest of our time here, you can - I don't know - do whatever you like. But, today, let me at least enjoy today."
Mikey, Frank and Millie looked taken aback at the fact that I had spoken up for myself - for the first time ever - and Frank stepped towards me, "Or what, huh? What'cha gonna do if we don't comply with your "rules"? Go to Mrs. Jackass and tell her that Mikey and I are being big, bad bullies, hm?"
"I-I will." I retorted, looking directly into his eyes, trying to hide the fear that was finally taking over every cell, muscle, vein and bone in my body.
I'd been looking forward to this trip since the beginning of Summer vacation; and no one - not even Frank Iero - was going to ruin it for me.
Frank's eyes burned into mine and his nostrils flared as he took a deep breath, stepping back from me and muttering, 'Fine then, lead the fucking way.'
So Millie and I began walking - possibly striding triumphantly - arm-in-arm as Frank and Mikey packed up their "picnic".
"I can't believe you did that." Millie smirked, tightening her grip on my arm, "I can't believe you stood up to Frank Iero. This day will go down in history, Sasha, mark my words."
The journey towards Deer Point continued, the slope steeping with every step we took, causing Frank and Mikey to lag behind us even more; which, in a way, was a good thing.
No "coffee-breaks" were taken in the two hours of walking from the moment I'd stood up to Frank, and I was getting excited, we were almost at Deer Point - we'd probably be there in at least ten minutes.
As we stood still for a second to take a quick sip of water, there was a yell from a few hundred metres behind us, causing me to almost choke on the cool liquid.
"Girls!" Frank's voice echoed up to us, "It's Mikey; he's having an attack, he's having an attack! Quick, help!"
Millie and I exchanged a quick glance; we disliked the boys greatly, but we couldn't just leave Mikey there to wheeze to death, so we ran down to them.
Mikey was swaying, wheezing, clutching his chest, and Frank was scrabbling through Mikey's backpack for his inhaler.
Mikey began to sway even more noticeably, his breathing raspy, and Frank yelled, "Mikey, where did you put it, damnit?!"
The question was unanswered, though, as Mikey slumped to the ground, the gravel crunching below him.
The three of us - the ones who were still conscious - dropped to our knees around Mikey, panicking.
"Dude," Frank shook Mikey's limp shoulders, "Mikey, wake up"
"Let me feel for a pulse!" Millie said, tears in her eyes, reaching two fingers out towards Mikey's exposed neck.
"No," Frank slapped her fingers away, "Let me, they gave us CPR classes during camp one year. Just let me do it."
Neither Millie or I corrected him that finding a pulse had anything to do with CPR, but we watched on with baited breath as Frank pressed the pads of his index and middle fingers against Mikey's neck.
His eyes began to tear up as he searched the other side of Mikey's neck for any sign of a pulse, before pressing his ear to the unconscious boy's chest, hoping to hear the sound of a heartbeat.
Frank eventually slumped onto Mikey's chest, sobbing loudly, "He's gone, he's gone!", and Millie, who was also crying, rubbed Frank's shoulder soothingly.
With a shaking hand, I reached for the walkie-talkie that was hooked onto the waistband of my jeans, and I fumbled with the power button.
Just about to press the 'talk' button, a hand covered mine, and a voice said,
"Don't do it."