Dinner and Night

While sitting on my bunk the sun's reflection rested upon my head,.  Soon afterward, the dinner bell rung with a melancholy chime, reminding me of the sound of the Gregorian mellows that would disturb the dead.  We quickly jumped (as told) off our bunks, and lined up to march back down to the dining hall to dine with all the campers.  The food was the most I could get out of it, as my eyes opened wider than a baby crying from its mouth. My counselor noticed my composure, unlike my camp mates who dashed towards their line of choice.  So she held my hand and took me to a serving line.  I thought all was well until she turned and walked back to the table, then my knees began to shake.  Standing alone was never something I crafted, but now it was sink or swim.  The server looked at me and shook his head very pleased that I said "thank you" and "please".  My  favorite item was the pancakes because of the ability to eat as much as you could, like any pancake house.  Servings were gracious and received my bow of courtesy, as I moved from one station to the other.  Even a nibbling mouse would roll on its back laughing with glee to eat so much cheese.  After we digested our pleasures a man directed the crowd to sing "Peanut butter" and "my spaghetti that rolled onto the floor," which are the most of the lyrics I can now remember.  I began to reflect on the days when myself and the siblings would sing into the whirlwind fan, spewing out trickles of gurgling lyrics.  I never knew how to sing alone as the person always standing as backup, but at camp did nicely and learned to chime in.  After a good stuffing of introductions by the camping directors, we lined back up and took the plight to our campsite.  It was a bit of a dusty evening, as the sun tried to hide it tail as best as could be behind the skinny hills.  Perhaps, the sun also had a little too much of a fill, like the feedings from the dining hall.   A little bit into the walking moment, I glanced up and spotted the sun still struggling to rid itself.  But like a child played hide and seek before trying to get indoors with a good night.  We kicked a few pebbles while laughing with each other, holding hands as partners until the familiar sight of the green sheeted castle (tent) slowly came into view.  For some strange reason or another I embraced the moment and threw myself into the belly of my bed.  It was a strange nurturing feeling as I felt a motherly love attached to its threads.  Some campers changed in the space between the beds and one of us changed under the sheets to avoid the stares.  The night blanketed the camp and the moon tried its best to dangle some light between the flaps, even when Jacky snapped the sides together.  I never knew such  darkness, but the darkness recognized me.  After having a bit of scare with chipmunks outside, I nerved up and begged my soon-to-be close camp friend Tiera, who I thought had a peculiar name, if we could switch bunks.  So with pleasure and empathy she jumped off the top and gave me her bed.  I counted myself lucky, even if the sheep did not put me to bed.  So after midnight, I became restless and decided to climb down the bunk into my suitcase.  After moving around the clothes as quietly as could be, I located the flashlight my mother sent with me.  It was on the checklist, but as usual she always managed to suit herself and sometimes making a little situation a little bit worse.  It was a heavy duty yellow rimmed device that even a fisherman could use when out on the rocky seas at night.  The flashlight had eyes larger than a saucer and a silver moon glare, enough to scare anyone who dares.  I held onto it for dear life, as I climbed back quietly in my nightgown onto my mattress.  Then I told myself good night.