Editor’s note: Tracy Warren told her 8th-grade English class at Twin Hills Middle School about the Sebastopol Times’ Personal Essay Contest. Several of her students submitted their essays, which we loved reading. Evy Royer’s stood out, however, and we’re proud to publish it.
By Evy Royer
We had finally made it to the “lake” that the camp counselor had been talking about on the 10-minute walk, which felt more like 10 hours to my 9-year-old self. The whole time, I was attached to the hip of my closest friend at the time, Erika. We were at Camp CYO, and we were in a group with about 12 other girls. Our first impression on all of the other campers was that we were sisters. So, we had not exactly become friends with anyone else so far. The lake was much smaller than any of us expected, more like a pond than a lake.
We walked in a line to a small dock covered with canoes and life jackets. The two counselors told us to sit down on the same benches and take out our lunches. So we all did, grabbing our brown paper bags and pulling out our lunch. I opened it to find the same thing I had eaten for the whole week, a peanut butter and honey sandwich.
The camp counselors sat down and began to tell us a story. There was an alligator in the lake. It was a blind albino alligator with little to no teeth. They had a long story, which I don’t remember, to explain how they got an alligator and why it had no teeth and all the questions we had. Although I don’t remember the story that well, I do remember how stupid it was; nothing about it made any sense. I remember they said the alligator only ate weird food and had some silly name. We had loads of questions. What is its favorite food? What does it like to do for fun? Questions 9-year-olds would ask. The one question we did not have is whether the story they were telling was real. Every one of us believed it fully. There was no doubt in our minds that there was a tame, blind, albino alligator with no teeth in the small pond at Camp CYO.
After we were all finished with our lunches, we would throw the bags in the trash and follow the counselors to the dock. It was an old dock. It sat on the dark blue water, swaying with the small waves. There was a pile of red canoes and life jackets piled on top of each other. As we made our way onto the dock one by one, stepping on it would cause a loud creek and a sway. We stood on the dock watching as the two counselors grasped each end of the canoe and placed it in the water. They took the first group of girls and attached their life vests. Each of the girls got a small paddle and, one by one, hopped in the boat. Then the counselors called for the next group of three, until it was just me, Erika, and another girl. As we got our life vests on and got in the boat one at a time, the counselors told us to look for the alligator as it would be swimming around.
We paddled around the pond, searching for the alligator. You could not go 5 minutes without hearing a voice screaming, “I saw its tail!” Everyone would quickly paddle toward the area, stick their heads out and stare at the water. Erika was at the front of the boat, while I stayed back. I was searching on the left side of the canoe, waiting to see it pass by.
Just then, Erika yelled, “I saw it! It swam down!” I quickly hopped to the right side and instantly stuck my head off the side searching for it. Just then, I saw it
Who knows what I actually saw. Maybe a log, a fish, or a branch? Or maybe it was not anything at all, but I was convinced. I had seen an alligator swim down in the water, I quickly told my boat, and for the rest of the time on the lake, we were chasing the sounds of the girls saying they saw it. On the trail back to the cabins, all any of us could talk about was the alligator and where we saw it and what we saw. We were so proud of ourselves at that moment. We were so excited that it was almost all we could talk about for the rest of the day at camp.
When it was finally time to go home after a long day. My mom picked both me and Erika up and drove us to her house first. We talked about our day, all the games we played, all the hikes we went on and all that. She did not seem impressed by the alligator, but I brushed it off. Once Erika was dropped off, I continued telling her about my day, circling back to the lake and the alligator. This time, though, my mom told me, “You really don’t believe that there is an alligator in the pond, do you?”
What kind of question was that? Of course, there was an alligator! Right? At that moment, I really thought. It would not make much sense, would it? I stopped my story and realized it was all a lie. Looking back on this day, I remember the innocence we all had. Sometimes I miss it. If you were to tell me that story now, I would not believe you for a second. Sometimes I wish I could believe there was a blind albino alligator with no teeth in the pond and just be a kid.
What a delightful story, Evy! I am a retired middle school English teacher, and I must compliment you on your inspiring writing style. Keep up the good work!