Now you may be wondering why I am calling this Brownie camp ‘that of woe and misery’, but you shall very soon know, because that camp was absolute tripe. The beds were comfortable enough, and the Brownies, when it came to bedtime, were quiet enough – though that was probably because the strictest leader was in the room while they slept. I say slept, but really, on the first night, nobody slept at all. The phrase ‘I never slept a wink’ was rather true in this orphanage-looking dormitory, because, as well as Erin and Lily annoyingly whispering for half of the time, every single Brownie found the room too dark and quiet and new, and never really got to sleep at all. The evil leader of doom, Brown Owl, who happened to be in the room at the time, came and made survey sheets for who got to sleep quickest. I’m not surprised barely anyone was asleep – nobody could, and if they were, Brown Owl would have woken them with her loud scribbles with her pen and papers, and the supposedly quiet footsteps she made. And in the morning, Erin just happened to be practically shouting her head off as she chatted around with Lily. Morning. That’s right – half five in the morning and every nine people out of ten were awake because of her and her silly schoolgirl friend. I tried, “If you think I’m going to put up with this noise and stay awake for hours, think again”, and, “Just stop whispering or I’ll tell Brown Owl”, but even the use of these two Owly words simply made them shiver slightly. I never got back to sleep in the end, no matter how many ‘think again’s were used. But that was just trying to sleep on the first night.
The timetable in the Dining Hall told us we had to be up, washed, dressed, teeth done, faces done, and all that by seven. So that meant out of bed at quarter past six, scream and shout until half six, and finallly, do the teeniest bit of brushing your teeth and the snottiest part of dressing underneath duvets and inside sleeping bags. We were all ready by half seven – “Close enough,” Erin sneared at the timetable – and were dishing out jobs and Black Sack talks and, “Oh, I’ve been to ask this but I don’t really want you to say yes: do you need me to help you with anything?” though I was polite and marvellously strict with those who annoyed me, especially at bedtimes.
What’s the Black Sack? It is more formally known as the Black Sack of Doom, and whenever it arrived in Squirrel’s hands while the Brownies were in the other room, and word got out, it was, “Aaagh! The Black Sack of Doom has gone round! Tidy up quick! Did the housekeepers do well enough?” You see, nobody really knew when the Sack had gone round, for Squirrel kept it a terrible secret. It collected all of the stuff lying around in the dormitory floor – or any floor, to be quite frank – and when there were the Bead Councils, you had to give away a bead if any of your things had ended up in the Black Sack. But what are the beads, I hear you ask? At the beginning of the session, you get a long shoe lace, and with that you have to stack up your beads on the thread. You get beads for doing your jobs well, and asking if you could help, and being kind and good in any general way, like sleeping first. But you lost beads, however, if anything went in the Black Sack of Doom. It was most often hoodies or cameras or fleeces or Brownie uniform pieces, and all of them had to be given to the owner in return for one of your glittering, gleaming beads.
You also got the jobs. I’ve been hearing you, girl in the orange hoodie by the front row in the audience, whispering to your parents what they are, and now you shall know. Every Brownie has a responsibility – it would be ‘unkind’ to leave all the duties to the leaders. (I don’t necessarily think that with Brown Owl, or Squirrel, but nice, kind Karen needs some help with the everyday stuff.) But it wasn’t really fun. Housekeepers were exciting, toilet cleaning wasn’t really what I’d prefer to do, but everything else was silly and stupid. The Brownies are on other Brownies’ sides. They do not want anything of theirs or their friends put in the Sack. So the housekeepers tidy the dormitories and the hallway, leaving all that they can spotless and jumper-on-the-floor-less so that nothing will go in that terrible, horrible Sack. The health group go up and wash up the toilets. Blurghe. You were given rubber gloves and mops and cloths and a special auborn liquid to make the seats clean and shiny with. The mirrors had to be free of just a speck of spashed water or slippy toothpaste, and depending how good you did at each job, you were given a certain amount of beads. Waitresses put down the placemats in random places on the table and set each table with knives, forks, and pudding spoons. That wasn’t the best because, unless you’re really lucky, you never get to sit with your friends. Cooks helped out with the meals and drew the menus and helped Karen peel potatoes, etc. It was a holiday. Not a business shop.
You got given activity books and silly diaries with the simple questions of ‘what was your least favourite this’ and ‘what was your favourite that’ which will go in the bin afterwards. The activity books were creased and had the most stupid quizzes and puzzles in them. You had to finish all of these ‘I already know all this’ quizzes before you were allowed to go and tidy your dormitories. It was very silly, not to forget the loudness and rudeness coming not just from the Brownies but from Brown Owl and Squirrel, too. The activities were nothing but boring. On the second night, I got to sleep quickest, and therefore Brown Owl decided to let somebody else have the beads for it. She also gave us her dirty dinner plates to wash, laid them on our table at washing-up time, and said before walking hurriedly off, “Thank you!” as though we had agreed to wash her stupid plates. I will fully well not say bless you when she sneezes.
Home-time was probably the best bit, by a rather long far. Mummy came, I packed my bag, heaved it over my shoulder, Mummy took the duvet bag and my activity bag, and we set off with a quiet and meek, “Thank you, Squirrel, bye.” and she muttered, “See you next week,” with the soppiest and most this-is-a-fake smile ever. Mmhmm. Done! I shall see you soon!