Katie and Rosa heaved themselves up onto the sun-warmed wooden raft and sat dangling their feet in the sparkling green water of Blackbird Lake.

"Erin still won't even get in," said Katie, shaking water out of her ear, "and last summer she was the fastest ten-year-old backstroker in camp."

Back on the dock, the girls' cabinmate sat cross-legged on a big orange and yellow towel, staring down at a paperback book. Over her dry swimsuit, Erin wore a sky-blue polo shirt with a small blackbird on its pocket.

"Look, there's Anita," said Rosa.

A girl in a swim cap jogged out onto the dock. She bent and spoke to Erin. Erin glanced up and shook her head. The other girl stood and dove into the lake, splashing Erin's paperback.

A bigger girl in denim shorts and a sky-blue baseball cap struck a gong outside the Camp Blackbird dining hall. Free time was over. Katie and Rosa swam quickly back to shore. They grabbed their towels and ran barefoot across the muddy grass and up the steps to their tent cabin.

Erin was already inside, brushing her hair back into a ponytail in front of a mirror that someone had tacked to the cabin's center pole. Anita was buckling her leather sandals.

"You're going to miss everything fun," she said. "You won't be able to go on the overnight canoe trip unless you pass the swimming test."

"I just can't," said Erin, sitting suddenly down on her bunk.

One cool late-August day last summer, Erin's family had driven over to San Francisco's Ocean Beach. Thick fog had blocked the sun, and enormous waves had pounded the sand. Erin's older cousin Maddie, tired of collecting broken sand dollars and flat gray stones, had dared her to swim out and body surf back to shore. Erin wanted to show Maddie how brave she was. She pulled off her sweatshirt and waded out into the chilly water. She dove through the breakers, and the ocean currents pulled her foward. Then a riptide caught her in its deadly grip.

"Help! Help!"

Maddie saw Erin struggling. She ran crying for Erin's father. He swam out and rescued her. Back on the beach, Erin coughed up seawater and shivered violently. Maddie wrapped her in a grubby picnic blanket and hugged her guiltily.

That was the last time Erin had gone swimming. She knew she should try again, but even the thought of diving into Blackbird Lake made her feel like choking.

At camp the next day, Erin's cabin-mates strapped on bright orange life jackets and signed out a canoe. Erin wandered over to the art room and sat on a tall metal stool next to a big empty worktable. She rested her head on her folded arms. The room was shadowy and cool, and a fresh piney smell blew in the open windows. A short, slim girl emerged from the supply closet, lugging a large wet slab of clay in a muddy-looking plastic bag.

Erin looked up. "Hi, Susan."

"Hi, Erin. Jenny went to get coffee, but she said anyone who comes can start making pots. But how come you're not out on the lake? I didn't know you hated swimming, too." Susan dumped the clay onto the table.

Erin tore off a handful and threw it down hard to pop any air bubbles. "You don't even know how, right?" She began rolling out clay snakes.

"Right," said Susan, fetching notched wooden scrapers and other tools. "I tried to learn a couple of times, but I hate putting my face in the water. You can't breathe that way, you know!"

Erin twisted one of her snakes into a spiral. Then she curled another one around on top of the spiral's outer edge. She had decided to make a coil pot. "I used to love swimming," she said, "but last August I almost drowned."

The door banged open, and Jenny, the art counselor, rushed in, carrying a mug of milky coffee and a pile of sketch pads. Three smaller girls followed, chattering loudly. They grabbed hunks of clay and settled down at the far end of the table. Susan sat next to Erin. She made a coil pot, too. The girls both shaped snakes with open mouths and pointed tails and attached them to the rims of their pots. They scraped scaly textures onto the snakes' backs.

Erin had such a good time that she almost forgot about swimming and boating. She started spending most mornings in the art room. Katie, Rosa, and Anita missed her out on the lake, but they didn't know what to do. They knew Erin was scared to get back into the water, but she wouldn't even talk about it anymore.

One night, the counselors lit a bonfire. Jenny sharpened sticks with a pocketknife, and the girls toasted marshmallows.

"Erin," said Anita, licking her sticky fingers, "the canoe trip is next week. We really want you to come."

"I know," said Erin. She stared down at her marshmallow, which was burning browner and browner. She and Susan were the only eleven-year-olds who hadn't passed that summer's swimming test.

Erin's cabin-mates tried not to talk about the overnight too much, but Rosa had never camped in a tent before. Anita and Katie had to tell her all about poles and stakes and rain flies. The night before the trip, the three girls stuffed sleeping bags and small duffles into waterproof bags. The counselors were going to bring tents, food, and fire-making supplies. Erin lay on her bunk, pretending to write a letter.

"I can't decide whether to take my camera," said Katie.

"Don't," said Anita. "What if it falls into the river? Look, I have a waterproof map in case the counselors get us lost."

Early the next morning, ten girls and two counselors paddled off across the lake in six heavily-laden canoes. Susan and Erin waved from the dock as the sun rose over the pine trees.

"Come on, let's go." Susan took Erin's hand and pulled her over to the art room.

Their clay pots were ready for glazing. Erin painted hers dark green with brown stripes. She made the snake a lighter green with a red tongue. Susan used orange and yellow glazes. With a tiny brush, she painted a diamond pattern on her snake's back. The girls set their pots on a shelf to dry. When enough pieces were ready, Jenny would fire them in the camp kiln.

Outside, the sky darkened. A big wind blew up, and the pine branches rustled and creaked. Jenny switched on some lights. Rain splattered down. The air smelled cool and wet. Susan, Erin, and some younger girls ran to the open windows. Big waves washed high up onto the lakeshore. Off in the distance, Erin spotted an orange blur. It was the overnight campers' life jackets.

"Look, Susan, they're padding back! Let's go and help them in."

The two girls raced out to the dock. They stood peering out into the storm. Their clothes clung to them, and the wind whipped their wet hair into their faces.

The first canoe reached shore. Erin and Susan tossed out ropes and helped the girls to clamber up onto the slippery dock. The next canoe arrived. Jenny ran up and secured it to a cleat. Susan reached her hand out to the girl in the front of the canoe. A big wave splashed up onto the dock. Susan stumbled. She fell into the water.

Erin saw her go under. Was that Susan's hand? Erin dove into the dark water. She grabbed Susan under the arms. Erin's soggy clothes dragged her down, but she kicked hard and pulled Susan up. Their heads broke the surface. Susan coughed and gasped for air. Jenny threw them a life jacket. Erin caught hold of it and shoved it down over Susan's head.

"Hang on, Susan. We're almost there."

The wind and the rain were letting up. Erin swam Susan over to the dock. Counselors reached down and pulled them up. Someone carried Susan into the common room, where a warm fire burned in the big stone fireplace. Erin sat shivering on the dock, trying to catch her breath. Jenny wrapped her in a big towel and hugged her hard.

Rosa and Katie had come back. They rushed over.

"You saved her, Erin!"

"You were so brave."

The two girls helped Erin over to the common room. Anita was back, too. She ran and fetched dry clothes for everyone. Soon the five girls were squeezed onto a sofa in front of the fireplace, sipping big mugs of hot chocolate. Outside, the storm blew away. The sun came out, and everything began to dry off.

Erin discovered that she wasn't afraid of swimming anymore. Susan decided she had better learn. The last day of camp, Susan made it out to the raft. She and Erin sat dangling their feet in the water and planning next summer's overnight canoe trip. Katie, Rosa, and Anita swam over and joined them.

The End

Jennifer Nutt lives in California and works at an appeals court. She writes stories in her spare time. She and her two children like to tell each other stories at bedtime.

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