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"Can I have some?" Noah approaches the other little boy cautiously. He's sniffling and he looks at all the other kids like they were an ant or some kind of bug that wasn't really cool at all, but he has extra snack. And even though Noah isn't going to cry about it, he doesn't really want to be there, either.
His mom keeps ranting about having to take her precious boy to a Christian place because she's still stuck in the middle of nowhere, hi-oh, and why wasn't the city camp good enough, Zeke? His dad just laughs and says a few days of Jesus prayers wouldn't hurt a big strong boy like Noah, would it?
Noah doesn't understand any of that except it had something to do with how he is Jewish and goes to a synagogue on Saturdays where people talk in Hebrew, instead of a church on Sundays where people talk in… well, Noah doesn't know what they talk in at the places with the tall steeples and the crosses.
"No!" The other little boy responds quickly. "I don't want to be here," he mutters.
"I don't either," Noah offers.. "I'm Noah."
There was a long silence before the other boy responded. "Kurt." He sniffles again. "Daddy said I could play 'ports and color my fashion dolls, but I don't want to play 'ports. I want Mommy to come pick me up."
"I'm Jewish," Noah says proudly. "That means I don't believe in Jesus. So Momma doesn't want me to be here."
"Why are you?"
"Dad made me," Noah admits, scuffing his toe against the wall. "But I do like sports."
"Why?" Kurt picks up one of the cookies in his bowl and shoves it in his mouth. "They're all so boring."
"I like to run fast! And I like when they cheer for you."
Kurt seems to consider that for a minute. "Cheers are nice," he finally agrees.
"I'm six," Noah announces.
"Me too!"
"Are you going to be in first grade?"
Kurt shakes his head, and Noah can't help but smile at the answer. "No, kindergarten. Are you?"
"I'm gonna be in kindergarten too!"
They exchange a slight smile, and just as Noah's about to go back to the basketball game, even though he doesn't really like basketball, Kurt pulls one cookie out of the bowl and hands it to him. "Maybe we'll be in the same class."
"Are you going to Independence?"
Kurt's face falls. "No. Freedom."
"Oh. Well. Maybe I'll see you here next year," Noah offers.
"Maybe," Kurt agrees.
Noah remembers the strange boy who doesn't like sports all through the second year of kindergarten. Kurt. When summer comes, though, and his dad signs up for the camp at the YMCA again, there's no Kurt.
By the next year, after first grade, Noah gets his new best friend Finn to sign up, and he can't remember the other boy's face, just his name. There are no Kurts at camp, though.
When Noah is eight, and even again when he's nine, he listens carefully on the first day, not sure why, but again there are no Kurts. When he's nine is the last year he goes to camp at the YMCA. When he's nine is the last year he still lets anyone see him.
When he's fifteen, and starts high school, he barely remembers that he even went to camp at the YMCA. He doesn't know why he enjoys generic chocolate chip cookies so much, either.