“What happens at Summer Camp, stays at Summer Camp” is the maxim of a number of different events. As a rule, it’s fine, but sometimes what happens at Summer Camp turns out to be rather more long-lasting, and it cannot remain hidden.
A few years ago, my mum was struggling to read her mobile phone, so a colleague of hers lent her a pair of reading glasses. Realising that these helped her to see much more clearly, she booked an appointment at the local optician’s, and kindly made an appointment for me, too. It wasn’t a surprise when she was told she needed reading glasses, but we were both surprised when I was told that I was a little bit short-sighted, and that I would find things in the distance easier to see if I had glasses.
After getting them, I wore them once or twice, when I went to the cinema with my mum. They also went to school in my bag most days – and stayed there. The only person who even knew I had them was my best friend, Vicky, and that was only because she saw the case on one occasion, when I had to empty my bag to find a pen. She did ask me what it was like to wear glasses, but I couldn’t really give her much of an answer, because, although they were mine, I never wore them. She did try them on, but they made little difference to her. A couple of weeks later, I “lost” them somewhere inside the sofa. I made sure I could find them if my mum got really cross with me, but that never happened.
I did eventually retrieve them, but by this point, I had got a newer, slightly stronger pair, and I wanted to see what the difference was. Actually, I had two pairs. My mum had insisted, in case I lost them again. I couldn’t really argue with her. I always took a pair of glasses to school with me, and brought them back home, unused. I would occasionally wear them while watching television in the house, but that was more so that my mum knew that I’d still got them, rather than because I felt that I needed them to help me see. Nevertheless, there were one or two occasions at school where I asked the teachers to make the font bigger; vanity, at the age of 12!
I was really looking forward to the Summer holidays at the end of year 7; a week to relax after the end of term; ten days in Cyprus with my parents, followed by two weeks on an activity holiday in the Lake District with Vicky, and about 40 other 12 to 15 year-olds that I didn’t know and then a week to get ready for the new school year. Not enough time to get bored, and plenty of things to do.
The first week was a bit of a washout. The novelty of not having to get up to go to school hadn’t had time to wear off. I was able to get up when I wanted, and to stay up late if I felt like it. I could play on my phone without being hassled to do any homework, and I could watch whatever I wanted to on the television.
Our hotel in Cyprus was pretty good, too. It had a couple of open-air swimming pools. One of them was just for swimming, while the other had water slides and other activities. There was a disco in the bar several times a week, and the food in the restaurant wasn’t bad. We had gone with some friends of my parents, so there was almost always someone around that I knew. The weather was much better than it had been in England, so I spent quite a lot of time outdoors, either in the pools, or lazing around by them. I could not help but feel a little bit of pride in the fact that the top half of my bikini was doing something, and wondered who else might have noticed.
Our three days in England between holidays were pretty hectic. Mum had to rush around getting all the clothes washed and ironed, ready for me to go up to the Lakes, while Dad had gone back to work, so he could take the extra couple of days off later in the year. Vicky came over at lunchtime on Friday, as we were giving her a lift up to the Lakes. Her parents were going to drive up and bring us both back home two weeks later.
At about ten o’clock, the phone rang. It was the optician’s, phoning to confirm my eye exam for three o’clock that afternoon. Both my mum and I had completely forgotten about it. We had booked it for then, so that any new glasses I needed ought to be ready before I went back to school, but Vicky had come round earlier than we had planned, so we had to drag her into town as well.
The appointment didn’t go well. I knew it probably wouldn’t. I’d had half an eye on what glasses others were getting, so that I knew what was in style for when my turn came, and I tried on a few frames before I was called into the examination room. I was rather expecting to be told off for not wearing my glasses enough (I had remembered to take them with me, this time), but what happened was, to my mind, worse. My eyes were now more than twice as bad as they had been a year earlier. I had progressed from a minus one in both eyes to a minus two point two five. And, I was told in front of both my mum and Vicky, I had to wear them all the time. Starting today.
Choosing new glasses didn’t take long, as I’d already chosen the pairs I wanted. Mum felt it might still be a good idea to get two pairs for me, so that I would have a back-up pair in case one of them got broken. I would have to wait until we got back from the Lakes to get the glasses, but I would have plenty of time to adjust to the stronger prescription before going back to school. I was not pleased. And then, I was taken around the supermarket to get food for the journey the following day. I was very conscious of the fact that I was wearing glasses, and that almost no-one had ever seen me in them before. Fortunately, at that time on a Friday afternoon, we didn’t see anyone we knew, so I was safe for a bit longer.
While Mum was busy preparing tea, Vicky and I sat chatting in my bedroom. I was still not happy.
“More than twice as strong,” I whined, “and wearing them all the time. It’s not fair.”
“But you’re still the same person inside, Penny,” Vicky pointed out. “Besides, those glasses look quite good on you.”
I was still more focussed on the strength of my new glasses, and reached into the drawer beside my bed, to get my other pair out.
“Look, I can wear both of these pairs, but they’re still not strong enough.” I complained. Even as I put the second pair on top of the first one, I was aware that I could see much better, but I couldn’t go around wearing two pairs of glasses at the same time. Not only would that look silly, but it would be sure to draw comment, even from people who didn’t know me.
“But loads of people wear glasses all the time, Penny, and no-one says a word about them.”
“Well if that’s the way you feel,” I snapped, “you try wearing them all the time. I bet you couldn’t wear these the whole time we’re up in the Lakes.”
Vicky took the spare pair of glasses I had just thrust at her and put them on.
“I bet you I can. They’re not that strong. They hardly make any difference at all.”
She was probably right that they made hardly any difference. Certainly, I could see a bit better with them on, but even then, the trees at the bottom of the garden didn’t really look like they’d got leaves.
“You’re on!” At that moment, Mum called us for tea, so Vicky took the glasses off and put them back in their case. Then, to show that she meant business, she opened the top of her rucksack and slipped them inside.
The next time I saw the glasses was when we were unpacking our things at the centre where we were staying. We were the first to arrive, so we got first choice of beds in the bunkhouse where we were staying. We spread our things out as much as we dared, and then Vicky removed the glasses from their case and put them on.
“You’re really going to wear them for the whole two weeks?” I asked her, somewhat surprised.
“Of course. And I’m going to spend every minute trying to work out what you can do in return. There is just one thing, though.”
“What’s that? Are you trying to wriggle out of it?”
“No, but I’m allowed to take them off if you’re not wearing your glasses, and also if anyone is taking a photo of me. I don’t want any awkward questions afterwards.”
I couldn’t see any reason not to agree to these two exceptions, so I did. I wondered what Vicky would come up with for me, but didn’t push her on the matter. To be honest, I hoped she would forget all about it.
In the event, I would have to say that she won the bet. There were a couple of mornings when I had to remind her of it over breakfast, but there was also one day when she pointed out to me that I was the one who was supposed to be wearing glasses. There were also a couple of days when the weather was pretty wet, and it was easier to see without them on, and, of course, we took them off when swimming or doing other water sports. When the end of the holiday came, I did have to remind her to take them off before her parents arrived. It was pretty strange seeing her bare-faced in the car on the way home.
I had to wait a couple of days before I was able to get my new glasses. They seemed a bit strong when I first put them on, but I was told I’d soon get used to them. They did check that the prescription was correct. When I got home, I compared the vision with the new glasses and the old ones. I couldn’t believe that I had thought my eyes hadn’t changed. Now, the far end of the garden was in sharp focus, and I could tell exactly why I had been told I had to wear them all the time.
There is, however, something about getting new glasses which always makes you feel slightly apprehensive about being seen in them. Thus, as the first day of the new School Year drew closer, I became a little anxious. Only Vicky had ever seen me in glasses. No-one else knew I wore them, so they were going to be surprised, especially with them now being a permanent feature.
“They look great, Penny! They really suit you,” were the words Vicky used when she first saw me. I was grateful for that, but knew I was going to have a day of it. Most people were pretty complimentary. A few wanted to try them, and I got lots of comments like “I never knew you wore glasses” or “how long have you needed glasses”, and some of my non-glasses wearing friends remarked on how strong they were. On the whole, it was quite a positive experience, and by day two, people had accepted that I now wore glasses, and no further comment was made.
“Have you noticed how the boys look at you now?” Vicky asked me on the way home on Friday afternoon. I hadn’t, so I asked her what she meant.
“When we go somewhere as a group of girls, it’s you they’re all looking at. They never did that last year. The only thing that’s different about you is your glasses,” she explained. “Look, I’ll prove it to you. On Monday, bring me the glasses I borrowed for Summer Camp, and just watch them. I’ll wear them in School for a few days, and you’ll see that I’m right.”
So, on Monday, I put the glasses into my bag, and met Vicky at the bus stop just around the corner from my house.
“I’ve got them,” I told her.
“Got what?” she asked.
“My old glasses. Here you are.” I handed her the case.
“I’d forgotten all about it.” She opened the case, and put the glasses on. “Now, watch the boys carefully, and see how much attention they pay us.”
The first day, it was hard to tell whether the glasses had any effect on the boys or not. Vicky was swamped by a number of our girl friends who all wanted to know about her new glasses. Rather than admitting to the fact that she had borrowed them from me, she kept up the pretence that they were her own., and duly faced the same barrage of questions that I had a week earlier. It took a week or so before I had to admit that the boys did seem to be paying us a bit more attention than they had the previous year. How much this was to do with the glasses, and how much to do with the fact that we were beginning to turn into young ladies, rather than girls, I did not know.
The routine was the same every morning. We left our houses at about the same time each day. When we reached the bus stop, Vicky got the glasses out of her bag. She wore them all day, except during PE lessons, and took them off again when we got to the bus stop on the way home. She didn’t wear them when I went over to visit her, although she did occasionally keep them on if she came round to my house, as she knew my parents would still be at work.
This went on for a couple of weeks or so. I did ask her whether she planned to stop at any point, but she felt that a boy named Darrell was trying to pluck up the courage to ask her out, so asked if she could keep the glasses for another few days. At this point I stopped her in the street, turned to face her to ask her why she didn’t ask him out, and realised that the glasses she was wearing were not mine. The difference was very subtle. Where my glasses had two little silver dots in the top corners, the glasses Vicky was wearing didn’t have any.
“I wondered how long it would take you to notice,” she answered. “I got these at the weekend. I realised I could see better with your glasses than I could without, so I got my mum to get my eyes tested a couple of weeks back, just after I borrowed your glasses from you. Actually, if I remember correctly, these are actually a bit stronger than your old glasses. I don’t need to wear them all the time, but I’m going to, as it’s just so much easier. Here,” she reached into her bag, “you can have yours back.” I wondered what I was supposed to do with a pair of glasses I knew were too weak, but put them into my bag and thanked Vicky for returning them to me.
As it turned out, that was not the last time Vicky used my glasses. The week before our Christmas holidays was particularly cold, and on our way home, Vicky tripped on a loose paving stone. Her glasses flew off and, as she struggled to regain her balance, she accidentally trod on the glasses, causing them to break where the nose piece was, and scraping the right lens across the ground. I helped her home to her mum, and explained what had happened. Her mum phoned the optician’s while I was there to ask about getting a replacement pair, but they suggested that, as it was over 3 months since she got the glasses, it would be a good idea to give Vicky a full sight test. Ias it was quite possible her vision had changed. The appointment was booked for two days later, on the Wednesday. I nipped home, got changed, and returned with the glasses.
“I can tell these are a bit weaker than mine were. Can I try the ones you’re wearing?” I gave them to her. “I can see better with these than I could with my glasses. They seem a bit too strong, but they’re better than the other ones. Can I borrow these instead?”
Vicky was a good friend, but I couldn’t let her borrow my glasses, as I needed them, so she had to stick with the old pair. No-one at school was any the wiser, although I did catch her squinting to see clearly once or twice.
When I saw Vicky again on Thursday morning, I asked her how her sight test had gone.
“Not very well,” she admitted. “My eyes have changed quite a bit in the last fifteen weeks, and he said I needed a three-step increase in both eyes. We’ve ordered new glasses. They might be ready between Christmas and New Year, but I could well have to wait until January for them. He wants to see me again in just four months’ time.”
“Four months? I thought it was supposed to be once a year. I don’t have to go again until next August.”
We walked on in silence.
The winter grew colder as December drew on. We didn’t have a white Christmas, but it snowed heavily three days later, and the whole country ground to a standstill. Most people stayed at home during those extra few days, and we also had a couple of snow days at school because there had been no-one on site to clear the paths when it snowed. Vicky’s new glasses eventually came in towards the middle of the month. She had had to go nearly four weeks wearing my old glasses, and when we tried swapping glasses, she wasn’t sure she couldn’t see better with mine than she could with hers.
The issue didn’t arise again until after the Easter holidays, when Vicky came back to school with another new pair of glasses. Whether she had had an accident with the previous pair or not, I could see that the new pair was noticeably stronger. She had tried to persuade her mum that she didn’t need another eye test, because she didn’t want to wear thick glasses, but her mum had insisted – and she was now wearing the result. I could see very well with them on, but I could also tell that they were a bit stronger than I really needed. At this point, our discussion turned to Summer Camp, and how she thought she might have needed glasses even before last year’s, so when she was given the chance to wear my glasses, she jumped at it. They had taken a bit of getting used to, but by the end of the fortnight, she had felt she was seeing quite well with them. We also talked about the things we were really looking forward to this year – and one or two things we weren’t. Vicky said that she had decided that it was my turn to wear her glasses for two weeks, since they suited me so well. I had to take her word for that, as I hadn’t been able to see what they looked like on me. I wasn’t really in a position to argue. She had worn my glasses for two weeks last year so it was only fair we swapped again.
“But if I’m wearing these glasses, what are you going to wear? Everyone there knows you as someone who wears glasses, and you can’t go around in a blur for two weeks. You’d be a danger to yourself.”
“Good point. I could wear my old glasses, or you could wear my old glasses, and…” She tailed off. “I may have to think of something else.”
The last term of the school year was extremely busy. Not only did we have normal lessons, but there was also a week of exams and an activities week crammed into it. It felt like we were being made to work extra hard so that the teachers could afford to let us relax for six weeks – and even then, they set us work to be done during the Summer holidays! Still, there were a few compensations, and the highlight was definitely the visit to a theme park on the other side of London. I may not be the biggest fan of roller-coasters, but you can get on far more rides if you go for the less-popular, smaller attractions. Thus, Vicky and I decided to see how many rides we could manage in the course of a day, not lining up for anything with a queue of over 30 minutes.
It was about an hour before we were due to leave that we managed to get on to the log flume. It was probably not the best decision we had made. The day was warm and dry, without being particularly hot, and there was always the danger that our clothes would be wet when we got on the coach to come home. However, there was no queue at all, so it seemed a shame not to have a go, as we had already managed 17 rides on 11 different attractions during the course of the day. The attendants must have been pretty bored because, although they reminded us to take our glasses off, they forgot to check that we had. At least, I had, but Vicky didn’t, and when we hit the final water splash, we flew forward in our log, and Vicky’s glasses kept on going. We did report the loss to the attendants, who said they’d have a look for them after the ride closed for the evening, but we had to go and get on the coach without them.
Vicky’s mum was more than a little annoyed when we told her what had happened. We tried to make it sound like it had been an accident, but there was no disguising the fact that Vicky shouldn’t have been wearing the glasses in the first place. She got a lecture on taking care of her property, as she had had three pairs of glasses during the school year, and had lost one and broken another. Vicky sat very quietly, knowing that her mother was right. She needed to let her get it off her chest.
“You were due another eye test before going back to school, so I’ll give them a ring in the morning and see what they say.”
It was three days later that I found myself sitting in the optician’s waiting room, while Vicky had her eyes tested. Her mum had had to take a couple of hours off work, so that she could be there to sign the various forms, and then I was going to help her choose a new pair of glasses. In the event, it didn’t take long, as we already had a pretty good idea of what suited her, and we were done in just over the hour. They said there would be a 10-14 day wait for the glasses to come in, which wasn’t particularly good news for Vicky, as we were going away in 9 days’ time. However, she had managed to persuade her mum to let her order a back-up pair off a site she had found on the internet, where they offered a 50% discount if you didn’t get your glasses in a week, and 100% if it took more than two. Given how accident-prone Vicky had been with her glasses to date, it seemed a very sensible idea.
We spent hours trying on the glasses online. Vicky couldn’t decide whether to opt for something similar to what she had just ordered at the optician’s, or whether to go for something completely different. In the end, she went for something a similar shape, but in a frame colour described as “midnight blue”, rather than the dark brown she had chosen earlier. When it came to entering the prescription, we realised we didn’t know what we needed, so we had to give her mum a ring to find out where she had put it. It turned out that she had filed it with all of Vicky’s other prescriptions, so we could have a look back at them: -1.50 for the first pair of glasses, which she had broken; -2.25 for the glasses she had got at Christmas, and which she was wearing at the moment; -3.00 for the glasses she had lost at the theme park, and -3.75 on the prescription she had just been given. When it came to measuring her pupillary distance, we couldn’t find it on any of the paperwork, so we had to find out how to do it online. It took longer to measure than it should have, as every time we were about to do the measuring, one or other of us had a fit of the giggles.
“I’ve had a thought,” Vicky said, as we were about to complete the order. “Why don’t I order my next pair of glasses now? Then I’ll have them ready for when I need them.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Look, every four months, these numbers go up by an extra 0.75. Why don’t I just add that on now, and I’ll have the glasses I need when it comes to December? I might even get away with not needing to get my eyes tested if I do that.”
I couldn’t think of any particular flaws in Vicky’s plan, so she adjusted the prescription to -4.50 for both eyes, and then used her mum’s credit card to place the order. The glasses were due to arrive two days before we went away. Vicky was happy that she would be able to see fairly clearly after all, even if she had to wear the stronger pair.
In the event, she got a call to pick up her glasses from the optician’s a week later, and then got home to find her other pair had also been delivered while she was out. As she wasn’t doing anything else, she came round to show me them. I could tell that one pair was a bit stronger by looking at them, and Vicky said she could tell the difference while she was wearing them. She also said she could have gone through Summer Camp in the stronger pair if they had been the only ones she had, because they were better than the old pair she had been wearing for the last fortnight. I was also made to try them on, so Vicky could see for herself what the difference looked like to others. She agreed with me: if you knew you were looking for a difference, it was quite easy to tell which was the stronger pair, but if you didn’t, you probably wouldn’t notice. From my point of view, both pairs were too strong for me. I knew I was going to have an eye test before going back to school, and that I would probably need stronger glasses, but -3.75 was too strong.
When we got up to the Lakes, we chose exactly the same bunks as we had the year before. After she had finished unpacking, Vicky produced two glasses cases and asked me to choose.
“By the terms of our bet, you should be wearing the glasses I’ve got on at the moment. If you can pick the empty case, you can wear these, but if you get the case with my spare pair, you have to wear them for the fortnight.” I tried desperately to remember which pair lived in which case from when Vicky had brought them round two days earlier.
“I’ll take the black case,” I said, after a few moments’ hesitation. “I think that’s the one the glasses you’re wearing came in.”
“Well remembered,” smiled Vicky. “There you are.” She was about to hand me the case, but before doing so, she gave it a quick shake. It rattled. “I swapped them over, so you get to look like me in four months’ time.”
My World became more blurry than I was used to, as I took my own glasses off, and put on Vicky’s stronger pair. These glasses were twice as strong as my own, even if they were now on the weak side. They certainly took some getting used to. Fortunately, I wasn’t having to do any close work, and for distances, I could make things out reasonably well.
“Come on, let’s go downstairs and have a game of table tennis while we wait for the others to arrive.” Vicky and I are usually pretty evenly matched at table tennis, but on this occasion, she beat me soundly. I was still getting used to distances in the new glasses, so I kept mis-hitting the ball.
After my sound thrashing, we went for a wander down to the lake shore. I would have loved to ask to be allowed to wear my own glasses, or at least Vicky’s other pair, but my sense of fairness prevented me from doing so. True, these glasses were a lot stronger than the ones Vicky had worn all of last year, but at least I was used to wearing glasses. She hadn’t needed them at all before we went to Camp. Instead, I spent my time doing what most people do when they get a new pair of glasses – comparing how clearly they could see distant objects through the lenses and over the top of them.
“No cheating!”
“I wasn’t – I was just comparing things!”
The first couple of days, I found quite hard. I ended up going for a swim in a cold lake on day two, just for an excuse to take the glasses off for a bit, and a hike on day three, so that I was mostly able to concentrate on the views. It also meant that I was doing different activities to Vicky. There was a great temptation to leave them off while we were on the hike, or to swap them for my own, but I knew I would only struggle with them for longer if I took them off, so I persevered.
By week two, I was used to the stronger prescription. It was still too strong for me, but I had become accustomed to the changes it made to my vision, so there was less temptation to stop. There was one awkward moment when Vicky and I got into a conversation with a couple of boys. Like us, both of them wore glasses, so we ended up swapping glasses between the four of us, and saying long we had worn glasses. They were a bit surprised when Vicky said she had only had them for a year, especially as John had worn his for five years, and they were only a minus three. I didn’t say anything, but I could see best out of his glasses. Everyone remarked on how strong “my” glasses were, but I pointed out that I needed them to see clearly, so I didn’t really think in terms of strong or weak – it was just see well or not see well. Vicky gave me a funny look at that point, but she didn’t say anything. Even Vicky’s own glasses seemed easier to wear than they had been two weeks earlier.
All too soon, our time in the Lakes was up. We had had a wonderful fortnight away, doing all sorts of exciting things. I had wondered how to change back to my own glasses without anyone saying anything, but the typical Lake District weather gave me the chance to take Vicky’s glasses off as I made my way to the car, and put my own back on once I was out of the rain. I’d like to say that everything suddenly seemed much clearer, but that wouldn’t be true. Even once we had cleared the fog off the car windows, I still found myself wanting to put Vicky’s glasses back on. When we were alone at the motorway services, I managed to persuade her to let me borrow them until I got a new pair. I didn’t think I’d need a -4.50, but I would know in a couple of days’ time.
Once I was home, I wore Vicky’s glasses at every possible moment, as things seemed so much sharper than they were with my own. Tuesday morning came, and Mum took me into town for the earliest possible appointment. As I sat in the waiting room, I looked around me to try to read the signs. The big ones were easy; the medium ones were a little fuzzy. The small ones – well, they were meant for people who were standing right in front of them, weren’t they?
“Penny, would you like to come through, please?” What happened at last year’s Summer Camp had not stayed at Summer Camp for Vicky; I was about to find out whether it had or not for me…
https://vision-and-spex.com/what-happens-at-summer-camp-t1316.html