Testing the Waters
Published by Patty Hoppe and Cathy Tucker
Smashwords Edition
Copyright 2012 Patty Hoppe and Cathy Tucker
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Prologue
Smoky Mountains Explorer Camp
Twenty Years Ago
Sammy Morris blasted through the opening in the rustic cabin, the echo of the screen door reverberating behind him. Fists clenched, legs pumping, he threw himself across the lawn in front of the cabins, disappearing into the copse of evergreen trees.
“They can all drop dead,” he mumbled under his breath. “First, my parents send me here even though they knew I wanted to stay home. A lot they cared.”
He kicked a stone off the worn path. “Then I’m lucky enough to get three twerps for cabin mates. Fifteen minutes late and they left me behind. Didn’t want to go on that stupid bird watching hike anyway.”
“Sounds like you need to do something to get back at them.” A camper sitting on a rock startled him with his unsolicited response.
“I guess I could put ants in their beds or tie all their wet clothes together. That’d get ‘em.”
“Aw, just forget ‘em.”
“Yeah. I’ve heard that before. Didn’t work then. Doesn’t work now.”
The other camper marked his place in his book and jumped from his rocky perch. They walked along the path together.
Nervously, Sammy smoothed the front of his neon orange Junior Explorer’s t-shirt. “Ray, I just wanna get through the next few weeks in one piece without anyone bugging me.”
Tripping over the lace of one of his untied tennis shoes, he lost his balance momentarily, righting himself quickly on the edge of the rocky path.
“Hey, I wouldn’t get too close to that edge, Sammy. You could fall.”
Sammy looked around at the fog pushing the sun aside. Wispy fingers of smoke swirled around the two campers like silent ghosts. He shivered for a moment, then picked up a stone and threw it over the edge. The two boys watched it fall until they heard a plop at the bottom.
“Gee, it’s a long way down. I wouldn’t wanna’ follow that stone. Nobody’d ever find me,” said Ray.
Sammy drifted into a scenario where he was lost and his parents had to join the search for him, identifying his body and crying over the way they’d treated him. He could almost imagine the funeral. All his friends would….
“Sammy, Sammy. Where’d you go?” demanded Ray. “Looked like you were in outer space for a minute there.”
“No….not outer space. Just thinking ‘bout home for a minute.”
Ray looked at his watch. “Well. I’ve got dinner duty tonight. Gotta go. Wanna go back?”
“Naw. Got some thinkin’ to do. Catch ya later.”
The foggy air cleared just as a sudden bolt of lightening struck miles off. The wind whistled, and a strong scent of rain pierced Sammy’s nose. He continued on, walking along the trail close to the edge of the ravine. Absently, he played daredevil, sliding the tip of his shoe over the stones lining the precipice.
With a roar, in seconds the ground disappeared under his feet. He tumbled over and over until his body stopped its descent, trapped between two rocks. He tried to scale one, but fell even further into the crevice. As he looked up through a slit, he could see dark clouds covering the mountain side. His last thought was of his parents. Maybe they weren’t so bad after all. What would they do if the never found his body? Who would remember he’d been a camper here? Who would even remember his name?
Chapter One
Present Day
Merrell, Tennessee
June 20th
“Reid, I had to call you! Did you hear that the sheriff’s digging up the cold case file on Sammy Morris? That legend of the lost camper you’ve told me really must be true, right?” Jamie Callahan asked breathlessly over her newly purchased Smart Phone.
“Hi to you too, Jamie,” Reid laughed. “Yeah, that’s the little kid’s name. I’ve heard the story of Sammy every year I’ve been to camp. Pretty exciting. Where’d you hear about it?”
“Check out the Mountain Daily; it’s in the local section online,” Jamie ordered. “It retells the whole incident when he disappeared. As much as they know, anyway.”
“Awesome! Now I’ll finally get the real story of what happened to Sammy. I’ve heard so many versions, I’m not sure what to believe.”
“Well, check it out as soon as we get off,” urged her friend. “Oh, and I read your text a few minutes ago. It’s great that you’re getting the Explorer’s camp scholarship again. What’d the letter say?” Jamie’s voice rose in volume with each question.
Reid Williams pulled the telephone receiver away from her right ear to lessen the strident tones of her best friend, Jamie. Although she realized her friend was excited about the award, Jamie tended to react to any type of news, negative or positive, with her usual dramatic enthusiasm.
Their friendship surprised both of them. Reid, lightly freckled and friendly, approached life with a scientific scrutiny; Jamie, a shy strawberry blonde, turned every situation into a drama. Even their physical appearances lay at opposite ends of the spectrum. Reid, tall and lanky, excelled in academics. Jamie, a compact dynamo, lived for volleyball and the theater. However, both teenagers relied on the total honesty and support they received from their unusual friendship.
Anticipating another serious discussion, Reid curled up on the leather sofa in the den, smiling as she answered the one friend who was not afraid to express an opinion or to give advice. “The usual. I got the scholarship for July and have to decide right away.”
“You don’t sound excited. I’d call everyone I know.”
“You’re the phone addict, not me,” pointed out Reid, grinning to herself as she pictured her friend running around Merrell with her cell phone plastered to her ear. Everyone in town would know the news of her scholarship by the end of the day.
“But I don’t get it. I thought you loved the Smoky Mountains!”
“It’s the Great Smoky Mountains. The Director corrects everyone.”
“Great or not, it’s all you talked about for months. What happened to staying longer this year so you could actually dig into some project? You said the scholarship was the only way you could afford it.”
“True, but don’t act like I won some major prize. I guess I don’t really know why I was chosen. Now the pressure’s on. I hoped a summer there would give me some direction for my future career,” Reid said as she shifted restlessly on the cold leather seat. “At least for a college major.”
“Well, this should do it. You’ll be able to focus on some research that may get you noticed by a bunch of colleges. I know what your problem is…” She paused. “Things always come too easy for you. Have you ever been turned down for anything?”
“Well, uh, no.” She waited a few seconds before continuing. “If you want to know, I’m feeling a little guilty.”
“Guilty? About what?”
“Supposedly part of the reason I won the scholarship was my interest in science outside the classroom. What interest? I haven’t done much since middle school.”
“Hello.... Don’t you think it took science to explain to all of us the reason for the high school roof collapse? Don’t you watch CSI?”
“Well, I guess I did use forensic science.” She added with sarcasm, “And with my new found psychic gifts, maybe I’ll be the queen of some kind of new occult science!”
Jamie giggled. “Oh, come on. You do have some kind of sixth sense, but I doubt that will be too useful at your camp. Unless it helps you uncover the legend of Lost Sammy.”
“Let’s hope nothing dramatic happens so that I’ll need to use it…and to be honest I don’t want it. I’d rather stick to the environmental stuff.”
Jamie agreed. “I don’t blame you. Seeing ghosts is a little scary. Maybe instead you should start a recycling group like the one at school. Remember the tons of paper everybody used to throw away? Remember the chart in the hallway that showed how many trees we’ve saved at our school alone?”
“But I really haven’t done anything concrete. What have I proven? What have I changed? What have I discovered?” Reid shot off a list of questions in a staccato tone.
“Reid, you’re in high school; you’re not Madame Curie.”
“Duh, and I never will be,” said Reid, twisting a lock of her auburn hair as she attempted to make her friend understand her unsettled frame of mind. “It’s hard to describe my feelings, especially over the phone.”
Reid could picture Jamie with a vein throbbing in her neck as she warmed up to her favorite subject—Reid’s compulsive behavior. “You’re a junior. You’re supposed to be having fun, going to the prom, playing volleyball. Not trying to win the Nobel Prize,” retorted Jamie with an edge of exasperation in her voice.
“I know. I guess I’m just being silly, but I want to do something to make a difference this summer. I don’t have that many left before college.”
“Actually, there’s only one left after this, if you want to be specific.”
“That extra stress really helps, Jamie.”
“Well, you always claim you work better under pressure. Maybe this’s just what you needed. Do I assume you’re going?”
“Yes, of course. Guess I can’t turn them down. What else would I do all summer here in Merrell?”
“You could always join the community theater. You can try out to be Juliet.” Her voice took a dramatic turn. “‘O Romeo. Wherefore art thou, Romeo?’ I think that’s the play they’re doing this summer.”
“No. I liked the theater class we took last semester, but I just want to be involved with the environment for the summer. I’m not looking for any more drama. The roof collapsing at our high school was enough for a lifetime.”
“My last piece of advice…”
“Can I get that in writing?”
Jamie ignored her friend. “As I was saying, my last piece of advice for today is to answer your letter, go to camp and enjoy yourself. That’s plenty for one summer.”
“I think that’s three pieces of advice, but who’s counting?”
“You know what I mean.”
“You’re right. Obsessing over it isn’t going to change things anyway.”
“Maybe you’ll meet someone new. Not many interesting guys at Merrell High.”
“Besides Brad, you mean. Who’ll I meet at camp? A science whiz? A chemistry nerd?”
“Stranger things have happened.”
“Wish I would find someone from a totally different background. I don’t think there’s much chance of that happening buried in the mountains.” Her voice shifted. “Well, I’m off to send an e-mail. See ya later.” Reid snapped her cell shut and moved to her computer.
Sitting down, she hesitated for a few minutes before beginning her typing, her head in her hand, her elbow resting on the desk. She swiveled her chair and stared out the window. Distracted for a few minutes by the palette of colors along the back fence, she watched as the Tennessee dusk fell.
The mountains intersected the horizon in the background, cutting geometric figures into the darkening sky. Mountain laurel dotted the hillside, and pink and red climbing roses cascaded over the weathered fence running across the back property line. Daffodils lined the stone walkway. Her mother’s pink rhododendron bushes bloomed in colorful clumps under the window sills.
Her brown tabby cat hopped onto her lap, and she stroked her soft fur pensively. Suddenly, a cold chill snaked down her spine. She shook so much the feline jumped to the floor and ran off. Reid watched her pet disappear, then said to herself, “I’m a scientist. I’m not going to have any more of that psychic stuff happening again.” She hesitated for a moment. “I hope.”
Chapter Two
The rain danced against the windows in a syncopated rhythm for most of the afternoon while Reid waited at the pickup spot designated in the camp travel directions. Sitting on one side of the station, she opened a book and lost herself in the latest offering of her favorite mystery author. Several chapters later, as she dragged herself from the heroine’s desperate race through the Swiss Alps to escape a stalker, she slowly became aware of a change in tempo around her. The soft steady raindrops pinging gently against the metal roof had turned into a full-fledged storm. Sheets of rain blew angrily against the weathered bus station, cascading down the sides, forming deep swirling pools of water on the ground.
The sudden storm brought back memories of her last summer at camp. There hadn’t been many campers her age, and the classes and labs weren’t much more complicated than those in freshman chemistry. She’d wasted the whole session, hadn’t learned anything except how good it was to return home.
Maybe this summer’d be different, Reid thought. As an experienced camper, she’d be involved with more intricate and demanding experiments. Maybe one of them would give her an idea of what she was going to do after graduation. College decisions had to be made, and she wasn’t any closer to deciding what she wanted to do with her life than when she was twelve and wanted to be a ballerina. Selecting a career in science was a start, but it wasn’t going to impress any college admission committees.
Maybe Jamie was lucky. At least she knew what she wanted. Being an actress wouldn’t be easy, but then what was? Pushing her hair off her cheek, she glanced at her watch, sighed, and returned to her book, totally ignoring the people sitting in identical uncomfortable seats around the musty waiting room.
A dramatic peal of thunder broke the silence, rattling the panes of glass in the tall windows. The dusty crystal chandeliers, swaying above the old oak pews, blinked several times before dimming, bathing the room in an incandescent glow. A second clap of thunder dimmed them completely. People fidgeted nervously in their seats and exchanged anxious murmurs.
“Don’t worry, folks,” said a disembodied voice from behind the tarnished grill of the ticket window. “Any second now the auxiliary power’ll kick in.”
Just as the lights flickered on, the front door blew open. A tall man stumbled into the waiting room, struggling to push the door closed behind him. His dark hair was plastered to his head. Rivulets of rain streamed from his drenched clothing, pooling on the dusty linoleum floor. Shaking himself to get rid of the surface water, he approached the ticket window, tugging off a short yellow rain pouch. He yanked off his glasses and wiped them with a tattered tissue he pulled from a pocket in his khaki shorts.
“I’m picking up several campers here for the Smoky Mountain Explorers’ Camp. Can you make an announcement?” he asked the wizened old man perched on a stool behind the dusty copper grillwork.
Slowly removing the toothpick from his mouth, the elderly ticket agent looked the stranger over before he drawled, “PA’s not working any better’n the lights.” A touch of scorn entered his gruff voice. “Guess you’ll just have to shout out yourself, sonny. Don’t get many summer storms like this ‘round here.”
“I can’t ever remember one like this. It’s raining so hard, I couldn’t see where I was driving. I expected to see cats and dogs pour down any moment,” he joked, but grimaced as he received no response from the ticket agent. “Had to pull off the road for a while after I picked up the younger campers. That’s why I’m so late.”
Turning from the window to face the assembled travelers, he raised his voice, “If you’re waiting for transport to the Explorers’ Camp, it’s here.”
A rustle of activity greeted his announcement. Reid gathered her duffle bag and her bulging back pack. After carefully marking her place in her thick book, she stuck it under her arm and walked toward the driver. A skinny teenage boy, who had sat alone on a bench in the back, pushed his glasses up on his nose, secreted his cell phone in a black leather case and moved his battered suitcase to wait patiently in line. He avoided eye contact with any of the other teens. Waving away any help with her suitcases, a compactly built, dark haired girl dragged them to the edge of the small crowd forming around the driver. A blonde in matching shorts and shirt, long braid hanging down over her left shoulder, joined the group. She nudged two navy blue and red oversize suitcases into line with her foot, keeping up a steady stream of conversation with everyone around her. As she chattered, she kept her eye on a young man who arrived at the last minute. Tall, sturdily built, and handsome, he strode toward the group with the confidence of an Olympic athlete.
“I’ve got others waiting in the van. Let’s get going,” commanded the driver, as he stuck several small pieces of luggage under one arm and gestured toward the front door. “Sounds like a letup in the rain. Maybe it’ll last ‘til we load up.”
The group straggled out the door and splashed through the deep puddles of water to a dark blue van with ‘Great Smoky Mt. Explorers’ Camp’ written in white gothic style letters on the side. Two ghostly young faces peered out from windows fogged with moisture. The new group of campers stashed their belongings and noisily settled in the open seats. They averted their eyes from the shy camper as he took his place, hunched in a protective stance over the square zippered bag he’d refused to leave in the back of the van.
The driver, after closing all the doors, slid into his rain-dampened seat. Turning to the back, he said, “Maybe you guys could introduce yourselves while we’re traveling. It’ll take us ‘bout an hour—maybe longer—to get to camp. Might as well do something while we’re on the road.”
“Who’re you?” asked a timid young voice from the back seat.
“Bill DeWitt, chauffeur and part time handyman. Anything goes wrong at camp, they call me to fix it.” Before he turned to put the keys in the ignition, he pointed to Reid. “Why don’t you start?” he suggested.
“Ok. I’m Reid Williams, from right here in Tennessee. I’ll be a junior this fall and this’s my fourth time at camp.” She turned to the girl sitting next to her and nudged her. “Your turn.”
“I’m Jennie Parker, from San Diego. I’m a sophomore, and I’ve never been here before,” she said as she pushed a few strands of blonde hair back into her braid, her fingers tipped with bright purple polish.
“Looks like you spent some time in a beauty parlor before you left, judging by that make-up,” observed the dark-haired girl.
Jennie flushed and twisted her hands nervously in her lap. With an insincere grin, she retorted, “Maybe I can give you a few tips while we’re at camp.”
The dark-haired girl narrowed her eyes. “How long do you think that polish will last in the mountains?”
“I brought a life-time supply with me. I’m prepared for anything.”
“Yeah. Right.” The girl rolled her eyes. “I’m Tricia Gonzalez. This’s my first time here; in fact, it’s my first time away from home in Texas, even though I’m a senior. Thought my brothers never would let me out of their sight.”
“Yes! I knew I recognized that drawl,” said Reid. “How many brothers do you have?”
“Four. Might as well have four more parents. They have issues. Serious issues.”
“Like what?”
“For starters, they don’t believe I’m capable of doing anything without their total supervision.”
“I think it’s sweet. I’ve always wanted a brother to worry about me.”
“I wish they’d worry about someone else. It’s a pain after a while. They cross-examine all my friends. Their mission in life seems to be scaring away any boy who talks to me.”
The tall blond young man seated near the back of the van finally offered his name. “Johnny Russo. I‘m from Chicago. Just to let you know, I am not a science geek. Sports are more my style. Hope there‘s some chance of competing at this camp.” He stretched his long legs out into the narrow bus aisle.
“Oh, there‘s competition all right,” Reid offered. “Maybe not the kind you’d want. Why would you sign up for a science camp if you‘re not interested?”
“Two words. My parents. They’re on a kick to get me into MIT. Like that‘s gonna happen. Plus, what better way to get rid of a kid so they can travel all over Europe again? “
“Well, I think this camp’ll surprise you. There’re lots of chances to compete. And with all of the hiking we do, you’ll be in great aerobic shape by the time you leave.”
Jennie watched the exchange and glanced flirtatiously toward Johnny as she chimed in, “You look like you’re already in great shape to me.”
“Oh my God,” Tricia groaned as she rolled her eyes impatiently. “Are you for real, Jennie? That sounds like some lame line one of my brothers would use on a hot girl.”
“I think I know what I’m doing, Tricia. I suggest…” Jennie’s argument was interrupted by Reid.
“Okay, guys, enough. We haven’t even gotten to camp yet. Let’s wait until we’ve had at least a few hours together before we start the snarkiness.”
The momentary tension was broken by a sweet young voice coming from the front seat of the bus. “It’s our turn. Did you forget ‘bout us?”
“No,” said Reid. “We saved the best ‘til last. Are you high school students?” she asked with a grin.
“No!” the young voice snickered. “We’ll be nine years old in three days. I’m Alexa and this’s Amy. We’re twins,” she explained unnecessarily as she pointed to the girl next to her. She twisted a strand of hair nervously between her thumb and forefinger.
The group turned to the one boy left. Bill’s eyes watched him in the rear view mirror. Turning a bright shade of red, he blurted out, “I’m Brent Thompson. I’m a junior. That’s all you need to know.” He turned away from the surprised stares, his mouth in a position of stubborn defiance. He gazed out the window on his left, engrossed in the passing scenery.
To break the uncomfortable silence, Reid said, “Looks like a good time to be someplace else already.”
The sky had turned a dark shade of black with an almost eerie greenish tinge. Clouds rolled across the sky, pushed from behind by a howling wind of increasing velocity. Strong gusts battered the van as it slowly climbed the winding road to the camp. The wipers on the front windows of the van worked furiously to clear off the fat drops of rain and the wisps of fog drifting across the road. The air crackled with static electricity. Lightening flickered constantly providing a summer fireworks show in the background. Thunder boomed louder and louder, reverberating around the van. The young twins moved nervously in their seats, whimpering quietly as they pulled warm gray sweatshirts over their short sleeved t-shirts.
“Reminds me of the legend of Sammy, the lost camper of the Smoky Mountains,” said Bill, looking at the younger campers again in his rear view mirror to judge the reception his statement would cause. “Happened just on a night like this one.”
“You tellin’ a ghost story?” asked a quivering voice from the back, as Amy moved closer to her twin.
“No. We don’t have many ghosts at camp. Least not ones I’ve met. It was a real camper, a young boy, prob’ly eight or nine years old. His first time at camp too. Happened in the middle of a storm. Everyone was s’posed to be on a hiking adventure. But Sammy was late for the hike as usual, and the director decided to teach him a lesson by leaving him behind.”
The occupants of his van leaned closer to the front seat waiting for Bill to continue. “What happened next?” asked Tricia. Even Brent, who had pretended not to listen to the story, leaned a little closer to the storyteller.
“Thunder was booming. Lightening was coming so fast and furious, it looked like daylight. It struck a tree behind the camp, split the darn thing in half.. The ole trunk’s still there today. You can look for it tomorrow after breakfast.”
“Never mind ‘bout tomorrow, what happened to Sammy?” prodded Reid. She knew about the sheriff investigating it again but wanted the other campers to hear the story as she had so many times. This time hearing it felt different. If the sheriff‘s office found anything new, the story would go from legend to a real tragedy She hoped that the likelihood the legend was real wouldn’t stimulate her newly discovered sixth sense, especially after experiencing the ghostly apparitions she had witnessed last spring at Merrell High.
Bill continued. “A storm came up out of nowhere and the campers returned to their cabins earlier than they expected to. Sammy was nowhere to be found, not in the cabins, the bathrooms, or in the woods nearby. The downpour was like it is now. It rained so hard you couldn‘t see your hand in front of your face. It was almost impossible to carry on any kind of real search, but all of us-- the campers, the sheriff‘s deputies, and the staff--did the best we could to retrace any path we thought Sammy may have followed.”
Bill paused for effect, glancing in the rear view mirror to make sure the campers were still listening. “When nighttime came we had to give up our search. Next morning we all got up the minute the sun did so we could start searching all over again.”
“What happened? Did he fall off the side of the mountain?” asked Amy.
“Or maybe get eaten by a huge black bear?” asked Alexa, sitting on the edge of her seat. “I saw them on the Discovery channel. They looked mean.”
“No……when the cook went to the kitchen to start the coffee for breakfast, he noticed the door to the pantry was open.”
“What’d he see?” yelled several young voices in tandem.
“Well…..it was Sammy alright. There he was on the floor of the kitchen. Wearing his bright neon orange shirt, all covered in dirt. The cook looked to grab a phone to call for help, but the minute he turned around again to help Sammy up, the kid was gone.”
“So what happened? “interrupted Brent. “Sounds like some story an English teacher might make us read. Doesn’t sound much like a legend to me.”
“Now that’s where you’re wrong. We never found him. No trace at all. The Sheriff and family looked for a week. As the story goes, anyone goin’ out in the middle of a storm, sees lightening, but it’s not really lightening. It’s Sammy tryin’ to light up the sky so he can find the trail where the other campers were hiking. Thunder is Sammy’s way of sending up signals for help.”
Bill looked again into the mirror, noticing with satisfaction that his story had distracted the campers, the youngest in particular, from the fury of the storm battering the van. “Every time you run into a big noisy storm, just remember Sammy, the lost camper.”
Smiling at the success of his story, he turned his eyes back to the road in time to stare into bright headlights aimed directly at the front window of the van. Momentarily blinded, he yanked the wheel to the right, fighting to regain control as the van hydroplaned across the slippery asphalt, missing the oncoming car by seconds. Screams filled the inside of the van as it careened back and forth from one side of the road to the other. Distracted for a moment, Bill’s fingers turned white as he desperately clutched the steering wheel. Finally, the momentum carried the van to the right side of the road. It tilted precariously on two tires before sliding off the slick pavement onto the shoulder, where it settled in the mud with a shudder.
“Stop that yelling. We’re not hurt. Don’t anyone move a muscle,” Bill ordered in a shaky voice. “I’ve gotta’ check the van.” He opened the door and vanished into the stormy darkness.
Reid, in a trembling voice said, “That was like a ride on a roller coaster.”
“I hate roller coasters,” announced Amy, shrinking into her seat.
“Maybe Sammy’s trying to play video games with us,” said Jennie in a nervous attempt at humor. “Bill said he’d be around in a storm.”
Johnny looked annoyed. “Please. A little kid causing a storm? And I guess these twins are a newer version of those creepy girls in The Shining.
“I’d think a Stephen King fan would believe in the supernatural,” Reid countered.
“Supernatural? That’s one of my brother’s favorite TV shows!” Alexa offered.
The half-hearted laughter was interrupted by Bill’s return. He opened the door and threw his rain-drenched body back into the front seat. “Dang fool drivers. People like that shouldn’t be allowed on the road,” he said as he eased the van back onto the pavement and slowly accelerated. “Van looks ok. How’re all of you?”
“We’re fine,” declared Reid as her eyes met those of Bill in the mirror. The all too familiar cold chill followed by goose bumps brought back memories of the unease she felt last spring at Merrell High. They had come whenever she sensed something unexplained, leading her toward sensing who caused the deadly events last spring. She grimaced at the recollection.
“You okay?” Johnny whispered as he stretched toward the attractive red head he sat behind “You look like you did just see a ghost.”
She shuddered and kept her voice at a low level. “I just have a feeling this summer’s going to be full of surprises, and not all of them good ones.”
Chapter Three
A blue jay screamed to his mate in the tall trees outside the cabin where Reid, Tricia and Jennie slept. The incessant noise woke Reid abruptly from a deep sleep. She struggled awake, listening to the unfamiliar morning sounds outside the cabin. The aroma of frying bacon finally drew her out of her warm cocoon of blankets. Shivering in the cool morning air, she dressed quickly in a pair of white shorts and a navy sweatshirt and tiptoed out of the dark cabin, closing the door carefully behind her. The other girls were mummies, wrapped snugly in their red and beige striped blankets.
The rising sun pushed away the night shadows, casting golden ribbons of sunlight into the silent camp. As she sauntered toward the dining hall, a ray of light temporarily blinded her. She shaded her eyes, squinted, and saw a flash of neon orange bouncing off the window of the next cabin. Another cold chill turned into an involuntary shiver. Turning around to see what kind of orange object the window reflected, she scanned the area dominated only by shades of green and brown, the natural colors of the earth, pine trees and grass. Shaking her head in confusion, she moved closer to the window. Just around the corner of the cabin strode Johnny, the good looking boy she’d met briefly the day before during the trip to camp. Casually dressed in denim shorts and a cut-off sweatshirt, it was obvious he’d spent time in a gym building his bulging arm muscles. He held a fishing pole in one hand and a string of fish in the other, their scales iridescent jewels in the sunlight. “What are you up to?” she asked, glad to have a distraction. “You seem to be getting into the spirit of camp fast.”
“Might as well. I’m going to spend most of the summer here.” A fleeting look of anger passed so quickly across his face, Reid wasn’t sure she’d seen it. He shook himself and continued, “I’m Johnny Russo, in case you don’t remember. From Chicago. You seemed pretty shook up after the accident. Not the best of trips.”
“I remember you, Johnny Russo from Chicago. Why’re you really spending the summer here? It couldn’t just be just to get you out of your parents’ hair.”
“Trust me. That’s exactly why. It sure wasn’t my choice, but I’m used to taking care of myself.” Changing the subject he asked, “How ‘bout some food? I smelled bacon and pancakes all the way from the lake.”
“That’s a relief. For a minute there, I was afraid we’d have to catch our own breakfast.” Reid smiled as she looked pointedly at the string of fish.
“No, they won’t make you catch your food until the second day,” Johnny said with a friendly grin.
“The third day I have to catch enough to feed the whole camp?” Reid ruined the impact of her question by smiling.
“Can’t keep any secrets from you, huh?”
Reid’s stomach growled.
Johnny, taking note of the red flush creeping up from Reid’s neck, covered a smile by coughing. “Follow me,” he said. “We’d better hurry of the food may all be gone.” He glanced appreciatively at Reid’s toned legs.
As the two walked down the narrow path between the trees, Reid looked at the mountain scenery, which had been cloaked in darkness the night before. The campgrounds nestled into the middle of a canopy of tall trees that provided shade from the heat of the day. Flowers grew at random, spilling their reds, yellows and pinks into every available niche.
In the junction of grassy walkways running from the main path, cabins rose in front of the towering pines. Each cabin was named for a giant in the science world: Curie, Einstein, Des Cartes, Newton, etc. The square dining hall, aptly named after Pasteur, sprawled in the middle of the camp, stone steps leading up to two screened doors. The odors of toast and frying bacon wafted from the screened windows and floated through the camp. Reid’s stomach growled a second time.
“Hope we made it here before you pass out from hunger,” grinned Johnny.
“Why do bacon and coffee always smell better than they actually taste?” asked Reid, ignoring his comment.
“Same reason hot dogs are always better at a ball game.”
As they walked up to the screened porch, Johnny whispered in Reid’s ear, “Grab a tray, and I’ll meet you at that last table in the back. Trust me, from what I’ve heard, we don’t want to be in the front when Snyder gives his welcome to camp speech.”
“I’ve been here before. I can second that thought.” She watched him shoulder his rod and fish. “Aren’t you eating? Where’re you going?” asked Reid.
“To drop off my catch with the cook and wash the smell of worms from my hands before I eat.”
“Good plan. Worms and omelets probably don’t mix.” Reid grinned again as she watched him walk away. The summer might have more appeal than it appeared at first, she thought.
Once inside the dining cabin, Reid passed the cholesterol-loaded entrees and instead selected a nutritious meal of strawberry yogurt, wheat muffins and orange juice from the buffet line stretched across the left side of the dining room. She headed for the back of the room, looking forward to eating her breakfast with Johnny. Part way there, she was intercepted by Paula Johnson, the camp nurse, a youngish widow who volunteered her time at the camp each year to escape the summer heat and humidity of New York City. “You’d better eat more than that for breakfast, Reid. I hear you’re going on a hike this morning. You’ll be wishing you’d had more food to stick to your ribs before you’re done.”
“I want it to stick to my ribs, not my hips,” laughed Reid. “You don’t have to worry about me. I always carry a few energy bars with me anytime I leave camp. Never know when they’ll come in handy.”
“Those things! They’re like eating tree bark mixed with grass. Never could understand why people eat those when they could have something tasty like a peanut butter sandwich or a pizza topped with everything,” replied Nurse Johnson, brushing crumbs from her white slacks.
“Reid, over here,” yelled Johnny as he waved her toward a pine table in the back.
She transferred her food expertly from a gray plastic tray to the table. Taking a seat on the end, she sprinkled granola over her strawberry yogurt. “Where’s everyone?” she asked as she looked around at the nearly empty room.
“The younger campers are in their own dining room. Guess they’ll keep them separate from us. We’ll be glad since they get up at 6:00 AM. or some early hour like that. Who in their right mind would get up then….unless they were still up from the night before?”
“What da’ you think of all the new campers? I didn’t have time to talk to most of them yet,” asked Reid wrinkling her nose at his question. “We rode in the van with Bill, but not everybody here did.”
“Don’t worry. I’m a genius at memory games,” boasted Johnny. “Michael Jameson’s right up in front.” He waved a fork in the general direction. “He’s the tall kid with the dreadlocks. Tall enough to play basketball, but I don’t think he’s the athletic type. He’s also wearing jeans.”
She glanced down at her own shorts and his cut offs. “Guess nobody’s told him it starts out chilly in the morning, but it’ll be hot here by afternoon.”
“Looks like he’d faint if anyone said boo to him. I think he might be afraid of his own shadow. In fact, I’ll call him ‘The Shadow.’”
Reid finished the last of her health food muffin. Glancing at the breakfast piled on Johnny’s plate, she reached over with her fork and stabbed a fat sausage. Chewing it slowly, she asked, “Do you have a nickname for everyone here?”
“Yes. Sometimes they pop right up, and sometimes I have to wait for inspiration to hit, but everyone gets one,” he replied. “”Guess that health food isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, is it?” he grinned as she finished the sausage link she’d appropriated from his breakfast plate.
Reid sheepishly put her empty fork back on the table and said, “I can hardly wait to hear mine.”
“I’m working on it,” said Johnny. “Meanwhile, back to the introductions. You’ll remember the girl sitting next to Michael. Name’s Tricia Gonzalez. She’s the one in the van last night who almost got in a fight with that girl Jennie before camp even started.”
“Oh yeah. Hope I don’t have to spend my time refereeing those two.”
“Boy, does she have a mind of her own. I tried to help her carry her stuff to her cabin, and she bit my head off.”
“I think she wants to prove she can do things by herself. She told us last night she has four much older brothers who are over-protective experts. They don’t think she can do anything on her own,” pointed out Reid.
“Well she doesn’t have to take it out on me. Over there’s that kid Brent Thompson. I think he’s got a chip on his shoulder the size of Tennessee,” predicted Johnny. He waved his fork in the general direction of Brent and sprayed maple syrup over the table in front of him.
“You’d probably have one too if you had to wear those thick glasses. He just needs some friends,” said Reid. She attempted to wipe up the syrup drops, but the napkin disintegrated, leaving white pyramid shaped pieces stuck to the pine table. Shrugging her shoulders, she picked up her orange juice, stuck a straw in the glass and looked at Johnny over the rim of her drink.
“Be my guest. All I did was start a conversation with him, and you’d think I was trying to pry national secrets out of the kid. I’m not stupid. I’ll be glad to leave him alone.”
“That’s probably the problem. Maybe everyone’s made him feel weird, so he acts that way, and everybody stays away from him.”
“Well, if he wants to act like a mole, hiding away in the dark from the world,…hey! That’s the nickname I’ll give him, ‘The Mole’.” He hesitated for a moment until he had Reid’s attention, then continued, “Did I miss something when we were introduced?”
She frowned, nervously smoothed the sides of her hair, and tucked them behind her ears. “What’re you talking about?”
“Somebody forgot to say you were a shrink,” smiled Johnny.
“I’m not. I just don’t like to judge people before I get to know them. Guess I’m working overtime, but your nickname won’t help Brent feel any better about himself,” said Reid with a stern look.
“Jennie’s sitting over there,” Reid nodded to the side of the room. “I think she’s painted her nails three times since we got here, and it’s only 9:00. She has a whole case of polish, lotions and gels. She offered to give me a manicure tonight. Can’t you just see me digging in the ground wearing Pink Passion polish? I hope she doesn’t break a fingernail; it’ll ruin her whole summer.”
“Now who’s being catty? Remember, you don’t judge.”
“You’re right. She might turn out to be the brain of the camp.” Reid laughed and her friend joined her.
“Stranger things have happened.”
Several sharp whistle blasts interrupted their conversation as the camp director, Gary Snyder, made his way to the front of the room. The energetic stout director dropped the whistle he wore on a silver chain around his neck and stared at the group of teenagers finishing their first camp meal. He smoothed non-existent wrinkles in his white long- sleeved shirt and picked a piece of lint off his forest green slacks as he waited for the campers to direct their undivided attention to him.
Johnny moved closer to Reid. “We’re taking bets on what day he’ll get his hair messed up. I think he puts a whole can of spray on it every morning. The brown boxes we saw stacked outside probably are his hair spray supply for the summer,” whispered Johnny as the Director glared in his direction. He sat up in his chair and looked innocent.
“Only Snyder would cleverly disguise his hair products in boxes labeled ‘sliced peaches,’” agreed Reid.
Johnny choked back a laugh. “Remember, we don’t judge.’
“Okay. Point well taken,” Reid admitted.
“Good morning, campers. Hope you’re ready to start today off right. For those who don’t know me, I’m Gary Snyder, Camp Director. My family’s been involved with this camp for over fifty years….”
“The man should be a history teacher. Every chance he gets, he repeats the history of his family and this camp. After a few times, you’ll be able to recite it along with him,” whispered Reid. “He never changes one word of the story.”
“…..and so here we are today, ready for the start of another camp session. We thought the best way to acclimate you to your new surroundings would be to take a short hike, just two miles this time. So, in about ten minutes, Agnes Rutherford, the Assistant Director, will meet you meet on the front lawn by the statue of Hippocrates,” he waved one pudgy hand carelessly in her direction. “She says there’s a special treat waiting for you at the end of your morning hike. Remember to take sun screen and to wear a bathing suit under your clothes.” He stopped abruptly and marched to the back of the dining room, where he leaned against the wall, waiting for the campers to follow his directions.
“Good,” said Jennie into the silence that greeted the announced morning activity, “I’ll wear my new bikini.”
“It’s good that you’d feel comfortable wearing one. Most girls your size wouldn’t,” said Tricia as she halted by the table.
Jennie turned a bright shade of red, but before she could reply, Johnny said, “I don’t know. I think she’ll fit right in with everyone else. “Don’t you?
Tricia shook her head, turned and stomped off. “What’s her problem?” asked Jennie. “What’d I do to her?”
“Probably just having a bad morning,” said Reid smoothing things over. “Let’s get ready for the hike.”
On the way out, Reid and Johnny overheard Michael trying to convince the Director that he should stay in camp. As they left, they heard Snyder say, “You’re part of this group, and the group stays together. A short walk’s not going to hurt you. Now be in front in 9.0 minutes, or I’ll come to get you.” A screen door slammed in the background.
“Guess that’s our cue to hurry too. See you in 8.5 minutes,” laughed Reid as she hurried down the path to the small log cabins.
“I hate to say it, but this is one time he’s right. What could happen on a short hike?” Johnny whistled as he moved toward his cabin.
Reid followed quickly behind him. “Uh, remember the story of Sammy, the lost camper?”
Johnny’s smile faded as he added, “Uh, oh yeah…that.”
Chapter Four
Thirty minutes later, the group of campers meandered slowly down the main path of the camp behind the compact body of Assistant Director Agnes Rutherford. She pushed her frosted hair off her forehead and turned to scowl at the stragglers behind her. “Step it up. We can’t spend all morning waiting for you to catch up,” she warned. Moving to stand in the shadows by the edge of the well-worn path, she executed several deep knee bends as she issued her orders. “While you’re walking, see if you can spot different types of plants you might not see in the city,” directed Rutherford.
“She looks like she works out every day. She’s not even perspiring,” observed Reid. “I’ve always wondered how old she is.”
“Nobody knows exactly,” said Johnny. “One of the guys told me she’s been here forever.”
“Not as long as Snyder, but close. She’s an ex-phys ed. teacher, not a fashion model. Her entire wardrobe consists of seven different camp shirts—each a different color. Last year I made some money guessing the correct color of the day,” bragged Reid.
“Nobody’d be that predictable,” said Johnny. “But I’m always ready to take a bet.”
“You should pay close attention to what Rutherford says. She issues orders and expects them to be followed exactly,” cautioned Reid. “She’s Ms. Organization. Probably read Camping for Dummies when she was a baby, and she’s never looked back.”
“Her way or the highway type?”
“She’d leave her own mother behind if she couldn’t keep up with everyone. All she cares about is following the rules and how many forms she’ll have to fill out if something unusual happens.”
“You’re exaggerating,” said Johnny. “She can’t be that uptight.”
“Just wait. In fact, I’ll bet you a cold soda that it happens soon. Remember I warned you,” promised Reid. They shook hands solemnly.
Several hours later, the group of hungry, thirsty campers walked around a curve in the trail and stopped in amazement. Looming in front of them was a sight they’d never forget. A column of dark gray rocks towered against the mackerel sky. Water, glistening like sparkling gemstones in the sunshine, spilled over the jutting cliff at the top. It pushed its way over rocky obstacles, creating a foaming whirlpool at the base.
A murmur of astonishment was interrupted by Rutherford’s announcement, “We’ll stay here long enough to eat lunch and swim for a while. There’s just enough room behind the waterfall for you to walk behind it and then splash in and out of the water. However, the one rule is you cannot climb to the top of the waterfall. It’s very slippery and will be even more so since it’s rained for the last few days. We’ve checked it out, and it’s perfectly safe as long as you stay near the lower rocks.”
Johnny mouthed the last words with her as she issued directions. Reid hit him on the arm, making him stop.
“Meet back here when I whistle,” ordered Rutherford. She moved off the path and settled under a tree. Opening a book, she ignored the campers.
Minutes later, Reid, Johnny, and Tricia splashed each other in earnest, cavorting in the hot afternoon sun. The water, although cold at first, was a welcome diversion from the humid hike of the morning. Reid, bent over the edge of the water, poked a stick at the body of a dead frog. She knelt down to examine it closer, a frown forming on her face. A flash of orange reflected back, this time worn by a young boy whose face was unclear. Startled, she turned to say something to Johnny when a long scream, full of terror, pierced the serenity of the afternoon.
“What was that? It sounded inhuman!” said Reid, her voice trembling.
“That was no animal. Sounded like someone who’s run into trouble,” added a breathless Johnny. “Let’s get everyone together and see who’s missing before we run off in all directions.”
Reid couldn’t help but admire Johnny’s take charge attitude. “Good idea. We’re on our way.”
They gathered at the side of the waterfall, standing in the tall grass, waiting anxiously for the rest of the hikers to assemble, their anxiety building. As they were counting off, Jennie ran frantically toward the group. Blades of grass stuck out from her hair, and blood covered her arms and legs. Spotting the campers, she ran toward them yelling, “He fell! He fell! I couldn’t stop him.”
“Who fell?”
“Where?”
“What’s she talking about?
“Who’s he?”
The questions flew faster than she could answer as the campers ran toward her.