33 - The Horror at Camp Jellyjam (6 page)

“I’m sure she’s partying somewhere and forgot all about us,” I said, yawning.
I bent to pull down the covers on my bed.

“What do you think that little girl saw?” Ivy asked, peering out the window.

“Alicia? I think she had a bad dream,” I replied.

“But she was so frightened!” Jan said, shaking her head. “And what was she
doing outside?”

“And why did she run away from us like that?” Ivy added.

“Weird,” I mumbled.

“Weird is right,” Jan agreed. Weird is the word of the night. She made her
way to the dresser. “I’m getting changed for bed. Big day tomorrow. I’ve got to
win two more King Coins.”

“Me, too,” Ivy said, yawning.

Jan pulled out a dresser drawer. “Oh, no!” she shrieked. “No! I don’t
believe
it!”

“Jan—what is it?” I cried.

Ivy and I tore across the room to the dresser.

Jan continued to stare down into the open drawer. “It’s so dark,” she said.
“I opened Dierdre’s drawer by mistake. And—and—it’s
empty
!”

“Huh?” Ivy and I both uttered our surprise.

Squinting through the dim gray light, I studied the dresser drawer. Totally
empty. “Check the closet,” I suggested.

Ivy crossed the room in three or four quick strides. She pulled open the
closet door.

“Dierdre’s stuff—it’s all gone!” Ivy declared.

“Weird,” I muttered. It was still the word of the night.

“Why would she move out and not tell us?” Jan demanded.

“Where did she go?” Ivy added.

Good question, I thought, staring at the empty closet.

Where did Dierdre go?

* * *

Breakfast was the noisiest meal of the day. Spoons clattered against cereal
bowls. Orange juice pitchers banged on the long wooden tables.

Voices rang out as if someone had turned up the volume all the way. Everyone
talked excitedly about the sports they planned to play today, the games they
planned to win.

I had taken the last shower. So Jan and Ivy were already eating breakfast
when I made my way into the mess hall.

As I pushed through the narrow aisle between the tables, I searched for
Dierdre. No sign of her.

I hadn’t slept very well, even though I was really tired. I kept thinking
about Dierdre—and about Alicia. And I kept wondering what was taking Mom and
Dad so long to get in touch with us.

I spotted Elliot at the end of a table filled with boys about his age. He had
a stack of waffles in front of him, and he was pouring dark syrup over them.

“Elliot—what’s up?” I called, squeezing through the aisle to get over to
him.

My brother didn’t bother saying good morning. “I’ve got a one-on-one
tournament this morning,” he reported excitedly. “I could win my third King
Coin!”

“Thrills and chills,” I replied, rolling my eyes. “You haven’t heard anything
about Mom and Dad, have you?”

He stared at me as if he didn’t remember who they were. Then he shook his
head. “Not yet. Isn’t this a great camp? Did we luck out, or what?”

I didn’t reply. My eyes were on the next table. I thought I had spotted
Dierdre. But it was just another girl with streaky blond hair.

“Have you won any coins yet?” Elliot asked. He had a mouth full of waffle.
Syrup dripped down his chin.

“Not yet,” I replied.

He snickered. “They should change the camp slogan for you, Wendy. Only The
Worst!”

Elliot laughed. The other boys at the table laughed, too.

As I said, Elliot really cracks himself up.

I wasn’t in the mood for his lame jokes. My mind was still on Dierdre. “Catch
you later,” I said.

I squeezed past the table and headed toward the girls’ side of the room.
Cheers and laughter rang out at a table near the wall. A scrambled-egg tossing
battle had broken out. Three counselors rushed to stop it.

Jan and Ivy’s table was full. I found an empty space at the next table. I
poured myself a glass of juice and a bowl of cornflakes. But I didn’t feel too
hungry.

“Hey—!” I called out when I saw Buddy walk by. He didn’t hear me over the
noise, so I jumped up and ran after him.

“Hi. What’s up?” He greeted me with a smile.

His blond hair was still wet from the shower. He smelled kind of flowery.
Aftershave, I guessed.

“Do you know where Dierdre went?” I demanded.

He narrowed his eyes in surprise. “Dierdre?”

“A girl in my dorm room,” I explained. “She didn’t come back to the room last
night. Her closet is empty.”

“Dierdre,” he repeated, thinking hard. He raised his clipboard to his face
and ran his finger down it slowly. “Oh, yeah. She’s gone.” His cheeks turned
bright pink.

“Excuse me?” I stared up at him. “Dierdre is gone? Where did she go? Home?”

He studied the sheet on his clipboard. “I guess. It just says she’s gone.”
His cheeks darkened from pink to red.

“That’s so weird,” I told him. “She didn’t say good-bye or anything.”

Buddy shrugged. A smile spread over his face. “Have a nice day!”

He started toward the counselors’ table at the front of the huge room. But I
ran after him. I grabbed his arm.

“Buddy, one more question,” I said. “Do you know where I can find a little
girl named Alicia?”

Buddy waved to some boys across the room. “Go get ’em, guys! Only The Best!”
he shouted to them. Then he turned back to me. “Alicia?”

“I don’t know her last name. She’s probably six or seven,” I told him. “She has beautiful, long red hair and a face full of
freckles.”

“Alicia…” He chewed his bottom lip. Then he raised the clipboard again.

I watched as he ran his finger down the list of names. When his finger
stopped, his cheeks turned pink again.

“Oh, yeah. Alicia,” he said, lowering the clipboard. He grinned at me. A
strange grin. A chilling grin. “She’s gone, too.”

“Jan! Ivy!” I saw them hurrying from the mess hall, and I chased after them.
“We’ve got to talk!” I cried breathlessly.

“We can’t. We’re late.” Jan straightened her bangs with one hand. “If we
don’t get to the volleyball nets in time, we can’t be in the tournament.”

“But it’s
important
!” I called as they jogged to the doors.

They didn’t seem to hear me. I watched them disappear into the morning
sunlight.

My heart pounded in my chest. I suddenly felt cold all over.

I caught up with my brother, who was playfully boxing a tall, skinny boy with
short blond hair. “Elliot—come here,” I instructed. “Just for a minute.”

“I can’t,” he called. “Remember? My one-on-one contest?”

The tall, skinny boy hurried out the door. I stepped in front of Elliot,
blocking his path.

“Give me a break!” he cried. “I don’t want to be late. I’m going against
Jeff. Remember him? I can beat him. He’s big, but he’s real slow.”

“Elliot, something strange is going on here,” I said, backing him against the
wall. Kids were staring at us as they made their way outside. But I didn’t care.

“
You’re
the only one who’s strange!” Elliot shot back. “Are you going to
let me go to the basketball court or not?”

He started to push past me. I pinned his shoulders to the wall with both
hands.

“Just give me one second!” I insisted. “There’s something wrong with this
camp, Elliot.” I let go of him.

“You mean the rumbling noises?” he asked, brushing back his dark hair with
one hand. “That’s just gas under the ground or something. A counselor explained
it to me.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about,” I replied. “Kids are disappearing.”

He laughed. “Invisible kids? You mean like a magic trick?”

“Stop making fun of me!” I snapped. “It isn’t funny, Elliot. Kids are
disappearing. Dierdre from my dorm room? She was in the Winners Walk last night.
Then she didn’t come back to the room.”

Elliot’s grin faded.

“This morning, Buddy told me she was gone,” I continued. I snapped my
fingers. “Just like that. And a little girl named Alicia—she disappeared,
too.”

Elliot’s brown eyes studied me. “Kids have to go home
sometime
,” he
insisted. “What’s the big deal?”

“And what about Mom and Dad?” I demanded. “They couldn’t have driven very far
before they realized the trailer had come loose. Why haven’t they found us? Why
hasn’t the camp found them?”

Elliot shrugged. “Beats me,” he replied casually. He dodged past me and
started to the door. “Wendy, you’re just unhappy because you stink at sports.
But I’m having a great time here. Don’t mess it up for me—okay?”

“But—but—Elliot—!” I sputtered.

Shaking his head, he pushed the door open with both hands and escaped into
the sunlight.

I balled both hands into tight fists. I really wanted to pound him. Why
wouldn’t he listen to me? Couldn’t he see how upset and frightened I was?

Elliot is the kind of kid who never worries about anything. Everything always
seems to go his way. So why should he sweat it?

But you’d think he’d be just a
little
worried about Mom and Dad.

Mom and Dad…

I had a heavy feeling in my stomach as I made my way slowly out the door. Had they been in a car accident or something? Is
that why they hadn’t found Elliot and me yet?

No. Stop making things worse, I scolded myself. Don’t let your imagination
run away with you, Wendy.

I suddenly remembered my plan to call home. Yes, I decided, I will do that
right now. I will call home and leave a message for Mom and Dad on the answering
machine.

I stopped in the middle of the path and searched for a pay phone. A group of
girls carrying hockey sticks passed by. I heard a long whistle coming from the
pool across from the tennis courts. Then I heard the splash of kids diving into
the water.

Everyone is having fun, I thought—except me.

I decided to make the call, then find a sport to play. Something to take my
mind off all my crazy worries.

I returned to the row of blue and white pay phones at the side of the lodge.
I ran full speed and picked up the nearest phone.

I raised the receiver to my ear and started to punch in our number.

Then I cried out in surprise.

“Hi there, Camper!”
boomed a cheerful, deep voice.
“Have a wonderful
day at camp. This is King Jellyjam greeting you. Work hard. Play hard. And win.
And always remember—Only The Best!”

“Oh, no!” I cried. “A stupid message—!”

“Hi there, Camper! Have a wonderful day—”
The tape started to repeat in
my ear.

I slammed the receiver down and picked up the next phone.

“Hi there, Camper! Have a wonderful day at camp.”
The same jolly, booming
voice. The same recorded message.

I tried every phone in the row. They all played the same message. None of the
phones were real.

Where are the real phones? I wondered. There
have
to be phones that
actually work.

I turned away from the lodge and wandered down the dirt path. As I passed the
bushes where Jan, Ivy, and I had hid last night, I felt a chill. And thought about Alicia.

Bright sunlight washed over the sloping, grassy hill. I shielded my eyes and
watched a black-and-gold monarch butterfly. It fluttered toward a patch of red
and pink geraniums.

I walked aimlessly, searching for a telephone. All around, kids were
shouting, laughing, playing hard. I didn’t really hear them. I was deep into my
own troubled thoughts.

“Hey! Hey! Hey!”

My brother’s voice startled me into stopping. I blinked several times,
struggling to focus.

I saw that I had wandered down to the basketball court. Elliot and Jeff were
having their one-on-one basketball competition.

Jeff dribbled the ball. It thudded loudly on the asphalt court. My brother
waved both arms in Jeff’s face. Made a grab for the ball.

Missed.

Jeff lowered his shoulder. Bumped Elliot out of the way. Dribbled to the
basket—and shot.

“Two points!” he cried, grinning.

Elliot scowled and shook his head. “You fouled me.”

Jeff pretended not to hear. He was twice as big as Elliot. A big hulk. He
could push Elliot all over the court, if he wanted to.

Whatever made Elliot think he could win?

“What’s the score?” Jeff demanded, wiping sweat off his forehead with the back of one hand.

“Eighteen to ten,” Elliot reported unhappily. I didn’t need twenty guesses to
figure out that my brother was losing.

The basketball court was closed off by a mesh-wire fence. I grabbed the fence
with both hands, pressed my face up against it, and watched.

Elliot dribbled, moving back, back, giving himself some space. Jeff moved
with him, leaning forward, adjusting his basketball shorts with one hand as he
moved.

Suddenly, Elliot burst forward, his eyes on the basket. He started his jump,
raised his right hand to shoot—and Jeff grabbed the ball away.

Elliot jumped and shot nothing but air.

Jeff dribbled twice. Put up a two-handed layup.

Swish.
The score was twenty to ten.

Jeff won the game a few seconds later. He let out a cheer and slapped Elliot
a high five.

Elliot frowned and shook his head. “Lucky shots,” he muttered.

“Yeah. For sure,” Jeff replied, using the front of his sleeveless blue
T-shirt to mop his sweating face. “Hey, congratulate me, man. You’re my sixth
victim!”

“Huh?” Elliot stared at him, hands pressed against his knees, struggling to
catch his breath. “You mean—?”

“Yeah.” Jeff grinned. “My sixth King Coin. I get to march in the Winners Walk
tonight!”

“Wow. That’s cool,” Elliot replied without enthusiasm. “I still have three
coins to go.”

I had the sudden feeling that I was being watched. I let go of the wire fence
and took a step back.