45 - Ghost Camp (2 page)

“Yeah. He fooled us,” I confessed. “I really thought there was no one here.”

Uncle Marv’s tiny blue eyes sparkled. “It’s one of our oldest traditions,” he said, grinning. What a grin! It looked to me as
if he had at least
six rows
of teeth!

“Before I take you to your cabin, I want to teach you the Camp Spirit Moon
greeting,” Uncle Marv said. “Chris and I will show it to you.”

They stood facing each other.

“Yohhhhhhhh, Spirits!” Uncle Marv bellowed.

“Yohhhhhhhh, Spirits!” Chris boomed back.

Then they gave each other a left-handed salute, placing the hand on the nose,
then swinging it straight out in the air.

“That’s how Camp Spirit Moon campers greet each other,” Uncle Marv told us.
He pushed Alex and me together. “You two try it.”

I don’t know about you, but this kind of thing embarrasses me. I don’t like
funny greetings and salutes. It makes me feel like a jerk.

But I had just arrived at camp. And I didn’t want Uncle Marv to think I was a
bad sport. So I stood in front of my brother. “Yohhhhhhhh, Spirits!” I shouted.
And I gave Alex a sharp nose salute.

“Yohhhhhhhh, Spirits!” Alex showed a lot more enthusiasm than I did. He likes
this kind of thing. He flashed me a sharp salute.

Uncle Marv tossed back his head in a loud, bellowing laugh. “Very good, guys!
I think you’re both going to be great Camp Spirit Moon campers.”

He winked at Chris. “Of course, the campfire tonight is the
real
test.”

Chris nodded, grinning.

“The campfire tonight?” I asked. “A test?”

Uncle Marv patted my shoulder. “Don’t worry about it, Harry.”

Something about the way he said that made me worry a
lot.

“All new campers come to a Welcoming Camp-fire,” Chris explained. “It’s a
chance to learn our Camp Spirit Moon traditions.”

“Don’t tell them any more about it,” Uncle Marv told Chris sharply. “We want
them to be surprised—don’t we?”

“Surprised—?” I choked out.

Why did I suddenly have such a bad feeling? Why did my throat tighten up
again? Why did I have a fluttering feeling in my chest?

“Do we sing camp songs at the Welcoming Campfire?” Alex asked. “I’m really
into singing. I take voice lessons back home and—”

“Don’t worry. You’ll sing. Plenty,” Uncle Marv interrupted in a low, almost
menacing voice.

I caught the cold look in his tiny eyes—cold as blue ice. And I felt a
shiver roll down my back.

He’s trying to scare us, I thought. It’s all a joke. He’s having fun with us.
He always tries to scare new campers. It’s a Camp Spirit Moon tradition.

“I think you boys will enjoy the campfire tonight,” Uncle Marv boomed. “If
you survive it!”

He and Chris shared a laugh.

“Catch you later,” Chris said. He gave Alex and me a nose salute and vanished
into the woods.

“This will be your bunk,” Uncle Marv announced. He pulled open the screen
door of a tiny white cabin. “Whoa!” He nearly pulled the door off its hinges.

Alex and I dragged our duffels and sleeping bags into the cabin. I saw bunk
beds against three of the walls. Narrow wooden chests of drawers. Cubbyholes for
storing things.

The walls were white. A light dangling from the ceiling cast a bright glow.
The afternoon sun sent orange rays through a small window above one of the bunk
beds.

Not bad, I thought.

“That bunk is free,” Uncle Marv told us, pointing to the bed against the
window. “You can decide who gets the top and who gets the bottom.”

“I need the bottom,” Alex said quickly. “I toss and turn a lot at night.”

“And he sings in his sleep,” I told Uncle Marv. “Do you believe it? Alex is
so into singing, he doesn’t even stop when he’s sleeping!”

“You will have to try out for the talent show,” Uncle Marv told Alex. And
then he repeated in a low voice, “If you survive tonight.” He laughed.

Why did he keep saying that?

He’s kidding, I reminded myself. Uncle Marv is just
kidding.

“The boys’ cabins are on the left,” Uncle Marv told us. “And the girls’
cabins are on the right. We all use the lodge and mess hall. It’s that big stone
building near the woods.”

“Should we unpack now?” Alex asked.

Uncle Marv pushed back his greasy black hair. “Yes. Use any cubbies that are
empty. You’d better hurry, guys. The rest of the campers will be back from the
woods soon with firewood. It will be time for our campfire.”

He gave us a “Yohhhhhhhh, Spirits!” and a sharp nose salute.

Then he turned and lumbered away. The screen door slammed hard behind him.

“Fun guy,” I muttered.

“He’s kind of scary,” Alex admitted.

“He’s just joking,” I said. “All summer camps try to terrify the new campers.
I think.” I dragged my duffel bag over to the bed.

“But it’s all in fun. There’s nothing to be scared about, Alex,” I told my
brother. “Nothing at all.”

I tossed my sleeping bag into the corner. Then I started toward the low
dresser to see if I could find an empty drawer.

“Whoa—!” I cried out as my sneaker stuck on something.

I peered down.

A blue puddle.

My sneaker had landed in a sticky blue puddle.

“Hey—” I tugged my sneaker out. The blue liquid was thick. It stuck to the bottom and sides of my shoe.

I glanced around the room.

And saw more blue puddles. A sticky blue puddle in front of every bed.

“What’s going
on
here? What
is
this stuff?” I cried.

Alex had his bag open and was pulling stuff out and spreading it on the
bottom bed. “What’s your problem, Harry?” he called without turning around.

“It’s some kind of blue slime,” I replied. “Check it out. There are puddles
all over the floor.”

“Big deal,” Alex muttered. He turned and glanced at the blue liquid stuck to
my sneaker. “It’s probably a camp tradition,” he joked.

I didn’t think it was funny. “Yuck!” I exclaimed. I reached down and poked my
finger into the tiny, round puddle.

So cold!

The blue slime felt freezing cold.

Startled, I pulled my hand away. The cold swept up my arm. I shook my hand
hard. Then I rubbed it, trying to warm it.

“Weird,” I muttered.

Of course, everything got a lot weirder. In a hurry.

“Campfire time!”

Uncle Marv’s cry through the screen door shook our cabin.

Alex and I spun to face the door. It had taken us forever to unpack our
stuff. To my surprise, the sun had lowered. The sky outside the door was evening
gray.

“Everyone is waiting,” Uncle Marv announced. A gleeful smile spread over his
face. His tiny eyes practically disappeared in the smile. “We all
love
the Welcoming Campfire.”

Alex and I followed him outside. I took a deep breath. The air smelled fresh
and piney.

“Wow!” Alex cried out.

The campfire was already blazing. Orange and yellow flames leaped up to the
gray sky.

We followed Uncle Marv to the round clearing where the fire had been built.
And saw the other campers and counselors for the first time.

They sat around the fire, all facing us. Watching us.

“They’re all dressed alike!” I exclaimed.

“The camp uniform,” Uncle Marv said. “I’ll get you and Alex your camp
uniforms tonight after the campfire.”

As Alex and I neared the circle, the campers and counselors rose to their
feet. A deafening “YOHHHHHHHHHH, SPIRITS!” shook the trees. Then a hundred
left-handed nose salutes greeted us.

Alex and I returned the greeting.

Chris, the red-haired counselor, appeared beside us. “Welcome, guys,” he
said. “We’re going to roast hot dogs on the fire before the campfire activities
begin. So grab a stick and a hot dog, and join in.”

The other kids were lining up in front of a long food table. I saw a huge
platter of raw hot dogs in the center of the table.

As I hurried to get in line, several kids said hi to me.

“You’re in my cabin,” a tall boy with curly blond hair said. “It’s the best
cabin!”

“Cabin number seven rules!” a girl shouted.

“This is an awesome camp,” the kid in front of me turned to say. “You’re
going to have a great time, Harry.”

They seemed to be really nice kids. Up ahead, a boy and a girl were having a
playful shoving match, trying to knock each other out of line. Other kids began
cheering them on.

The fire crackled behind me. The orange light from its flames danced over
everyone’s white shorts and shirts.

I felt a little weird, not being dressed in white.

I was wearing an olive-green T-shirt and faded denim cutoffs. I wondered if
Alex felt weird, too.

I turned and searched for him in the line. He was behind me, talking
excitedly to a short blond boy. I felt glad that Alex had found a friend so
fast.

Two counselors handed out the hot dogs. I suddenly realized I was
starving.
Mom had packed sandwiches for Alex and me to eat on the bus. But
we were too excited and nervous to eat them.

I took the hot dog and turned to the crackling fire. Several kids were
already huddled around the fire, poking their hot dogs on long sticks into the
flames.

Where do I get a stick? I asked myself, glancing around.

“The sticks are over there,” a girl’s voice called from behind me—as if she
had read my mind.

I turned and saw a girl about my age, dressed in white, of course. She was
very pretty, with dark eyes and shiny black hair, pulled back in a ponytail that
fell down her back. Her skin was so pale, her dark eyes appeared to glow.

She smiled at me. “New kids never know where to find the sticks,” she said.
She led the way to a pile of sticks leaning against a tall pine tree. She picked
up two of them and handed one to me.

“Your name is Harry, right?” she asked. She had a deep, husky voice for a
girl. Like she was whispering all the time.

“Yeah. Harry Altman,” I told her.

I suddenly felt very shy. I don’t know why. I turned away from her and shoved
the hot dog onto the end of the stick.

“My name is Lucy,” she said, making her way to the circle of kids around the
fire.

I followed her. The kids’ faces were all flickering orange and yellow in the
firelight. The aroma of roasting hot dogs made me feel even hungrier.

Four girls were huddled together, laughing about something. I saw a boy
eating his roasted hot dog right off the stick.

“Gross,” Lucy said, making a disgusted face. “Let’s go over here.”

She led me to the other side of the campfire. Something popped in the fire.
It sounded like a firecracker exploding. We both jumped. Lucy laughed.

We sat down on the grass, raised the long sticks, and poked our hot dogs into
the flames. The fire was roaring now. I could feel its heat on my face.

“I like mine really black,” Lucy said. She turned her stick and pushed it
deeper into the flames. “I just love that burnt taste. How about you?”

I opened my mouth to answer her—but my hot dog fell off the stick. “Oh no!” I cried. I watched it fall into the
sizzling, red-hot blanket of flames.

I turned to Lucy. And to my surprise—to my
horror—
she leaned
forward.

Stuck her hand deep into the fire.

Grabbed my hot dog from the burning embers and lifted it out.

I jumped to my feet. “Your hand!” I shrieked.

Yellow flames leaped over her hand and up her arm.

She handed me the hot dog. “Here,” she said calmly.

“But your hand!” I cried again, gaping in horror.

The flames slowly burned low on her skin. She glanced down at her hand.
Confused. As if she didn’t know why I was in such a panic.

“Oh! Hey—!” she finally cried. Her dark eyes grew wide. “Ow! That was hot!”
she exclaimed.

She shook her hand hard. Shook it until the flames went out.

Then she laughed. “At least I rescued your poor hot dog. Hope you like yours
burned!”

“But—but—but—” I sputtered. I stared at her hand and arm. The flames had
spread all over her skin. But I couldn’t see any burns. Not a mark.

“The buns are over there,” she said. “You want some potato chips?”

I kept staring at her hand. “Should we find the nurse?” I asked.

She rubbed her arm and wrist. “No. I’m fine. Really.” She wiggled her
fingers. “See?”

“But the fire—”

“Come on, Harry.” She pulled me back to the food table. “It’s almost time for
the campfire activities to start.”

I ran into Alex at the food table. He was still hanging out with the short
blond boy.

“I made a friend already,” Alex told me. He had a mouthful of potato chips.
“His name is Elvis. Do you believe it? Elvis McGraw. He’s in our cabin.”

“Cool,” I muttered. I was still thinking about the flames rolling up and down
Lucy’s arm.

“This is a great camp,” Alex declared. “Elvis and I are going to try out for
the talent show
and
the musical.”

“Cool,” I repeated.

I grabbed a hot dog bun and tossed some potato chips on my plate. Then I
searched for Lucy. I saw her talking to a group of girls by the fire.

“Yohhhhhhhh, Spirits!” a deep voice bellowed. No way anyone could mistake
that cry. It had to be Uncle Marv.

“Places around the council fire, everyone!” he ordered. “Hurry—places,
everyone!”

Holding plates and cans of soda, everyone scurried to form a circle around
the fire. The girls all sat together and the boys all sat together. I guessed
each cabin had its own place.

Uncle Marv led Alex and me to a spot in the middle.

“Yohhhhhhhh, Spirits!” he cried again, so loud the fire trembled!

Everyone repeated the cry and gave the salute.

“We’ll begin by singing our camp song,” Uncle Marv announced.