45 - Ghost Camp (4 page)

When they were tired of singing, the counselors took turns telling ghost
stories. And telling the legends of the camp, legends that had been passed on
from camper to camper for nearly a hundred years.

The evening grew late. The campfire had died low. The moon floated high in the sky, a pale full moon.

The camp director stepped forward to end the council meeting.

Suddenly, darkness swept over the circle of campers.

They all looked up—and saw that the moon had been covered by a heavy
blanket of black clouds.

And swirls of fog came drifting over the camp. A cold, wet fog. Cloudy gray
at first. Then darkening.

And thickening.

Until the fog swept over the camp, billowing like black smoke.

Tumbling and swirling, the cold wet fog rolled over the dying campfire.
Rolled over the campers and counselors. Over the cabins and the lake and the
trees.

A choking fog, so thick and dark the campers couldn’t see each other.
Couldn’t see the fire. Or the ground. Or the moon in the sky.

The fog lingered for a short while, swirling and tossing, low over the
ground. Wet, so wet and silent.

It moved on just as silently.

Like smoke blown away.

The moonlight shone through. The grass sparkled as if a heavy dew had
settled.

The fire was out. Dark purple embers sizzled over the ground.

The fog swirled away. Swept over the trees. And vanished.

And the campers sat around the dead campfire. Their eyes blank. Their arms
limp at their sides.

Not moving. Not moving. Not moving.

Because they were no longer alive.

The fog had left a ghost camp in its wake.

The campers, the counselors, the camp director—they were all ghosts now.

All spirits. All ghosts. Every last one of them.

They climbed to their feet. And returned to their bunks.

They knew the ghost camp was their home now—
forever!

With a smile, Uncle Marv stepped back from the fire.

I glanced around the circle. The faces were so solemn. No one smiled or
laughed.

It’s a pretty good story, I thought. Kind of scary.

But it doesn’t have much of an ending.

I turned to see what Alex thought.

And gasped when I saw the terrified expression on his face. “Alex—what?” I
cried, my voice cutting through the silence of the circle. “What’s wrong?”

He didn’t reply. His eyes were raised to the sky. He pointed up.

I gazed up too—and let out a cry of horror.

As a black, swirling fog came sweeping over the camp.

My mouth dropped open as I watched the fog roll closer. It darkened the
ground as it moved steadily toward us.

Darkened the trees. Darkened the sky.

This is
crazy,
I told myself.

This is
impossible
!

I scooted next to Alex. “It’s just a coincidence,” I told him.

He didn’t seem to hear me. He jumped to his feet. His whole body trembled.

I stood up beside him. “It’s only fog,” I said, trying to sound calm. “It
gets foggy out here in the woods all the time.”

“Really?” Alex asked in a tiny voice.

The black smoky fog swirled over us.

“Of course,” I replied. “Hey—we don’t believe in ghosts, remember? We don’t
think ghost stories are scary.”

“But—but—” Alex stuttered. “Why is everyone staring at us?” he finally
choked out.

I turned and squinted through the thick fog.

Alex was right. All around the circle, the other campers had their eyes on
Alex and me. Their faces appeared to dim behind the curtain of dark mist.

“I—I don’t know why they’re watching us,” I whispered to my brother.

Fog billowed around us. I shivered. It felt cold against my skin.

“Harry—I don’t like this,” Alex whispered.

The fog was so thick now, I could barely see him, even though he stood close
beside me.

“I know we don’t believe in ghosts,” Alex said. “But I don’t like this. It—it’s too creepy.”

From the other side of the circle, Uncle Marv’s voice broke the silence.
“It’s a beautiful fog tonight,” he said. “Let’s all stand up and sing the Camp
Spirit Moon song.”

Alex and I were already standing. The other campers and counselors obediently
climbed to their feet.

Their pale faces shimmered in and out of the fog.

I rubbed my arms. Cold and wet. I dried my face with the front of my T-shirt.

The fog grew even heavier and darker as Uncle Marv began to sing. Everyone
joined in. Beside me, Alex began to sing, quieter this time.

Our voices were muffled by the heavy mist. Even Uncle Marv’s booming voice
sounded smaller and far away.

I tried to sing too. But I didn’t know the words. And my own voice came out
choked and small.

As I stared into the swirling fog, the voices faded. Everyone sang, but the
sound sank into the fog.

The voices vanished. All of them. All except for Alex’s.

He seemed to be the only one still singing, his voice pure and soft beside me
in the dark mist.

And then Alex stopped singing, too.

The fog swept on. The darkness lifted.

Silvery moonlight washed down on us once again.

Alex and I gazed around in surprise.

No one else remained.

Alex and I were all alone. All alone in front of the dying fire.

I blinked. And blinked again.

I don’t know what I expected. Did I think they would all appear again?

Alex and I gazed across the circle in stunned silence.

They had vanished with the fog. The campers. The counselors. Uncle Marv.

A chill ran down my back. My skin still felt damp and cold from the heavy
mist.

“Wh-where—?” Alex choked out.

I swallowed hard.

A burned log crumbled into the purple embers. The soft thud startled me.

I jumped.

And then I started to laugh.

Alex squinted at me, studying me. “Harry—?”

“Don’t you see?” I told him. “It’s a joke.”

He squinted at me harder. “Huh?”

“It’s a camp joke,” I explained. “It’s a joke they probably always play on
new campers here.”

Alex twisted up his whole face. He was thinking about it. But I don’t think
he believed me.

“They all ran off into the woods,” I told him. “They hid behind the fog and
ran away. They were all in on the joke. I’ll bet they do it to every new kid.”

“But—the fog—” Alex choked out.

“I’ll bet the fog was a fake!” I exclaimed. “They probably have some kind of
smoke machine. To help them with the joke.”

Alex rubbed his chin. I could still see the fear in his eyes.

“They probably do this all the time,” I assured him. “Uncle Marv tells the
story. Then somebody turns on the smoke machine. The black smoke rolls over the
campfire circle. And everyone runs and hides.”

Alex turned and stared into the woods. “I don’t see anyone hiding back
there,” he said softly. “I don’t see anyone watching us.”

“I’ll bet they’re all back at the cabins,” I told him. “I’ll bet they’re
waiting for us. Waiting to see the looks on our faces.”

“Waiting to laugh at us for falling for their dumb joke,” Alex added.

“Let’s go!” I cried. I slapped him on the shoulder. Then I started running
across the wet grass toward the row of cabins.

Alex ran close behind. The moon sent a silvery path across the grass in front
of us.

Sure enough—as we came near the cabins, the campers all came running out.
They were laughing and hooting. Slapping each other high fives.

Enjoying their joke. A joke they play on new campers when the fog rolls in,
they told us.

I saw Lucy laughing along with a bunch of girls.

Elvis grabbed Alex and wrestled him playfully to the ground.

Everyone teased us and told us how scared we looked.

“We weren’t scared even for a second,” I lied. “Alex and I figured it out
before the fog cleared.”

That made everyone start laughing and cheering all over again.

“Owoooooooh!”

Some of the kids cupped their hands around their mouths and made ghost howls.

“Owoooooooh!”

That led to more laughing and joking.

I didn’t mind the teasing. Not a bit.

I felt so relieved. My heart was still pounding like crazy. And my knees felt
kind of weak.

But I felt so happy that it was all a joke.

Every summer camp has its jokes, I told myself. And this is a pretty good
one.

But it didn’t fool me. Not for long, anyway.

“Lights Out in five minutes,” Uncle Marv’s booming command stopped the fun.
“Lights Out, campers!”

The kids all turned and scurried to their bunks.

I stared down the row of cabins, suddenly confused. Which one was ours?

“This way, Harry,” Alex said. He tugged me toward the third cabin down the
path. Alex has a better memory than I do for things like that.

Elvis and two other guys were already in the cabin when Alex and I came in.
They were getting changed for bed. The other guys introduced themselves. Sam and
Joey.

I made my way to the bunk bed and started to undress.

“Owoooooooh!”
A ghostly howl made me jump.

I spun around and saw Joey grinning at me.

Everyone laughed. Me, too.

I like camp jokes, I thought. They’re mean. But they’re kind of fun.

I felt something soft and gooey under my bare foot. Yuck! I glanced down.

And saw that I had stepped in a fresh puddle of blue slime.

The cabin lights went out. But before they did, I saw blue puddles—fresh
blue puddles—all over the floor.

The cold blue stuff stuck to the bottom of my foot. I stumbled through the
dark cabin and found a towel to wipe it off.

What
are
these blue puddles? I asked myself as I climbed up to my top
bunk.

I glimpsed Joey and Sam in the bunk against the wall.

I gasped.

They stared back at me, their eyes shining like flashlights!

What is going on here? I wondered.

What are the sticky blue puddles all over the floor?

And why do Sam and Joey’s eyes glow like that in the dark?

I turned my face to the wall. I tried not to think about anything.

I had almost drifted to sleep—when I felt a cold, slimy hand sliding down
my arm.

“Huh?”

I shot straight up. Still feeling the cold, wet touch on my skin.

I stared at my brother. “Alex—you scared me to death!” I whispered. “What
do you want?”

He stood on his mattress, his dark eyes staring at me. “I can’t sleep,” he
moaned.

“Keep trying,” I told him sharply. “Why are your hands so cold?”

“I don’t know,” he replied. “It’s cold in here, I guess.”

“You’ll get used to it,” I said. “You always have trouble sleeping in new
places.”

I yawned. I waited for him to drop back onto the bottom bunk. But he didn’t
move.

“Harry, you don’t believe in ghosts—do you?” he whispered.

“Of course not,” I told him. “Don’t let a couple of silly stories creep you
out.”

“Yeah. Right,” he agreed. “Good night.”

I said good night. He disappeared back to his bed. I heard him tossing around
down there. He had a very squeaky mattress.

Poor guy, I thought. That dumb Ghost Camp joke with the fog really messed him
up.

He’ll be fine in the morning, I decided.

I turned and gazed across the dark cabin toward Joey and Sam’s bunk. Were
their eyes still glowing so strangely?

No.

Darkness there.

I started to turn away—then stopped.

And stared hard.

“Oh no!” I murmured out loud.

In the dim light, I could see Joey. Stretched out. Asleep.

Floating two feet above his mattress!

I scrambled to climb out of bed. My legs tangled in the blanket, and I nearly
fell on my head!

“Hey—what’s up?” I heard Alex whisper below me.

I ignored him. I swung myself around, and leaped to the floor.

“Ow!” I landed hard, twisting my ankle.

Pain shot up my leg. But I ignored it and hobbled to the door. I remembered
the light switch was somewhere over there.

I had to turn on the light.

I had to see for sure that I was right. That Joey slept floating in the air
above his bed.

“Harry—what’s wrong?” Alex called after me.

“What’s up? What time is it?” I heard Elvis groan sleepily from the bunk
against the other wall.

I pulled myself across the cabin. My hand fumbled against the wall until I
found the light switch.

I pushed it up.

The overhead light flashed on, flooding the tiny cabin in white light.

I raised my eyes to Joey’s bunk.

He lifted his head from the pillow and squinted down at me. “Harry—what’s
your problem?” he asked. He was sprawled on his stomach, on top of his blanket.

Not floating in the air. Not floating.

Resting his head in his hands, yawning and staring down at me.

“Turn off the light!” Sam barked. “If Uncle Marv catches us with the light on…”

“But—but—” I sputtered.

“Turn it
off
!” Elvis and Sam both insisted.

I clicked off the light.

“Sorry,” I muttered. “I thought I saw something.”

I felt like a jerk. Why did I think I saw Joey floating in the air?

I must be as creeped out as Alex, I decided. Now I’m
seeing
things!

I scolded myself and told myself to calm down.

You’re just nervous because it’s your first day in a new camp, I decided.

I started slowly across the cabin to my bed. Halfway there, I stepped in a
cold, sticky puddle of goo.

The next morning, Alex and I found our white Camp Spirit Moon uniforms—white shorts and T-shirts—waiting for us at the foot of our beds.