Camp Nowhere Read online

  Charlotte was waiting for me outside the doc’s cabin. The sun had fallen behind the trees. A cool wind made the lake ripple with low waves. The waves made a gentle slapping sound on the grassy shore.

  Canoes bobbed like dark fish at the small dock. The canoes reminded me that our trip to Forbidden Falls was a week away.

  Charlotte must have been reading my mind. “Ramos is going to talk about the falls at the campfire tonight,” she said. “He is going to tell the legend.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Again?”

  She pulled me to a wide old maple tree near the shore. “Where are we going?” I asked. “I have to go back to my bunk. You know. Get changed for the campfire.”

  She frowned at me. “I know why you climbed that rock wall,” she said softly.

  “Yeah. To rescue Harvey,” I said.

  Charlotte shook her head. “No. The real reason. You were trying to prove to everyone that you’re not a wimp.”

  “No way!” I protested.

  “I know you’re sick of everyone giving you a hard time,” Charlotte continued. “I know you’re tired of everyone teasing you, Russell. But you went too far. You could have hurt yourself.”

  “Thanks, Mom,” I replied sarcastically.

  “I’m just trying to help you,” Charlotte snapped. Her blue eyes flashed. “Those snakes—they’re deadly!”

  “I’ll try to remember that,” I muttered.

  I let out a long sigh. “You know, this hasn’t been the greatest summer. First, I couldn’t finish the swim across the lake because I got that cramp. Then I got those red splotches all over my body, and I had to drop off the soccer team.”

  “I know, I know,” Charlotte said.

  “And then I started screaming like a baby when I thought Ramos was a grizzly bear.”

  “Can’t you just forget about that?” Charlotte asked.

  “How can I?” I yelled. “No one will let me forget it! Kids tease me about it every day. Even my best friends! I should just wear a sign around my neck: CAMP WIMP.”

  “You don’t have to shout,” Charlotte said. “I was just trying to help. How are you going to enjoy anything at camp if you keep going over and over these things?”

  “I’m going to enjoy camp by being the bravest one who goes over the falls!” I declared. I gave her a quick wave, then took off toward my cabin. “Let’s get going. We’re going to be late.”

  The boys’ cabins were on the steep hill that overlooked Camp Hawkwood. The girls’ cabins were clustered down by the lake.

  The senior campers’ cabin stood at the very top. By the time I climbed the hill, I was sweaty and panting.

  Marty and David had already showered and changed into jeans and sweatshirts. They asked me how it went with Dr. Larry. Then they headed out to the campfire.

  I showered and changed. The windows were open, and a cold breeze swept through the cabin. I shivered. The July sun was strong during the day. But as soon as it disappeared, the air turned as cool as autumn.

  I straightened my camp sweatshirt and made my way out the door. I could see everyone gathering at the meeting grounds in the middle of the camp. And I could smell hot dogs roasting on the grill. I started to jog.

  I was nearly down the hill when I heard Marty’s alarmed shout: “Look out, Russell—that cotton-mouth followed you!”

  I stopped. “Whoa.” I shook my head. “No way, Marty. No way I’m falling for that dumb trick!”

  Then I felt the snake drop onto my shoulder.

  5

  I let out a frightened scream and shook my whole body, trying to throw the snake off.

  I could already hear kids laughing. I knew I’d been tricked again.

  My heart still pounding, I spun around—and saw David dangling a rope over my shoulder. He and Marty slapped each other a high-five and collapsed on the ground, giggling.

  “Not funny,” I muttered through clenched teeth. I could feel the blood rushing to my head. I knew I was blushing.

  There is only one way to stop their jokes, I thought as I hurried away from them. I have to prove to them I’m brave—no matter what it takes.

  Campers were lined up at the grill to get their hot dogs. Two counselors—Ramos and Corey—were struggling to light the campfire. The logs must have been wet. The kindling sizzled and smoked but wouldn’t light.

  I pulled out my red lighter and flicked the flame high. “Let me try,” I said, bumping Corey out of the way. I held the flame under the kindling until it finally caught fire.

  “Way to go, Russell!” Ramos clapped me hard on the back. I nearly went flying into the fire. “You’re a hero!”

  “I heard you saved Harvey’s life,” Corey said. A grin spread over his face. “Well, actually, I heard you fell off the rock cliff and Harvey landed on top of you.”

  Both counselors laughed.

  “That’s not what happened,” I said angrily. “I was attacked by snakes, and I fought them off.”

  “That’s cool,” Ramos said, nodding his head. One of his favorite expressions. He kicked the fire. “Get yourself some food, Russell. As soon as the logs catch, I’m going to start the meeting.”

  The campfire crackled and sent purple embers shooting into the sky. The sun had gone down. The air had grown cold. The dancing red flames were our only light.

  The tangy smell of the barbecued hot dogs lingered in the air. Somewhere in the distance, a bird hooted, a sad, lonely sound.

  We huddled in a tight circle around the fire. Tucking my legs under me, I glanced around at the faces, orange in the firelight.

  Marty and David sat together across the fire from me. They were laughing about something. Marty grabbed David’s baseball cap and shoved it low over David’s face. I saw Charlotte sitting with Erin and some girls from another cabin.

  Ramos stepped into the center of the circle. He is big and powerful looking, with broad shoulders and muscle-man arms. Some of the other counselors call him Truck, but I don’t think he likes it.

  Ramos is twenty or so. He has long, straight black hair that he pulls back in a ponytail. He has round, black eyes, heavy eyebrows, and a thick black mustache he calls his bandito mustache.

  Ramos hardly ever smiles. He speaks slowly, in a soft voice, and walks around camp with his eyes narrowed to slits, like a gunfighter looking for a fight.

  He says he is descended from one of the Indian tribes that used to live near the lake. He told us he lives on his own in the woods and survives by hunting and fishing.

  But Erin, who works part-time in the camp office, found out he actually lives in Shaker Heights in Ohio. And he’s a student at Oberlin College.

  He is a great storyteller. Which is one of the reasons everyone likes him. He’s the most popular counselor at Camp Hawkwood. Even more popular than Priscilla, the girls’ senior counselor, who looks like a supermodel.

  Standing with the fire behind him, his dark eyes moving from face to face, Ramos raised his arms for quiet. “Tonight, I am going to tell once again the legend of Forbidden Falls,” he announced.

  “In a few days, our five senior campers will leave on the two-day trip to the falls. They have heard the legend many times. But it is repeated every year for the new campers, who will have to face the terrors of the falls in the near future.”

  A log split in the fire, sending up a burst of red sparks. A couple of girls jumped, startled by the crack of the log.

  “The story starts one hundred and fifty years ago,” Ramos began. “This forest and lake and all the land for hundreds of miles was controlled by the Onanoga Indian tribe. To this tribe, the falls was a sacred place.

  “It was known as the Pure Place. No one was allowed to bathe in the waters that flowed from the falls. No one was even allowed to step into those waters.”

  In the distance, the bird hooted again. The night air felt heavy and damp. I leaned closer to the fire.

  “During the Civil War, a unit of Union soldiers came to the river,” Ramos continued. “The men were
tired and dirty. They admired the steep, raging waterfall. Then they stripped off their uniforms and bathed in the river.

  “They defiled the waters. They dirtied the waters. For the Indians, their Pure Place was destroyed forever.

  “The tribe put a curse on the falls. They gave it a new name—Forbidden Falls.

  “Soon after, the Indians were driven away. They were all forced from their land. The falls continued to roar—with no one to hear it.”

  Ramos shifted his weight and crossed his arms in front of him. His dark eyes flashed in the light of the darting fire.

  “Now we come to more modern times,” he said. “Several years ago, a group of boys from Camp Hawkwood went on a long canoe trip. On the second day, they discovered the falls.

  “They stared in amazement at the steep drop, at the foaming, rushing white water. They didn’t know anything about the falls. They didn’t know about its history—or about the curse.

  “These campers were looking for adventure. For thrills. They decided to take their canoes over the falls. Whooping and shouting and laughing, they braved the white water. And do you know what happened to them?”

  Silence. No one answered.

  “They crashed?” a girl finally said.

  Ramos shook his head. He narrowed his dark eyes. “They disappeared—never to be seen again. Five campers. Twelve years old. Just like you. We don’t know what happened to them,” he said in a soft voice just above a whisper. “They rode their canoes over Forbidden Falls. They splashed into the river below. And they were never seen again!

  “No sign of the boys’ canoes,” Ramos continued. “No life jackets. No clothes. No canoe paddles. No sign of the boys. All vanished.”

  He had been talking so softly, but now he raised his voice. “And here is the strangest thing of all,” he said. “The strangest thing of all. For years afterward, the missing boys’ parents received letters from them—letters about how much they were enjoying camp!”

  Silence. The only sounds were the crackle of the fire and the soft rush of the wind.

  And then I heard a laugh. And recognized David’s high giggle.

  Ramos turned slowly to face David across the fire. “I hope you are still laughing after your trip next week,” he told him.

  Ramos motioned to David with both hands. “Come on. Stand up. Get over here. You, too, Marty.” He gazed around the circle of campers. “I need all five senior campers up here,” he said.

  I knew what this was about, but I still felt a chill at the back of my neck. It was moment-of-silence time.

  The five of us lined up in front of the fire. David and Marty were having a playful shoving match. Ramos quickly broke it up.

  “Grow up,” Erin muttered.

  “What for?” David replied.

  Ramos put one big hand on David’s shoulder, the other on Marty’s. He turned them toward the fire. We all faced the flames.

  “Every year, we gather here and hold a moment of silence,” Ramos announced. “A moment of silence for the five brave campers who will go up against Forbidden Falls next week.”

  Charlotte glanced at me. Was she looking to see if I was scared or something? I turned away and stared into the glowing flames.

  “We hold a moment of silence and hope they will return safely,” Ramos continued. “Let us all shut our eyes now and listen to the silence of the night.”

  Total quiet now. Even the wind grew softer.

  I shut my eyes. Another chill rolled down my back. I shoved my hands into my jeans pockets.

  What was that sound? I listened hard. At first, I thought I was hearing the crack of the fire. But the sound was steady. A steady rhythm.

  Drums?

  Yes. A gentle thud thud thud. Indian drums. So soft…so far away…

  I opened my eyes. I felt someone there, someone behind me. I glanced back.

  No. No one.

  I stared into the fire. And listened to the steady pounding of the drums.

  Thud thud thud.

  My four friends remained facing the fire, their eyes shut tightly.

  Don’t they hear it? I wondered. Don’t they hear it, too?

  6

  After lights-out, Marty, David, and I were lying in our bunks, still talking about Forbidden Falls.

  Silvery light from a pale half-moon washed in through the cabin window. The gusting wind made the flimsy cabin walls creak and groan.

  Ramos shared the cabin with us. But he was hanging out with the other counselors at the main lodge.

  I pulled my wool blanket up to my chin. I was sleeping in my clothes, but it didn’t help much. This was the coldest night of the summer.

  “I know this kid who is friends with a guy who knew one of the boys who disappeared,” Marty was saying.

  “But that’s impossible. Those kids disappeared years ago,” I protested.

  “They weren’t the only ones,” Marty replied. “A lot of kids who tried the falls have disappeared.”

  “Says who?” I demanded.

  “Says this kid I know,” Marty insisted. “He told me that five kids disappeared just a few years ago. They went out in two canoes, and they never came back.”

  “Just a few years ago? No way!” I muttered.

  “Did this kid you know go to camp here?” David asked.

  “No. But he knew a kid who did,” Marty answered. “It was his cousin, I think. And the cousin said the camp had to close down for a while. Because the kids disappeared.”

  I laughed. “That’s crazy,” I said. “Forbidden Falls can’t be that bad. It can’t be. Or they wouldn’t let us go there.”

  “Ramos told me it’s the rocks that are the killers,” David said. “You go straight down the falls. Then you run into these pointy rocks sticking up from the water. If you hit one…” His voice trailed off.

  “He was just trying to scare you,” I said.

  “Maybe. Maybe not,” David replied. It was the first time all summer that I’d heard him sound serious. “A kid from my school was a senior counselor here three summers ago. He went on the canoe trip to the falls—”

  “And did he come back?” I asked.

  “Yeah, he came back,” David said. “But he said it was the most terrifying thing he ever did in his life. He said he still dreams about it.”

  “Wow,” I murmured.

  “Uh-oh. Now Russell is going to have nightmares!” Marty teased.

  “Nightmares about what?” a voice called.

  The cabin door slammed behind Ramos. “Why are you guys still awake? Who is going to have nightmares?”

  “Russell is,” Marty answered, sitting up in his bunk. He tossed his pillow across the cabin at me. “Because we’ve been talking about Forbidden Falls.”

  “Guess you guys are a little stressed about it,” Ramos said. He grabbed Marty’s pillow and tossed it back to him. Then he dropped down onto his own bed.

  “Marty told us that some kids disappeared at the falls just a few years ago,” David said. “Is that true?”

  “And David knows a guy who went over the falls and said it was the most terrifying day of his life,” I added.

  Ramos shook his head. “What’s your problem, guys? Why do you listen to that stuff? You don’t believe those wild stories—do you?”

  “Well? Should we believe them?” I asked.

  “It’s a piece of cake, guys,” Ramos said. “The falls, I mean. You want to know the truth about the falls? It’s a piece of cake.”

  All three of us stared at him. He didn’t crack a smile. He almost never did. It was impossible to tell when Ramos was telling the truth and when he wasn’t.

  “And I’ll tell you what,” Ramos said, jumping to his feet. “If any of you are really scared, you don’t have to go.”

  David and Marty both turned and stared at me.

  “Give me a break,” I said. “Don’t look at me. I’m not the one who is scared.”

  Ramos started across the cabin. “Later, guys. Don’t wait up.”

>   The door slammed behind him. I could hear his heavy footsteps as he trotted down the hill.

  “He was lying,” Marty said, settling into his bed. “He was definitely lying.”

  “The falls isn’t a piece of cake,” David said. “No way. He just doesn’t want us to know the truth.”

  “Well…” I whispered, my stomach suddenly feeling a little fluttery. “We’ll soon find out….”

  7

  A few days later, in the early morning, Ramos and another counselor, Corey, led the five of us senior campers to the river. It was a short hike through the woods that surrounded the camp.

  Bright yellow sunlight shimmered down through the tall trees. Insects chirped all around us. We walked single file along the narrow dirt path that led to the riverbank. The woods smelled fresh and clean.

  “This is your one and only practice session,” Ramos said when we arrived on the shore. “So take it seriously.”

  He stared at David when he said that. He knew it was hard to get David to take anything seriously!

  Corey unwrapped a pile of blue life jackets. “Try these on,” he said, handing them out. “You have to get familiar with these. Find one that fits snugly.”

  I took a life jacket off the pile. It was heavier than I remembered. It was made of some kind of rubber with a dozen straps all over it.

  It took me a while to figure out the top from the bottom. Then I slid my arms through the holes, and Charlotte started to help me deal with the straps and buckles.

  “Whoa. Check this out!” David called. I spun around.

  He had his life jacket on backward. “It’s a straitjacket!” he declared.

  “You need a straitjacket!” Ramos sneered.

  “We all need straitjackets for going on this trip,” David joked.

  “Give me a break, guys. No more jokes,” Ramos ordered. “These jackets could save your lives.”

  He helped David turn his life jacket around. Corey inspected the rest of us. I had buckled my straps in all the wrong places. I had to unsnap them all and start over again.

  I heard shouts in the distance. The cheers of kids playing softball back at camp.