Read Camp Nowhere Online

Authors: R. L. Stine

Camp Nowhere (7 page)

“Huh? What are you talking about?” I whispered.

Before Drew could answer, Will stepped onto the path.

He glanced angrily at Drew, then turned quickly to us. “I brought extra blankets,” he said, holding them up to show us. “I’ll take them to your cabins.”

“That boy—” I started to say. “He said—”

I turned to where Drew had been standing. He was gone. Vanished.

“What did he want?” I asked, hurrying to catch up to Will.

Will shrugged. “Beats me. He’s kind of weird. The other boys don’t like him much. They call him Drew the Shmoo. Don’t pay any attention to him.”

He led us to the cabins. They were cleaner and nicer than our cabins at Camp Hawkwood.

We found white shorts and Camp Evergreen T-shirts waiting for us on our bunks. I couldn’t wait to get changed. My clothes were muddy and sweaty
and gross. The clean outfit felt so good.

Marty, David, and I slid under the blankets on our bunk beds. “It doesn’t get any better than this,” I muttered. I was asleep a few seconds later.

 

At breakfast the next morning, the other campers were very friendly. As we downed big plates of scrambled eggs with biscuits and bacon, we told them about our canoe trip. About the falls and the trick played on senior campers every year. And about how we hid from Ramos and made him think we crashed our canoes.

“He must be in a total panic!” the boy named Gary said. “He must be so scared, he’s probably sick.”

“Well, he’ll feel better as soon as Uncle Brian phones our camp,” Charlotte said.

I glanced around the mess hall, searching for Uncle Brian. I didn’t see him. I didn’t see that strange kid Drew, either.

After breakfast, Will found us some swimsuits—the girls had theirs on, under their clothes, for the canoe trip—and the five of us joined in the general swim at the lake. Even though it was early in the morning, the water felt warm. We all had a great time.

We had a race across the lake—the five of us versus five of them. They won easily. But we put up a really good race.

The other campers clapped and cheered and shouted as we swam. “Wish we had this kind of spirit at our camp,” Charlotte said to me as we were drying off. “These guys are really into camp!”

We split up after the swim. I joined a volleyball game on the basketball court. I thought my arms would ache after the long canoe trip. But it felt good to stretch and use my muscles.

Mike, another kid on my team, kept staring at my sneakers. As we were rotating sides of the net, he stopped me. “What kind of sneakers are those?” he asked.

“Air Jordans,” I told him.

He made a face. “Air
what
?”

“You know. Air Jordans,” I said.

“Weird,” Mike said, staring at my sneakers and shaking his head.

“You never heard of them?” I asked.

“Oh, yeah. Of course I have,” Mike replied quickly.

“Hey, Mike—your serve!” a kid yelled.

Mike hurried to his place.

I stared at him for a long while. What was
that
about? I wondered.

The other guys all wore black-and-white high-tops. I didn’t see any other Air Jordans.

The game ended just before lunch. Our team won—but by only two points.

I followed Mike to the mess hall. Guys were streaming in from all directions. I stopped at the front
door to the building and searched for Uncle Brian. I wanted to ask if he had been able to reach anyone at our camp.

Guys trotted past me, eagerly heading in to lunch. “Is there pizza today? I heard there was pizza today,” a chubby, curly-haired boy said excitedly.

Charlotte and Erin appeared. They told me they’d been playing softball.

“Have you seen that boy Drew?” Charlotte asked. “I wanted to ask him about last night.”

I shook my head. “I haven’t seen him all morning. I haven’t seen Uncle Brian, either.”

I followed them in to lunch. The mess hall
was
serving pizza—little round English muffin pizzas.

David, Marty, and I found a table near the wall. Mike and a guy named Peter were already sitting there. They each had taken five or six pizzas on their trays. Mike had a pizza in each hand.

Before I sat down, I searched the room, checking out each table. “Have you seen that kid Drew?” I asked Mike.

Mike grinned. “You mean Drew the Shmoo? What a weirdo.”

“Have you seen him today?” I repeated, pulling open my can of soda.

Mike frowned. “No. I haven’t run into him.”

“He stopped us last night down by the lake,” Marty said. “He said he wanted to tell us the truth.”

Mike and Peter exchanged glances.

“What do you think he meant?” David asked. “Was it some kind of a joke?”

“Probably,” Peter answered. “Drew the Shmoo is a real whack job. No one knows
what
he’s talking about.”

Mike swallowed a chunk of pizza. “His head isn’t exactly screwed on tight,” he said. “You can’t believe a word he says.”

“But everyone eats lunch at the same time—right?” I asked. “So why isn’t Drew here?”

Mike and Peter both shrugged. “Beats me,” Mike said. “Maybe he went on a hike or something.”

After lunch came more activities. Marty and I played two-on-two basketball with a couple of Camp Evergreen guys. We had another swim. I joined in a crazy “insect hunt” competition with a bunch of guys.

I didn’t see Drew or Uncle Brian all afternoon. I didn’t see them at dinner, either.

“How you guys doing?” Will came up to our table during dinner. “Everything okay?”

“Great,” Marty replied. “This is a cool camp.”

“Hey—we try!” Will replied.

“Have you heard from our camp?” I asked. “Did Uncle Brian reach them?”

There was a shout across the room. “Food fight! Food fight!” Cheers and laughter echoed off the low wooden rafters.

Will spun away and hurried to break it up.

I turned to my four friends. “Don’t you think it’s a little weird that we haven’t heard anything from our camp?”

David shrugged. “Whatever. I think I like it better here.”

“Yeah. The food is better,” Marty agreed. “And the guys are cooler.”

“I hate these geeky shorts,” Erin complained. “I hate wearing a uniform. I’d like to get back to my real clothes. Besides, this is a
boys’
camp!”

Charlotte finished her Coke. “Russell is right,” she said. “Where is Uncle Brian today? Why haven’t we heard anything?”

I shoved my tray away. “I think we should go see him,” I said. “His office is in the lodge behind the mess hall.”

Marty jumped up. “Yeah. Let’s go right now. We can just ask him what’s up.”

“Don’t you want to wait for dessert?” David asked. “I think it’s Rice Krispie treats and ice cream.”

“We’ll come back for dessert,” Marty said. He dragged David up from his chair.

The five of us made our way out of the mess hall.

“Hey, Russell—where are you going?” Mike shouted from a table near the door.

“Back in a minute!” I shouted back.

The sun was nearly down. The sky was purple, streaked with red. A squirrel stood beside the path from the mess hall. It turned and scampered behind
the building when it saw us coming.

“There’s no campfire tonight,” Marty said. “What are they doing instead?”

“I think they’re showing a movie,” Charlotte replied.

Walking quickly, we made our way around to the lodge. The mess hall and the lodge were the only large buildings in camp. They were both built to look like old-fashioned log cabins.

We stepped inside. The lights were on, but the building was silent. Three of the four doors were closed. We made our way over the creaking wood floor to the open door.

A hand-printed sign on the door read:
FEARLESS LEADER
.

“This must be Uncle Brian’s office,” I said.

“Hel-lo?” Charlotte called in. “Hello? Uncle Brian?”

No reply.

All five of us pushed through the narrow doorway into the office. A small desk cluttered with papers nearly filled the room. A box on the floor was filled with tennis balls. On the wall behind the desk was a handwritten chart:
COUNSELOR ASSIGNMENTS
.

“Not here,” Erin muttered.

I picked up the phone on the desk. “Why don’t we call Camp Hawkwood ourselves?” I said.

“Does anyone know the number?” Erin asked.

“No problem,” I said. “I can dial Information.”

I raised the phone to my ear.

Silence.

I clicked it a few times. Silence. No dial tone.

I felt my throat tighten. “It—it’s dead,” I muttered.

I clicked it a few more times. Then I pulled up the cord. “Whoa—look. It’s not dead. It isn’t plugged in!” I cried.

“Huh?” Erin gasped. “What is
going on
here?”

I heard a cough. Looked up. And saw Uncle Brian—his big body filling the doorway.

“Trying to make a call?” he asked. His tiny round black eyes narrowed on me.

“Yes,” I said. “But the phone—it’s…” I held up the cord.

Uncle Brian pushed past us and stepped around his desk. “The phone has been down all day,” he said. “I tried to call out a hundred times. But I couldn’t get a dial tone.”

“But—but it’s unplugged!” I sputtered.

He frowned. “Yeah. I know. I have to admit I lost my temper. After it didn’t work for the hundredth time, I just unplugged it.”

He took the cord from me. With a groan, he bent down and plugged the cord into the wall. “Now let’s try it.”

Uncle Brian raised the phone to his ear. “No. Still not working.” He set the phone down. “This has happened before. It’s so annoying.”

“So I guess that you couldn’t reach our camp,”
Charlotte said.

He shook his head. “No. I hope they’re not in a panic over there.” He rubbed his stubbled cheeks. “But they probably are. Five missing kids…”

“We—we’d kind of like to get back,” I said.

Uncle Brian nodded. “Of course. I understand. I’d drive you back myself. But some counselors took the van in to be repaired.”

He shrugged. “We’re kind of stuck. But don’t worry. I’ll keep trying. I’ll send up smoke signals if I have to!”

We all thanked him.

The knot in my throat started to loosen. I instantly felt a lot better.

“You’re all missing dessert,” Uncle Brian said, plopping into his desk chair. “Better get going. We’re having a movie tonight, too.”

He waved us to the door with both hands. “Relax. Lose those worried faces. Enjoy yourselves. I’ll take care of everything.”

We made our way out of the lodge and around to the mess hall. “Maybe we could have Camp Hawkwood send our stuff here,” David suggested. “It’s a much better camp!”

“Uncle Brian is so cool,” Marty added. “Guess that’s why everyone has such a great attitude here.”

We made it back to our table in time for dessert. And then we helped push the tables against the wall. The counselors set up a movie screen and brought in
a movie projector and several large reels of film.

They shut off the lights. And we all sat on the floor and watched an old black-and-white comedy movie. It was called
Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein
.

We laughed and hooted all through it. It was kind of funny. But I wondered why they didn’t show videos like this at
our
camp.

After the movie, the counselors led everyone in a bunch of camp songs. Some of the songs were the same ones we sing at our camp. So we all joined in.

We were feeling really good when Uncle Brian announced lights-out in fifteen minutes. Everyone scrambled to the mess hall door.

We stepped out into a clear, cool night. A half-moon floated low in the sky. Insects chirped in the trees.

I yawned as I followed David and Marty down the path to our cabin. My legs ached. I suddenly felt really sleepy.

So many activities today, I thought. We usually don’t pack as much in back at our camp.

I could hear Charlotte and Erin laughing about something behind us on the path. David and Marty were acting crazy, slapping each other, talking really fast. They were imitating Abbott and Costello, the two comedians in the movie.

We weren’t paying attention. We must have taken a wrong fork in the path. It grew a lot darker as
we wound our way down toward the lake.

Suddenly, we were walking past a wooden fence. It was a very tall fence. The planks rose at least two or three feet above our heads.

I turned to the others. “I think we went the wrong way. Do you remember this fence?”

Before anyone could answer, a low cry rang out. “Can you hear me? Please—help!”

I gasped. The frantic voice came from the other side of the fence.

“Help me. Can anyone hear me? Please!”

I heard footsteps thudding fast on the path.

“Hey, guys!” Will called, breathing hard. “Did you get lost? Your bunks are back there.” He pointed.

“We heard someone,” I said. “Calling for help.”

“On the other side of this fence,” Marty added.

“Huh?” Will turned and put his hands on the wooden planks. “Anyone back there?” he called. “Who’s there?”

Silence.

Will turned back to us. “No one there,” he said. “Are you guys pulling my leg or something? This is just a retaining wall. There’s nothing but woods behind it.”

“We’re not joking,” Charlotte told him. “We really did hear a boy. He was calling for help.”

Will glanced back at the fence. “Well, where is he now? I don’t hear anything. You guys are just overtired. You’re hearing things.”

He gave Marty and me a playful shove. “Let’s go,
everyone. Lights-out in ten minutes.”

He led the way back up the path to our bunks. We dropped off Charlotte and Erin at the first cabin. Then we followed him to our cabin a few yards away.

I waited until I was sure Will had left. Then I turned to Marty and David. “Don’t get undressed,” I said, keeping my voice low. “I think we should go back to that fence.”

“Yeah. Let’s do it,” Marty agreed. “Will was wrong. We weren’t hearing things. That was a real boy calling for help.”

“Why didn’t Will go around to the other side of the fence and check it out?” I asked.

“And why did he hurry us away from there so fast?” David added.

I poked my head out the cabin door. No one around. The coast was clear.

The three of us crept to the girls’ cabin. They were already at the door. “Back to the fence?” Charlotte whispered.

I nodded.

We made our way through the darkness to the path. The chirping insects suddenly grew silent. I could hear voices and laughter from the cabins in the center of camp. But we couldn’t see them from down here by the lake.

I heard the scrape of tiny footsteps. Leaves crackled. Some kind of animal scampered by our feet.

The path curved up beneath low, leafy trees.

My heart started to pound as the tall fence came into view, gray against the black night. I stepped up to the fence and brought my face close to the wooden planks. The others huddled close around me.

“Anyone here?” My voice came out in a whisper.

Silence.

I could hear the
plink plink
of lake water splashing against the small dock.

“Anyone here?” I repeated.

And then I heard the whispered reply. “Help me. Please—hurry!”

The fence stretched for only ten or twelve yards. I pushed myself away from it. Turned and ran to the end. My friends were close behind.

I stepped off the path. Squeezed behind the fence.

And let out a startled cry.

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