The Curse of Camp Cold Lake

by R. L. Stine

  I gazed around the circle of campers. Their faces glowed orange in the bright firelight. Their eyes sparkled.

  I wondered if anyone here would be my friend.

  I knew I was feeling really sorry for myself. I wondered if any other new campers felt the way I did.

  Richard’s voice droned on in the back of my mind. He was saying something about the main lodge. Something about the meal schedule. Then he began talking about towels.

  I started to pay attention when he introduced the head waterfront counselor. Her name was Liz.

  Everyone clapped when she stood up beside Richard. One of the boys whistled loudly.

  “She’s awesome!” another boy called out.

  Everyone laughed.

  Liz grinned too. She waved for everyone to get quiet.

  “Are you all having a good time?” she called out.

  Everyone cheered and clapped.

  “Well, tomorrow will be your first day at the waterfront,” Liz announced. “And before you go in the lake, there are lots of water rules we want you to know.”

  “Like, don’t drink the water!” Richard chimed in. “Unless you’re very thirsty!”

  Some kids laughed. I didn’t. The thought of drinking that disgusting, slimy water made me sick.

  Liz didn’t laugh, either. She frowned at Richard. “We need to take this seriously,” she scolded.

  “I was serious!” Richard joked.

  Liz ignored him. “When you get back to your bunks, you will find a list of water rules on your bed,” she continued, brushing back her long, frizzy red hair. “There are twenty rules on the list. And you need to know them all.”

  Huh? Twenty rules? I thought. How can there be twenty rules?

  It will take all summer to learn twenty rules.

  Liz held up a sheet of paper. “I’m going to go over the list with you now. If you have any questions, just call them out.”

  “Can we go swimming now?” a boy shouted, trying to be funny.

  Lots of kids laughed.

  But Liz didn’t crack a smile. “That’s rule number eight,” she replied. “No night swimming, even if counselors are with you.”

  “Don’t ever swim with counselors!” Richard joked. “They have germs!”

  Richard is pretty funny, I thought. He seems like a good guy.

  But Liz seems so serious.

  The sheet of paper fluttered in the wind. She gripped it with both hands. Her red hair caught the glow of the fire.

  “The most important rule at Camp Cold Lake is the Buddy System,” Liz announced. “When you are in the lake, you must always have a buddy.”

  She glanced quickly at the campers seated around her. “Even if you are only wading in up to your ankles, you must have a swimming buddy with you,” she said. “You may have a different buddy each time. Or you may choose a buddy for the whole summer. But you must always have a buddy.”

  She took a deep breath. “Are there any questions?”

  “Will you be my buddy?” a boy shouted.

  Everyone laughed. I laughed too. The kid’s timing was perfect.

  But once again, Liz didn’t crack a smile. “As waterfront counselor, I will act as everyone’s buddy,” she replied seriously.

  “Now, rule number two,” she continued. “Never swim more than three boat lengths from one of our safety boats. Rule number three—no shouting or pretending to be in trouble in the water. No horseplay. No kidding around. Rule number four …”

  She talked on and on, reading off all twenty rules.

  I groaned. She talks to us like we’re five-year-olds, I thought.

  And there are so many water rules.

  “Let me repeat one more time about the Buddy System … ,” Liz was saying.

  Gazing past the fire, I could see the dark lake. Smooth and black and silent.

  The lake had tiny waves. No current. No dangerous tides.

  So why are there so many rules? I wondered.

  What are they scared of?

  Liz talked for at least half an hour. Richard kept cracking jokes, trying to make her laugh. But she never even smiled.

  She talked some more about every rule on the list. Then she told us to read the list carefully when we got back to our cabins.

  “Have a safe summer, everyone!” she called out. “See you at the waterfront!”

  Everyone cheered and whistled again as Liz stepped away from the fire. I yawned and stretched my hands over my head. That was really boring, I thought.

  I’ve never heard of a place having so many rules.

  I swatted another mosquito on my neck. I was starting to feel really itchy. That’s what being outdoors does to me. It makes me itch like crazy.

  The fire had died down. A blanket of purple embers glowed on the dark ground. The night air grew cool.

  To end the campfire, Richard told everyone to stand and sing the camp song. “You new campers probably don’t know the words,” he said. “You’re lucky!”

  Everyone laughed. Then Richard began to sing, and everyone joined in.

  I tried to follow along. But I couldn’t catch all of the words. I picked up pieces of the song …

  “Wetter is better …”

  “Get in the swim.

  Show your vigor and vim …”

  “Every son and daughter

  should be in the water,

  the cold, cold water

  of Camp Cold Lake.”

  Yuck. I agreed with Richard about the words to the song. They were so lame!

  Gazing across the fire, I saw Aaron singing his heart out. He seemed to know every word already.

  How does he do it? I wondered, scratching my itchy legs. How does he manage to be so perfect? To fit in everywhere?

  As the song ended, Richard raised his hands for quiet. “I have a few final announcements,” he called out. “First of all, none of you can carry a tune! Second …”

  I didn’t hear the rest. I turned to find Briana and Meg standing beside me.

  I took a step back. “What do you want?” I snapped.

  “We want to apologize,” Briana said.

  Meg nodded. “Yeah. We’re sorry we played that dumb joke on you.”

  Richard’s voice droned on behind us. Briana put a hand on my shoulder. “We got off to a bad start,” she said. “Let’s start all over again. Okay, Sarah?”

  “Yeah. Let’s start fresh,” Meg agreed.

  A smile spread over my face. “Great,” I said. “Excellent.”

  “Excellent!” Briana repeated, smiling too.

  She slapped me on the back. “A fresh start!”

  Richard was still making announcements. “Tomorrow at four-thirty, those interested in windsurfing …”

  Aaron will probably try that, I thought. I watched Briana and Meg walk away.

  A fresh start, I thought. I began to feel a lot happier.

  The happy feeling lasted for about two seconds.

  Then my back started to itch.

  I turned to the fire and saw Briana and Meg staring back at me. They were both giggling.

  Other kids had turned away from Richard and were watching me.

  “Ohhhh.” I groaned when I felt something warm wriggle against my back.

  Something warm and dry, moving under my T-shirt.

  “Ohhhh.” It moved again.

  I reached one hand back. And poked it under my shirt.

  What is it? What did Briana put back there?

  I grabbed the thing and pulled it out.

  And started to scream.

  The snake wriggled in my hand.

  It looked like a long black shoelace. With eyes! And a mouth that kept snapping open and shut.

  “Noooooo!” I totally lost it.

  I let out a shrill scream. And I heaved the snake with all my might.

  It sailed into the woods.

  My back still itched like crazy. I could still feel it wriggling against my skin.

  I reached back and tried to scratch with bot
h hands.

  Kids were laughing. Telling each other what Briana had done.

  I didn’t care. I just wanted to rub away the feeling of that snake against my skin.

  My whole body tingled. I uttered an angry cry. “How could you?” I shrieked at Briana and Meg. “What is your problem?”

  Aaron came hurrying over to be the grown-up again.

  Just what I needed. Mr. Mature Kid Brother.

  “Sarah, did it bite you?” he asked softly.

  I shook my head. “I can still feel it!” I wailed. “Did you see it? It was three feet long!”

  “Calm down,” Aaron whispered. “Everyone is staring at you.”

  “Think I don’t know it?” I snapped.

  “Well, it was just a tiny snake,” Aaron said. “Totally harmless. Try to get yourself together.”

  “I—I—I—” I sputtered. I was too upset, too angry to talk.

  Aaron raised his eyes to Briana and Meg. “Why are those two girls picking on you?” he asked.

  “I don’t know!” I wailed. “Because … because they’re creeps! That’s why!”

  “Well, try to calm down,” Aaron repeated. “Look at you, Sarah. You’re shaking all over.”

  “You’d shake too if you had a disgusting snake crawling up and down your skin!” I replied. “And I really don’t need your advice, Aaron. I really don’t—”

  “Fine,” he replied. He spun away and hurried back to his friends.

  “I don’t believe him,” I muttered.

  Dad is a doctor, and Aaron is just like him. He thinks he has to take care of everyone in the world.

  Well, I can take care of myself. I don’t need my little brother telling me to calm down every second.

  Richard was still talking. But I didn’t care. I stepped away from the campfire circle and started back to the cabin.

  The path curved through a patch of woods, up the sloping hill where the cabins were perched. Away from the glow of the fire, I was surrounded by darkness.

  I clicked on my flashlight and aimed the yellow circle of light at my feet. My sneakers crunched over dry leaves and twigs. The trees whispered above me.

  How did I get off to such a bad start? I asked myself.

  Why do Briana and Meg hate me so much?

  Maybe they’re just mean, I decided. Maybe they’re total creeps. Maybe they’re mean to everyone.

  They think they’re so hot because they were at camp last year.

  Without realizing it, I had wandered off the path. “Hey—” I swung the flashlight around, searching for the way back.

  The light swept over tilting trees, tall clumps of weeds, a fallen log.

  Panic tightened my throat.

  Where is the path? Where?

  I took a few steps. My sneaker crunched over leaves.

  And then my foot sank into something soft.

  Quicksand!

  No. Not quicksand.

  There’s no such thing as quicksand. I remembered that from some science book I read in fifth grade.

  I lowered the flashlight.

  “Ohhhh.” Mud. Thick, gooey mud.

  My sneaker sank deep into the ooze.

  I pulled my leg up with a groan—and nearly toppled over backwards.

  It’s just mud, I told myself. It’s disgusting—but it’s no big deal.

  But then I saw the spiders.

  Dozens of them. The biggest spiders I ever saw.

  There must have been a nest of them in the mud.

  They were crawling over my shoe, crawling up the leg of my jeans.

  “Ohhhh. Yuck!”

  Dozens of spiders clung to me. I shook my sneaker. Hard. Then I began batting at them with my free hand.

  “I hate this caaaaaamp!” I screamed.

  I beat some spiders away with the flashlight.

  And then I had an idea.

  I mean, why shouldn’t I pay Briana and Meg back for what they did to me?

  They embarrassed me in front of the whole camp. And I hardly did anything to them.

  I emptied the batteries from the flashlight. I took a deep breath. Then I bent down—and scooped a bunch of spiders into the flashlight.

  Yuck. I felt sick. I really did.

  I mean, can you imagine—me handling spiders!

  But I knew it would be worth it. Soon.

  I filled the flashlight with the squirming, black creatures. Then I screwed on the top.

  I stepped over a fallen tree trunk. Found the path. And, carrying the flashlight carefully, I eagerly hurried to the cabin.

  I stopped outside the door. The lights were on inside the cabin.

  I peeked in through the open window. No. No sign of anyone.

  I crept inside.

  I pulled up the blanket on Briana’s bed. Then I emptied half of the spiders onto her sheet. I carefully pulled the blanket over them and smoothed it out.

  I was pouring the rest of the spiders into Meg’s bed when I heard a shuffling noise behind me. Quickly, I pulled Meg’s blanket back into place and spun around.

  Jan stepped into the cabin. “What’s up?” she asked in her hoarse, croaky voice.

  “Nothing,” I replied, hiding the flashlight behind my back.

  Jan yawned. “It’s Lights Out in ten minutes,” she said.

  I glanced at Briana’s bunk. I’d left one corner of the blanket untucked. Briana won’t notice, I decided.

  I realized I was grinning. I quickly changed my expression. I didn’t want Jan asking a lot of questions.

  She turned and pulled a long white nightshirt from her dresser drawer. “What did you sign up for tomorrow?” she asked. “Free Swim?”

  “No. Canoeing,” I told her.

  I wanted to be in a nice, dry canoe. Not flopping around in the dirty lake with fish and other slimy creatures.

  “Hey. Me too,” Jan said.

  I started to ask if she would be my buddy. But Briana and Meg came strolling through the door.

  They saw me—and burst out laughing.

  “What was that wild dance you were doing at the campfire?” Briana teased.

  “You looked as if you had a snake down your back or something!” Meg declared.

  They laughed some more.

  That’s okay, I thought. Go ahead and laugh.

  In a few minutes, when you climb under your covers, I’ll be laughing.

  I couldn’t wait.

  A few minutes later, Jan turned out the lights. I lay on the hard mattress, staring up at Meg’s mattress above my head, grinning. Waiting …

  Waiting …

  Meg shifted her weight in the bunk above me.

  I heard her gasp.

  And then both Briana and Meg began to scream.

  I laughed out loud. I couldn’t hold it in.

  “It bit me! It bit me!” Briana howled.

  The lights flashed on.

  “Help!” Meg cried. She leaped out of bed. Her bare feet hit the floor hard. It sounded like an elephant landing.

  “It bit me!” Briana cried.

  She and Meg were both on the floor now, dancing and wriggling. Slapping at their arms, their legs, their backs.

  I bit my lip to make myself stop laughing.

  “Spiders! Spiders all over!” Meg shrieked. “Ow! It bit me too!” She pulled up the sleeve of her nightshirt. “Ow! That hurts!”

  Jan stood at the light switch. I hadn’t moved from my bed. I was enjoying it all too much. Watching them squirm and dance.

  But Jan’s words wiped the smile from my face.

  “Sarah put the spiders there,” she told Briana and Meg. “I saw her messing around at your bunks when I came in.”

  What a snitch. I guess she was still angry at me because I spilled her asthma medicine.

  Well, that put an end to the fun.

  I think Briana and Meg wanted to strangle me. They both had to go to the infirmary and wake up the camp nurse. They had to make sure the spider bites weren’t poisonous.

  How was I to know th
at these were the kind of spiders that bite?

  It was just a joke, after all.

  I tried to apologize when they came trudging back from the nurse. But they wouldn’t speak to me. And neither would Jan.

  Oh well. I sighed. So they won’t be my friends. I’ll make other friends….

  The next morning in the mess hall, I ate breakfast alone. The room had two long tables that stretched from wall to wall. One for boys and one for girls.

  I sat at the far end of the girls’ table and spooned up my cornflakes in silence.

  All the other girls were chattering away. At the other end of the table, Briana and Meg kept flashing me angry looks.

  I saw Aaron at the boys’ table. He and his friends were laughing and goofing on each other. Aaron balanced a pancake on his forehead. Another boy slapped it off.

  At least he’s having fun, I thought bitterly.

  I had the sudden urge to go over and tell Aaron how unhappy I was. But I knew he would just tell me to lighten up.

  So I sat at my lonely end of the table and choked down my cornflakes.

  Did things get better when I arrived at the lake for canoeing?

  Three guesses.

  Kids were already pulling their canoes off the grassy shore, into the water. They all seemed to be paired up.

  Liz walked over to me. Her white one-piece bathing suit glowed in the morning sunlight. She had her frizzy red hair tied behind her head.

  She let a silver whistle fall from her mouth. “What’s your name?” she asked, eyes on the lake.

  “Sarah,” I told her. “I signed up for canoeing, but—”

  “You need a buddy,” she said. “Find a buddy. The canoes are over there.” She pointed, then trotted away.

  Canoes splashed into the water. The slap of the wooden paddles echoed around the shore.

  I ran to the stack of canoes, searching for a buddy. But everyone had already chosen partners.

  I was about to give up when I spotted Jan, pulling a canoe to the water. “Do you have a buddy?” I called.

  She shook her head.

  “Well, can I come with you?” I asked.

  “I don’t think so,” she replied nastily. “Do you have any more spiders you want to set loose?”

  “Jan, please—” I started.

  “Are you two together?” Liz appeared behind us, startling us both.