An eye – it’s an eye blinking.
Suddenly, the sun-baked boards directly under Rory’s feet buckled and pitched wildly to the side.
He was in the air. And then he was falling.
As he hit the cold water, he saw the shape shoot out from under the dock, and he knew it was over. He just hoped it wouldn’t hurt too much.
Water rushed over his face and pounded in his ears.
He felt a tiny sting on his leg, like an ant bite. Immediately, everything started to get fuzzy and confusing. And though he was underwater and could feel himself sliding down into unconsciousness, he could hear a muffled sound somewhere up above him.
It was Greg screaming.
And screaming.
And screaming.
Then the screaming faded away, and there was only darkness.
2
“Come on, now,” Dill said. “You know it’ll be cool.”
Peter and Dill were seated around the kitchen table, eating waffles that Mom had cooked in the toaster. Dill had only agreed to come in the house once Peter had assured him that Grandfather was locked away in the study, as the old man usually was on Saturday mornings. And Saturday afternoons. In fact, almost all of the time.
Mom sat a few feet away, trying to get Beth to eat some Cheerios.
“What did you say this place was again?” Peter asked.
“Itcheepatucknee Springs. You can start all the way up at the top and rent an innertube or a raft, and go all the way down the river and stop before you get to the lake. Then they’ll load you up in a truck and drive you back up to the top and you can do it all over again. It takes like an hour, and sometimes there’s otters in the springs, and you can see clear down to the bottom. You gotta wear old shoes, though, cuz there’s some rocks.”
“I don’t understand how you can’t say ‘hypocrite’ but you can say Itchy – what is it again?”
“ITCH-ee puh-TUCK-nee,” Dill enunciated. “It’s an Indian name. I’m part Indian, so I can say it real easy.”
Mom looked over at Dill. With his blond buzz cut, his sunburned white skin, and his jug ears sticking out, he looked like the most un-Indian person in the entire world.
“You’re part Indian,” Mom repeated, clearly not believing him.
Dill nodded. “Yes.”
“American Indian.”
“Ye-eeees,” Dill said in a sing-song voice, annoyed that his ancestry was being questioned.
“Didn’t you say last week that you were part pirate, too?” Peter asked.
“Yeah, so?” Dill scowled.
“Nothing.”
“What?!”
“You just seem to be ‘part something’ of whatever movie you watched that day.”
“What are you saying?” Dill asked, his eyes narrowing.
“Well, you watched Pirates Of The Caribbean last week, and yesterday you watched Dances With Wolves. What are you going to be when you watch E.T.?”
Dill squinted angrily at Peter.
Peter tried to contain his laughter. “Or…or a movie about poop?”
“Poooooop!” Beth spluttered at the other end of the table, splattering Cheerios everywhere.
“I don’t like what you’re saying,” Dill snarled. “Plus, there aren’t any movies about poop.” He cocked his head as though considering something very important. “Cuz I’d totally watch that movie.”
“Boys, boys,” Mom called out. “Let’s keep this conversation out of the toilet, shall we? Where do you get the last name Bodinksi from, Dill?”
“Why do you ask me totally crazy questions like that?” Dill fumed. “That has nothing to do with Indians.”
“Okay, Mr. Bodiniski, what’s your Indian name?”
Dill didn’t miss a beat. “Swims With Big Otters.”
“Swims With Big Otters.” Mom’s tone of voice sounded like Uh huh. Riiiiight.
“Yes! Itcheepatucknee! Otters swim around there all the time!”
“Are you sure it’s not ‘Tells Big Stories And Fibs?’” Peter asked, laughing again.
“I’ll bet you.” Dill stuck out his small finger. “Pinky swear. Five bucks says there’s otters.”
“Unh-unh,” Peter said, shaking his head.
“We don’t bet, Dill,” Mom explained.
“Cuz you’re scared,” Dill smirked.
Mom looked at Dill like he was about to get a spanking. Dill stopped smirking and went back to eating his waffle.
“Whas an ottah?” Beth asked.
“It’s like a big rat that lives in the water,” Dill stated matter-of-factly.
Beth looked horrified.
“But it’s friendly, and it swims around and plays with other otters all the time, and it’ll come up to you if you’re in an innertube in Itcheepatucknee,” Dill emphasized.
Beth’s face wrinkled up in worry. “I don’ wanna see no ottahs,” she whined.
“You’re not, don’t worry,” Mom told her.
“Come oooooonnnn,” Dill pleaded. “This is probably gonna be the last hot day for the rest of the year, and the water’s really cool, and did I mention the otters? We can innertube down the spring – ”
“Alright, alright, ALRIGHT,” Mom groaned. “Just – stop talking. You want to go, Peter?”
Peter shrugged. “It could be neat.”
Mom glared at Dill. “All right, you two can go.”
Dill beamed a thousand-watt smile. “Cool. Can you drive us?”
3
“I have no idea why I’m doing this,” Mom grumbled as her car chugged down the tree-lined road.
“Cause you looooove us,” Dill answered.
“I don’t love you, Dill,” Mom muttered.
“I’m okay with that as long as you drive me there.”
Peter laughed. Mom had never liked Dill much, but she put up with him because he was Peter’s only friend since they had moved to Duskerville a month ago. She tried to get Peter to make new friends every week at school, but Peter and Dill were kind of outsiders. Other kids didn’t like Peter much because he was new, and they didn’t like Dill because he was…Dill.
Actually, that wasn’t true. Nobody except the school bullies really disliked them. Peter got along fine with most of the kids, but nobody was really welcoming or super nice to him…except the nerds. Or weird girls who turned into vampires.
That was another thing: he and Dill had been through too much together. From the dead men in the garden patch, to the undead mess with Mercy Chalmers, to Beth being replaced with a troll baby just a week before, Dill had suffered through a lot with Peter. That created a bond that went beyond just having a bud to hang out with after school.
Not that Peter’s mom understood, but that was okay. She didn’t know about the vampires, and she still blamed Dill for the black soot marks the dead guys had left when they invaded the house. Peter intended on keeping it that way. He didn’t know how she would react if he told her the truth. She probably wouldn’t believe any of it…but then again, what if she were presented with undeniable evidence? She might move them back to California. A month ago, that would have suited Peter just fine. But now he had Dill, his best friend in his entire life, and he didn’t want to move just because some stupid classmates had come back from the dead.
Peter often wondered, Why is this happening to me? And why here? Nothing even remotely strange had ever happened back in California. He figured it had to be related to the notebook he’d seen in Grandfather’s study the day Beth disappeared: “The CURSE shall fall upon the Flannagan family for thirteen generations…”
He wanted to know what it meant, but the one time he had asked Grandfather about it, the old man had seemed to lie. He said it was nothing more than a rumor. The topic was clearly off-limits, like the doorway under the stairs that Peter was forbidden to open ‘ON PAIN OF DEATH.’
Asking Grandfather about it again would only get him in trouble, and trouble was the furthest thing from his mind right now. The weather was gorgeous. It was already
October, and for the first time in weeks – and maybe the last time for months to come – it felt like summer again. The sun beat down on the car’s roof, and the wind blowing through the open windows was deliciously hot.
“Why can’t you ride your bikes?” Mom asked.
“Too far, too far!” Dill protested.
“Too fah, too fah,” Beth echoed. She was strapped in the back seat next to Dill, and kept trying to smack him on the head.
“It’s like, ten miles,” Dill continued as he batted away Beth’s hand.
“Ten my-uws,” Beth shrieked.
“Fine. I guess just give me a phone call when you’re ready to come home. Do they have payphones there?”
“Oh yeah,” Dill said. “We’ll just need a couple of quarters.”
“Alright. Is there anything else you need, Peter?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Money,” Dill said. “He’ll need some money for an innertube.”
“How much?” Mom asked.
“Five dollars.”
“Ohhhhh, so that explains why you wanted to bet,” Mom realized.
“Yeah, but only five dollars. I’m not greedy, you know.”
Peter snorted. Dill whacked him on the head from the backseat.
“Okay, Peter, get my purse out and grab a five. And some quarters.”
“Ahem.” Dill cleared his throat. “I, uh…I could use some money, too. Since you guys don’t bet.”
Mom didn’t even glance over her shoulder. “How much.”
“Five dollars.”
Mom breathed out in exasperation. “Fine.”
“And we could use another five dollars for food…they’ve got a cool little cart where they sell hot dogs and stuff.”
Mom shook her head. “Fine.”
“Five dollars…each.”
Mom glared at Dill in the rearview mirror. “You’re really pushing it, you know that, Mr. ‘Swims With Big Otters’?”
“Just think of it as my babysitting fee for that time that helped you get a job.”
It was true; Mom had been offered the job as a legal secretary at Charterton University immediately after her interview, which had been made possible by Peter and Dill babysitting Beth for the afternoon. Peter didn’t think it wise to mention that they had lost Beth, though. In another dimension. And that, for a while, she had been replaced with a green-skinned changeling.
Mom grimaced. “Fine. Five babysitting dollars for each of you, but the rest is coming out of your allowance, Peter.”
“Aw, man!”
Dill patted him on the shoulder. “It’s worth it, dude.”
“It better be,” Peter grumbled, “cuz you’re paying me back.”
Dill smiled and nodded. “Sure, sure.”
“I’m serious, Dill.”
“Sure, sure.”
“Dilllll…” Peter warned.
“Ottahs!” Beth screamed, and pulled Dill’s hair.
“Aaaaaah!” Dill yelled, and the subject of money was forgotten.
4
Mom’s Honda turned off the main road and through the gate, which had a big log on top with the words ITCHEEPATUCKNEE STATE PARK burned into the wood. It looked exactly like the signs outside summer camps in any of a dozen kids movies Peter had seen over the years.
The car puttered down the road for another mile before finally reaching the end. There they saw several log cabin buildings of various sizes, five picnic benches, stacks of black innertubes, and a dozen kids swarming around a couple of park rangers. The kids ranged from Peter and Dill’s age to teenagers.
Nearby were several public telephones in plastic boxes attached to wooden posts. And there was a hot dog cart, just like Dill said, run by a short man with a mustache.
Mom drove into the gravel parking lot and eased into a space between a minivan and a jeep. Several parents stood around chatting, waiting to make sure their kids were okay before they drove off.
As Mom unbuckled Beth from her car seat, Dill and Peter spilled out of the car. Dill was carrying a plastic supermarket bag over his arm, and he started rummaging through its contents.
Peter wandered over to a sun-bleached poster behind a scratched plastic window. Over the years, dozens of people had carved their initials in the logs that held the display in place.
WELCOME TO ITCHEEPATUCKNEE STATE FOREST, HOME OF THE STATE’S LARGEST NATURAL SPRINGS!
ITCHEEPATUCKNEE IS AN INDIAN WORD FROM THE LOCAL WINNAPOTAKA TRIBE, WHO FISHED HERE FOR HUNDREDS OF YEARS. ITCHEEPATUCKNEE MEANS ‘HIDDEN WATERS,’ WHICH NICELY DESCRIBES THE SEVENTEEN NATURAL SPRINGS THAT BUBBLE UP FROM THE GROUND AND JOIN TOGETHER TO FORM A SINGLE, LARGE STREAM. THE STREAM RUNS THROUGH THE FOREST BEFORE JOINING LAKE HAMPSTEAD. THE WATER IS FRESH AND CLEAR AT THE SOURCE OF THE SPRINGS, BUT DON’T DRINK IT, JUST TO BE SAFE! OTTERS, BIRDS, AND FISH FROM LAKE HAMPSTEAD LIVE IN THE STREAMS YEAR-ROUND, AND CAN OFTEN BE SEEN ON A DOWNSTREAM TOUR.
THE STREAM RUNS FOR ALMOST TWO MILES FROM THE NORTHERNMOST TRIBUTARY. PLEASE DO NOT LITTER – KEEP THE GROUNDS CLEAN AND SAFE FOR THE ANIMALS, AND ALSO OTHER VISITORS TO ENJOY!
Below that there was a map. There was a winding blue line that got bigger here, smaller there, and finally dumped into a much larger lake.
“Are you sure this is absolutely safe, Dill?” Mom asked worriedly.
“Oh, yes ma’am,” a voice spoke from behind them.
They all looked over to see a tall man wearing the beige shirt and pants of a ranger. He was tan, brown-haired, and had a sparkling white smile. He put out a welcoming hand, which Mom met halfway, even with Beth wrapped around her neck.
“I’m Eric Hartwell, the lead ranger. Are these your brothers?” he asked in a teasing voice.
“Uh…uh…that one’s my son,” Mom said, kind of dazed, as she pointed to Peter.
The ranger smiled. “You must be new around here. I don’t recognize any of you guys except that rascal over there. What’s up, Dill.”
“‘Sup, Eric,” Dill replied.
“You know each other?” Peter asked.
“Yeah, Eric’s worked here since I was a kid,” Dill explained. “This here’s Peter, and that’s his mom, and that’s his sister Beth.”
“Well hey, Beth, you sure are a pretty little lady!”
Beth hid her face in the crook of Mom’s neck.
Eric grinned. “She takes after her mother, except for the shy part, I hope. Well, ‘Peter’s mom’ – ”
“Melissa…my name is Melissa,” Mom said, and laughed a little. It sounded like a giggle.
Peter and Dill stared at each other.
“Melissa,” the ranger repeated. “That’s a pretty name.”
Mom giggled again.
“Oh grooossssssss,” Dill whispered.
Peter felt a little odd. He hadn’t seen his mother act this loopy in…well, never.
“The guys are completely safe, we haven’t had an accident in years. The spring is a pretty slow-moving current, but it can get over four feet deep at points, so we offer life preserver jackets.”
Mom nodded. “That sounds good. I want them to wear those.”
“Aw man!” Dill moaned. “Only geeks wear life preserver jackets!”
“Well then, you’re going to have to be a geek for a day,” Mom ordered.
“I’m not payin’ for that,” Dill refused.
“They’re free,” Eric offered helpfully.
“Greaaaaaaat,” Dill muttered.
Mom smiled at the ranger. “So…it’s Eric, right?”
“Yup. Have you been in town long, or – ”
“HEY! Let’s get this show on the road!” Dill barked.
“Dill,” Mom warned.
“Money money money,” Dill chanted as he held out a hungry hand.
Mom fumbled with her purse and pushed some money into Dill’s grubby fist.
“Go,” she said through bared teeth, and jerked her head. She softened when she looked over at Peter. “Have fun, sport. Call me when you’re done.”
>
“Thanks,” Peter said, and ambled off after Dill. He looked back at the ranger, who was still talking to Mom.
“Eric’s cool,” Dill said. “He’s old, but he’s cool.”
“How old is he?” Peter asked.
“I don’t know. Old. Twenty-eight or something.”
“My mom’s thirty-two.”
“Geez, man, she’s freakin’ ancient.” Dill shook his head. “Old people. The only good thing about them is when they give you money.”
5
As they stood in line, Peter and Dill looked at the thirty or so innertubes leaned against each other like a roll of giant, licorice Lifesavers. There were also a couple of red plastic kayaks and yellow inflatable river rafts. Completing the picture were small piles of blue plastic paddles and smelly, orange life preservers.
They weren’t in line long when a college-aged ranger up front called, “Next.”
Dill stepped forward. “Yo.”
“What do you want,” the ranger said. He was a gawky-looking kid with freckles and glasses.
“What can we get?” Peter asked.
College Ranger ticked off the options in a bored voice. “There’s innertubes for five dollars a day. The kayaks are fifteen dollars a day, and the rafts go for twenty-five.”
Dill pointed to a nearby shed where metal cylinders, rubber hoses, and breathing masks lay on the concrete floor. “What about those?”
“Huh? Oh, that’s scuba equipment. There’s a couple of deep holes and some caves in the lake where spring water flows out and makes everything crystal clear. If you’re certified, you can rent out the equipment and dive down there.”
“I’ll take that.”
“You’re not certified,” the freckled kid said, clearly irritated.
“Oh yes I am,” Dill said, even more irritated that he was being doubted.
“No you’re not.”
“I’m way more certified than you are.”
PETER AND THE VAMPIRES (Volume One) (PETER AND THE MONSTERS) Page 28