[Goosebumps 56] - The Curse of Camp Cold Lake

by R. L. Stine

  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.

  “No. I—” Jan started.

  “I want to be her buddy, but she doesn’t want to,” I said. I didn’t mean to whine, but it came out that way.

  Jan made an ugly face at me.

  “Get your canoe in the water,” Liz ordered. “You two are the last ones in.”

  Jan started to protest. Then she shrugged and sighed. “Okay, Sarah. Let’s go.”

  We pulled on life preservers. Then I grabbed a paddle and one end of the canoe. We dragged it to the water.

  The little boat bobbed against the shore. The lake current was stronger than I thought. Low waves plopped steadily against the grassy shore.

  Jan climbed in and took a seat in the front. “Thanks for embarrassing me in front of Liz,” she muttered.

  “I didn’t mean—” I started.

  “Okay. Push off,” she commanded.

  I tossed my paddle into the canoe. Then I leaned over and gave the boat a hard shove with both hands.

  It slid smoothly away from the shore. Then I had to wade out to it and pull myself inside.

  “Whoa!” As I struggled to hoist myself up, the canoe nearly tipped over.

  “Watch it!” Jan snapped. “You’re such a klutz, Sarah.”

  “Sorry,” I murmured. I was so grateful to have a buddy, I didn’t want any more trouble between us.

  I pulled myself into the canoe and dropped down behind Jan.

  The canoe bobbed up and down as we began to paddle. The rocking waters sparkled like silver under the bright morning sunshine.

  It took us a while to find the right rhythm.

  Neither of us spoke.

  The slap of our paddles and the rush of water against the little canoe were the only sounds we made.

  The lake gleamed in front of us like a giant, round mirror. I could see several canoes up ahead. Jan and I were far behind them.

  The rubber life preservers were hot and heavy. We pulled them off and dropped them to the canoe floor.

  We paddled steadily, not too fast, not too slow.

  I glanced back. The shore seemed miles away.

  I felt a chill of fear. I’m not that strong a swimmer. I suddenly wondered if I could swim all the way to shore from out here.

  “Hey!” As I stared back at the shore, the canoe suddenly started to rock.

  “Whoooa!” I grabbed the sides.

  I turned—and to my horror, saw Jan standing up!

  “Jan—stop! What are you doing?” I shrieked. “What are you doing?”

  The little boat rocked harder. I gripped the sides, struggling to steady it.

  Jan took a step.

  The canoe tilted. Water splashed over my feet.

  “Jan—stop!” I cried again. “Sit down! What are you doing?”

  She narrowed her eyes at me. “Bye, Sarah.”

  10

  The boat tilted more as she raised one foot to the side. She pulled off the T-shirt she had over her swimsuit and tossed it to the canoe floor.

  “No—please!” I begged. “Don’t leave me out here. I’m not a good swimmer. What if the boat tips over? I don’t think I can swim back from here!”

  “You ruined my summer,” she accused. “Now everyone knows I have asthma. So they won’t let me go on the six-day canoe trip.”

  “But—but it was an accident—” I sputtered.

  “And you’re messing up everything for Briana and Meg too,” Jan said angrily.

  “No. Wait—” I started. “I apologized to them. I didn’t mean—”

  She shifted her weight.

  Tilted the canoe the other way.

  Then she shifted her weight again. Again.

  Deliberately making the canoe rock.

  Deliberately trying to frighten me.

  “Don’t tip it over, Jan. Please—” I pleaded.

  She tilted it more. Made it rock so hard, I thought I’d tumble out.

  “I’m really not a good swimmer,” I repeated. “I really don’t think I—”

  She uttered a disgusted groan. Then she tossed back her hair. Raised her arms over her head. Bent her knees. Kicked off hard.

  And dove into the lake.

  “Noooo!” I let out a cry as the boat rocked violently. Jan’s dive sent up a tall, foamy wave of water.

  The canoe tilted… rocked…

  …and flipped over!

  I hit with a smack. Cold water rose up around me as I sank.

  Frozen in shock.

  I felt the canoe bounce above me on the surface.

  Then I started to choke as water invaded my nose and mouth.

  Sputtering and gagging, I thrashed my arms and legs.

  Pushed myself… pushed… pushed myself to the surface.

  And raised my head over the bobbing current.

  Still sputtering, I sucked in a deep breath of fresh air. Then another.

  Floating on the surface, I saw the canoe bobbing upside down on the water.

  I struggled to catch my breath, to slow my racing heart.

  Then I swam to the canoe. I grabbed on to it. Wrapped one arm around it. Held on for dear life.

  Bobbing with the canoe, I squinted into the sunlight, searching for Jan.

  “Jan? Jan?” I called to her.

  “Jan? Where are you?”

  I turned and searched in all directions.

  A feeling of cold dread tightened my chest.

  “Jan? Jan? Can you hear me?” I shouted.

  11

  I held on to the canoe with one hand and shielded my eyes with the other. “Jan? Jan?” I shouted her name as loudly as I could.

  And then I spotted her.

  I saw her blond hair glowing in the bright sunlight. And I saw her red swimsuit. Her arms moving steadily, smoothly. Her feet kicking up foamy waves.

  She was making her way to shore.

  She swam away and left me here, I realized.

  I turned and searched for the other canoes. Squinting against the sun, I could see them far ahead of me. Too far away to hear my shouts.

  Maybe I can turn the canoe over, I decided. Then I can climb in and paddle back to shore.

  But where were the paddles?

  I raised my eyes to the camp—and saw Jan talking to Liz. She was waving her arms frantically and pointing out to the water. Pointing to me.

  A crowd of kids gathered around them. I could hear excited voices. Shouts and cries.

  I saw Liz pull a canoe into the water.

  She’s coming to rescue me, I realized. Jan must have told her I couldn’t swim all the way back.

  I suddenly felt embarrassed. I knew all the kids on shore were watching me. I knew they were talking about what a wimp I must be.

  But I didn’t care. I just wanted to get back on dry land.

  It didn’t take Liz long to paddle out to me. When I pulled myself into the canoe, I started to thank her.

  But she didn’t let me get a word out. “Why did you do it, Sarah?” she demanded.

  “Excuse me?” I gasped. “Do what?”

  “Why did you tip the canoe over?” Liz asked.

  I opened my mouth to protest—but only a squeak came out.

  Liz frowned at me. “Jan says you deliberately tipped over the canoe. Don’t you know how dangerous that is, Sarah?”

  “But—but—but—!”

  “I’m calling a special camp meeting because of this,” Liz said. “Water safety is so important. The water safety rules must be followed at all times. Camp Cold Lake couldn’t exist if campers didn’t follow every rule.”

  “I wish it didn’t exist,” I muttered unhappily.

  * * *

  So Liz held a long meeting at the lodge. And everyone
at camp had to be there.

  She went over the rules of water safety again. Rule by rule.

  And then she showed an endless slide show about the Buddy System.

  I sat way on the side and stared down at the floor. But every time I raised my eyes, I saw Briana, Meg, and Jan glaring angrily at me.

  Other campers kept staring at me too. I guess they all blamed me for this long, boring meeting. Jan probably told everyone in camp that I was the one who tipped over the canoe.

  “I want you to memorize all twenty water safety rules,” Liz was saying.

  More campers stared angrily at me.

  Everyone hates me, I thought, shaking my head sadly. And there is nothing I can do about it.

  Then, suddenly, I had an idea.

  12

  “I’m going to run away,” I told Aaron.

  “Good-bye,” he said calmly. “Good luck.”

  “No. Really!” I insisted. “I’m not kidding. I’m really going to run away from this camp.”

  “Send me a postcard,” Aaron said.

  I had dragged him away from the mess hall after dinner. I really needed to talk to him. I pulled him to the edge of the lake.

  No one else was down here. Everyone was still at the mess hall in the lodge.

  I glanced at the canoes, stacked in piles of three near the water. I pictured Jan’s blond hair, her red swimsuit. I pictured her swimming away, leaving me in the middle of the lake.

  And then lying to Liz. Getting me in trouble….

  I shook Aaron by the shoulders. “Why won’t you take me seriously?” I cried through clenched teeth.

  He laughed.

  “You shouldn’t shake a person after they’ve just eaten the camp meat loaf.” He let out a loud burp.

  “You’re so gross.” I groaned.

  He grinned. “It’s a family tradition.”

  “Stop joking around. I mean it,” I snapped. “I’m really unhappy, Aaron. I hate this camp. There is no phone here we can use. I can’t call Mom and Dad. So I’m going to run away.”

  His expression changed. He saw that I was serious.

  He skipped a flat stone across the water. I watched the ripples spread out, then disappear.

  The lake reflected the gray evening sky. Everything was gray. The ground, the sky, the water. Reflections of trees shimmered darkly in the gray water.

  “Where are you going to run?” Aaron asked softly. I could see him quickly becoming the mature, “wiser” brother again. But I didn’t care.

  I had to tell him my plan. I couldn’t leave camp without letting him know.

  “Through the woods,” I said. I pointed. “There is a town on the other side of the woods. When I get to the town, I’m going to call Mom and Dad and tell them to come get me.”

  “You can’t!” Aaron protested.

  I stuck my chin out. “Why not?”

  “We’re not allowed in the woods,” he replied. “Richard said the woods were dangerous—remember?”

  I shoved Aaron again. I was so tense, so angry, I didn’t know what to do with my hands.

  “I don’t care what Richard said!” I bellowed. “I’m running away—remember?”

  “Give the camp a chance, Sarah,” Aaron urged. “We haven’t even been here a whole week. Give the place a chance.”

  That’s when I totally lost it.

  “I hate it when you’re so sensible!” I screamed.

  I shoved him hard. With both hands.

  His mouth flew open. He lost his balance—and toppled into the lake.

  He landed on his back in the wet mud just past the shore.

  “Ooof!” I heard the air shoot out of him.

  “Sorry—” I started. “It was an accident, Aaron. I—”

  He scrambled to his feet, pulling up greasy gunk and seaweed with him. Shaking his fists. Calling me all kinds of names.

  I sighed. Now even my brother was furious at me.

  What am I going to do? I asked myself. What can I do?

  As I trudged back to the cabin, another plan began to form in my mind.

  A really desperate plan.

  A really dangerous plan.

  “Tomorrow,” I murmured to myself, “I’m going to show them all!”

  13

  I thought about my plan all the next morning. I was frightened—but I knew I had to go through with it.

  Our group had Free Swim that afternoon. Of course, everyone had a buddy but me.

  I dug my bare feet into the muddy shore and watched everyone pair up and head into the water. Puffy white clouds floated overhead, reflected in the nearly still water.

  Tiny gnats jumped over the surface of the water. I stared at them, wondering why they didn’t get wet.

  “Sarah, it’s swim time,” Liz called. She hurried over to me. She wore a pink one-piece bathing suit under crisp white tennis shorts.

  I adjusted my swimsuit top. My hands were trembling.

  I really was scared by what I planned to do.

  “Why aren’t you swimming?” Liz demanded. She brushed a fly off my shoulder.

  “I—I don’t have a buddy,” I stammered.

  She glanced around, trying to find someone for me. But everyone was in the lake.

  “Well…” Liz twisted her mouth fretfully. “Go ahead and swim by yourself. Stay close to the shore. And I’ll keep an eye on you.”

  “Great. Thanks,” I said. I smiled at her, then trotted enthusiastically to the edge of the water.

  I didn’t want her to guess that it wasn’t going to be a normal swim for me. That I had something really terrible in mind….

  I stepped into the water.

  Oooh. So cold.

  A cloud rolled over the sun. The sky darkened, and the air grew colder.

  My feet sank into the muddy bottom of the lake. Up ahead, I saw the gnats—hundreds of them—hopping on the water.

  Yuck, I thought. Why do I have to swim with mud and gnats?

  I took a deep breath and stepped out farther. When the cold water was nearly up to my waist, I lowered my body in and started to swim.

  I swam a few long laps. I needed to get used to the water. And I needed to get my breathing steady.

  A short distance away, Briana and some other girls were having some kind of relay race. They were laughing and cheering. Having a great time.

  They won’t be laughing in a few minutes. I told myself bitterly.

  A tall spray of water rushed over me. I cried out.

  Another wave smacked my face.

  It took me a few seconds to realize that I was being splashed—by Aaron.

  He rose up in front of me—and spit a stream of water into my face.

  “Yuck! How can you put this water in your mouth?” I cried, totally grossed out.

  He laughed and splashed away to join his buddy.

  He won’t be laughing in a few minutes, either, I told myself. He’ll treat me differently after today.

  Everyone will.

  I suddenly felt guilty. I should have told Aaron what I planned to do. I didn’t really want to scare him. I wanted to scare everyone else.

  But I knew if I told my plan to practical, sensible Aaron, he would talk me out of it. Or go tell Liz so that she would stop me.

  Well… no one is going to stop me, I vowed.

  Have you guessed my desperate plan?

  It was really quite simple.

  I planned to drown myself.

  Well… not really.

  I planned to dive down to the lake bottom. Stay under. A long, long time.

  And make everyone think that I had drowned.

  I can hold my breath for a very long time. It’s because I play the flute. I’ve really developed my lung power.

  I can probably stay underwater for two or three minutes.

  Long enough to scare everyone to death.

  Everyone will panic. Even Briana, Meg, and Jan.

  Everyone will feel sorry for how mean they were to me.

  I’ll get a
new start. After my close call in the lake, everyone in camp will want to be nice to me.

  Everyone will want to be my buddy.

  So… here goes.

  I took one last look at all the laughing, shouting swimmers.

  Then I sucked in the biggest breath I had ever taken.

  And plunged down, down to the bottom of the lake.

  14

  The lake was shallow for only a few feet. Then the lake bottom gave way in a steep drop.

  I kicked hard, pushing myself away from the other swimmers. Then I pulled myself upright, lowering my feet.

  Yes.

  I dropped my hands to my sides and let myself sink.

  Down, down.

  I opened my eyes as I dropped to the lake bottom. I saw only green. Waves of pale light shimmered through the green.

  I’m floating inside an emerald, I thought. Floating down, down in a sparkling green jewel.

  I pictured the tiny emerald on the ring Mom wore every day. Her engagement ring. I thought about Mom and Dad, thought how sad they’d be if I really did drown.

  We never should have sent Sarah to that water sports camp, they would say.

  My feet hit the soft lake floor.

  A bubble of air escaped my mouth. I pressed my lips tighter, holding the air inside.

  I slowly floated up toward the surface.

  I closed my eyes. I kept my whole body still to make it look as if I’d drowned.

  I pictured the horror on Liz’s face when she saw my body floating so still, floating under the water, my hair bobbing on the surface.

  I almost laughed when I thought of Liz leaping into the lake to rescue me, having to get her crisp white tennis shorts wet, I forced myself to remain still.

  I shut my eyes even tighter. And thought about Briana, Meg, and Jan.

  They’ll feel so guilty They’ll never forgive themselves for the way they treated me.

  After my close call, they’ll see how mean they were. And they’ll want to be best friends with me.

  We’ll all be best friends.

  And we’ll have a great summer together.

  My chest began to feel tight. The back of my throat began to burn.

  I opened my lips and let out a few more bubbles of air.