45 - Ghost Camp

by R. L. Stine

  “The water was so clear. I put my face in the water, and I stared down to the bottom. And—and I saw something down there.”

  He swallowed hard.

  “What was it? What did you see?” I asked.

  “A girl,” Alex replied with a shudder. “One of the girls from the younger group. I don’t know her name. She has short, curly black hair.”

  “She was under the water?” I demanded. “You mean, swimming underwater?”

  “No.” Alex shook his head. “She wasn’t swimming. She wasn’t moving. She was way underwater. I mean, near the bottom of the lake.”

  “She dove down?” I asked.

  Alex shrugged. “I got so scared!” he cried over the shouts of the two teams. “She wasn’t moving. I didn’t think she was breathing. Her arms floated up and down. And her eyes—her eyes stared out blankly into the water.”

  “She drowned?” I cried.

  “That’s what I thought,” Alex said. “I panicked. I mean, I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t think. I didn’t think. I just dove down.”

  “You dove down to the bottom to get her?” I asked.

  “Yeah. I didn’t really know if I was too late. Or if I should get a counselor. Or what,” Alex said, shuddering again.

  “I swam down. I grabbed her arms. Then I gripped her under the shoulders. I pulled her up. She floated up easily. Like she was weightless or something.

  “I pulled her up to the surface. Then I started to drag her to the shore. I was gasping for breath. Mostly from panic, I think. My chest felt about to burst. I was so scared.

  “And then I heard laughing. She laughed at me. I was still holding her under the shoulders. She turned—and spit water in my face!”

  “Oh, wow!” I gasped. “Wow, Alex. You mean she was okay?”

  “Yeah,” Alex replied, shaking his head. “She was perfectly okay. She was laughing at me. She thought it was really funny.

  “I just stared at her. I couldn’t believe it. I mean, she had been way down at the bottom. For a long, long time.

  “I let go of her. She floated away from me, still laughing.

  “I said, ‘How did you do that?’ That’s what I asked her. I asked, ‘How long can you hold your breath?’

  “And that made her laugh even harder. ‘How long?’ I asked.

  “And she said, ‘A long, long time.’

  “And then she swam back to the other girls.”

  “And what did you do?” I asked Alex.

  “I had to get out of the water,” he replied. “I was shaking all over. I couldn’t stop shaking. I—I thought…” His voice trailed off.

  “At least she was okay,” he murmured after a while. “But don’t you think that was weird, Harry? And then at dinner, when Joey stuck that fork in his neck—”

  “It’s weird, Alex,” I said softly. “But it may just be jokes.”

  “Jokes?” he asked. His dark eyes stared hard into mine.

  “Kids always play jokes on new campers,” I told him. “It’s a camp tradition. You know. Terrify the new kids. It’s probably just jokes. That’s all.”

  He chewed his bottom lip, thinking about it. Even though he was standing so close to me, the swirling black fog made him appear far away.

  I turned back to the game. The boys were moving across the grass toward the goal. Passing the ball, kicking it from player to player. They looked unreal, moving in and out of the swirling shadows.

  Jokes, I thought.

  All jokes.

  I squinted into the fog. And saw something that couldn’t be a joke.

  A boy kicked the ball to the net. The girls’ goalie moved to block the shot.

  She wasn’t fast enough. Or she stumbled.

  The ball hit her smack in the forehead.

  It made a sickening thud.

  The ball bounced onto the ground.

  And her head bounced beside it.

  15

  I gasped. And started to run.

  Through the thick wisps of black fog.

  The swirling, dark mist seemed to float up from the ground and sweep down from the trees. It felt cold and wet on my face as I hurtled toward the girl.

  Squinting into the heavy darkness, I could see her sprawled on her stomach on the ground.

  And her head…

  Her head…

  I bent down and grabbed it. I don’t know what I was thinking.

  Did I plan to plop it back on her shoulders?

  In a total panic, trembling with horror, I bent into the swirling mist—and picked up the head with both hands.

  It felt surprisingly hard. Inhumanly hard.

  I raised it. Raised it close to my face.

  And saw that I held a soccer ball.

  Not a head. Not a girl’s head.

  I heard a groan. And gazed down to see the girl climb to her knees. She muttered something under her breath and shook her head.

  Her head. The head on her shoulders.

  She stood and frowned at me.

  I stared at her face, her head. My whole body was still shaking.

  “Your head—” I choked out.

  She tossed back her straight blond hair. Brushed dirt off her white shorts. Then she reached for the ball.

  “Harry—you’re not on the first team!” I heard a boy call.

  “Get off the field!” another boy demanded.

  I turned and saw that the players had all gathered around.

  “But I saw her head fall off!” I blurted out.

  I instantly regretted it. I knew I shouldn’t have said it.

  Everyone laughed. They tossed back their heads and laughed at me. Someone slapped me on the back.

  Their grinning, laughing faces floated all around me. For a moment, it looked to me as if all their heads had come off. I was surrounded by laughing heads, bobbing in the eerie, shadowy light from the floodlights.

  The girl raised her hands to the sides of her head and tugged up. “See, Harry?” she cried. “See? It’s still glued on!”

  “Someone better check Harry’s head!” a boy cried.

  Everyone laughed some more.

  A kid came up, grabbed my head, and tugged it.

  “Ow!” I screamed.

  More wild laughter.

  I tossed the goalie the soccer ball. Then I slunk off the field.

  What is wrong with me? I wondered. Why am I so messed up?

  Why do I keep seeing things?

  Am I just nervous because I’m in a new camp? Or am I totally losing it?

  I trudged to the sidelines and kept walking. I didn’t know where I was going. I just knew I wanted to get away from the laughing kids, away from the soccer game.

  The heavy fog had settled over the field. I glanced back. I could hear the players’ shouts and cheers. But I could barely see them.

  I turned and started toward the row of cabins. The dew on the tall grass tickled my legs as I walked.

  I was halfway to the cabins when I realized I was being followed.

  16

  I spun around.

  A face floated out of the darkness.

  “Alex!” I cried. In all the excitement over the soccer ball and the goalie’s head, I had forgotten all about him.

  He stepped close to me, so close I could see beads of sweat on his upper lip. “I saw it, too,” Alex whispered.

  “Huh?” I gasped. I didn’t understand. “You saw what?”

  “The girl’s head,” Alex said sharply. He turned back to the soccer field. To see if anyone had followed him, I guess.

  Then he turned back to me and tugged my T-shirt sleeve. “I saw her head fall off, too. I saw it bounce on the ground.”

  I swallowed hard. “You did? Really?”

  He nodded. “I thought I was going to puke. It—it was so gross.”

  “But—it didn’t fall off!” I cried. “Didn’t you see? When I ran onto the field? I picked up the ball. Not her head.”

  “But I saw it, Harry,” Alex insisted. “At firs
t I thought it was just the fog. You know. My eyes playing tricks on me because of the heavy fog. But—”

  “It had to be the fog,” I replied quietly. “That girl—she was perfectly okay.”

  “But if we both saw it…” Alex started. He stopped and sighed. “This camp—it’s so weird.”

  “That’s for sure,” I agreed.

  Alex shoved his hands into the pockets of his shorts. He shook his head unhappily. “Elvis says the ghost stories are true,” he said.

  I put my hands on Alex’s shoulders. I could feel him trembling. We don’t believe in ghosts—remember?” I told him. “Remember?”

  He nodded slowly.

  The first howl made us both jump.

  I turned to the woods. Another eerie howl rose up from the same spot.

  Not an animal howl. Not an animal cry at all.

  A long, mournful howl. A human howl.

  “Owwoooooooooooooo.”

  Another deeper cry made me gasp.

  Alex grabbed my arm. His hand felt cold as ice.

  “What is that?” he choked out.

  I opened my mouth to reply—but another mournful howl interrupted.

  “Owwoooooooooooo.”

  I heard two creatures howling. Maybe three.

  Maybe more.

  The eerie wails floated up from behind the trees. Until it sounded as if the whole woods were howling.

  Inhuman howls. Ghostly howls.

  “We’re surrounded, Harry,” Alex whispered, still gripping my arm. “Whatever it is, it’s got us surrounded.”

  17

  “Owwooooooo.”

  The frightening wails rose up from the trees.

  “Run!” I whispered to Alex. “To the main lodge. Maybe we can find Uncle Marv. Maybe—”

  Heading into the fog, we started running toward the lodge.

  But the howls followed us. And grew louder.

  I heard the heavy thud of footsteps behind us, tromping over the grass.

  We can’t escape, I realized.

  Alex and I both turned at the same time.

  And saw Elvis, Sam, and Joey—grinning as they ran after us.

  Sam cupped his hands around his mouth and let out a long, ghostly howl. Laughing, Elvis and Joey tossed back their heads and howled too.

  “You jerks!” I screamed, swinging a fist at them.

  I could feel the blood rushing to my face.

  I felt ready to explode. I wanted to punch those three clowns. And kick them. And pound their grinning faces.

  “Gotcha!” Elvis cried. “Gotcha!” He turned to Sam and Joey. “Look at them! They’re shaking! Oh, wow! They’re shaking!”

  Sam and Joey laughed gleefully. “Did you think there were wolves in the woods?” Sam asked.

  “Or ghosts? Did you think we were ghosts?” Joey demanded.

  “Shut up,” I replied.

  Alex didn’t say a word. He lowered his eyes to the ground. I could see that he was as embarrassed as I was.

  “Owwoooooo!” Elvis uttered another high-pitched howl. He threw his arms around my brother’s waist and wrestled him to the ground.

  “Get off. Get off!” Alex cried angrily.

  The two of them wrestled around in the wet grass.

  “Did I scare you?” Elvis demanded breathlessly. “Admit it, Alex. You thought it was a ghost, right? Right?”

  Alex refused to reply. He let out a groan and heaved Elvis off him. They wrestled some more.

  Sam and Joey stepped up beside me, grinning. Very pleased with themselves.

  “You guys aren’t funny,” I grumbled. “That was so babyish. Really.”

  Joey slapped Sam a high five. “Babyish?” he cried. “If it was so babyish, why did you fall for it?”

  I opened my mouth to reply—but only a choking sound came out.

  Why did I fall for it? I asked myself.

  Why did I let myself get scared by three guys standing behind trees and making howling sounds?

  Normally, I would have laughed at such a dumb joke.

  As the five of us walked to the cabin, I thought hard about it. The campers and counselors had all been trying to scare Alex and me since we arrived, I realized. Even Uncle Marv had tried to scare us with his creepy stories.

  They must have a tradition of trying to scare new campers at Camp Spirit Moon, I decided.

  And it works. It really has scared Alex and me. It has made us tense. Jumpy. Ready to leap out of our skins at the slightest noise.

  We stepped into the cabin. I clicked the light on.

  Elvis, Sam, and Joey were still laughing, still enjoying their joke.

  Alex and I have got to get it together, I decided.

  We’ve got to shove all the stupid stuff about ghosts out of our heads.

  We don’t believe in ghosts, I told myself.

  We don’t believe in ghosts. We don’t believe in ghosts.

  I repeated that sentence over and over. Like a chant.

  Alex and I don’t believe in ghosts. We’ve never believed in ghosts.

  Never. Never.

  One night later… after a short hike through the woods—I did believe in ghosts!

  18

  Alex and I took a lot of teasing the next day.

  Coming out of the mess hall after breakfast, someone tossed a soccer ball at me and screamed, “My head! Give me back my head!”

  We had instructional swim in the morning. Joey and Sam and some of the other guys started howling like ghosts. Everyone thought it was a riot.

  I saw Lucy hanging out on the shore with some girls from her cabin. The other girls were laughing at the ghostly howls. Lucy was the only one who didn’t laugh.

  In fact, she had a solemn expression on her face. A thoughtful expression.

  Several times, I caught her staring at me.

  She’s probably thinking about what a total baby I am, I told myself unhappily. I’ll bet she feels sorry for me. Because I acted like such a jerk in front of everyone on the soccer field last night.

  After instructional swim, I dried myself off.

  Then I wrapped the towel around myself and walked over to Lucy at the little boat dock.

  The other girls had wandered away. Lucy stood in her white shorts and T-shirt. She had one foot on a plastic canoe, making it bob up and down in the shallow water.

  “Hi,” I said. I suddenly realized I didn’t know what to say.

  “Hi,” she replied.

  She didn’t smile. Her dark eyes locked on mine.

  To my surprise, she turned quickly—and ran off.

  “Hey—!” I called. I started to run after her. But stopped when my legs got tangled in my towel. “Hey—what’s your problem?”

  She vanished behind the Arts and Crafts cabin. She never looked back.

  I know what her problem is, I told myself sadly. She doesn’t want to be seen talking to a total nutcase. To someone who thinks that a girl’s head can roll off. And who thinks there are howling ghosts lurking in the woods.

  I wrapped the towel around me. Sam and Joey and some other guys were staring at me from the shore. I could see by the grins on their faces that they had seen Lucy run away from me.

  “Maybe it’s your breath!” Joey teased.

  They all fell on the ground, howling.

  * * *

  After lunch, we had letter-writing time. The counselors made sure we all stayed in our bunks and wrote letters home to our parents.

  It was a camp rule that we had to write home once a week. “So your parents won’t worry about you,” Uncle Marv announced at lunch. “We want them to know that you’re having the best summer of your lives—right?”

  “Yohhhhhhhhhh, Spirits!” everyone cheered.

  I wasn’t exactly having the best summer of my life.

  In fact, so far, this was one of the worst.

  But I decided not to write that in my letter home.

  I climbed up to my top bunk and started to think about my letter to Mom and Dad.

&nbs
p; Please come and get me, I thought I might write.

  Everyone is weird here. Alex and I are both scared out of our wits.

  No. No way. I couldn’t write that.

  I leaned over the side of the mattress and peered down at my brother. He was sitting on his bunk, crouched over his letter. I could see him scribbling away.

  “What are you writing?” I called down.

  “I’m telling them about the Camp Spirit Moon talent show,” he replied. “How I’m going to be the star. And how I’m going to be in the musical next week.”

  “Nice,” I muttered.

  I decided I’d tell my parents only good things, too. Why worry them? Why make them think that I’m losing it?

  If Alex isn’t writing about all the weird things, I won’t either, I decided.

  I leaned over my sheet of paper and started my letter:

  Dear Mom and Dad,

  Camp Spirit Moon is a lot more exciting than I ever dreamed….

  “Tonight’s after-dinner activity is a night hike,” Uncle Marv announced.

  A cheer shook the wooden rafters of the huge mess hall.

  “Where are we going to hike?” someone called out.

  Uncle Marv grinned. “Deep, deep into the woods.”

  Of course, that answer reminded everyone of Uncle Marv’s ghost story. Some kids cheered. Others laughed.

  Alex and I exchanged glances.

  But the hike turned out to be fun. A full moon made the woods glow. We followed a path that curved around the lake.

  Everyone seemed in a good mood. We sang the camp song so many times, I almost learned the words!

  About halfway around the lake, two deer stepped out onto the path. A mother and her doe.

  The little one was so cute. It looked just like Bambi.

  The two deer stared at us. They turned up their noses, as if to say, “What are you doing in our woods?”

  Then they calmly loped into the trees.

  The path headed through a small, round clearing. As we stepped out of the trees, the ground appeared to light up. The moonlight poured down so brightly, I felt as if I could see every bush, every weed, every blade of grass.