by R. L. Stine
I heard a loud cough from the back of the cabin. “Is someone else here?” I asked.
“Meet your other bunkmate,” Mama said.
I gazed around the cabin, but I couldn’t see anyone. My eyes stopped at a tall mound of goo at the back wall. I blinked a few times and tried to focus. It looked like a lime-green, gooey pile of snot.
“Meet Leaky Lindsay,” Mama said. She waved at the mound with her cane. “Don’t be shy, you snot-rag. Come over here.”
The pile of thick goo slid toward us, and I could see her more clearly. Leaky Lindsay was leaking wet snot from her nose and her mouth. It even seemed to be coming out of her ears! And her brown hair was drenched.
Her T-shirt and shorts were caked with snot, which dripped down to her sneakers.
“Does anyone have a tissue?” she asked. “I forgot to bring any.”
“You poor thing,” Babbling Brooke said. “Do you have a cold?”
“No,” she replied.
Mama checked the big watch on her wrist. “I’ll let you dim-dums unpack,” she said. “But you’d better hurry. We have an important camp meeting in thirty seconds.”
ELEVEN
Adam Bomb here again. You’re going to E-X-P-L-O-D-E when you read what happened next.
We all gathered for our first camp meeting. We were headed to a circle of low benches between the mess hall and the activities building.
As we walked over to join the others, we passed the supply cabin and the equipment shack. And we were almost to the meeting grounds when Pat Splat tripped over a fallen tree branch and smashed his head against the flagpole.
SPLAAAAAAT.
We helped Pat to his feet and he walked in zigzags the rest of the way. But he swore he was okay.
I thought I heard some kind of wild animal growling behind us in the woods, but it was just Junkfood John’s stomach. It was noon, and we hadn’t had any lunch yet.
The girls were already at the meeting grounds. So we guys found seats on the lower benches. Everyone except Nervous Rex.
Rex refused to leave the cabin—we left him hiding under his bunk. “Call me in September,” he said.
I pleaded with him to come to the meeting. “Rex, you’ll never be Camp Champ if you don’t come out from under the bed.”
“I want to be Cabin Champ,” he said.
I didn’t have the heart to tell him I’d already seen a mouse in our cabin. I didn’t want to spoil his day.
There were at least thirty campers at the meeting. Most of them were strangers. I saw Babbling Brooke sitting with someone I didn’t recognize. The girl kept wiping thick goo from her nose and mouth. I think she was using a bath towel for a tissue.
And I saw Nasty Nancy, a girl we met at the Smellville Pet Show last fall. I waved to her, and she stuck her tongue out and made a very rude noise with it. She really is nasty.
The round, red-faced camp owner, Uncle Cousin, stepped into the middle of the circle. A man in an apron and wearing a tall, white chef’s cap stood next to him.
“Plum pudding, everyone!” Uncle Cousin exclaimed. “Plummy, all! Booyah!”
He waited for us to respond. But, of course, no one knew how.
“Our camp chef,” Cousin said. He put a hand on the man’s shoulder. “Chef Indy. Let me introduce Chef Indy Jestian.”
Chef Indy smiled and nodded, and his chef’s cap fell into the dirt. It took him a while to dust it off and get it back on his head.
“Ricky ticky! Chef Indy makes a chipmunk salad to die for!” Uncle Cousin exclaimed. “You will all be enjoying it soon.”
“YAAAAY!” Babbling Brooke jumped to her feet and cheered.
Brooke cheers at anything. She even cheers at toenail clippings.
“Chipmunks have been scarce this year,” Uncle Cousin continued. “But we think we will almost have enough to go around.”
“YAAAAY.” Brooke cheered again. Then she saw she was the only one cheering for chipmunk salad, so she dropped back onto her bench.
“I have a special announcement,” Chef Indy said. A gust of wind came up, and his chef’s cap blew off his head and sailed over the meeting grounds.
“I’ll get it!” Pat Splat cried. He took off after the cap. But he tripped over a bench and smashed his head against one of the concrete planters.
SPLAAAAAT.
The cap sailed over the mess hall and out of sight. Pat Splat crawled back to the bench on his hands and knees. “It got away,” he mumbled.
Chef Indy’s long black hair waved in the breeze. “I am going to announce the first camp activity,” he shouted. “It’s a very special activity for all you Lemmes. I call it Catch Your Own Dinner.”
We all leaned forward to hear better. We weren’t sure we’d heard him correctly.
“It’s called Catch Your Own Dinner,” Indy repeated. “You see, the food truck hasn’t arrived, and there’s no food!”
TWELVE
“Rah! Rah! Booyah! That’s the spirit!” Uncle Cousin exclaimed. “Everyone into the woods. A Lemme never says the word starvation!”
We all looked at one another.
“Ricky ticky! Rah! Rah!” Uncle Cousin boomed. “A hunting we will go. We won’t stop until there’s food for almost everyone! Booyah!”
I took a deep breath. I had an empty feeling in my stomach. Mainly because my stomach was empty!
Across the meeting grounds, Peter and Patty Perfect jumped to their feet. “No problem!” Peter declared. “Patty and I are champs at feeding ourselves.”
They darted over to a low tree. “We’ve been studying up on edible tree leaves,” Patty said.
“That’s right,” Peter said. “Tree leaves are one of our favorite food groups. We’ll just make a nice salad.”
They began pulling the leaves off the tree and shoving them into their mouths.
“You can’t be Camp Champ if you don’t know how to feed yourself,” Patty said. Some green leaf juice ran down her chin. She burped. It was a perfect burp, just long enough not to be gross.
Chewing hard, Peter held up a leaf with a big white blob on it. “Bird poop is the perfect salad dressing!” He gobbled it up, but it didn’t seem like he really liked it.
Luke Puke made an ULLLLP sound. He covered his mouth and ran behind the mess hall to puke his guts out.
I thought about Nervous Rex, who was hiding in the cabin. How nervous will Rex get when he finds out we have to hunt for our own dinner?
Junkfood John bumped my shoulder. “Hey, Adam,” he said. “I packed three suitcases of chips and salsa. Think that will be enough?”
“Enough to share?” I said.
He shook his head. “No, enough for me.”
Suddenly, Nasty Nancy jumped to her feet and let out a shrill scream. We all jumped to our feet.
Her eyes were wide with fright, and she pointed to the woods. “Bear!” she screamed. “Look! A bear! There’s a bear in the camp!”
Terrified screams broke out as the creature lumbered toward us.
“Wait, everyone!” I cried, waving my hands above my head. “Hold on. That’s just Rob Slob.”
“He really needs a bath,” Cranky Frankie said.
The meeting was over, and we all headed back to our cabins to get ready for our food hunt in the woods. Wacky Jackie walked up beside me. “Do you know how to set a trap for a hamburger and french fries?” she asked.
Was she joking? I wasn’t so sure.
“I heard there are pizza trees in the woods,” I told her. “When you harvest them, you just have to be careful the cheese doesn’t slide off.”
She nodded. I think she may have believed me.
We split up, and I followed the other guys to Cabin 4.
Nervous Rex came out from under his bunk when we came in. “Is it lunch time?” he asked.
“Not quite,” I said. “We have to go into the woods and find our own lunch. We came back here first to get ready.”
“Hunting for food makes me nervous,” Rex said. “And the woods make m
e nervous. All those trees. What if one of them falls on us?”
“I hate when that happens,” Pat Splat said. “A tree fell on my head last spring, and it almost ruined my day.”
Junkfood John sat on a bunk in the corner. He had a bag of chips tilted over his face and was letting them pour into his open mouth.
“I hear mushrooms are good to eat,” I said.
Nervous Rex gasped. “Well, be careful not to pick any of the poisonous mushrooms,” he said.
Cranky Frankie squinted at him. “Rex,” he said, “how do we know which ones are poisonous?”
“I guess you find out after you eat them,” Rex said.
THIRTEEN
Babbling Brooke here. Yea! I get to continue our story now.
“AHHH-CHOOO!”
Leaky Lindsay sneezed for the tenth time in a row.
“AHHH-CHOOO!”
Make that eleven. Then she used the blanket off her bed as a tissue.
“Are you sure you don’t have a cold?” Nasty Nancy asked her.
“I feel fine,” Lindsay replied, mopping thick globs of snot from her hair. “I think it’s just allergies.”
Nasty Nancy moved to the other side of the cabin. “I’m allergic to you!” she told Lindsay.
The rest of us were excited to be going into the woods to hunt for our dinner. I was so excited, I performed a cheer that I made up on the spot.
“GIVE ME AN F!
“GIVE ME A U!
“GIVE ME A D!
“GIVE ME AN E!
“WHAT DOES THAT SPELL?
“FUDE!
“FUDE, FUDE, FUDE!
“I LIKE TO EAT FUDE!”
I jumped high and smashed my head into one of the wooden cabin rafters. After a few minutes, it only hurt a little bit.
What did hurt was that the other girls just stood and stared at me and didn’t join in my cheer.
“Aren’t you excited about going on the hunt?” I asked. “Going into the wilderness on our own?”
“It’s about as exciting as diaper rash,” Nasty Nancy said.
I didn’t get what she meant.
“Maybe we should start at the lake,” Wacky Jackie said.
Brainy Janey squinted at her. “Why the lake?”
“We could get a big net and see what we can bring up,” Jackie said. “I’m dying for a tuna fish sandwich!”
“I don’t think there are any tuna fish sandwiches in Lake Bleccch,” Handy Sandy said.
Nasty Nancy scowled at Wacky Jackie. “Did anyone ever tell you you’re an awesome brainiac?”
Jackie shook her head. “No,” she said. “No one ever said that to me. But thank you.”
Nancy rolled her eyes. “Wonder why,” she muttered.
Wacky Jackie ignored her. “Maybe we could find fish sticks,” she said. “I love fish sticks.”
“I don’t think so,” Brainy Janey said. “Fish sticks can only be found in saltwater, and this is a freshwater lake.” Janey chuckled. “The funny thing about fish sticks is that they’re not fish and they’re not sticks. They are actually a legume.”
Nasty Nancy shook her head. “That’s so interesting,” she said sarcastically. “Remind me to write home to Mom and Dad and tell them. Oh, right. We don’t have parents.”
Brainy Janey stamped her foot. “Nancy, don’t you ever get tired of being nasty?”
“Me? Nasty?” Nancy replied. “I don’t have a nasty bone in my body. And I’ll smack you if you say I’m nasty!”
“AHHHHH-CHOOO.”
Leaky Lindsay forgot to cover her nose, and for a moment, I thought it was raining inside the cabin.
“Let me show you what I built,” Handy Sandy said. She reached under her bunk and pulled something out. It was a metal contraption, and it looked like a sawblade bent to fit a wide metal ring.
“What’s that?” Wacky Jackie asked. “Your dental retainer?”
“No,” Sandy said. “I built an animal trap.” She held it up in both hands. “See? We hide this on the ground under some leaves. And when an animal comes along—SNAP! We have our dinner.”
“It looks dangerous,” I said. “Are you sure it’s safe?”
“Of course,” Sandy said. “You know how skillful I am. Would I build a trap that isn’t safe?”
I studied the metal contraption. The blade had dozens of pointy teeth and was coiled tightly on the base.
“I’ll show you how to arm the trap,” Handy Sandy said. “Watch this. It’s easy. Even a child could do it.”
She held the base in one hand and pulled the sawblade up in the other.
SNAAAAAAAAAPPPPP!
Handy Sandy let out a shrill howl of pain and did a crazy panic dance, waving her hand in the air with the trap snapped over her arm. “Hellllllp meeeee!”
“I think it needs more work,” Nasty Nancy said.
We helped Sandy remove the trap from her arm. “You might be right,” she said. “I think it needs a little less zing in the spring.”
“Let’s get going, girls!” I cried. “Rah-rah! Booyah! Last one into the woods is a rotten Lemme!”
So we burst out of the cabin into the afternoon sunlight and hurried toward the tangled trees that surrounded the camp.
And did we have a big surprise waiting for us in the woods? I’ll give you three guesses!
FOURTEEN
Sunlight flickered down through the treetops. The ground was covered in a soft blanket of dead leaves from last fall. Our shoes crunched over twigs and tall grass.
I felt so excited to be here in the woods with my friends. Every shimmering leaf and billowy reed waving in the wind made me hope we would have great success on our food hunt.
Brainy Janey led the way, and we followed in a single line. The path was very narrow.
She suddenly stopped and pointed at a row of low shrubs. “Those berries look good enough to eat,” she said.
Wacky Jackie plucked a few of the red berries off the bush and shoved them into her mouth. “Yes. Very sweet,” she said, swallowing loudly.
As berry juice ran down Jackie’s chin, she plucked another handful and swallowed them.
“I believe they are wild mooseberries,” Janey said, examining a few in her hand. “Mooseberries are very rare. In fact, they are extinct. So it’s lucky we found some.”
“About as lucky as diaper rash,” Nasty Nancy said.
What was her problem with diaper rash?
“We need to bring back a lot of these berries,” Brainy Janey said. “Did anyone bring a basket for carrying things?”
Silence. We all shook our heads.
“Did anyone bring a cup or a bowl?” Janey asked.
No. No one.
“Does anyone have a backpack we could put them in?” Janey asked.
We glanced around and looked at one another. No. No backpacks.
“Does anyone have any pockets?” Janey asked.
We all checked our shorts.
No. No pockets.
“We could cup our hands and carry them back,” Wacky Jackie said.
“If our hands are filled with berries, how can we hunt for other food?” Handy Sandy asked.
Wacky Jackie made a loud URRRRRP sound. Her mouth dropped open and she moaned. “Ohhhh. I don’t feel so good.” She gripped her stomach. “Maybe those berries . . .” Her voice trailed off and she URRRRRPED again.
“I knew those berries were bad. Let’s forget the berries,” Brainy Janey said. “We need to find some real food.”
We moved on, following the trail. We had to step over a fallen tree branch, and kick a stack of dead weeds out of our way.
I heard the flutter of birds in the trees above us. And somewhere in the far distance, an animal howled.
We stopped at the edge of a small clearing. “Check that out,” Handy Sandy said, pointing to something in the grass.
We all stepped closer to see what it was.
“It’s a bone,” Sandy said. “Some kind of animal bone.”
She was
right. We studied it in silence.
“This is good,” Sandy said, turning to us. “Because where there’s bones, there’s got to be meat.”
FIFTEEN
I know I get excited easily. But now I was really pumped. We were on the trail of meat! My mouth was watering just thinking about it.
“Chef Indy will think we’re awesome,” I said. “And I know we’ll get points in the Camp Champ competition.”
My heart was pounding as we roamed off the trail. I wanted to burst into song or do a cheer, but that would probably scare the meat away.
We walked in tall weeds for a few minutes—and found another bone.
“We’re going the right way,” Brainy Janey said, and brushed away a buzzing swarm of gnats. “Keep going, girls. This is getting real.”
We walked on.
A few minutes later, we saw a dog.
He was tall and dark brown, lumbering noisily between the trees.
“What is that dog doing way out here?” Wacky Jackie asked.
Brainy Janey raised a finger to her lips. “Shhhh. We don’t want the dog to know we’re following it,” she whispered.
The trees were thick overhead, and there was little sunlight. The dog walked slowly, steadily through the shadows. His head bobbed up and down as he clumped forward. And his paws crunched heavily over twigs and dry leaves.
We followed on tiptoes, trying to be as silent as we could.
Was the dog leading us to our dinner?
My eyes went wide as I saw a tall mound of rocks up ahead. Squinting in the shadowy light, I could see a low cave cut into the rocks. The dog picked up speed as it headed to the cave.
We followed close behind. But then, the dog turned around.
Did it see us?
“Whoa.” Brainy Janey stopped short. Wacky Jackie bumped into her from behind. “What’s up?” Jackie asked. “Why did you stop?”
Janey turned to us. “It . . . it isn’t a dog,” she stammered. “I read a bunch of wildlife guides before we came here. That isn’t a dog.”
“Then what is it?” I demanded.