by Tara Ellis
The silence in the cabin is heavy after Ms. Cooper leaves, and Sam and Ally stand there, looking at each other in disbelief.
“Come on,” Butterfingers finally says. “Let’s get this cleaned up, and I’ll walk with you to the nurse.”
Solemnly, they go about gathering up all of their belongings. A few items are ruined, but nothing worse than a sock and a hairbrush. Running her finger over the bite-marks on the handle, Sam turns towards their counselor.
“I really didn’t…” she begins, but Butterfingers raises a hand, stopping her. Frustrated, Sam looks instead to Lexie.
“I don’t know how the food got there,” Lexie states, “and I don’t care. I just don’t want to be dragged into all of this trouble. I can’t go home,” she says desperately. “Do you understand, Sam? I can’t!”
Feeling horrible in spite of not being responsible, Sam simply nods.
Becky rushes forward and hugs her tightly. “I believe you,” she whispers close to her ear.
Hugging her back, Sam is thankful for the support.
“Oh!” Butterfingers exclaims, addressing Becky. “I almost forgot. The archery program has been cancelled for tomorrow. You’ll have to choose one of the other activities.”
“Cancelled?” Ally asks, grateful for the distraction. “Why?”
“They didn’t say,” Butterfingers answers, somewhat irritated. “Just that it was due to unexpected circumstances.”
“The only activities that don’t require me passing the swim test are the little kid stuff!” Becky says miserably.
“Oh no,” Sam groans, as it dawns on her that they won’t be able to go to the open swim session. “Ally and I can’t teach you how to swim now!”
“That’s okay,” Lexie says, turning to Becky. “I can do it in no time. You’ll pass that test today, and then you can go on the creek walk with us tomorrow!”
“Well, I have to know what you’re going to do by dinner time,” Butterfingers says, motioning to Sam and Ally. “We need to go. Let’s get this over with.”
Heads hung low, Ally links arms with Sam before following. But as Sam reaches the screen door, something else occurs to her. Moaning, she turns back. “I dropped the bark!” she admits. “After all of that, we don’t even have the base for the barge.”
“We’ll find another one,” Becky offers, when Sandy and Lexie remain silent. But she doesn’t sound very confident.
Even more discouraged now, Sam is pulled down the trail by Ally, who is trying to keep up with Butterfingers’ brisk pace. The counselor appears eager to get rid of them. Sam can’t really blame her.
Approaching the nurse’s cabin, located in between Ms. Cooper’s office and the commissary, they overhear a loud conversation coming from inside.
“What do you mean, possibly rabid?” someone asks, the voice gravely. Sam assumes the voice belongs to the dark-haired, middle-aged woman Lexie pointed out yesterday as the camp nurse.
“That’s not what I said,” Ms. Cooper corrects. “It’s just that these raccoons have been getting much more aggressive and bolder. I think it would be smart to check locally and make sure there haven’t been any cases.”
“If word got out that we might have rabid raccoons at camp, Whispering Pines attendance would decline even more!”
Looking thoroughly embarrassed, Butterfingers rushes to knock on the solid front door, causing the exchange inside to be abruptly cut off. Ms. Cooper yanks the door open and walks past them without a word.
“You’ll have to excuse my sister,” the nurse apologizes when they walk in. According to the nameplate on the desk just inside the door, Nurse Angela Pine is indeed another one of the camp founder’s daughters.
“You must be Sam,” she says politely, turning and reaching for her arm. After a quick exam, Nurse Pine determines that all she needs is some antibiotic ointment and a bandage.
Once Sam is patched up and cleared to leave, they make their way to the back entrance of the kitchen, where Cowboy hands them two sack lunches. Obviously, he’s expecting them and he eyes Sam questioningly. Humiliated, she avoids his stare, feeling like she’s somehow let the older man down.
Each holding their small paper bags, Sam and Ally continue to follow Butterfingers in silence, heading now in the direction of the pool. Halfway there, they veer off the well-worn trail and onto a less used one. No more than twenty feet back, they arrive at a small hut. Sam remembers spotting it that morning on their way to polar-bearing. She had figured it was a storage shed and she’s not far off from the truth. It’s only big enough to hold one bunk bed and a card table with two chairs. Even then, it’s extremely crowded.
Butterfingers simply holds the door open. “I’ll send for you at dinner time. You’ll get your food after everyone else, and bring it back here to eat. If you need a bathroom, use the one at the pool. But if you’re seen doing anything other than that, or speaking with anyone, it’s an automatic expulsion. Do you understand?”
When they both nod yes, Butterfingers turns to leave, but hesitates. Looking back, she has a mixed expression of anger and sorrow. It’s obvious that she wants to say something else, but then seems to make up her mind and closes the door firmly behind her.
“Well, this is a mess.” Ally is the first one to break the silence. Sitting down heavily in one of the chairs, she pulls her feet up under her.
“I just don’t get it, Ally,” Sam complains, sitting down at the little table across from her. “Who would have put that food in our bags, and why?”
Elbows propped on her knees, Ally interlaces her fingers and then rests her chin on them. “I’ve been thinking about that. Maybe it was meant as a harmless prank?”
“Maybe,” Sam agrees. “Do you think that might be the real reason that Sandy stayed behind this morning? She was the last one in the cabin, and she doesn’t seem to like us very much.”
“I’d hate to think so,” Ally says slowly, “but she was awfully quiet after it all happened.”
“I guess it doesn’t really matter now,” Sam decides, picking up a deck of cards from the table. “Ms. Cooper has it out for me and she isn’t going to believe anything I say.”
“I just hope she doesn’t share this with our parents on Friday,” Ally responds. At the end of camp on Friday night, the parents are invited to join them for the final goodbyes. Sam and Ally’s moms have planned to come together and pick the girls up.
Sam has started dealing the cards for a game of War, but now pauses, closing her eyes. Plopping her forehead down on the table, she groans loudly. “Did you have to remind me? We’d never hear the end of it!” Looking back up, a card falls from where it stuck to her face.
Ally starts laughing, unable to stop herself, and, since the only other option is to cry, Sam joins her. Before long, both girls are sitting on the wooden floor, holding their sides from laughing so hard, the cards spread around them.
An hour later, they’re into their fourth card game when the voices of dozens of campers walking down the nearby trail interrupt them. Going to the only window, they both peer out, watching for their friends on the way to the pool. They aren’t able to get a clear view, though. Frustrated, they go back to their only form of entertainment.
After what seems like an eternity and countless games of charades, cards, and a number of other made-up activities, there is finally a knock at the door. Jumping at the sound, Sam answers it eagerly and finds a girl close to her own age standing there.
“Butterfingers sent me. You can go get your dinner now,” she says quietly, looking past Sam and into the cabin with curiosity.
“Thank you!” Ally answers happily, already pulling her tennis shoes on. Before they have a chance to say anything further, the girl spins around and jogs back up the trail. She was probably instructed not to talk to them.
They’ve been in isolation for seven hours and they’re both impatient to go the short distance to the lodge, to be back around other people. As they step into the kitchen however, it’s apparent
that Cowboy isn’t pleased.
“So, as if the freezer running out of refrigerant weren’t bad enough, you’re telling me that my staff doesn’t know how to do basic math and convert the recipes adequately?” Cowboy is lecturing a younger man, who is doing his best to look anywhere but at his boss.
Hearing the door close behind the girls, Cowboy looks up abruptly. “Sam,” he says with some annoyance. “If you’re here for dinner, you’re too late. You and twenty other campers don’t get a full meal tonight, thanks to our poor planning. Take what you want of what’s left,” he adds a bit more gently, gesturing to the back counter.
Sam sees some rice, rolls, and green beans that remain in the trays brought from the buffet table. Not wanting to get into the middle of the kitchen discussion, Sam and Ally grab a couple of plates and quickly fill them up. Mumbling thank you, they hurry outside.
Keeping to the shadows behind the lodge, they head back towards the trail, trying to avoid running into anyone. They haven’t quite turned the corner, when a commotion from over near the bathrooms draws their attention.
“Eewww!” someone is saying loudly. “Why would anyone plug all the toilets up on purpose?” There’s a large crowd gathered outside, and they’re all talking excitedly to each other.
“I don’t know,” another girl answers, “but there’s been a lot of stupid stuff happening. My friend came here earlier this summer and said the same thing. It’s not as fun as it used to be. I don’t think I’m going to come back next year.”
Ms. Cooper strides angrily into the middle of the group then, on her way to the bathrooms with a plunger, effectively breaking up the crowd.
Sam and Ally jog as fast as they can back to the isolation cabin, managing not to spill all of their food. Once inside, they sit down at the table, relieved to have made it without incident.
“I’m beginning to understand why the camp is losing money,” Ally says matter-of-factly, eating her cold rice.
“It’s too bad,” Sam replies. Poking at the congealed butter on the green beans, her appetite has faded. “Lexie and a lot of the other regulars would be really sad if it closed down.”
“Maybe we should just let the whole raccoon thing go,” Ally says softly. “You know…not make things any worse. If it was Sandy, I’m sure she already feels bad.”
“I was thinking the same thing,” Sam says without hesitation. “We’ll be gone all day tomorrow for the creek walk and then two days for the horseback ride. Who cares about crabby Ms. Cooper anyway, right? We know the truth, and we’ve made some great friends. I think that’s what Mr. Pine wanted Whispering Pines to be about: finding good friends.”
Smiling again, Sam and Ally finish their food, determined to make the best of things. “What about Bigfoot?” Ally adds as an afterthought, pushing her empty plate away.
“Well…that’s different,” Sam says mischievously.
12
CREEK WALKING
Hours later, Sam is tucked away in bed, back at Cabin Navaho. The rest of the night passed surprisingly fast, although they were still relieved when Lexie came to get them.
Becky was the first to break the awkward silence after they returned, excited to tell them that she had passed the swim test. Her happiness was contagious, and by the time they all climbed into bed, the only thing on their minds was the daylong hike they were leaving for in the morning.
Butterfingers’ light, rhythmic snoring is just loud enough to keep Sam awake. She’s considering whether to throw a pillow at her when someone whispers her name.
“Sam.” There it is again. Turning over onto her stomach, Sam looks out into the dark room. She knows it isn’t coming from beneath her.
“Who is it?” she whispers back, still searching the shadows for movement.
“It’s me, dummy,” Lexie says in a more normal voice, waving her hands out in front of her. Both of them are on the top bunks, so that their heads are only a few feet apart. Now that Sam’s eyes have adjusted and she knows where to look, she can easily see the outline of her friend.
“Oh!” Sam answers, waving back. “What’s up?”
Butterfingers’ snoring pauses at the louder voices, but then continues, reassuring them that she’s still asleep.
“I have something for you,” Lexie says mysteriously, holding out her hand. Sam reaches across the gap and is surprised when she feels something hairy.
Pulling the item back, she studies it as best she can in the dark. It’s two inches square, with course hair on one side and a smooth, solid backing on the other. “What in the world is this?” she asks, thoroughly confused.
“Before I went to get you at the cabin tonight, I took a little detour and went back to where you dropped the bark,” Lexie confesses, lowering her voice again.
“You did what?” Sam gasps. “In the dark? Are you crazy?”
“Maybe…a little,” Lexie laughs quietly. “It’s not that far from the isolation cabin. It only took me ten minutes. Anyway,” she continues, “when I was searching around the fallen log with my flashlight for the piece you dropped, I found that stuck on a broken branch.”
It takes a minute for the implication to dawn on Sam, but when it does, she drops the hairy thing in disgust. “Oh my gosh! Is that a piece of Bigfoot’s skin?” Noticing that she’s let it fall onto her pillow, Sam quickly picks it back up gingerly with the very tips of her fingers. “That’s gross!”
“Calm down,” Lexie urges. “If you were looking at that in the light, you’d understand why I don’t think it has anything to do with Bigfoot.”
“What do you mean?” Sam asks, more curious now than repulsed.
“The skin is cured, Sam. Like a pelt. I think it’s probably from something made out of deer skin.”
Sam is a little embarrassed now, realizing that the skin side is definitely too soft and pliable to be fresh. It reminds her of the little purses and shoes at gift shops made of rabbit or deer.
“Wait,” she says with a jolt. “This means that whatever was out there was wearing something made out of deer skin?”
“Yup!” Lexie confirms, and Sam can see her silhouette nodding enthusiastically. “Sam, I think that someone is pretending to be Bigfoot!”
“But why would anyone do that?” Thoroughly confused now, Sam taps thoughtfully at her chin. “Do you think we should tell someone?”
“Tell them what?” Lexie counters. “Normally, being just a few feet outside the boundary wouldn’t be a big deal, but with as much trouble as you’ve been in already…no. I don’t think we should say anything. Besides, I think that whoever is doing this would love it if we told everyone. So let’s not give him what he wants. Okay?”
Running her fingers over the deer hide, Sam considers their options. Lexie might be right. The most likely thing to happen is that they’d get in trouble for going where they shouldn’t have. She and Ally could even be sent home. Then the Bigfoot rumors would just spread even more, hurting the camp’s already suffering reputation. It’s probably best to keep this to themselves.
“Okay,” Sam finally agrees. “We won’t say anything about this.” Reaching out, she tries to give the clue back to Lexie.
“No, keep it,” she insists. “You’re more interested in it than I am.”
Sam tucks it away under her pillow. As her eyes finally close and she drifts off to sleep, she’s certain her dreams will be full of large, hairy creatures chasing her through the woods.
***
Sam doesn’t have a chance to show the clue to Ally until later the next morning. While she doesn’t remember dreaming about Bigfoot, she did dream about being lost in the woods, reinforcing a fear of the thick woods surrounding them now. Trying to shed the remnants of the nightmare, she walks alongside her best friend.
Pulling the small patch of skin and hair from her back pocket, she hands it to Ally. In hushed tones, she tells her what it is. They’ve been hiking for over an hour already, and they’re all spread out along the trail. No one else can overhear
them.
Shocked, but also excited by the mystery, Ally gives it back after studying it closely. “I agree, we can’t tell anyone right now,” she says, nodding. “They probably wouldn’t even believe us. But what can we do about it?”
Shrugging, Sam stuffs it back in her pocket. “For now, just keep an eye out for other clues. Lexie and I talked more this morning. She’s going to let Sandy and Becky in on it, so all of us will be looking.”
“Do you think it’s smart to tell Sandy?” Ally questions, looking back down the trail to where Lexie and Becky are walking together.
“Well, she was out there too, and Sandy doesn’t seem like the type that would tell on herself.”
Grinning, Ally can’t argue with such a valid point. Squinting against the bright sunshine beating down on them, they fall silent again while concentrating on the uphill terrain.
As the day progresses, the long line of hikers tread deep into the Cascade Mountains. Sam has never been this far into these woods. The changing scenery is so grand that it’s hard to compare it to anything else.
Just before lunchtime, the path suddenly drops over a ridge and down into a sharp ravine. As they carefully make the descent, Sam gazes at the distant tree line above them, and notices a large area of dead or dying trees. She points it out to Lexie, who doesn’t seem too bothered by it.
“Probably beetles or something,” Lexie suggests. “They can cause all sorts of problems.”
When they finally reach the bottom of the ravine, a cool mountain creek greets them. Everyone is eager to get wet.
“Well come on!” their guide shouts, laughing. “This is why this activity is called ‘creek walking.’ Jump in!”
Laughing, the Cabin Navaho members are the first to splash into the clear, shallow water. After the remaining fifty or so girls follow, the group continues along the creek, the part of the hike that gave the activity its name.
After more than an hour of a challenging course of slippery rocks, fallen trees and even a couple of small waterfalls, they finally reach their destination. Coming around a particularly sharp bend, Sam stops abruptly, causing Ally and Becky to crash into her.