The Pandora Device (Camp Hawthorne Book 1)

by Joyce McPherson

  Sitting in the remaining chair, he poured himself a bowl of cereal. “Good work, Karen. Hawthorne House is in the lead.” His flat voice held a tinge of energy as he motioned to a poster next to the fireplace. Buckeye was adding a star in the row marked “Thornes.”

  “I don’t get it,” I said.

  “There are five dorms here,” he replied. “All replicas of the houses of Hawthorne and his friends. They helped start our camp—Longfellow, Whittier, Alcott and Twain.”

  Jayden was sitting across from me, and his eyebrows shot up.

  “What?” I said to him. I wondered if he could read minds as well as control objects.

  “They’re authors,” he explained. “Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, John Greenleaf Whittier, Louisa May Alcott and Mark Twain.”

  “Literature is not dead,” Eugene said.

  Ellen put down her orange juice. “Why would they help with camp?”

  “You have to read what they wrote,” he said. “They knew ESP was real, and Hawthorne got them to support his work. Our dorms are named for them as a tribute.”

  Lindsey squinted at the poster. “So we’re called the Thornes, and the others are the Fellows, the Whits, the Alcotts and the Twains?”

  “Well done.” Cecily appeared at our table bearing a platter of pancakes. “I wondered what happened to your runner,” she said. “Y’all eat up now. Buckeye has big plans for you today, and the Thornes need to stay number one.”

  Eugene growled. He was certainly a strange one.

  Chapter Ten

  After breakfast Skeeter was waiting for us at the lake. “Welcome to swim certification, campers—you’re going to get in groups of three and swim to the buoy.”

  I groaned, and unfortunately Ellen heard me. “What’s wrong. Can’t you swim?” she asked.

  I shook my head. “I never learned.”

  “Me neither,” Jayden said. “But it doesn’t look too hard.”

  I watched Skeeter wading out to the buoy and hoped I wouldn’t drown before I reached her. It didn’t look too deep. The boys from Bromley took off in the first group, and the rest of us got in the water to wait our turn. The first shock of cold almost sent me back to the beach, but I gritted my teeth and stood next to Lindsey. I knew she took lessons at the community pool. “Can you teach me real fast?” I asked her.

  She bobbed down into the water. “Try this.” She brought her arms up to her chest and made a scooping motion to the side. I tried making the motion in the air and hoped it wouldn’t be my turn until the sun got hotter.

  Skeeter blew her whistle. “Next group!”

  Another boy splashed forward, and Joanne and her friend joined him, speeding through the water like sharks on attack.

  Karen watched them and bit her lip. “That’s why Joanne calls me Special K. I can’t swim, even with lessons at home. Nothing helps.”

  I stepped in a little deeper. I was getting used to the freezing water. “What happens if you can’t swim?”

  “You have to skip craft class and take swim lessons till you learn or they give up on you.”

  “What do you mean—give up on you?”

  “I flunked three times last year before they gave up and let me get on with craft classes.” Karen shrugged. “Swimming’s not important for most of us. Lots of people with ESP naturally float. See.” She sat back in the water, but she didn’t sink. She just lay on the surface, thrashing her arms.

  The whistle blew, and Lindsey took off with Jayden and Ellen. Ellen shot ahead doing a windmill stroke. Jayden watched her and circled his arms the same way so that the two of them looked like twin engines. Lindsey followed slowly, doing her scooping motion.

  “We should go next,” Karen said. She splashed along on her back. “Get in, see if you float, too.”

  I lowered myself into the lake and felt the icy water flowing around me. It reminded me of the statistics for drowning—lifetime risk: one in nine thousand. I was wondering if I should be worried, when my legs rose up from under me. “I’m floating!”

  “Of course, silly. Now get moving.”

  Rolling onto my front with my head above water, I tried Lindsey’s swim stroke. I didn’t go very fast, but I easily kept pace with Karen as she puttered forward.

  “Swimming isn’t so bad,” I said.

  Karen gave me a funny look. “Prepare yourself. Skeeter might not call this swimming.”

  One of the other girls sped past us and quickly joined the “certified group” standing next to Skeeter.

  “Good job,” Lindsey called when we arrived at last.

  “You’re water-safe,” Skeeter said, “but you’d both benefit from lessons. You two stand on the other side.”

  Karen locked arms with me and stalked away from the certified group. “Come on, Stella. You’d rather hang out with me anyway.”

  More campers joined us on the next round. Karen introduced me to two girls named Annalisa and Destiny and a boy in purple swim trunks called Ivan. “He’s the only one who came from his school,” she explained. “The other teammates got chicken pox at the last minute.”

  “That’s strange,” I said. “Most kids get vaccines for chicken pox when they’re little.”

  Ivan’s ears turned red. “Lots of people in my community don’t believe in vaccines.”

  I would have asked him more, but Skeeter joined us. “Welcome to swim class.”

  While the others had a free swim, she made us float on our stomachs and put our faces in the water to blow bubbles. Then she made us turn our heads to the side to take a breath. I kept choking on the water, and I don’t think Karen ever took a real breath at all. Whenever she wanted to breathe she stood up to inhale and then went back to floating.

  “No, Karen,” yelled Skeeter. “You won’t be able to stand up in the middle of the lake.”

  I looked over at Annalisa and Destiny, who seemed to be getting it. I tried again, and I actually took a breath without gargling water.

  “Good,” Skeeter called out. “Now try kicking your legs.”

  By the end of the lesson, most of us could make windmills with our arms and kick a little. I was pleased with my progress, but Karen wore a sour expression. “You’ll learn to swim and leave me like all the others.”

  “Don’t you want to learn so you won’t miss craft class?” I asked.

  “Huh—it’s not crafts like you’re used to. Craft classes are where we develop our gifts.”

  I kicked my feet, enjoying the new feeling of floating in water. “What’s your gift?”

  “I can move things.”

  “That’s the same as Jayden. What’s class like?”

  “We start small with juggling or archery. Then we progress to tying shoe laces and picking locks.”

  “Picking locks? Isn’t that illegal?”

  “Not if you don’t use it to steal something.”

  “Is that how you made the explosion this morning?”

  Karen hugged herself and started laughing. “It was tremendous—I used every trick they taught us.”

  I wondered why they would teach things like that.

  By the time our swim lesson finished, the CITs appeared, carrying huge boxes which they lined up on the shore.

  Karen waded out of the water. “Hurry up—it’s a picnic lunch.”

  The breeze blew cool across the lake, and I ran for my towel, while Karen grabbed two lunch bags from the box marked “V.”

  “Vegetarian,” she said. “Better than lunch meat.”

  We sat on a log by the fire circle. Though the fire was gone, the memory of last night with the stars and s’mores brought a quivery feeling of belonging. I opened my bag and found a sandwich made from squishy orange stuff between two slices of brown bread. I tried a bit with the tip of my tongue, and it was salty.

  “Pimento cheese,” Karen said.

  I took a small bite. The brown bread was thick and chewy, and the pimento cheese was tangy and smooth. I hadn’t realized how hungry I was, and my sandwich disappeared i
n two minutes flat. Smaller packages contained peanuts, carrots and a brownie, which I was just finishing when the others arrived.

  “The vegetarian ones were gone,” Lindsey moaned.

  “I’ll take the bologna, and you can eat the bread,” Jayden said.

  “Gross,” Ellen squawked, as she opened her sandwich and peeled off the meat.

  Jayden made a triple-stack of bologna on bread and held it up for us to admire, waving it like he was a fancy chef. “Just like Grandma Charlotte makes.”

  Memories of eating bologna sandwiches in his grandmother’s kitchen rolled through my brain. “Super-duper bologna sandwiches” we used to call them. We’d only been at camp two days, but Jayden seemed more like his old self, and I was glad.

  “Listen up, campers.” Buckeye scanned the crowd until he had absolute silence. “Every day we’ll have an activity so the first year campers can find their gifts. We’re beginning with the second annual treasure hunt, and to add a little excitement, you’ll compete as dorms.”

  There were groans from campers. “Not again, Buckeye,” someone wailed.

  “Wasn’t last year enough?” another voice rang out.

  “What happened last year?” I whispered to Karen.

  She just smiled.

  “Healthy competition,” Buckeye said. “You know the drill—everyone help each other so no one gets hurt.”

  “What if we get hurt?” That was Joanne.

  Buckeye ignored her. “This year’s treasure hunt is by canoe.” He held up a bunch of keys dangling from cords. “These beauties will unlock your treasure chest, but don’t be fooled. There are lots of false trails and only a few true ones, so beware.”

  Joanne and her crew looked our way, nudging each other and laughing.

  Buckeye raised his voice over the chatter. “Your mission is to paddle to the island and locate your next packet. Follow the clues until you find your treasure chest, and unlock it with your key. Bring whatever’s inside to me.”

  Eugene appeared out of nowhere. “Newbies are on my team.” He rounded up the boys from Bromley and Ivan in the purple swim trunks. He had tied his T-shirt around his head like a pirate. “Huddle up,” he said, motioning us to come in closer. “They’ve put the new campers from Hawthorne House on team three, which means no one expects us to win. But we’ll show them.”

  “Yeah!” said Ivan.

  “First thing, who knows how to paddle?”

  Freddy, Coop and Garrett raised their hands.

  “Good. You’ll man the front and back positions. I’ll help in the middle.”

  Eugene led us to the beach, where the canoes bobbed at the water’s edge. I hadn’t realized how long they were. They had four benches and one short seat tucked up at the back of the boat. Buckeye was there with his clipboard, handing out paddles.

  Mine had faded red paint like the one my parents held in the photograph. I gripped the handle and imagined my mother had held this same paddle once.

  Jayden stepped toward one of the canoes, but Buckeye waved his hands wildly. “Not till we get everyone in life vests!”

  The orange vest, shaped like a horseshoe, hugged my neck. The straps were still wet from the last person who used it, and they flapped like slimy tendrils against my legs.

  Eugene waded into the water and steadied the canoe. “Get in one by one.”

  Garrett and Coop went first, hunched low and scurrying to the front seat like ninjas. I was impressed.

  “Beginners, next,” Eugene said.

  Lindsey jumped aboard, and the boat lurched back and forth.

  He winced. “Stay low so you don’t capsize the boat.”

  Jayden followed her without disturbing the balance.

  “You go next,” Ivan said, gripping his paddle nervously. “I haven’t figured it out yet.”

  Though I tried to keep low, we would have capsized if Jayden hadn’t leaned to the side. I plopped onto the bench next to Lindsey and turned toward Ivan. “Come on—it’s not so bad.”

  His face as white as the paper on Buckeye’s clipboard, Ivan stepped into the boat and collapsed in the direction of an empty bench. When he realized he was safe, he punched his fist in the air. “I did it!”

  The others came aboard, sitting two to a row with Freddy perched expectantly on the last seat. By now most of the canoes had pulled out ahead of us.

  Ellen raised her hand. “Did Buckeye say this was a competition?”

  For answer, Eugene dug his paddle in the lake. “Time to go,” he barked. “Sweep your paddles like this.” The others followed his directions, and we glided through the water toward the weedy island.

  I was the only person not rowing, and Eugene passed me the key. “Keep this safe,” he muttered—like he was giving me a top-secret mission.

  I hung the key around my neck, then dipped my paddle to match the others. The sun was directly above us, and the warmth on my skin made my arms tingle with pure joy as the boat surged forward. If this was canoeing, I was going to like it.

  After his initial fright, Ivan began to relax and enjoy himself. With his long arms, he plunged his paddle deep in the water, and we shot ahead. “I have a feeling we’re going to win,” he said.

  Just then a droning murmur came from behind us. It was the Fellows’ canoe. They were chanting in unison:

  By the shores of Gitche Gumee,

  By the shining Big-Sea-Water…

  Their paddles swept in time with the words, and sparkles of water dropped from their blades. I stopped paddling to watch.

  Stood the wigwam of Nokomis,

  Daughter of the Moon, Nokomis.

  The canoe cut through the lake as their murmuring hum grew louder.

  Jayden leaned toward me. “That’s from a poem by Longfellow.”

  “Back to paddling,” roared Eugene. I wrenched my eyes from the speeding canoe and tried to get back into sync with the rest of the boat.

  Rose the firs with cones upon them;

  Bright before it beat the water,

  Beat the clear and sunny water,

  Beat the shining Big-Sea-Water.

  The Fellows’ canoe finally disappeared around the edge of the island. I took a deep breath and looked around with new eyes. Shining waters. That was just right. I thought of my parents canoeing on this lake, ringed with fir trees and blue sky. I could drift here forever.

  “Hold up,” Eugene barked. “Time to make our strategy. Stella, read the tag on our key.”

  I jerked out of my thoughts and fumbled for the piece of cardboard. “Thorne Team #3: South harbor, oak tree dead ahead, fifth branch up,” I read.

  “We head for the tip of the island there.” Eugene pointed to the right.

  Freddy, from his place at the back, piped up. “Shouldn’t we have a cool chant like the Fellows so we can keep time?”

  Eugene seemed torn. “Good idea, but we can’t waste time learning one now.”

  “Why don’t you say it for us?” I asked.

  His face reddened. “All right, but you have to give it your all. This one’s by Hawthorne.”

  I didn’t know what to expect, so I was surprised when his voice rang out deep and strong:

  Oh, earthly pomp is but a dream,

  And like a meteor's short-lived gleam;

  He plunged his paddle through the water, and we followed his motion.

  And all the sons of glory soon

  Will rest beneath the mould'ring stone.

  Everyone made their strokes in time with the lines, and our canoe sped forward.

  And Genius is a star whose light

  Is soon to sink in endless night,

  And heavenly beauty's angel form

  Will bend like flower in winter's storm.

  The thrilling words and clash of paddles sent prickles down my arms. We skimmed across the lake, and a few minutes later our canoe ran up onto the beach with a crunching of loose pebbles.

  Everyone cheered, and Eugene jumped from the boat to pull it above the water line. The a
pplause faded when we saw Joanne running toward us. She fluttered a piece of paper in the air as her crew pulled away. “Better luck next time!”

  In the bright sunlight her face seemed to wobble back and forth. I pressed my eyes shut for a moment. When I looked again, the double-vision was gone. I hoped I wasn’t getting sick.

  Eugene planted his paddle in the sand, and the muscle in his jaw tightened. “It’s not over yet,” he said. “South harbor, oak tree dead ahead, fifth branch.”

  Freddy took off with Coop and Garret right behind him, like a pack of beagles on the hunt. “Dead ahead,” he shouted. He reached the tree first and swung himself up into the branches.

  “Nothing here.”

  “Did you start at the right place?” Ellen called.

  Freddy pulled out his compass and squinted back at the beach. “You’re right. The southernmost point is over there.” He swept his arm from the shoreline to a stand of oaks. Garret took off, and Coop followed him. They were soon jumping up and down and pointing to a package hanging from a tree. One after the other, they shinnied up the trunk.

  “Wait,” Freddy shouted. “Something’s wrong.”

  But they didn’t hear him. Garrett scooted out along the branch and pulled the wrapping from the packet. There was a pop, and a cloud of purple ink sprayed him in the face. He teetered and barely saved himself from falling by catching hold of a limb.

  “Safety protocol,” Freddy yelled, sprinting toward them. “Keep your eyes closed.”

  He whipped out his water bottle and passed it up to Coop, who used it to rinse Garrett’s eyes. His face was splotchy with the remnants of purple ink, but he gave us a thumbs-up sign.

  Eugene shook his head. “That must have been one of the false clues.” He peered at Freddy. “How’d you know something was wrong?”

  “I just knew. It was like I could see the packet, and our name wasn’t on it.”

  “Let’s try an experiment,” Eugene said. “There’s a clue around here that’s marked for us. Close your eyes and see if you can find it.”

  Freddy tilted back his head and closed his eyes like some kind of sun-worshipper. The freckles on his face stood out darker and more numerous than ever. Slowly, he turned. “Joanne got the wrong clue—hers is over there.” He rotated a little farther. “And there’s our clue.” He pointed to a tree closer to the shore.