The Pandora Device (Camp Hawthorne Book 1)

by Joyce McPherson

  Eugene made the boys go more carefully this time. They removed the packet from the branch and handed it to him. It was labeled Thorne Team #3.

  I realized we’d just witnessed something amazing—Freddy had an incredible talent. Eugene clapped him on the back. “You’ve got the gift for reading hidden writing,” he said. He let Freddy open the packet. It contained a hand-drawn map with an X marked on the far shore and the words great rock penciled above it.

  “Cool,” Freddy said.

  “Let’s go,” Eugene growled.

  Chapter Eleven

  We raced back to our canoe. Cecily’s team was just paddling into shore. They were laughing and joking, and two of their members were overboard, hanging onto the side.

  “Hey Eugene,” called Cecily. “Having fun yet?”

  He stiffened. “We got our packet, so we’re looking good. Beware of false clues—they’re using ink bombs this year.”

  “Thanks partner,” she replied, and a few of the kids whooped in appreciation.

  Karen offered me a feeble wave. “We’re the party team,” she said. “Don’t expect us for dinner.”

  The rest of her crew laughed. I wanted to stop and visit, but Eugene jumped in the canoe. “Gotta go,” he barked.

  “Our crew is more like the Marines,” I told Lindsey.

  Ellen jabbed me in the shoulder with her paddle. “Don’t you want to win, Stella?”

  I sighed and gripped my paddle. If I could, I’d let the splashing paddles and sparkling lake take me into a dream world.

  Freddy launched the canoe, and Eugene started up our chant. “Oh, earthly pomp is but a dream, and like a meteor's short-lived gleam.”

  “Faster,” roared Ellen.

  Racing from the island, we made for the gray rock on the far side of the lake. Eugene was so excited that he kept pushing the pace of the chant. Jayden sliced his paddle through the water like a machine, and even Lindsey and I were getting the hang of it.

  The closer we got to the rock, the larger it grew, until I realized it was actually a cave. The canoe glided under the overhanging stone, and the sunlight reflected back from the shallow bottom making the ceiling shimmer.

  “Freddy, any feel for where the next clue is?” Eugene’s voice sounded hollow.

  Freddy closed his eyes. “It seems to be up there, but that doesn’t make sense.”

  “Wait,” Jayden said. “I see something.” He stood and pulled himself up to a shelf that ran along one side of the cave. From there he crawled toward the patch where Freddy was pointing. “There’s moss here, but it’s fake.” A shower of dust fell on those in the front of the canoe, and everyone cheered.

  He tossed the packet to Eugene, who looked at Freddy before opening it.

  “It’s safe,” he said.

  Eugene read the clue aloud. “Thorne Team #3: Find the first tribute-ary. Unlock the chest under the great elm.” He held it up for us to see. “Tributary is spelled funny.”

  “Does this lake have a tributary?” Freddy asked. He paddled backwards to ease us out of the cave.

  I bent all my concentration on the clue, positive I’d heard that word “tribute” somewhere today.

  As we left the cave, a voice from above cried “aha!” The paper tore from Eugene’s grasp and soared above our heads toward the top of the rock, where a brown hand pulled it out of the air.

  “What in the world—” Ellen began, but stopped as the canoe began to shake.

  “Quick,” Eugene shouted. “Paddle everyone!”

  Some of us pulled one way and some the other, and the canoe wobbled crazily. We were going to capsize any minute, and my heart clutched in terror.

  Lindsey didn’t even try to row. She clung to the boat and shrieked with laughter. “Woohoo!” she said over and over, until Eugene fixed her with his dark glare, and she put her paddle back into motion.

  “Pull to the right,” he shouted, and we turned around at last.

  The boat quickly navigated into smooth waters, but my hands were shaking. There seemed to be a tiny step in adventures between fun and scary. I figured the probability of dying from canoe accidents was up there with death by heart attack. I wished I could be like Lindsey and enjoy the moment, but I was too busy fearing we’d drown.

  When we got far enough from the cave, Eugene called a stop. “Listen up, Thornes.” He talked so low we had to lean toward him. “It’s against the rules, but it happens sometimes—a pirate team is trying to sabotage our mission or use our clue, or both.” He paused to let that sink in. “We’ve got to figure out the clue before they do, and use it to our advantage.”

  “Let’s look at the map,” Freddy said.

  Garrett, his face still purple from the ink, spread it out for us. “This might be a tributary here.”

  Coop shook his head. “More like an inlet.”

  Now that we were back in the sunlight, my double vision returned. Garrett seemed to have two purple heads, one slightly behind the other. I closed my eyes and tried to concentrate on the clue. Perhaps the key would help. I pulled on the cord around my neck and held the key in my palm. When I opened my eyes, my vision was normal again. The tag read: Thorne Team #3. It reminded me of what Karen told us at breakfast—how our dormitories were named as a tribute to the people who started the camp. “Tribute!” I shouted. “Remember how it’s spelled strange? It’s talking about Hawthorne House— built in tribute to Hawthorne.”

  “And it was the first,” Eugene said.

  “And there’s a lovely elm tree,” added Lindsey.

  Eugene looked around to make sure no one was listening, which seemed pretty silly since we were in the middle of the lake. “We’re going to convince them we’re looking in that inlet,” he whispered. “Here’s the plan.”

  I wasn’t wild about the plan, mainly because I would have to swim. But, as Lindsey pointed out, I should be fine with the life jacket. We were going to paddle around the island until we were close to shore and hidden from the pirates. Then Lindsey, Ellen and I would swim back and find the real clue. The rest of the team would canoe to the inlet and pretend to search. “We won’t beat the Fellows,” said Eugene, “but we can do everything possible to trick those pirates.”

  While Lindsey swam serenely by my side, Ellen coached my swimming. “Kick with your feet—don’t thrash your arms like that.” By a combination of nagging and demonstration, she got me to the beach. I wanted to flop on the sand for a rest, but Ellen had caught Eugene’s gung-ho spirit. “Faster,” she said, as we hustled up the trail. We even jogged the dirt track to the Junction Stone. I was ready to collapse and send the others ahead when Karen stepped from behind the stone.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked.

  Ellen’s eyes narrowed. “Are you the one who stole our clue?” She didn’t wait for an answer but kept fast-walking toward our dorm.

  Karen jogged after us. “No. Someone took our clue too, and we’ve got off the rest of the afternoon.”

  Ellen kept going.

  “Hey, you’re still following your clue, aren’t you?” Karen ran ahead and planted herself in the path.

  “Of course,” I said. “You should come with us. Your clue might be with ours.”

  Ellen stared daggers at me, but I had a feeling I was right. “More points for the Thornes.”

  Ellen dodged around Karen. “All right, but you have to let us go first.”

  Giving us a considering nod, Karen pulled the cord around her neck. “Cecily was right to give the key to me.”

  At Hawthorne House, we spread out around the base of the elm tree.

  “Nothing here,” Lindsey called.

  I didn’t see anything at first, but then I scraped away some dry leaves and found a plaque sunk in the ground. “Look at this—In tribute to Nathaniel Hawthorne, this tree was planted July 4, 1874.” The earth next to the plaque was still soft. Someone had dug there recently.

  “You need help,” said Karen, motioning with her hand. A shovel floated through the a
ir from a box beside the front door.

  My arms found new energy, and I dug as quickly as I could while Ellen supervised. The shovel hit something hard. “It’s here!” The others joined me in scooping back the dirt. We uncovered a cluster of three boxes, shaped like miniature pirate’s chests with numbers etched in the brass straps.

  “Open box number three,” Ellen said, jigging with impatience. The key fit the lock, and inside lay a pure white rose with a single thorn.

  “I’ll take it to Buckeye right away,” she crowed, before disappearing down the path at a full sprint.

  Lindsey and I sat and watched Karen dig out her box. “You saw our team,” she said. “We weren’t going to win a prize, but then someone levitated our clue right out of Cecily’s hand. It made me mad, especially when the others thought it was a big joke.” A slow smile crept across her face as she slipped the key in the lock. “But there are other ways to win. I put a mud-pulling telekinesis on our clue as it fluttered away. Whoever gets it will be covered in mud the next time you see them.” She opened the lid and took out a blood-red rose. “I’ll just walk this to Buckeye, shall I?”

  I shivered a little as I watched Karen go, and it wasn’t from my wet swimsuit.

  Chapter Twelve

  Half-way through dinner, Joanne and her crew trailed in, covered with mud and bits of leaves. Joanne threw the crumpled clue at me as she passed our table. “If you hadn’t gotten in the way, the Thornes would have made a respectable win,” she hissed.

  I looked up at the score board. Two Thorne canoes came in fifth and sixth, not bad considering the sabotage. The Fellows won, of course. It’s hard to beat the kind of team spirit that has its own paddling chant.

  Mr. Parker called for attention at the end of the meal. “Congratulations to everyone on a well-played treasure hunt.”

  The Fellows clapped and cheered, and Eugene gave the girls at our table a thumbs-up sign.

  Maybe his competitive spirit was contagious, because I felt like I was glowing inside.

  “Just wait for the next competition,” he said. “The Thornes will really shine.”

  Mr. Parker continued. “We have a few announcements. First, the clairvoyant group is inviting everyone to play cards at Longfellow House tonight. Decks of cards will be provided.”

  “Our dorm can go together,” Karen whispered.

  “Second, I want to remind all of you that even if you have a telekinetic at your table, you must accompany your dishes to the wash bins. We can’t have dishes seeming to wash themselves.”

  Someone at Joanne’s table gave a bark of laughter, and Mr. Parker glanced in their direction, but by then everyone was bent over the food.

  “Finally, as you know, our mission here is to train you in the use of your gifts, but we also want to prepare you to return to the regular world. That’s why we recruit you as teams. When you return home, you will help each other use your abilities in a responsible way and keep them hidden as much as possible. Above all, for the safety of everyone here, Camp Hawthorne must be kept a secret. We are trusting you.” His gaze swept the room, and then his face brightened. “And now it is customary to share some words of wisdom from our benefactors, as a kind of tribute.”

  Most of the campers got the double meaning of the last word, and whispers rippled through the room.

  “Tonight I’d like to read a quote from Nathaniel Hawthorne as recorded in The House of Seven Gables.” He cleared his throat and opened a green volume. “Is it a fact—or have I dreamt it—that, by means of electricity, the world of matter has become a great nerve, vibrating thousands of miles in a breathless point of time?'' He stopped and closed the book. “Dinner is dismissed.”

  The boys were reluctant to attend the card party, but Karen convinced everyone to go. She led the way to the Junction Stone, and instead of taking the left path to our dorm, she took the path straight ahead. After seeing the homes of Twain and Hawthorne, I was eager to visit Longfellow House. Except for the canoe chant, I didn’t know anything about him.

  Karen led us around a curve, and I caught sight of the house, glowing in the light of the setting sun. It sat on a velvet green lawn—a vast yellow building with rows of windows framed with black shutters. Four white columns rose across the front and gave the house an air of majesty.

  “Wow, I wonder what it’s like to live there,” I said.

  She snorted. “You have to take turns cutting the grass.”

  We walked up to one of the wide porches that flanked both sides of the house, where Skeeter was placing decks of cards on the tables. “You’re the first to arrive, so go ahead and get started,” she said.

  Karen scooped up cards from a box marked Beginners. “I’ll take care of them.”

  She divided us into groups of four. Freddy, Ellen, Jayden and I ended up at the same table. Karen dealt the cards, which had silly fish printed on them. “Beginners start with Go Fish,” she said.

  I glanced over at Jayden to see if he would balk at playing a baby game, but he was smiling and sorting his cards. He wasn’t even carrying his basketball.

  We took turns asking each other for matches, and Freddy started winning right away. Jayden amused himself by building a house of cards from the matches Freddy collected. When the card house was eight stories high, Karen swooped in and told us Freddy wasn’t a beginner anymore. More campers were arriving, and she transferred him to another table.

  Ellen squinted at the cards. “We can do this. Everyone touch a card and see if you get an idea of what it is.” I almost burst with concentration, but nothing came. Ellen shook her head. “I get an image but it’s too fuzzy.”

  Karen took the empty seat at our table. “You can’t force it,” she said. “Let’s just have some fun.” She brought out a regular deck and taught us how to play spades and then showed Jayden how to deal cards without touching them. Skeeter passed out peanuts and bug juice, and I sat back and listened to the hum of conversation.

  Moths fluttered around the porch lights, while deeper in the yard, lightening bugs flashed. I imagined my parents were at camp. They were just inviting me to play cards, when Jayden broke into my dream.

  “I won,” he said, laying down his last card.

  “Huh,” said Karen, and a peanut flew up and landed on Jayden’s head.

  “This what you want?” he replied lazily, and a cup of bug juice glided through the air to hover over Karen’s shoulder.

  “You wouldn’t dare—” But even as she was speaking, the cup tilted and purple juice trickled out. She spluttered, and the entire bowl of peanuts levitated, ready to dash itself at Jayden’s face.

  Instantly Skeeter was at our table, grabbing the bowl out of the air. “What are you doing?” she demanded. “You think people work hard to run this camp so you can do silly tricks?”

  Karen shrank on herself after Skeeter stormed off. “Sorry Jayden. I forgot to tell you—we have our first craft class in telekinetics tomorrow. And Skeeter’s our teacher.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Everything went wrong the next day from the moment I woke up. To start, Cecily announced a dorm inspection, and Joanne pounced on us and made everyone make their beds before we even got dressed.

  “Bedding should be tight as a drum,” she said with grim satisfaction, as we smoothed our sleeping bags over the mattresses to hide the wrinkles.

  Breakfast was a white mixture Cecily called grits. She suggested I add butter and salt, but it didn’t help.

  After breakfast everyone who’d found their gifts went to classes. The rest of us had swimming in the lake, but I was stuck with the swim lessons again while Lindsey and Ellen got to play Marco Polo with the others. I’d forgotten everything I learned the day before, and I flailed around in the water, alternately kicking my feet or scooping with my hands. It was a relief when Cecily blew the whistle and told us to report to the dining hall for lunch.

  Karen motioned me over to the Thorne table with Cecily and Eugene. “You better eat up,” she said. “The ne
w campers are assigned orientation activities today.”

  “What’s that?” I asked.

  “It depends on the group. The Fellows are mapping old Indian trails, the Whits are snorkeling on the lake, the Alcotts are rock-climbing, and the Twains are exploring a cave.”

  “What are we doing?”

  “Hiking to a dig site and searching for artifacts with me,” Cecily said. She was wearing another Shakespeare T-shirt that read The first thing we do, let’s kill all the lawyers. (Henry VI, Part 2).

  Eugene was teaching a class for older campers, but he urged us to find as much as we could at the dig site. “We’ve got to earn more points for the Thornes,” he said.

  We stopped by Hawthorne House after lunch to pick up hats, sunscreen and water bottles. I slung the canteen from Grandma over my shoulder, hoping the others would be impressed by my genuine military equipment. Then I grabbed my cap and my mother’s bandana and ran down the stairs to meet the others in the camp store.

  Most of the others wore ball caps like mine. The boys from Bromley had red ones with a B monogrammed on them, and Jayden had loaned one of his caps to Ivan. I wondered if Ivan’s community didn’t believe in baseball, either.

  Lindsey had a floppy straw hat, and Ellen had a white hat with flaps. “It’s used in the desert for archeological digs,” she informed us.

  Not to be outdone, I pulled out the bandana. “This is what they used to wear at camp.”

  “Let me see,” Cecily said. “My mother has one just like this—she came to camp, too.”

  She held it up, and a white piece of paper fell out. I reached for the paper but froze at the sight of block printing—the same lettering as my warning letter. Turning away so the others wouldn’t see, I read the words:

  STELLA, IT’S DANGEROUS TO PURSUE INFORMATION ABOUT YOUR PARENTS.