When he had had his fill, Clay watched his fellow campers continuing to gorge on wild pig, their faces lit by the glow of the lava. They looked like members of some lost tribe of cannibals. How many of these people were privy to all the secrets of Earth Ranch, he wondered. Who among them knew the answers to the mysteries that haunted him?
Afraid he was going to throw up, Clay moved away from the smoke and found himself face-to-face with Nurse Cora. She looked at him with concern from beneath her floor-length silver hair. “Are you feeling sick?”
“Huh?” asked Clay.
“Are you feeling sick, Cora asked,” said Buzz, who was standing next to Cora.
“Sick… Cora… asked…” Clay repeated, uncertain why the words sounded so strange to him, as though he’d heard them in a dream.
“Right,” said Buzz. “Are you sick?”
Sick… Cora… asked… Sick… Cora… asked…
“Clay?”
“I’m fine,” said Clay, pushing away from the nurse and his counselor.
“Watch out!” Pablo grabbed Clay’s arm and pointed to a hole in the ground that Clay had been about to step into. Steam rose out of it in a steady stream, a sign of volcanic activity below.
“Thanks,” said Clay, pulling away from him.
Clay felt off balance, and his one cogent thought was that he should sit down. He scanned his surroundings for a good perch, but he was distracted by the sight of Leira, wearing a baseball hat, standing over a lava pit that was below and to the left of Clay. In the light of the lava, her hair, face, and baseball hat looked like shades of the same fiery color, as if he were viewing her through the lens of an infrared camera.
Whether it was due to his dizziness or to the odd angle, Clay found himself reading the name on her hat as ARIEL before he read it as LEIRA. Leira was Ariel backward. Ariel the tree spirit. Ariel, who casts spells on everyone. Ariel from The Tempest.
“Can’t I ever get away from that freakin’ play?” Clay muttered to himself. “Wait a second—”
He stood up straighter. Now he knew why the questions from Cora and Buzz had unnerved him.… What he was hearing in his head wasn’t Sick Cora asked, it was Sycorax—the name of the witch in The Tempest! Hadn’t Leira said Nurse Cora was a witch?
How could he have not seen it earlier? Half the names around him were names from The Tempest. It wasn’t only Mira—Miranda—who had been playing a part; it was Leira and Nurse Cora, too. Who knows, Clay thought wildly, they could all be acting. All the counselors and all the campers. Maybe that was why Flint had been reading The Tempest—the whole camp was performing together in a Shakespeare production!
It was a crazy idea, but was it possible that everyone had been playing a part? For all these weeks? While Clay ate and drank with them, and fought with them and befriended them? That they’d all been acting while he alone had actually been… living?
If so, what was Flint’s part? One of the bad guys, obviously. Maybe Sebastian, the other treacherous brother in the play? Unless Flint was Antonio, the villainous part Clay had played at school?*
Clay was making himself dizzier and dizzier thinking about it.
His head swam with question after question. He figured his best chance of getting his questions answered lay with Leira. But by the time he started walking toward her, she—and her telltale hat—were gone.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-FIVE
ACTORS
As soon as Clay got away from the lava feast, the air became clearer and so did his mind. He told himself to think rationally. What were the chances that an entire camp’s worth of people were secretly putting on a play that only he didn’t know about?
The similarity of the names Leira and Cora to names in The Tempest could easily be coincidental, he reasoned. As for everyone else, it was difficult to determine what roles they might be playing. In most cases, the characters at camp didn’t match Shakespeare’s characters—at least not that he could see. To recast his camp experience as a production of The Tempest, you really had to force it.
By the time he was back on the shore of the lava lake, Clay had fully convinced himself that he had an overactive imagination.
That was when he saw Leira again.
She was standing behind a tree, deep in conversation with somebody whose face was hidden in shadow. Leira put her arm around this other person and whispered in his or her ear. Clay watched, surprised; he couldn’t think of anybody at camp with whom Leira was that close. He felt something a lot like jealousy.
He was about to tap Leira on the shoulder, when the moon rose over the lake and he saw the face of Leira’s companion.
Mira.
Clay stared at her, flabbergasted.
The ghost girl of the library was now wearing shorts and a T-shirt, just like a normal girl of the modern world.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, rushing up to her. “Do you guys know each other?”
“Shh!” Alarmed, Leira put her finger to her lips.
Clay could tell that Mira was surprised to see him, but she recovered quickly.
“What do you mean? How would I know her?” she whispered. “You silly goose!” she added in her typical old-fashioned way.
He looked from one girl to the other. Now that Mira was dressed in contemporary clothes, the resemblance was even more striking. “Wait, you’re sisters, aren’t you?!” said Clay, the implications just beginning to dawn on him. “Admit it, you’re sisters and you’re in it together, this whole thing, whatever it is.”
“Keep your voice down,” said Leira. “How could we be sisters? We’ve never even met before.”
“Then why are you here, Mira, or whatever your real name is?” Clay demanded.
“I came to find you,” said Mira. “Leira was the first person I saw. She said you went to the library. Didn’t you see my message?”
“What message?”
“The SOS. I think… I’m in danger, and I… I need your help.”
“Yeah, sure you do,” said Clay, his anger at the deception growing. “How do you expect me to believe anything either of you says?”
Leira frowned, insulted. “Are you saying we’re liars?”
“Yes, and you can stop now, because I figured it out,” said Clay, his conviction getting stronger by the minute. “I thought I was insane before, but now I know it’s true. I don’t know why, but you guys are playing parts from The Tempest. You, Mira, you’re Miranda, the magician’s daughter. And you, Leira, you’re Ariel, the tree spirit.…”
“What’s The Tempest?” asked Leira.
“It’s a play by William Shakespeare. You’ve heard of him, I hope,” answered Mira haughtily. “As for you, Clay, you must be mad.”
“Oh, come on, you guys, just admit it already,” said Clay, exasperated. “I know you’re sisters. Remember, Leira, when you said you had a bookworm sister? That was obviously Mira. I can’t believe I didn’t see it sooner.”
The girls looked at each other, communicating silently.
“Okay, you’re right,” said Leira quietly. “That was a big mess-up when I said that—man, did Buzz yell at me—but yeah, she is my sister and she is a bookworm.”
“I am so not a bookworm,” said Mira in a voice that suddenly sounded so not at all old-fashioned.
Leira gave her a look.
“Fine, maybe I am, whatever. But we’re both actresses. And that’s the main thing right now.”
“Aspiring actresses,” Leira corrected.
“Well, anyway, acting is what got us into this whole crazy situation,” said Mira.
“What crazy situation? Can someone please tell me what’s going on?” Clay pleaded.
“To be honest, we’re not totally sure,” said Leira.
“We thought Earth Ranch was a theater camp. When we got here, they told us we were doing experimental ‘life theater’ based on The Tempest.”
“ ‘An immersive theater experience,’ they called it,” said Mira.
Leira nodded.
“It seemed really exciting and cool at first, but now it’s getting kind of…”
“Creepy,” said Mira, finishing her sister’s sentence. Leira looked around nervously, making sure nobody was within earshot. “If they find out we talked to you like this, we’ll get in serious, serious trouble. We’re never supposed to break character, especially with you.”
“They call you the ‘unwitting cast member,’ ” said Mira.
“Right,” said Leira. “Or the ‘audience of one.’ ”
“So it’s not just you—everyone here is putting on a play? Just for me? Why?” asked Clay, stunned. Thinking it was one thing; hearing it said aloud was another.
The girls shrugged.
“Actually, we have no idea what they’re doing,” said Mira.
“We think the idea of theater camp was just an excuse to get us to the island,” said Leira. “We don’t think it’s really about The Tempest at all. The play is like a front, a cover-up for something else.”
“You mean that’s what you think,” said Mira.
“You said yourself you were scared,” said Leira.
“I said I was creeped out. Wouldn’t you be if you had to spend all your time in that library with Ben?”
“What does everybody else think?” asked Clay.
“We don’t know—we’re not allowed to talk about anything with anybody,” said Leira. “Not even each other.”
“So you’re not supposed to be here right now?” Clay asked Mira, looking around to make sure they were still unobserved.
Mira shook her head. “At least she gets to have pretend conversations with people.” She pointed to her sister. “I just sit around by myself all day.”
“So if it’s not a play, then what do you guys think is really happening?” asked Clay.
“I think Earth Ranch is like a cult,” said Leira.
“What do you mean a cult?”
“Like some weird religion or something. I’m afraid they’re going to sacrifice my sister, throw her into a volcano—”
“I told her that was totally crazy,” Mira interrupted.
“You saw them tonight,” said Leira. “That lava walk was not normal. Tell her.”
“Oh, come on, nobody’s going to sacrifice anybody,” said Mira. “That doesn’t happen in real life.”
“This isn’t real life—that’s the point,” said Leira.
Clay looked at Mira. “If you don’t think you’re going to be sacrificed, why did you leave that SOS?”
“Actually, that was part of the play—you’re supposed to get all worried about me,” said Mira apologetically. “But it’s true I’ve been freaked. Uncle Ben is completely out of his mind. He doesn’t talk to me all day, like I’m really a ghost. Then he locks me up at night, like he’s afraid I’m going to run off or something—”
“See,” said Leira. “Next thing you know, they’re going to be fattening you up and roasting you like that pig!”
“Thanks for the reassuring words,” said Mira.
“What about just leaving?” asked Clay.
“There’s no way off the island,” said Leira. “Except the plane that Uncle Ben flies.”
“So he is the pilot—I knew it!” said Clay. “That’s why his dog was in the barn.”
“Oh, yeah, he plays two parts. I forgot you didn’t know,” said Mira. “He’s a pretty good actor, actually.”
“Why don’t you ask to stay in your sister’s cabin?” said Clay.
Mira shook her head. “I don’t want to set off any alarms.”
Leira nodded. “We have to investigate more first, find out what’s really going on.”
“But the volcano overnight starts tomorrow,” Clay protested.
“Right, and we have to go on it,” said Leira firmly.
“But that means Mira could be locked up for days!”
“Clay, is that you?” It was Jonah, walking along the lake.
“Uh-oh—I better get out of here,” said Mira, disappearing into the shadows.
Leira followed, slinking away just as Jonah walked up to Clay, his mouth agape.
“Where did that girl come from?” Jonah asked.
“You mean Leira?”
Jonah shook his head. “The other one.”
“Oh, so you admit you saw Mira? You’re not going to pretend I was talking to a ghost?” asked Clay.
“Ghost? Was that the girl from the library?”
“Yeah. But that’s not really where she’s from. As you know.”
“What do you mean? I’ve never seen her before in my life. I’ve never seen a girl like her anywhere,” said Jonah reverently. “I think… I think I’m in love.”
Clay appraised Jonah. He was acting very strangely. “Oh, I get it. You play Ferdinand, right?”
Jonah looked blank. “Huh?”
“In The Tempest, you fall in love with Miranda at first sight,” said Clay. “Although, it does seem a little late in the play for you to be falling for her now…”
“What are you talking about? Who’s Ferdinand?”
“Oh, come on. You even said his line in your sleep. Leira told me everything. You’re better than the guy who played Ferdinand at my school, I’ll give you that.”
His face pale in the moonlight, Jonah grabbed Clay’s arm and squeezed tight. “Just shut up, dude, right now, or you’ll mess things up big-time,” he whispered. “It’s dangerous to talk like that.”
“Please, just tell me what’s going on,” said Clay, thrilled and slightly unnerved that Jonah had finally admitted that something was up. “It’s more than just The Tempest—I know that much.”
Jonah looked around nervously. “Later. After lights-out. Just trust me: It’s better to play along.”
Jonah gave him another warning squeeze, then ran off into the night.
By prearrangement, the Worms met at midnight in the middle of the banana grove, where there was little chance of being overheard.
It was dark under the banana trees, and Clay, who was standing a little apart from the others by choice, could barely see their faces.
“Well, are you going to tell me what’s going on?” he said angrily. “I thought we were friends, and now it turns out you’re all actors?”
“We are your friends!” said Jonah. “We weren’t really acting… much.”
“Seriously, dude. Don’t be mad at us,” said Kwan. “The only part that was a script was the stuff about the ruins.”
Jonah nodded. “That was our main job. To make you wonder about it being haunted or whatever. To get you there.”
“Well, you did a good job on that, all right,” said Clay bitterly.
“It’s not like we felt good about it,” said Pablo. “We didn’t like lying.”
Clay shook his head in disgust. “So that makes it okay?”
“They told us you’d have fun,” said Kwan. “They said you wouldn’t want us to ruin the surprise or whatever.”
“We never thought it would go on so long or get so… weird,” said Jonah.
“What about your personalities?” asked Clay. “Was that from the script? Who even are you guys?”
“No, no, it’s not like that,” said Pablo. “We’re us. I swear.”
“Or like versions of us,” said Kwan.
“What does that mean?” asked Clay.
“Ourselves, but more so, that’s what they told us to be,” said Jonah.
Clay looked at him skeptically. “You’re telling me you really sleepwalk?”
“Uh-huh. I mean, sometimes,” Jonah amended. “Yeah, I was faking it that night to get you to go see the bathroom on fire. I admit that. But that story about my neighbor’s garage—that was true. All the stories about why we got sent to camp are true.”
Clay turned to Pablo. “And you’re really… uh, an anarchist?”
“You know it,” said Pablo. “All my ideas are one hundred percent my own—not that I believe in ownership.”
Clay looked at Kwan. “And you—I know you’re really
a gambler, ’cause I saw what you do with those cards.”
Kwan grinned. “I give myself away, huh?”
Their story was pretty much the same as Leira’s and Mira’s. The only difference was that they weren’t expecting a theater camp—just a run-of-the-mill bad-kid camp. When they arrived at Earth Ranch, they were told they would be doing “performance therapy” based on a Shakespeare play.
Although they didn’t necessarily think the camp was a cult, they agreed with Leira that there was something strange and possibly sinister going on.
“I mean, c’mon, those bees,” said Pablo. “That’s just not right.”
“So they really stung you?” asked Clay.
“Well, no, that was special-effects makeup,” Pablo admitted sheepishly. “Remember when you caught me rubbing my arm? I was taking it off.”
Just then a cloud of vog passed over the moon, and it was momentarily pitch-black in the banana grove. There was a tremendous rustling from the trees, and the Worms collectively held their breath. Had they been found out? But when the moon shone again, they saw a flock of parrots flying out of the trees, banana peels dangling from their beaks.
“Go on, Pablo, tell Clay your theory,” said Kwan after the last of the parrots had flown away.
“Pablo thinks it’s one of those Lord of the Flies/Survivor–type things,” said Jonah.
Clay laughed. “You mean they’re going to let us all kill each other?”
“No, I think they’re going to sell us—to rich guys,” said Pablo earnestly. “So on the overnight they can hunt us down for sport.”
Clay tried to process this. “You have evidence?”
“ ’Course he doesn’t,” said Kwan, laughing. “It’s totally ridiculous.”
“Think about it,” said Pablo. “Who cares about us? We’re the bad kids, remember? Expendable.”
“If they’re just going to kill us, why go through all The Tempest stuff, then?” said Clay. “That’s whacked.”
Kwan and Jonah nodded in agreement. “Totally whacked.”
“Anyway, I gotta admit, you guys are amazing actors,” said Clay, thinking about the elaborate charade that had just ended. “I don’t think anybody else could have pulled this thing off. So props to you for that.”