Next to me, George groaned.
Deborah waved. “All right, enjoy your dinner!”
The next two hours went by in a blur. We finished our spaghetti and bused our tables, then helped fold up the tables and roll them to the side of the room. Then we sat down with Cathy, a kind-eyed lady with short, curly gray hair, who brought out two child-size dummies and taught us the basics of child CPR. We practiced with partners—mine was Sam, the baseball-cap-wearing girl who’d greeted us in the driveway, who seemed super nice. Then, as we were all getting worn out, Cathy finally collected the dummies and said that was enough for now—we’d practice again tomorrow. She told us to leave the mess hall and walk toward the lake, where Deborah and Miles would have started the campfire.
We stumbled out of the mess hall and, in the moonlight, found our way past a row of cabins, down a small, steep path, and to a big campfire area that was right on the bank of the lake. Eight big logs surrounded a fire that was ringed by rocks. It was huge and crackly, and behind it, Deborah and Miles sat on one of the logs, smiling.
“We’re so happy you’re all here,” Miles said. “Make yourselves comfortable, please. Your work is done for tonight.”
Once we were all settled around the campfire, Miles pulled out an acoustic guitar and began playing. He asked whether there were any Camp Larksong alums there, and Bess eagerly raised her hand. Looking around the campfire, I counted two others.
“That’s great,” said Miles. “Deborah is an alum too.”
“Five years in a row,” Deborah confirmed. “First as a camper, then a CIT, then a counselor. That’s why we bought and restored this place. I just love it so much.”
Miles fingered a few notes on the guitar, and the alums all made little noises of recognition.
“Who remembers the camp song?” Deborah asked. She began singing in a clear voice:
Friends and nature, sports and fun,
Camp Larksong glitters in the sun,
We come together every year,
Some come from far, some come from near. . . .
Bess began singing along beside me, and soon the others who’d raised their hands to say they were alums joined in. The song was folksy and pretty, and it made me a little sleepy, but I could also see how happy the alums were to sing it.
From the Camp Larksong song, Miles moved on to “Kumbaya,” and then “On Top of Spaghetti,” and then I lost track. We all chimed in singing song after song, as the moon rose high over the lake and the sky got darker and darker.
After the seventh or eighth song, Miles lifted his guitar and stood. “I think that’ll do it for Deborah and me!” he said.
Deborah smiled and stood up too. “We were up at five today getting the camp all ready for you,” she said, a little apologetically. “As long as you keep the noise down, feel free to stay out here for a while and get to know one another. Until the CITs arrive, you’ll all be sleeping in Pine Cabin, which is the long, low one over by the mess hall. You passed it on your way here.”
Everyone said good night, and Deborah and Miles disappeared into the woods.
“So who is everybody again?” asked the dark-haired girl who’d spoken up at dinner. “The last few hours have been such a blur.”
We all reintroduced ourselves. There were eight of us: me; George; Bess; Sam, who was going to be the sports counselor; Bella, the dark-haired girl; Maddie, a willowy redhead; Taylor, a soft-spoken, round girl who said she was the arts and crafts counselor; and Charla, a cheery dark-eyed girl with tiny braids.
We all talked about where we were from, and what had inspired us to come here. Most of the other girls were from closer to the camp. Bella even lived in the same town. “I get to go really far away for my summer vacation,” she said, rolling her eyes. But she explained that she was a Camp Larksong alum (she’d started coming after Bess stopped), and she’d always wanted to come back.
When all the introductions were over, Bella made a big show of checking to make sure she couldn’t see Deborah and Miles, and then turned back to us. “So,” she said in a mischievous voice, “is anyone scared to be here?”
“Why would we be?” I blurted.
Charla looked confused too. “Away from home, you mean?” she asked. “Or out in the woods? I am kind of scared of bears.”
“No,” Bella said, sounding a little impatient, “I mean here. On this site. You know, the old Camp Larksong.”
There was silence for a minute, and then George looked at her skeptically. “Is this about the ‘tragedy’?” she asked. “I heard something happened here, but I couldn’t find out much more than that.”
“Yeah, ‘tragedy,’ that’s one way to put it,” Bella said.
I felt a shiver run up my spine. “What’s another way?” I asked, wishing she’d get to the point.
“Well.” Bella’s eyes widened and her face seemed to come alive. “Five years ago, the last year Camp Larksong was open, they had the Best of All Worlds camp—just like the one we’re here for.”
“Okay,” said Taylor. “So?”
“On the last night,” Bella went on, “they took their tents and sleeping bags and headed out to Hemlock Hill for the campout by the lake—a Camp Larksong tradition.”
“I remember,” said Maddie, who was the third alum. “It was always the most fun night of camp . . . though I barely got any sleep!”
Bella widened her eyes even farther. “Well, this night, something really crazy happened! The rumor is one of the counselors went nuts. . . .” She paused for dramatic effect.
“And did what?” George demanded finally. I could tell Bella’s milking of the story was driving her nuts.
“And she drowned one of her own campers in the lake!” Bella finished. “You guys, this place is legit haunted. Everyone in Potterville knows that. We’re always seeing weird lights in the woods, a wailing sound coming from the lake. . . .”
Taylor looked horrified. “She drowned one of her campers?” she asked. “Yeah, that would make me pretty mad! I would totally haunt this place if someone drowned me.”
Maddie nodded slowly, looking down into her lap. “I heard about this too, from a friend from camp I used to write to,” she said. “I didn’t want to believe it was true. But—”
“We don’t know it’s true,” George cut in. Her voice was as sharp and no-nonsense as ever. I found it kind of comforting. “And to be honest, I kind of doubt it.”
Bella glared at her. “Why do you doubt it?” she asked. “Are you calling me a liar?”
George shook her head. “No, no. I believe you believe it. But . . . guys, drowning someone is murder. I’ve Googled this place a few times. I’m sure some of you have too. Don’t you think, if a murder actually happened here, it would have ended up in the news somewhere?”
“Maybe the camp covered it up,” said Bella.
“Yeah,” Maddie whispered. “I’m sure they wouldn’t have wanted anyone to know.”
Whooooooooooooo! We all jumped as a sudden wailing traveled over the water from the other side of the lake.
“That was an owl,” George said.
But Bess looked unconvinced. She bit her lip. “The camp did close down kind of suddenly,” she said. “I always wondered why. If something like this happened . . .”
George gave her a doubtful look. “Bess, come on.”
“Come on what?” Bella said. “She’s not allowed to believe me either? What is she, your dog?”
Bess scowled at Bella, clearly annoyed. “She’s my cousin,” she said. “She doesn’t tell me what to do. But I am interested in her opinion.” Bess got to her feet. “Look, nobody can prove anything tonight. So that was an interesting story, Bella, but that’s all it is right now—a story.” She yawned and covered her mouth. “I’m really tired, and I think we have to get up at some ungodly hour to make breakfast tomorrow. Anyone else ready to turn in?”
“Me,” George said without hesitation, getting up.
“Me too,” said Sam, slowly getting to her f
eet.
Soon most of the others followed. Bella was the last to stand, and did so reluctantly. I could tell by the look in her eye that she wasn’t pleased by how this conversation had turned out. But why? I wondered. Was she hoping to bond with the others over this ghost tale? I was with George on this one—it was super creepy to think about the camp closing because someone had died here, but Bella’s story sounded far-fetched.
“Let’s go to bed,” I agreed. “I’m sure we have a busy day ahead of us.”
Pine Cabin was basically a rustic pine box. Six metal bunk beds lined the walls, and there was a separate bathroom with a few stall showers and toilets. We laid our sleeping bags out. George and Bess shared one bunk, so I asked Taylor if she wanted to share, and she said yes. We were all sleepy, so we didn’t take long to change into our pj’s, use the bathroom, brush our teeth, and climb into bed.
I had the top bunk. “Good night, guys,” I called as I sleepily burrowed into the pillow I’d brought from home. It smelled of Hannah’s favorite lavender-scented detergent.
“Good night, Nancy,” came seven voices back to me.
I dreamed I had to go to the bathroom, but I was up in a tree, and the bathroom was down on the ground. I had to climb down the thick pine branches to get back to earth, but they were too tangled, and it was too confusing. Meanwhile the pressure was building, and I was getting really worried I wasn’t going to make it! The dream seemed to go on forever until suddenly my eyes popped open and there I was, staring at the ceiling of Pine Cabin, desperately having to pee.
I scrambled down as quickly as I could without stepping on Taylor and ran to use the bathroom.
Hugely relieved, I finished up and was walking back to my bed when I heard it.
WHOOOOOOOO-WOOOOO-HOOOOOOO!
I felt like ice water had been poured into my veins. It was coming from just outside the cabin. It was kind of like the sound that had come across the lake—the “owl” sound, according to George. But this was much louder, and closer.
WOOOOOO-HOOOO-WOOOOOOOO!
“What the heck?” Sam’s confused voice came from one of the bunks to my right, and I turned toward it.
“You hear it too?”
She sat up. “Yeah, I can hear that. I’m pretty sure the whole camp can hear it.”
“It’s loud, right?”
“It sounds like it’s coming from right outside.”
There was a creak from the bunks across the room.
“What is that?” Bess asked.
“I’m not sure,” I said honestly.
Wooooooooooohh . . .
This time the sound was softer, almost pretty. More of a whisper than a wail.
“Should we go outside and check it out?” Sam asked. Now that I could see her face, she looked terribly annoyed.
I glanced out the small window. It was dark outside, but cool blue moonlight shone down on the clearing that surrounded the mess hall. I didn’t see anything unusual. But the thought of going out there was not appealing.
More creaking. Bess got up from her bed and walked over to us. She grabbed a flashlight from her duffel bag. “I think we have to go,” she said.
“Where are you going?” a sleepy voice asked from behind her. George.
“Outside,” Bess said. “To check out—”
Wooooooooo-woooooooo!
There was an abrupt thunk as George jumped down from her bed. “What on earth . . . ,” she muttered.
I got my flashlight too, and so did Sam. As we approached the door, I couldn’t help asking, “Do you think it could be the ghost?”
I was normally much more logical than this. But it was the middle of the night, in a cabin, in the woods.
I was surprised when no one said no right away.
“I don’t want to think about it,” Bess murmured. “We’re going to be here for nine more days.” She was the only one to respond.
We pushed open the heavy wooden door and walked outside.
Woooooooooooooooo!
It was coming from the woods . . . from the path toward the lake.
We crept toward the woods. Closer . . . and closer. My skin felt too tight and my heart beat a jumpy rhythm in my chest.
“How far do we go?” Bess whispered.
“Far enough to figure out what this is,” Sam replied.
It was cooler outside than it had been during the campfire, and an even cooler breeze seemed to come down the path from the lake. I knew it was probably just air cooled from skimming over the lake’s surface, but it felt . . . ghostly.
I couldn’t help wondering what it would feel like to drown. Feeling the air leave your body and knowing you would never take another breath. What if someone was holding you down when you were trying to break free of the surface . . . if someone went crazy and drowned you, like Bella had said? What would it feel like to be held underwater and know you were dying?
“Wooooooooo . . . BOO!”
“AAAAAUUUUUUUUGH!”
I let out an ear-piercing scream as a pale figure jumped out from behind a tree. Bess, George, and Sam were screaming too. But instead of wailing at us some more, or grabbing us with its ghostly hands, the figure abruptly stopped wailing and started cracking up. When I was over my shock, I turned to look at her.
Bella!
“Were you scared?” she asked, a smug look on her face. “Bet you believe my story now, huh?”
“What the heck, Bella!” Sam cried, putting her hands on her hips. “This was all a joke? Do you think this is funny? We have to get up in, like, three hours!”
Bella’s lip twisted. “Chill, guys,” she said, folding her arms and glancing toward the clearing. “It was just a prank! I thought you’d been to camp before.” She looked at Bess.
Bess frowned. “I’ve been to camp before,” she said, “but pranks are usually funny.”
George, who wore a deep frown and had seemed to be thinking something over this whole time, suddenly spoke. “Did you make up that whole dumb story?” she asked. “About the counselor drowning the girl? Was it just the setup to your prank to scare us?”
Bella turned to George, surprised. Then her expression hardened into a cold, steely glare. “I’m not telling,” she said. “I guess you’ll just have to wait and see, hmmm?”
“Well, I’m going to ‘wait and see’ back in bed,” Sam said, turning her flashlight toward the cabin. “This was stupid, and I’m exhausted.”
Sam led the way back to the cabin, and Bess fell into step behind her, then George. After a moment, Bella scowled, shook her head, and followed behind George toward the cabin, folding her arms more tightly around her.
I couldn’t help but glance one more time down the path that led to the lake. Another chilly breeze blew, sending a chill up my spine.
I wasn’t totally sure Bella had made up the story. But I wasn’t so sure I wanted to wait to find out, either.
CHAPTER THREE
A Shadowy Surprise
I WASN’T SURE WHETHER IT was because of Bella’s prank, but the next morning I felt tired and out of sorts. It was still a little chilly outside, and the shorts and T-shirt I’d packed did little to keep me warm. Sam encouraged me to tough it out, because it would be warming up later. But I couldn’t help wishing I was back in bed—at home.
Things only got worse when Deborah announced our morning activity. “Swimming tests!” she said enthusiastically at breakfast. “These are very important to judge your comfort level in the water, and how much supervision your campers will need while they’re at the lake.”
Normally I enjoyed swimming—but I was very much a “splash around in the shallow end” kind of girl, and nowhere near lifeguard level. I knew how to swim, but I wasn’t great at it. I couldn’t hold my breath very long. And I tired out easily.
After breakfast, we all went back to Pine Cabin and put on our bathing suits. Mine was a simple green one-piece I’d had for eons. I pulled on a hooded sweatshirt as a cover-up, but I knew it was only a temporary comfort—I??
?d soon be plunged in the cool lake.
As we were about to leave the cabin, Taylor suddenly let out a moan. She clutched her stomach and went running for the bathroom, and after a few seconds we could hear retching.
“Uh-oh,” said Sam, wide-eyed.
“I’ll go check on her,” said Bess, and she disappeared into the bathroom.
A few minutes later we heard the water running, and then Taylor stepped out of the bathroom, supported by Bess. “I’m really sorry, guys,” she said, looking pale. “I think breakfast didn’t agree with me.”
“You’d better stay here,” Maddie said, gesturing to Taylor’s bunk. “Lie down. We’ll explain to Deborah and Miles.”
“Thanks,” Taylor murmured, diving into her sleeping bag.
After saying our good-byes and get wells, the rest of us headed to the lake. I was still shivering.
“You know, it’s okay if you’re not a great swimmer,” Bess said as we were walking down the same path where Bella had pranked us the night before. “The camp has lifeguards. So, you know, no pressure.”
I knew that was meant to comfort me.
Bella had barely spoken that morning, saying the minimum she had to in order to seem polite—pass the muffins, thank you, oh, I’m fine, thanks. Whether she was still miffed by the way we’d reacted, or whether she just sensed she needed to tone it down and give us all a break from her, I couldn’t quite tell.
When we got to the lake, it was the brilliant robin’s-egg blue of the morning sky. I poked my toe into the water and shivered—it was also a good ten degrees colder than the morning air.
“Don’t worry,” Sam whispered when she saw me cringe, “you’ll get used to it.”
I knew she was right, but I’d still have to get out of the lake at some point. And then I’d be freezing!
“All right, girls,” Deborah said, stepping onto a short wooden pier that stretched into the lake. She was wearing a red, white, and blue striped one-piece. “For the basic swimming test, we’ll have you jump off the edge of this pier, swim out to the float, move about three yards away and tread water for two minutes, then swim back. This all must be completed in five minutes. Any counselor who passes this test will get their blue swimming badge, which allows you to swim in the lake as long as there’s a lifeguard present. If anyone would like to take the lifeguard test, that wins you a red swimming badge, and you’ll be allowed to swim in the lake unsupervised. Is anyone interested?”