45 - Ghost Camp (7 page)

They must have a tradition of trying to scare new campers at Camp Spirit
Moon, I decided.

And it works. It really has scared Alex and me. It has made us tense. Jumpy.
Ready to leap out of our skins at the slightest noise.

We stepped into the cabin. I clicked the light on.

Elvis, Sam, and Joey were still laughing, still enjoying their joke.

Alex and I have got to get it together, I decided.

We’ve got to shove all the stupid stuff about ghosts out of our heads.

We don’t believe in ghosts, I told myself.

We don’t believe in ghosts. We don’t believe in ghosts.

I repeated that sentence over and over. Like a chant.

Alex and I don’t believe in ghosts. We’ve never believed in ghosts.

Never. Never.

One night later… after a short hike through the woods—I
did
believe in ghosts!

Alex and I took a lot of teasing the next day.

Coming out of the mess hall after breakfast, someone tossed a soccer ball at
me and screamed, “My head! Give me back my head!”

We had instructional swim in the morning. Joey and Sam and some of the other
guys started howling like ghosts. Everyone thought it was a riot.

I saw Lucy hanging out on the shore with some girls from her cabin. The other
girls were laughing at the ghostly howls. Lucy was the only one who didn’t
laugh.

In fact, she had a solemn expression on her face. A thoughtful expression.

Several times, I caught her staring at me.

She’s probably thinking about what a total baby I am, I told myself
unhappily. I’ll bet she feels sorry for me. Because I acted like such a jerk in
front of everyone on the soccer field last night.

After instructional swim, I dried myself off.

Then I wrapped the towel around myself and walked over to Lucy at the little
boat dock.

The other girls had wandered away. Lucy stood in her white shorts and
T-shirt. She had one foot on a plastic canoe, making it bob up and down in the
shallow water.

“Hi,” I said. I suddenly realized I didn’t know what to say.

“Hi,” she replied.

She didn’t smile. Her dark eyes locked on mine.

To my surprise, she turned quickly—and ran off.

“Hey—!” I called. I started to run after her. But stopped when my legs got
tangled in my towel. “Hey—what’s your problem?”

She vanished behind the Arts and Crafts cabin. She never looked back.

I
know
what her problem is, I told myself sadly. She doesn’t want to
be seen talking to a total nutcase. To someone who thinks that a girl’s head can
roll off. And who thinks there are howling ghosts lurking in the woods.

I wrapped the towel around me. Sam and Joey and some other guys were staring
at me from the shore. I could see by the grins on their faces that they had seen
Lucy run away from me.

“Maybe it’s your breath!” Joey teased.

They all fell on the ground, howling.

* * *

After lunch, we had letter-writing time. The counselors made sure we all
stayed in our bunks and wrote letters home to our parents.

It was a camp rule that we had to write home once a week. “So your parents
won’t worry about you,” Uncle Marv announced at lunch. “We want them to know
that you’re having the best summer of your lives—right?”

“Yohhhhhhhhhh, Spirits!” everyone cheered.

I wasn’t exactly having the best summer of my life.

In fact, so far, this was one of the worst.

But I decided not to write that in my letter home.

I climbed up to my top bunk and started to think about my letter to Mom and
Dad.

Please come and get me,
I thought I might write.

Everyone is weird here. Alex and I are both scared out of our wits.

No. No way. I couldn’t write that.

I leaned over the side of the mattress and peered down at my brother. He was
sitting on his bunk, crouched over his letter. I could see him scribbling away.

“What are you writing?” I called down.

“I’m telling them about the Camp Spirit Moon talent show,” he replied. “How
I’m going to be the star. And how I’m going to be in the musical next week.”

“Nice,” I muttered.

I decided I’d tell my parents only good things, too. Why worry them? Why make
them think that I’m losing it?

If Alex isn’t writing about all the weird things, I won’t either, I decided.

I leaned over my sheet of paper and started my letter:

Dear Mom and Dad,

Camp Spirit Moon is a lot more exciting than I ever dreamed….

“Tonight’s after-dinner activity is a night hike,” Uncle Marv announced.

A cheer shook the wooden rafters of the huge mess hall.

“Where are we going to hike?” someone called out.

Uncle Marv grinned. “Deep, deep into the woods.”

Of course, that answer reminded everyone of Uncle Marv’s ghost story. Some
kids cheered. Others laughed.

Alex and I exchanged glances.

But the hike turned out to be fun. A full moon made the woods glow. We
followed a path that curved around the lake.

Everyone seemed in a good mood. We sang the camp song so many times, I almost
learned the words!

About halfway around the lake, two deer stepped out onto the path. A mother
and her doe.

The little one was so cute. It looked just like Bambi.

The two deer stared at us. They turned up their noses, as if to say, “What
are
you
doing in
our
woods?”

Then they calmly loped into the trees.

The path headed through a small, round clearing. As we stepped out of the
trees, the ground appeared to light up. The moonlight poured down so brightly, I
felt as if I could see every bush, every weed, every blade of grass.

It was really awesome.

I started to relax. Sam, Joey, and I walked along singing, making up funny
words to songs we knew. We sang “On Top of Spaghetti” about twenty times—until
kids
begged
us to stop singing it!

Why have I been so crazy? I asked myself.

I’ve made some cool new friends here at Camp Spirit Moon. I’m having an
excellent time.

I felt great until we returned to camp.

The black fog had started to roll in. It greeted us, wrapping its cold, wet
mists around us, darkening the sky, the ground, the whole camp.

“Lights Out in ten minutes,” Uncle Marv announced.

Kids scampered to their cabins.

But two strong arms held me from behind. Held me back.

“Hey—!” I cried out. I felt myself being pulled into the trees.

“Ssshhhhh,” someone whispered in my ear.

I spun around to find Lucy holding onto me. “What are you doing?” I
whispered. “We have to go to our bunks. We have to get ready for—”

“Ssshhhhhh,” she hissed again in my ear.

Her dark eyes searched my face. Were those tears staining her pale cheeks?

Clouds of fog rolled around us.

She loosened her grip on my arms. But her eyes stayed on mine. “Harry, you’ve
got to help me,” she whispered.

I swallowed hard. “Lucy, what’s wrong?”

“I think you know,” she said softly. “It’s all true. What you think. It’s
true.”

I didn’t understand. I stared back at her with my mouth open.

“We’re ghosts, Harry,” Lucy told me. “We’re all ghosts at this camp.”

“But, Lucy—” I started.

“Yes.” She nodded sadly. “Yes. Yes. Yes. I’m a ghost too.”

The trees disappeared behind the fog. The moonlight made Lucy’s eyes sparkle
like dark jewels. But the light faded from her eyes as the fog covered the moon.

I didn’t blink. I didn’t move. I suddenly felt as wooden as the trees hiding
behind the swirling fog.

“You—you’re joking, right?” I stammered. “This is one of those great Camp
Spirit Moon jokes?”

But I knew the answer.

I could read the answer in her dark eyes. In her trembling mouth. In her
pale, pale skin.

“I’m a ghost,” she repeated sadly. “The stories—they’re true, Harry.”

But I don’t believe in ghosts!

That’s what I almost blurted out.

But how could I not believe in ghosts when one stood right in front of me,
staring into my face?

How could I not believe in Lucy?

“I believe you,” I whispered.

She sighed. She turned her face away.

“How did it happen?” I asked.

“Just as Uncle Marv told in the story,” she replied. “We were sitting around
the campfire. All of us. Just like the other night. The fog rolled in. Such a
dark, heavy fog.”

She sighed again. Even in the darkness, I could see the tears glistening in
her eyes.

“When the fog finally floated away,” Lucy continued, “we were all dead. All
ghosts. We’ve been out here ever since. I can’t explain any more. I don’t know
any more.”

“But—when did it happen?” I demanded. “How long… how long have you
been a ghost, Lucy?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve lost track of time. There
is
no time
when you’re a ghost. There’s just one day and then the next. And then the next.
Forever, I guess.”

I stared at her without speaking.

Chill after chill swept down my back. My whole body was shaking. I didn’t
even try to stop it.

I reached out and grabbed her hand.

I guess I wanted to see if she was real or not. One last test to see if she
was pulling a joke.

“Oh!” I dropped her hand as its icy cold shot through me. So cold. Her hand—as cold as the black fog.

“You believe me now?” she asked softly. Once again her dark eyes studied my
face.

I nodded. “I—I believe you,” I stammered. “I believe you, Lucy.”

She didn’t reply.

I could still feel the cold of her hand on my fingers.

“The blue puddles,” I murmured. “The sticky blue puddles on the cabin floor.
Do you know what they are?”

“Yes,” she replied. “Those puddles are drops of protoplasm.”

“Huh? Protoplasm?”

She nodded. “The puddles are made when we materialize. When we make ourselves
visible.”

She twisted her face into a sorrowful frown. “It takes so much strength to
make ourselves visible. So much energy. The protoplasm puddles are made when we
use that energy.”

I didn’t really understand.

But I knew when I stepped in them that the slimy blue puddles were something
strange. Something inhuman.

Traces of ghosts.

“And the things Alex and I saw?” I demanded. “Kids floating above their
bunks? Their eyes glowing like spotlights? Kids stabbing themselves and not
bleeding? Not crying out in pain?”

“Some of the kids tried to scare you,” Lucy confessed. “They only wanted a
little fun, Harry. It isn’t fun being a ghost. Believe me. It isn’t fun spending day after day
after day out here, knowing you aren’t real anymore. Knowing you will never
grow. Knowing you will never change.” She uttered a loud sob from deep in her
chest. “Knowing you will never have a
life
!”

“I—I’m so sorry,” I stammered.

Her expression changed.

Her eyes narrowed. Her mouth twisted into an unpleasant sneer.

I took a step back, suddenly afraid.

“Help me, Harry,” Lucy whispered. “I can’t stand it anymore. You’ve got to
help me get away from here.”

“Get away?” I cried, taking another step back. “How?”

“You’ve got to let me possess your mind,” Lucy insisted. “You’ve got to let
me take over your body!”

“No!” I gasped.

Panic shot through my body. I felt every muscle tense. The blood throbbed at
my temples.

“I need to take over your mind, Harry,” Lucy repeated, stepping toward me.
“Please. Please help me.”

“No!” I uttered again.

I wanted to turn and run. But I couldn’t move.

My legs felt like Jell-O. My whole body shook.

I don’t believe in ghosts.

That thought flashed into my mind.

But it wasn’t true anymore.

I stood at the edge of the woods—staring at Lucy. Staring at Lucy’s ghost.

The fog swept around us.

Again, I tried to run. But my legs wouldn’t cooperate.

“Wh-what do you want to do to me?” I finally choked out. “Why do you have to
take over my mind?”

“It’s my only way to escape,” Lucy replied. Her eyes locked on mine. “My only
way.”

“Why don’t you just run away?” I demanded.

She sighed. “If I try to leave the camp by myself, I’ll disappear. If I try
to leave the others, I’ll fade away. I’ll join the mist, be part of the fog.”

“I—I don’t understand,” I stammered.

I took a step back. The fog seemed to tighten around me, cold and wet.

Lucy stood two feet in front of me. But I could barely see her. She seemed to
shimmer in and out with the fog.

“I need help.” Her voice floated softly. I had to struggle to hear her. “The
only way a ghost can escape is to take over the mind of a living person.”

“But—that’s
impossible
!” I screeched.

What a dumb thing to say, I scolded myself.
Seeing a ghost
is
impossible!
Everything
happening to me is impossible.

But it’s happening.

“I need to possess the mind and body of a living boy or girl,” Lucy
explained. “I need to take over your body, Harry. I need you to take me away
from here.”

“No!” I screamed again. “I can’t! I mean…” My heart thudded so hard, I
could barely speak.

“I can’t let you take over my mind,” I finally managed to say. “If you do
that, I won’t be
me
anymore.”

I started to back away.

I have to get to the cabin, I decided. I have to get Alex. We have to run
away from this camp. As fast as we can.

“Don’t be scared,” Lucy pleaded. She followed me. The fog circled us, as if
holding us inside.