Camp Nowhere (3 page)

After lights-out, Marty, David, and I were lying in our bunks, still talking about Forbidden Falls.

Silvery light from a pale half-moon washed in through the cabin window. The gusting wind made the flimsy cabin walls creak and groan.

Ramos shared the cabin with us. But he was hanging out with the other counselors at the main lodge.

I pulled my wool blanket up to my chin. I was sleeping in my clothes, but it didn’t help much. This was the coldest night of the summer.

“I know this kid who is friends with a guy who knew one of the boys who disappeared,” Marty was saying.

“But that’s impossible. Those kids disappeared years ago,” I protested.

“They weren’t the only ones,” Marty replied. “A lot of kids who tried the falls have disappeared.”

“Says who?” I demanded.

“Says this kid I know,” Marty insisted. “He told me that five kids disappeared just a few years ago. They went out in two canoes, and they never came back.”

“Just a few years ago? No way!” I muttered.

“Did this kid you know go to camp here?” David asked.

“No. But he knew a kid who did,” Marty answered. “It was his cousin, I think. And the cousin said the camp had to close down for a while. Because the kids disappeared.”

I laughed. “That’s crazy,” I said. “Forbidden Falls can’t be that bad. It can’t be. Or they wouldn’t let us go there.”

“Ramos told me it’s the rocks that are the killers,” David said. “You go straight down the falls. Then you run into these pointy rocks sticking up from the water. If you hit one…” His voice trailed off.

“He was just trying to scare you,” I said.

“Maybe. Maybe not,” David replied. It was the first time all summer that I’d heard him sound serious. “A kid from my school was a senior counselor here three summers ago. He went on the canoe trip to the falls—”

“And did he come back?” I asked.

“Yeah, he came back,” David said. “But he said it was the most terrifying thing he ever did in his life. He said he still dreams about it.”

“Wow,” I murmured.

“Uh-oh. Now Russell is going to have nightmares!” Marty teased.

“Nightmares about
what?
” a voice called.

The cabin door slammed behind Ramos. “Why are you guys still awake? Who is going to have nightmares?”

“Russell is,” Marty answered, sitting up in his bunk. He tossed his pillow across the cabin at me. “Because we’ve been talking about Forbidden Falls.”

“Guess you guys are a little stressed about it,” Ramos said. He grabbed Marty’s pillow and tossed it back to him. Then he dropped down onto his own bed.

“Marty told us that some kids disappeared at the falls just a few years ago,” David said. “Is that true?”

“And David knows a guy who went over the falls and said it was the most terrifying day of his life,” I added.

Ramos shook his head. “What’s your problem, guys? Why do you listen to that stuff? You don’t believe those wild stories—do you?”

“Well? Should we believe them?” I asked.

“It’s a piece of cake, guys,” Ramos said. “The falls, I mean. You want to know the truth about the falls? It’s a piece of cake.”

All three of us stared at him. He didn’t crack a smile. He almost never did. It was impossible to tell when Ramos was telling the truth and when he wasn’t.

“And I’ll tell you what,” Ramos said, jumping to
his feet. “If any of you are really scared, you don’t have to go.”

David and Marty both turned and stared at me.

“Give me a break,” I said. “Don’t look at me. I’m not the one who is scared.”

Ramos started across the cabin. “Later, guys. Don’t wait up.”

The door slammed behind him. I could hear his heavy footsteps as he trotted down the hill.

“He was lying,” Marty said, settling into his bed. “He was definitely lying.”

“The falls isn’t a piece of cake,” David said. “No way. He just doesn’t want us to know the truth.”

“Well…” I whispered, my stomach suddenly feeling a little fluttery. “We’ll soon find out….”

A few days later, in the early morning, Ramos and another counselor, Corey, led the five of us senior campers to the river. It was a short hike through the woods that surrounded the camp.

Bright yellow sunlight shimmered down through the tall trees. Insects chirped all around us. We walked single file along the narrow dirt path that led to the riverbank. The woods smelled fresh and clean.

“This is your one and only practice session,” Ramos said when we arrived on the shore. “So take it seriously.”

He stared at David when he said that. He knew it was hard to get David to take
anything
seriously!

Corey unwrapped a pile of blue life jackets. “Try these on,” he said, handing them out. “You have to get familiar with these. Find one that fits snugly.”

I took a life jacket off the pile. It was heavier than I remembered. It was made of some kind of rubber with a dozen straps all over it.

It took me a while to figure out the top from the bottom. Then I slid my arms through the holes, and Charlotte started to help me deal with the straps and buckles.

“Whoa. Check this out!” David called. I spun around.

He had his life jacket on backward. “It’s a straitjacket!” he declared.

“You
need
a straitjacket!” Ramos sneered.

“We all need straitjackets for going on this trip,” David joked.

“Give me a break, guys. No more jokes,” Ramos ordered. “These jackets could save your lives.”

He helped David turn his life jacket around. Corey inspected the rest of us. I had buckled my straps in all the wrong places. I had to unsnap them all and start over again.

I heard shouts in the distance. The cheers of kids playing softball back at camp.

I wish I were back there with them, I thought. I didn’t tell anyone. But the trip to the falls
was
giving me nightmares—every night.

“This thing weighs a ton,” Erin complained. “I’ll sink!”

“Maybe you should go on a diet,” David said.

“Maybe you should shut up!” Erin snapped.

“Guys! Guys!” Ramos pleaded. “Let’s climb into the canoes. We need to practice paddling together and several other things.”

“How can we paddle in these heavy jackets?” Marty asked.

“That’s why we are having this practice session,” Ramos replied. “So you can learn how.”

Two aluminum canoes rested on the shore. They glowed under the bright afternoon sunlight.

We stepped up to the canoes. “Wow. They’re brand-new,” I muttered. “How come we get brand-new canoes?” I asked Ramos.

Ramos mopped the sweat off his forehead with one hand. “We had to buy new ones,” he said. “The canoes from last year’s trip were totaled.”

“Hey!” Corey shouted. He grabbed Ramos by the arm and pulled him aside. “What’s wrong with you, man?” he asked. “You weren’t supposed to tell them that. Remember?”

Ramos shrugged. “They should know the truth,” he said. “I’m not going to lie to them.”

Both talking at once, the two counselors moved back toward the woods. I couldn’t hear what they were saying. But they kept shaking their heads and gesturing angrily with their hands. We could tell they were arguing.

I turned and gazed at the two shiny canoes. They looked so small and flimsy. Could they really take us safely down Forbidden Falls?

Charlotte stepped up next to me. I could see the fear in her eyes. “I guess the senior campers last year didn’t do so well,” she said softly.

“We’ll bring these canoes back without a dent,” I said. I was trying to sound like a hero—but my voice cracked.

The rest of the practice went okay. We took the canoes out onto the river and practiced paddling together. The river was flat and calm here. But with three in a canoe, we could get them moving pretty fast.

We returned to camp in time for afternoon swim. I was hot and sweaty. The lake looked really inviting to me.

I hurried up the hill to my cabin to get changed. I pushed open the door and stepped inside. Marty and David had to help put the canoes away. So I was the only one there.

I tugged off my T-shirt and tossed it onto my bed. It landed on top of a white square. A sheet of paper?

Yes. I picked it up. A note someone had left me. Written in bold red ink.

I held it close and struggled to read the scribbled words:

DON’T GO. YOU’LL NEVER RETURN
.

The night before our trip to Forbidden Falls, I dreamed I was alone in a canoe. In the dream, the river was bright red.

It flowed so quickly, it sent my canoe speeding toward the falls without any paddling. In fact, I didn’t have any paddles. I sat helplessly in the canoe, searching for my friends, shouting their names.

The roar of the falls became deafening. I covered my ears. The canoe started to toss and bounce on the red water. I gripped the sides with both hands to keep from falling out.

I could see the falls ahead of me. A steep drop like the edge of a cliff. The red water bubbled and foamed.

And then my canoe tipped over. And I fell into the roaring red water. The intense current pulled me down…down beneath the surface.

I struggled to get to the top, fighting the surging waves. When I finally surfaced, Panda, my black-
and-white cocker spaniel from home, was in the water with me. He was swimming frantically, his paws slapping the rushing water.

I reached out a hand. Tried to grab him. And instead the current dragged me over the tumbling falls.

I woke up screaming.

Marty and David were leaning over me, shaking me. “Russell—wake up. Wake up!”

“Huh?” I blinked my eyes open. I could still feel the current, the rushing red water pulling me down.

“You were having a nightmare,” Marty said. “We couldn’t wake you up.”

“Were you dreaming about Forbidden Falls?” David asked.

“Of course not!” I snapped. “Why would I dream about the falls?”

I was angry at David. He was the one who left the scribbled note on my bed. He confessed the next day. He thought it was real funny.

“Then why did you scream like that?” David asked.

“I was dreaming about your face!” I said.

Gray light poured in through the cabin window. It was nearly dawn. No point in going back to sleep.

I climbed out of bed and started to pack. I stashed most of my stuff in my backpack. Then I folded the rest up in my sleeping bag.

Lugging our gear on our backs, David, Marty, and
I made our way down the hill. The rising sun cast a red stripe low over the trees. The grass shimmered wetly from the morning dew. The air still carried the chill of night.

We met Charlotte and Erin by the lake. Then, bending under our backpacks and sleeping bags, we made our way through the woods to the river.

Ramos met us there. He was sitting on the ground next to the bags of rolled-up nylon tents, drinking coffee from a paper cup. Three canoes bobbed gently in the water behind him.

“Where’s Corey?” I asked.

“He isn’t coming. You’re stuck with me.”

We dumped our gear on the ground. Ramos shook his head. “It’s only a two-day trip. Did you bring everything you own?”

“Yeah. I brought a little TV in case we get bored,” David joked.

“Russell brought his teddy bear,” Marty said.

I tossed a punch at his shoulder. “Give me a break, Marty.”

“Yeah. Give Russell a break,” Ramos said. “No more kidding around. We have to be totally serious. Remember, we’re all in this together.”

“David and Marty are a little tense,” I told Ramos. “I’ll try to calm them down.”

“Is it supposed to rain?” Erin asked. She and Charlotte had their eyes on the low gray clouds overhead.

“If it stays cloudy, that’s good,” Ramos said. “It’s hard to paddle long distances under a burning sun.” He gazed up at the clouds. “Of course, if it rains, the river could get really churned up. We could have a more exciting ride than we expect!”

Those words sent a chill down my back.

David grinned at me. “Did you bring an umbrella, Russell?”

I ignored him and helped Ramos load the tents, backpacks, and sleeping bags into the equipment canoe. Then Ramos carefully tied the equipment canoe to one of the other canoes.

“Okay, how shall we divide up?” Ramos asked, handing out sets of paddles. “Russell and Charlotte—you come with me. Erin, Marty, and David—you take the lead canoe.”

We pulled on our life jackets. Then, holding his paddles in front of him, Ramos climbed into the canoe and made his way to the back.

I stepped in next. The canoe tilted to the side. “Whoa!” My hands shot up as I almost toppled out.

Charlotte and some of the others laughed. “Stop it, Russell. You did that deliberately,” she said.

“Yeah. I did,” I lied. I could feel myself blushing.

Shape up, Russell, I scolded myself. We haven’t even left the shore—and you almost fell in! You can do better than that.

I took a deep breath and settled into my place in the middle of the canoe. Charlotte climbed in. She
sat down, dropped her paddles, and finished fastening the buckles on her life jacket.

A few minutes later, we took off from the shore. Our canoe followed the other kids. The equipment canoe bobbed along behind us.

I started to paddle. It felt awkward and hard. It took a while to get a rhythm going.

The sky grew darker. I felt a few cold raindrops on my head. On the shore, I glimpsed a family of fat brown-and-black raccoons loping into the trees.

“The river is slow today,” Ramos said. “We’re going to have to do most of the work. Lean into it, guys.”

We paddled harder. Water splashed onto the sides of the canoe.

“I—I think I’m seasick!” David called. He pretended to puke over the side of his canoe.

“Very mature,” Erin groaned. She turned back to us. “Ramos, can I switch to your canoe?”

Marty and David giggled.

Ramos shrugged. “You can swim alongside if you want.”

“How long does the river stay calm like this?” I asked.

“Not for long,” Ramos replied. “It gets faster about ten miles from here. Of course, we won’t hit the real white-water rapids until tomorrow.”

I swallowed hard. I tried to picture the white-water rapids. I imagined the falls, plunging straight
down. I pictured roaring white foam. Canoe paddles flying out of our hands. The canoes turning over. Everyone screaming…

“Russell, get with the program.” Ramos’s words broke into my frightened thoughts. “Remember our practice. You’ve got to paddle with the rest of us. Were you daydreaming or something?”

“No. He fainted!” David called back. His canoe had pulled farther ahead of us.

“Let’s catch up to them,” Ramos said. “Come on. Paddle. One-two. One-two. Up-back. One-two.”

When we pulled alongside the other canoe, the sky lightened again. We seemed to be leaving the dark clouds behind. The water rippled gently, dark under the gray morning sky.

“The river curves right up ahead,” Ramos said. “And it picks up speed.”

“Maybe we can coast for a while,” Erin said, sighing.

“We’ll paddle in shifts,” Ramos said. “Everyone will get a break. But listen up, I want to give some last-minute instructions.”

Marty and David were laughing about something.

“Come on, guys,” Ramos said sharply. “It could save your lives. I want you to remember—if you fall in when we hit the rough stuff, don’t struggle. Don’t try to swim out. Your life jacket will keep you afloat. Get your feet out in front of you so you float on your back. And then let the current carry you.”

“Shouldn’t we try to get back to the canoe?” I asked.

Ramos shook his head. “Too dangerous. The canoe might hit you or run over you. It’s best to let the current carry you down. Just be careful of the rocks.”

We paddled in silence for a while. I listened to the splash of the paddles in the water. A flock of birds flew high overhead, black V’s against the gray sky.

Charlotte broke the silence. “But Ramos, if we fall out, won’t you come rescue us in the canoe?”

“Too dangerous,” he replied. “I won’t be able to control it well enough up at the top. I’ll have to pull you out down below.”

“You mean—
after
we go over the falls?” I asked.

“Yeah. After,” Ramos replied. “But don’t worry.”

A chill ran down my back. “Don’t worry?” My throat suddenly felt tight.

If we fall out, we have to
swim
over the falls?

I knew Ramos was trying to prepare us. He was trying to let us know what to expect.

But his words were
terrifying
me.

I leaned forward and paddled harder, trying not to think about falling into the roaring rapids…the jutting, jagged black rocks…the sheer drop over the falls.

I can’t believe we’re just sitting in these canoes so calmly, I thought. I can’t believe we’re all facing this incredible danger.

The canoe rocked. We started to pick up speed. The current grew stronger. The rolling river pulled us
around the curve. The canoes pitched from side to side. Waves lapped higher on the sides of the canoe.

“Whoa!”

I felt a hard bump.

Without warning, the canoe leapt up.

And I went flying.