Shadows of Caesar's Creek
Page 1
SHADOWS OF CAESAR’S CREEK
Be sure to read all the
Clubhouse Mysteries !
The Buried Bones Mystery
Lost in the Tunnel of Time
This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales
are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of
the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons,
living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
An imprint of Simon & Schuster Children’s Publishing Division
1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020
www.SimonandSchuster.com
First Aladdin hardcover edition September 2011
Text copyright © 1997, 2006 by Sharon M. Draper
Illustrations copyright © 2006 by Jesse Joshua Watson
Originally published as the series title Ziggy and the Black Dinosaurs.
All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form.
ALADDIN is a trademark of Simon & Schuster, Inc., and related logo is
a registered trademark of Simon & Schuster, Inc.
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Designed by Karina Granda
The text of this book was set in Minion.
Manufactured in the United States of America 0811 FFG
2 4 6 8 1 0 9 7 5 3 1
Library of Congress Control Number 2005930999
ISBN 978-1-4424-2712-9
ISBN 978-1-4424-3137-9 (eBook)
This book is dedicated to
Jasmine and Landon
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
ZIGGY’S THOUGHTS BOUNCED LIKE HOT POPCORN as he ran through his backyard to the clubhouse of the Black Dinosaurs. An overnight camping trip he thought eagerly.Fishing Hiking Cooking over a campfire He couldn’t wait to talk to Rico, Rashawn, and Jerome, the other members of the Black Dinosaurs, about the letter from Camp Caesar.
Ziggy’s huge backyard was wonderful. It was a place where flowers, weeds, rabbits, and ten-year-old boys could grow wild. It was a place to dream and create—a perfect location for secrets and adventures. Ziggy followed a path, probably used by raccoons, which ran back through the thick underbrush to the clubhouse.
Using the remains of an old fence that the boys had found in Ziggy’s backyard, they had built the clubhouse themselves the previous summer. They had cut holes that looked a lot like windows in the two side walls, and for the door, they’d used a smaller section of the fence wall. It closed with a bent piece of wire coat hanger.
Inside, the clubhouse was about ten feet by twelve feet—not really big, but large enough for four boys to sit and talk. In it was one lawn chair with most of the webbing missing, one folding chair left over from a church picnic, one three-legged kitchen chair (they used a large rock to balance it), and a bicycle with two flat tires. This was their seating arrangement, or they could push everything aside and sit on the blanket that Ziggy’s mom had given them.
Just as Ziggy got to the front of the clubhouse, he tripped over his shoelace, lost his balance, landed on his backside, and rolled with a laugh to the door, where Jerome was waiting for him. Ziggy never walked anywhere—he bounced or jogged or galloped wherever he went. He was always in a good mood, always excited about whatever was happening around him. So Jerome was not surprised when Ziggy landed at his feet, bubbling with excitement.
He helped Ziggy up and asked with a laugh, “What’s up, Ziggy?”
“Did your letter come, mon? Are you packed? Where are Rico and Rashawn?” Ziggy’s eyes were bright. Behind him, the boys could hear the rustling of something in the bushes.
Rashawn’s Siberian husky, Afrika, with one blue eye and one brown eye, trotted out of the bushes, found his favorite spot under a tree, and went to sleep. Rashawn, tall, brown, and skinny, and wearing his favorite army boots, stomped through the backyard and sat down on a large rock in front of the clubhouse.
“What’s goin’ on, fellas?” he asked. “Where’s Rico?”
Ziggy was still hopping around enthusiastically. He wore a green vest, a blue shirt, and bright red jeans. Today a large knitted cap covered his braids, which usually bounced as much as he did. Ziggy’s family had come from Jamaica to Ohio several years before and had moved onto the street in Cincinnati where Rico, Rashawn, and Jerome lived.
The four boys had been friends since first grade.
Rico was coming down the path to the clubhouse. He had a huge wad of bubble gum in his mouth and was attempting to blow the world’s biggest bubble. He walked slowly, concentrating on blowing and balancing the bubble, which was almost the size of his face. He didn’t see Ziggy, who leaped into the air, bursting to tell his good news.
“It’s almost time” cried Ziggy. As Ziggy began to speak, he waved his arms around wildly. At that moment Rico and his bubble walked right into Ziggy’s hand. Splat went the bubble gum, and Rico’s surprised face and thick brown hair were instantly covered with sticky pink bubble gum.
Rashawn and Jerome hooted with laughter; Ziggy rolled on the ground with delight. Rico didn’t laugh much. But it was clear he wasn’t angry as he sat on the grass, picking gum out of his hair.
“That bubble would have gone in the Guinness Book of World Records,” he said, faking disappointment. “I bet it was the biggest one in the world so far”
“Aw, mon, I blow bubbles bigger than that every day” boasted Ziggy. “But you gotta mix the bubble gum with mashed potatoes first That’s the secret ingredient”
“Yuck” exclaimed the others. They were used to Ziggy’s unusual tastes in food. He stirred his chocolate milk with pickles and put mustard on his cornflakes.
“So tell us, Ziggy,” Jerome said finally. “What’s up?”
“The mailman just left,” Ziggy told them, “and my letter from Camp Caesar came today We’ve been waiting forever, but the trip is finally here We’re going camping at Caesar’s Creek State Park next week”
“We got our letters today too,” Rico said. “It’s gonna be a cool trip.” He had almost finished pulling the bubble gum out of his hair.
Rashawn cheered. “Let’s hear it for my dad” Rashawn’s father was a member of the Black Heritage Club. They had decided several months ago to sponsor field trips for the young people of the community, and this camping trip was one of the first activities.
“I’ve never slept outside in the woods before,” admitted Jerome. “I wonder what we ought to take.”
Ziggy pulled a folded piece of paper from the back pocket of his red jeans. “Not to worry, mon” he announced. “Here’s the list of things to bring. Let’s see here … flashlight, sleeping bag, backpack, extra socks, bug spray …”
“Bug spray?” asked Jerome. He hated insects. He carried bug spray every day in his book bag, just in case. “You know how I am about bugs I’ll probably never get to sleep, looking for bugs in the night.”
Ziggy laughed and said again, “Not to worry, mon It will be so dark in those woods at night you’ll never even see the bugs that bite you”
Jerome picked up a handful of dry leaves and threw them at Ziggy. �
�Hey, you really know how to make a dude feel better, man”
“Who else is going?” asked Rico.
“I’m not sure,” Rashawn answered. “I think a few more kids from school. There might be some kids from other schools near the campsite, my dad said.”
“Any girls?” asked Rashawn.
“Who cares, mon” Ziggy replied. “I’m more concerned with the lions and tigers and bears”
“There are no lions and tigers in the woods here in Ohio,” Rico declared. “But I’m not sure about bears.”
“Bears?” asked Rashawn fearfully.
“There’s no bears around here,” Jerome stated, “but I know the woods are full of bugs”
“Don’t forget, we’ll have bug spray,” reminded Rico.
“Bug spray won’t do much against a bear” muttered Rashawn, who didn’t want to admit he was a little worried.
Ziggy checked the list again. “Not to worry, mon,” he announced again with cheerful assurance, “nothing on here about bears”
“That doesn’t mean there aren’t any,” Rashawn continued, smiling in spite of himself.
“What about Indians?” asked Rico.
“I don’t know,” Jerome said with a frown. “There used to be millions of Indians in Ohio—a long time ago.”
“What do you suppose happened to all of them?” Rico wondered.
“Hey, mon, I bet there are thousands of Indians living in the woods up there right now”
“No, Ziggy,” Rico said thoughtfully, “I think they got pushed out—from their own land. My dad told me that it used to be really beautiful around here before there were roads or bridges or even houses.”
“Can you imagine,” Rashawn thought out loud, “nothing but forests for miles and miles? The Indians had it so good”
“Yeah, except for one thing.” Jerome grinned.
“What, mon?”
“There was no place to stop for hamburgers and French fries”
“Or pizza”
“Or tacos”
“Or chocolate-covered spaghetti, mon”
At that, they all grabbed dry leaves and grass from the yard to throw at Ziggy, until he ran laughing and shouting through the backyard.
“Not to worry, mon” they heard him yell in the distance, still laughing. “I’ll bring my own”
THE FOLLOWING SATURDAY DAWNED BRIGHT AND clear. Jerome, wearing his uncle’s tall black hiking boots and black leather vest, waited in the parking lot with his grandmother and his two little sisters, Temika and LaTonya. They were still sleepy and a little grumpy that they had been made to get up just so Jerome could go on a trip. But nobody argued with Granny. When she said get up, that’s what you did.
Jerome’s backpack and sleeping bag, which were a faded army green, had belonged to his grandfather, who had fought in the Vietnam War. Jerome wore dark sunglasses and tried not to look excited as the camp bus pulled into the lot.
Rico’s mom drove a dull brown car that badly needed a muffler and a paint job. It rattled and sputtered and coughed into the parking lot, just behind the bus. Rico grinned at Jerome and hopped out almost before the car stopped. He was dressed in blue jeans and a matching blue shirt, which was, as usual, neatly tucked in. He even had a matching blue sleeping bag and backpack.
Jerome knew without looking that Rico’s backpack would have neat rolls of clothes, with a toothbrush in a plastic holder and extra plastic bags for wet socks. The others sometimes teased Rico about his organization, but they knew they could depend on him to build anything they needed—from clubhouses to tree bridges.
The other kids who were going on the trip quickly began to fill the parking lot. Tiana was a tall, pretty girl who always had a smile for Rashawn. She had once helped to save the Black Dinosaurs when they were trapped in an underground tunnel. Mimi, a petite, coffee-cheeked girl with long black braids, “ate math problems for breakfast,” her classmates said. She never got anything less than an A in any math class and had already skipped to the seventh-grade book.
Liza was the fastest runner in the school, and everyone knew that she could also beat up any kid in the school—boy or girl. She smiled easily and would give her last gummy bear to a friend, but she had a quick temper and had once broken a window with her fist. Her best friend, Brandy, wrote poetry. She always carried a pencil and paper with her to jot down ideas. Brandy had a fondness for jelly beans and always kept some in her book bag.
“Is everyone here?” asked the bus driver.
Rico looked at Jerome and started to say, “Ziggy—” when a police siren screaming in the distance pierced the silence of the morning. Everyone in the parking lot turned to look as the sound of the siren got closer. Speeding around the corner, a police car suddenly roared into the parking lot, with lights flashing, siren blaring, and Rashawn and Ziggy waving from the two back windows.
Everyone cheered and crowded around the police car, which was driven by Rashawn’s dad. Rashawn was proud that his dad was a cop, and even prouder that he had broken the rules to drive them to the parking lot in such a blaze of glory.
“Thanks, Dad,” he whispered. His dad put his arm around Rashawn and smiled.
Ziggy got out of the police car slowly, grinning and waving to the cheering crowd of his friends. “Not to worry, mon Ziggy is here” he said dramatically. He was dressed in his favorite red jeans and a huge purple coat that came almost to the tops of his new green tennis shoes. The coat had belonged to Ziggy’s cousin and was filled with large pockets, small pockets, zippers, and flaps.
“Where’s your backpack, Ziggy?” asked Rico. “It’s right here, mon,” replied Ziggy with a grin, pointing to his coat. “I’ve got socks in this pocket, a clean T‑shirt here, and a peanut-butter-and-pickle sandwich in this one Everything a mon needs for a camping trip is right here in my coat pockets”
Noni, the counselor from Camp Caesar, dressed in the light brown uniform of the Ohio State Department of Parks and Recreation, looked tanned and tough. She wore her hair in one long black braid tied with a piece of leather in the back.
“She looks like an Indian maiden,” Tiana whispered to Mimi.
Noni checked her list and announced loudly, “Campers, load the bus now. Stow your gear in the overhead racks. Let’s head out of here”
Rico’s mom gave him a quick hug and a final warning: “Be careful, now Have fun” Rico wondered how he could do both, but he just nodded and ran to the bus.
Rashawn got his gear from the back of the police car, gave a last wave to his dad, and headed for the bus. “See you tomorrow, Dad Don’t tell Mom I left my winter coat in your car”
His dad grinned. “I don’t think you’ll need it. Go on and don’t worry about it. She worries enough for the three of us” Rashawn gave his father a look of thanks and stomped his heavy army boots cheerfully onto the bus.
Ziggy was the last to board the bus. His purple coat flapped behind him in the early morning breeze as he jogged around the parking lot one last time.
“Let’s go, Ziggy,” called Noni. “Where’s your sleeping bag?”
Ziggy stopped suddenly. “Oh, no” he exclaimed. “I left it at home, mon I was so excited about riding in the police car that I forgot it. Let’s see, I hugged my mum, put my hat on, fed my cat on the front porch—it’s on my porch”
Noni sighed, looked at her watch, and said, “Well, Ziggy …”
Just then Ziggy’s mom pulled into the parking lot. His face brightened as he ran to the car. She shook her head as if to say, When will you learn, Ziggy? but she smiled, knowing it wouldn’t be the last time he’d forget and she would have to bail him out. She had brought his costume to school on the day of the class play, and his tie on the day of the vocal music concert.
“Oh thanks, Mum You’re the best I promise I’ll never do this again Not to worry” He hugged her through the car window, kissed her on the cheek, and leaped onto the bus. He waved and grinned at her from the window and blew her another kiss. She couldn’t help laughing.
Finally, Noni told the driver to close the doors and take off. Everyone cheered as the bus roared out of
the parking lot, leaving the parents waving behind it.
As the bus lumbered down the highway, the signs and sights of the city began to disappear. Trees and fields and cows soon replaced houses and stores and people.
“Look, mon” cried Ziggy as he looked out of the window of the bus. “A deer With antlers Oh, wow There’s three—no, four—wait I see six of them” Everyone crowded to Ziggy’s side of the bus to see. The small herd of deer looked up briefly, then darted into the thick woods behind them. It’s gonna be a good trip, thought Ziggy with satisfaction as he settled back into his seat.
The ride from their school to Caesar’s Creek State Park took only about forty-five minutes. Before they knew it, the bus was turning down a small road. Straight ahead the children could see a large brown sign that read: CAESAR’S CREEK STATE PARK—5 MILES.
Ziggy bounced on his seat with excitement. Rico looked at Jerome and grinned. Rashawn looked at Tiana, but she was busy looking out of the window, or at least she pretended to be.
“Hey, Noni” Ziggy yelled from the back of the bus. “How come we got a park in Ohio named for Julius Caesar? Did he sleep here or something?”
“I’m glad you asked that, Ziggy,” Noni replied with a smile. “Everyone listen up” The bus got quiet for a moment, and Noni stood in the middle of the aisle, swaying with the bus as it twisted its way down the narrow roads that led to the camp. She asked loudly, “Does anyone know where Caesar’s Creek got its name?”
“Julius Caesar fell into a creek here?” Rashawn asked. Tiana giggled.
“Nope,” Noni said, shaking her head.
“Julius Caesar discovered it?” asked Mimi.
“Not even close” Noni chuckled. “As a matter of fact, it wasn’t named for Julius Caesar at all Any more guesses?”
“Maybe it was named for Caesar’s wife” exclaimed Liza. The girls all laughed and agreed.
“Sorry, girls,” Noni replied. “That’s not it either.”