The Horror at Camp Jellyjam

by R. L. Stine

  “Huh?” Ivy and I both uttered our surprise.

  Squinting through the dim gray light, I studied the dresser drawer. Totally empty. “Check the closet,” I suggested.

  Ivy crossed the room in three or four quick strides. She pulled open the closet door.

  “Dierdre’s stuff — it’s all gone!” Ivy declared.

  “Weird,” I muttered. It was still the word of the night.

  “Where did she go?” Ivy added. Good question, I thought, staring at the empty closet.

  Where did Dierdre go?

  Breakfast was the noisiest meal of the day. Spoons clattered against cereal bowls. Orange juice pitchers banged on the long wooden tables.

  Voices rang out as if someone had turned up the volume all the way. Everyone talked excitedly about the sports they planned to play today, the games they planned to win.

  I had taken the last shower. So Jan and Ivy were already eating breakfast when I made my way into the mess hall.

  As I pushed through the narrow aisle between the tables, I searched for Dierdre. No sign of her.

  I hadn’t slept very well, even though I was really tired. I kept thinking about Dierdre — and about Alicia. And I kept wondering what was taking Mom and Dad so long to get in touch with us.

  I spotted Elliot at the end of a table filled with boys about his age. He had a stack of waffles in front of him, and he was pouring dark syrup over them.

  “Elliot — what’s up?” I called, squeezing through the aisle to get over to him.

  My brother didn’t bother saying good morning. “I’ve got a one-on-one tournament this morning,” he reported excitedly. “I could win my third King Coin!”

  “Thrills and chills,” I replied, rolling my eyes. “You haven’t heard anything about Mom and Dad, have you?”

  He stared at me as if he didn’t remember who they were. Then he shook his head. “Not yet. Isn’t this a great camp? Did we luck out or what?”

  I didn’t reply. My eyes were on the next table. I thought I had spotted Dierdre. But it was just another girl with streaky blond hair.

  “Have you won any coins yet?” Elliot asked. He had a mouth full of waffle. Syrup dripped down his chin.

  “Not yet,” I replied.

  He snickered. “They should change the camp slogan for you, Wendy. Only the Worst!”

  Elliot laughed. The other boys at the table laughed, too.

  As I said, Elliot really cracks himself up.

  I wasn’t in the mood for his lame jokes. My mind was still on Dierdre. “Catch you later,” I said.

  I squeezed past the table and headed toward the girls’ side of the room. Cheers and laughter rang out at a table near the wall. A scrambled-egg-tossing battle had broken out. Three counselors rushed to stop it.

  Jan and Ivy’s table was full. I found an empty space at the next table. I poured myself a glass of juice and a bowl of cornflakes. But I didn’t feel too hungry.

  “Hey!” I called out when I saw Buddy walk by. He didn’t hear me over the noise, so I jumped up and ran after him.

  “Hi. What’s up?” He greeted me with a smile. His blond hair was still wet from the shower. He smelled kind of flowery. Aftershave, I guessed.

  “Do you know where Dierdre went?” I demanded.

  He narrowed his eyes in surprise. “Dierdre?”

  “A girl in my dorm room,” I explained. “She didn’t come back to the room last night. Her closet is empty.”

  “Dierdre,” he repeated, thinking hard. He raised his clipboard to his face and ran his finger down it slowly. “Oh, yeah. She’s gone.” His cheeks turned bright pink.

  “Excuse me?” I stared up at him. “Dierdre is gone? Where did she go? Home?”

  He studied the sheet on his clipboard. “I guess. It just says she’s gone.” His cheeks darkened from pink to red.

  “That’s so weird,” I told him. “She didn’t say good-bye or anything.”

  Buddy shrugged. A smile spread over his face. “Have a nice day!”

  He started toward the counselors’ table at the front of the huge room. But I ran after him. I grabbed his arm.

  “Buddy, one more question,” I said. “Do you know where I can find a little girl named Alicia?”

  Buddy waved to some boys across the room. “Go get ‘em guys! Only the Best!” he shouted to them. Then he turned back to me. “Alicia?”

  “I don’t know her last name. She’s probably six or seven,” I told him. “She has beautiful long red hair and a face full of freckles.”

  “Alicia …” He chewed his bottom lip. Then he raised the clipboard again.

  I watched as he ran his finger down the list of names. When his finger stopped, his cheeks turned pink again.

  “Oh, yeah. Alicia,” he said, lowering the clipboard. He grinned at me. A strange grin. A chilling grin. “She’s gone, too.”

  18

  “Jan! Ivy!” I saw them hurrying from the mess hall, and I chased after them. “We’ve got to talk!” I cried breathlessly.

  “We can’t. We’re late.” Jan straightened her bangs with one hand. “If we don’t get to the volleyball nets in time, we can’t be in the tournament.”

  “But it’s important!” I called as they jogged to the doors.

  They didn’t seem to hear me. I watched them disappear into the morning sunlight.

  My heart pounded in my chest. I suddenly felt cold all over.

  I caught up with my brother, who was playfully boxing a tall, skinny boy with short blond hair. “Elliot — come here,” I instructed. “Just for a minute.”

  “I can’t,” he called. “Remember? My one-on-one contest?”

  The tall, skinny boy hurried out the door. I stepped in front of Elliot, blocking his path.

  “Give me a break!” he cried. “I don’t want to be late. I’m going against Jeff. Remember him? I can beat him. He’s big, but he’s real slow.”

  “Elliot, something strange is going on here,” I said, backing him against the wall. Kids were staring at us as they made their way outside. But I didn’t care.

  “You’re the only one who’s strange!” Elliot shot back. “Are you going to let me go to the basketball court or not?”

  He started to push past me. I pinned his shoulders to the wall with both hands.

  “Just give me one second!” I insisted. “There’s something wrong with this camp, Elliot.” I let go of him.

  “You mean the rumbling noises?” he asked, brushing back his dark hair with one hand. “That’s just gas under the ground or something. A counselor explained it to me.”

  “That’s not what I’m talking about,” I replied. “Kids are disappearing.”

  He laughed. “Invisible kids? You mean, like a magic trick?”

  “Stop making fun of me!” I snapped. “It isn’t funny, Elliot. Kids are disappearing. Dierdre from my dorm room? She was in the Winners Walk last night. Then she didn’t come back to the room.”

  Elliot’s grin faded.

  “This morning, Buddy told me she was gone,” I continued. I snapped my fingers. “Just like that. And a little girl named Alicia — she disappeared, too.”

  Elliot’s brown eyes studied me. “Kids have to go home sometime,” he insisted. “What’s the big deal?”

  “And what about Mom and Dad?” I demanded. “They couldn’t have driven very far before they realized the trailer had come loose. Why haven’t they found us? Why hasn’t the camp found them?”

  Elliot shrugged. “Beats me,” he replied casually. He dodged past me and started to the door. “Wendy, you’re just unhappy because you stink at sports. But I’m having a great time here. Don’t mess it up for me — okay?”

  “But — but — Elliot!” I sputtered.

  Shaking his head, he pushed the door open with both hands and escaped into the sunlight.

  I balled both hands into tight fists. I really wanted to pound him. Why wouldn’t he listen to me? Couldn’t he see how upset and frightened I was?

 
Elliot is the kind of kid who never worries about anything. Everything always seems to go his way. So why should he sweat it?

  But you think he’d be just a little worried about Mom and Dad.

  Mom and Dad …

  I had a heavy feeling in my stomach as I made my way slowly out the door. Had they been in a car accident or something? Is that why they hadn’t found Elliot and me yet?

  No. Stop making things worse, I scolded myself. Don’t let your imagination run away with you, Wendy.

  I suddenly remembered my plan to call home. Yes, I decided, I will do that right now. I will call home and leave a message for Mom and Dad on the answering machine.

  I stopped in the middle of the path and searched for a pay phone. A group of girls carrying hockey sticks passed by. I heard a long whistle coming from the pool, across from the tennis courts. Then I heard the splash of kids diving into the water.

  Everyone is having fun, I thought — except me.

  I decided to make the call, then find a sport to play. Something to take my mind off all my crazy worries.

  I returned to the pay phones near the dorm. I ran full speed and picked up the nearest phone.

  I raised the receiver to my ear and started to punch in our number.

  Then I cried out in surprise.

  19

  “Hi there, Camper!” boomed a cheerful, deep voice. “Have a wonderful day at camp. This is King Jellyjam greeting you. Work hard. Play hard. And win. And always remember — Only the Best!”

  “Oh, no!” I cried. “A stupid message!”

  “Hi there, Camper! Have a wonderful day —” The tape started to repeat in my ear.

  I slammed the receiver down and picked up the next phone.

  “Hi there, Camper! Have a wonderful day at camp.” The same jolly, booming voice. The same recorded message.

  I tried every phone in the row. They all played the same message. None of the phones were real.

  Where are the real phones? I wondered. There have to be phones that actually work.

  I turned away from the dorm and wandered down the dirt path. As I passed the bushes where Jan, Ivy, and I had hid last night, I felt a chill. And thought about Alicia.

  Bright sunlight washed over the sloping, grassy hill. I shielded my eyes and watched a black-and-orange monarch butterfly. It fluttered toward a patch of red and pink geraniums.

  I walked aimlessly, searching for a telephone. All around, kids were shouting, laughing, playing hard. I didn’t really hear them. I was deep into my own troubled thoughts.

  “Hey! Hey! Hey!”

  My brother’s voice startled me into stopping. I blinked several times, struggling to focus.

  I saw that I had wandered down to the basketball court. Elliot and Jeff were having their one-on-one basketball competition.

  Jeff dribbled the ball. It thudded loudly on the asphalt court. My brother waved both arms in Jeff’s face. Made a grab for the ball.

  Missed.

  Jeff lowered his shoulder. Bumped Elliot out of the way. Dribbled to the basket — and shot.

  “Two points!” he cried, grinning.

  Elliot scowled and shook his head. “You fouled me.”

  Jeff pretended not to hear. He was twice as big as Elliot. A big hulk. He could push Elliot all over the court if he wanted to.

  Whatever made Elliot think he could win?

  “What’s the score?” Jeff demanded, wiping sweat off his forehead with the back of one hand.

  “Eighteen to ten,” Elliot reported unhappily. I didn’t need twenty guesses to figure out that my brother was losing.

  The basketball court was closed off by a mesh-wire fence. I grabbed the fence with both hands, pressed my face up against it, and watched.

  Elliot dribbled, moving back, back, giving himself some space. Jeff moved with him, leaning forward, adjusting his basketball shorts with one hand as he moved.

  Suddenly, Elliot burst forward, his eyes on the basket. He started his jump, raised his right hand to shoot — and Jeff grabbed the ball away.

  Elliot jumped and shot nothing but air.

  Jeff dribbled twice. Put up a two-handed layup.

  Swish. The score was twenty to ten.

  Jeff won the game a few seconds later. He let out a cheer and slapped Elliot a high five.

  Elliot frowned and shook his head. “Lucky shots,” he muttered.

  “Yeah. For sure,” Jeff replied, using the front of his sleeveless blue T-shirt to mop his sweating face. “Hey, congratulate me, man. You’re my sixth victim!”

  “Huh?” Elliot stared at him, hands pressed against his knees, struggling to catch his breath. “You mean —?”

  “Yeah.” Jeff grinned. “My sixth King Coin. I get to march in the Winners Walk tonight!”

  “Wow. That’s cool,” Elliot replied without enthusiasm. “I still have three coins to go.”

  I had the sudden feeling that I was being watched. I let go of the wire fence and took a step back.

  Buddy had been staring at me from the path. His eyes were narrowed, and his mouth was set in a stern, unhappy expression.

  How long had he been standing there?

  Why did he look so unhappy? His grim expression gave me a chill.

  As I turned to him, he stepped forward. His blue eyes stared hard into mine.

  “I’m sorry, Wendy,” the counselor said softly. “But you have to go.”

  20

  “Excuse me?” I gaped at him. My mouth dropped open.

  What was he saying? Where did I have to go?

  Did he mean I had to go — like Dierdre and Alicia?

  “You have to go find a sport,” Buddy repeated, still speaking softly. His solemn expression didn’t change. “You can’t stand around watching other kids play. King Jellyjam would never approve of that.”

  I’d like to step on that ugly little blob! I thought angrily. What a stupid name. King Jellyjam. Yuck!

  Buddy had just scared me to death. Was he trying to frighten me? I wondered.

  No, I quickly decided. Buddy doesn’t know that I’m upset about things. How could he know?

  Buddy hurried onto the basketball court. He slapped Jeff on the back and handed him a gold King Coin. “Way to go, guy!” he cried, flashing Jeff a thumbs-up. “I’ll see you in the Winners Walk tonight. Only the Best!”

  Buddy said a few words to my brother. Elliot shrugged a few times. Then he said something that made Buddy laugh. I couldn’t hear their words.

  When Elliot trotted off to find his next sport, Buddy strode quickly back to me. He put an arm around my shoulders and guided me away from the basketball court.

  “I guess you’re just not a self-starter, Wendy,” he said.

  “I guess,” I replied. What was I supposed to say?

  “Well, I’m going to give you a schedule for today. See if you like it,” Buddy said. “First, I have a tennis match lined up for you. You play tennis, right?”

  “A little,” I told him. “I’m not that great, but —”

  “After tennis, come down to the softball diamond, okay?” Buddy continued. “We’ll get you on one of the softball teams.”

  He flashed me a warm smile. “I think you’ll have a lot more fun if you join in — don’t you?”

  “Yeah. Probably,” I replied. I wanted to sound more enthusiastic. But I just couldn’t.

  Buddy led me onto one of the back tennis courts. An African-American girl about my age was warming up by hitting a tennis ball against a backboard.

  She turned and greeted me as I approached. “How’s it going?”

  “Fine,” I replied. We introduced ourselves.

  Her name was Rose. She was tall and pretty. She wore a purple tank top over black shorts. I saw a silver hoop dangling from one ear.

  Buddy handed me a racket. “Have fun,” he said. “And watch out, Wendy. Rose already has five King Coins!”

  “Are you a good tennis player?” I asked, twirling the racket in my hand.

  Rose nod
ded. “Yeah. Pretty good. How about you?”

  “I don’t know,” I told her honestly. “My friend and I always play just for fun.”

  Rose laughed. She had a deep, throaty laugh that I liked. It made me want to laugh, too. “I never play for fun!” she declared.

  She told the truth.

  We volleyed back and forth for a while, to get warmed up. Rose leaned forward, tensed her body, narrowed her dark eyes — then started slamming the ball back at me as if we were playing the final set of a championship!

  She played even harder once we started our match.

  I found out very quickly that I was no match for her. I was lucky to return a few of her serves!

  Rose was a good sport about it. I caught her snickering a few times at my two-handed backhand. But she didn’t make fun of my pitiful game. And she gave me some really helpful tips as the match continued.

  She won in straight sets.

  I congratulated her. She seemed really excited about winning her sixth King Coin.

  A woman counselor I hadn’t seen before appeared on the court and presented the coin to Rose. “See you at the Winners Walk tonight,” she said, grinning.

  Then the counselor turned to me. “The softball diamond is right over that hill, Wendy.” She pointed.

  I thanked her and began walking in that direction. “Don’t walk — run!” she called. “Let’s see some spirit! Only the Best!”

  I let out an unhappy groan. I don’t think she heard me. Then I obediently started to run.

  Why is everyone always rushing me around here? I complained silently. Why can’t I go lie down by the pool and work on my tan?

  As the softball diamond came into view, I started to cheer up a little. I actually like softball. I’m not much of a fielder. But I’m a pretty good slugger.

  The teams, I saw, had boys and girls on them. I recognized two of the girls from my breakfast table this morning.

  One of them tossed me a bat. “Hi. I’m Ronni. You can be on our team,” she said. “Can you pitch?”

  “I guess,” I replied, wrapping my hands around the bat. “Sometimes I pitch after school on the playground.”

  She nodded. “Okay. You can pitch the first couple of innings.”

  Ronni called the kids together and we huddled. We went around the circle, giving our names. Then the kids who didn’t have fielding positions chose their spots.