The Camp Phoenix Caper

by John V. Madormo

  “I understand that,” he said, “but I didn’t think this place was a jail.”

  “He must have left that part out,” I said.

  “Tell me something,” Evan said. “How do you fit into all of this?” He handed my business card back to me. “Now I can see why you got arrested for breaking and entering.”

  “What?” I had to think about what he had said. “You got it all wrong. I didn’t do any of the things I told you before.”

  “I don’t get it,” Evan said.

  “I snuck on that bus to get here.”

  “Why in the world would you ever want to come to a place like this if you didn’t have to?”

  I sat down on the cot. “I was hired to find a missing person. And I found him. Or, at least, I saw him. Now I just have to figure out a way to get him—and me—outta here.”

  Evan joined me on the cot. “And me. Can you help me get outta here too?”

  I smiled. That was just what I was hoping to hear. “I don’t see why not,” I said. “If you can help me run some interference, then I’ll gladly help you escape from this place. Deal?” I extended my hand and we shook on it. Before we mapped out a strategy for locating Josh, I needed to find out a little more about my new partner. “Tell me a little something about yourself,” I said. “What did you mean back there when you said you didn’t belong here? Did you steal a car or not?”

  “Of course not,” he said. “Heck, I’m only thirteen. I can’t drive. This whole thing is a big misunderstanding.”

  “Then what happened?” I asked.

  Evan got up and walked to the window—or rather where a window was supposed to be. His was boarded up as well.

  “I have this cousin—Tommy—who’s always getting into trouble. He lives in Ohio. He got suspended from school about a week ago, so he and his mom—my aunt Penelope—came to visit us for a few days. I guess she figured a change of scenery might do him some good.” He forced a laugh. “Yeah, right. The kid’s a loser. He’s only sixteen, and he’s been in jail a half dozen times.”

  “Let me guess,” I said. “He stole the car, and you were just along for the ride?”

  “I didn’t even know it was stolen,” he said. He slapped at one of the boards on the window. “So, get this—a couple of nights ago, Tommy disappears. An hour later, he drives up to the house in this red Mustang convertible.”

  “And you weren’t suspicious?”

  “I guess I should have been,” he said. “But he told me he had just come from a car dealer and he was test-driving it. That was possible, right?”

  I wasn’t sure if Evan was dumb or just naïve. “Listen, what dealer in his right mind is gonna let a sixteen-year-old kid drive off the showroom floor in a new car? Alone?”

  “I know,” he said. “It sounds bad now. And I guess I knew something wasn’t right. But, for Pete’s sake, it was a Mustang. And it was a convertible.”

  “And so that’s how you got here, huh?”

  “Well, yeah, but I’m not a thief or anything,” he said.

  “I guess the only crime you’re guilty of is…poor judgment,” I said.

  Evan sat back down on the bed. “I can’t argue with that—but I don’t belong in a place like this, that’s for sure.”

  “So where’s your cousin now?” I asked. “Is he here too?”

  Evan shook his head and sighed. “Nope. When the cops ran his name through the computer, they found an outstanding warrant for him back in Ohio. They’re holding him until the Cleveland police come to pick him up. I told you he was bad news.”

  “Don’t worry about that now,” I said. “Let’s just focus on finding a way for all of us to get out of here…safely.”

  Evan smiled and nodded. “I’m for that.” It was the first time I had seen him smile since I had met him.

  “Okay,” I said. “I need you to help me get past those guards out there. First I want you—”

  Evan grabbed my arm and squeezed it. There were sounds—voices—coming from the hallway. I pressed my ear up against the door to try to make out what was being said.

  “What is it?” Evan said.

  “Shhh,” I said. I recognized the voice. It was the same guy who had given me the orange jumpsuit an hour or so ago. I heard him opening doors and saying something to the residents. He was getting louder, and he was headed this way. I needed to disappear—and fast. “You have to hide me,” I told Evan.

  Evan looked around the room. “Where?”

  This was going to be a challenge. I couldn’t hide behind the door because it opened up the other way—into the hallway. There was no closet. And with my physique, I knew that I’d never be able to fit under the cot. We could now both hear the voice coming our way. He had to be at the room next to us. I grabbed the cot and dragged it across the room and up against the dresser. That created a small spot in the corner. I climbed over the cot and crouched down in the corner.

  “Do me a favor,” I said. “Throw your towel and anything else you’ve got over me.”

  Evan grabbed his towel and laid it on top of me. He did his best to cover my entire body. Then he picked up the clothes he was wearing when he came here and tossed them on top. I could only hope it would just look like a pile of dirty clothes.

  I could hear a key being inserted into the lock and the door being opened. I held my breath.

  “Evan Wright?” the voice said.

  “Yes, sir,” Evan replied.

  “In a couple of minutes, you’ll hear a loud buzzer. When that happens, leave your room and proceed—in complete silence, I might add—out of Repentance Hall, across the field, and over to the mess hall for dinner. At no time will you speak to anyone. Is that understood?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  I didn’t hear anything for a few seconds. I was praying that the camp guard wasn’t standing there looking in my direction and getting suspicious. I closed my eyes and remained perfectly still.

  “Charlie?” Evan said. “The coast is clear. He’s gone. You can come out now.”

  “Just to be safe,” I said, “since that door’s open, I think I’ll stay right here until the buzzer goes off. If I come out now and that guy walks by again, it’s all over.”

  “You’re probably right.”

  Less than a minute later, this long, loud, annoying, shrill-pitched buzzer signaled that dinner was being served.

  “Hey, Evan,” I said from underneath the towel and clothes, “can you look in the hallway and make sure it’s safe for me to come out?”

  “Okay,” he said. And then seconds later, “Looks good, c’mon.”

  I threw off the covering and stood up. I had a pain in my back from bending over all that time. A minute later, Evan and I emerged from the room. I couldn’t help but notice a couple of the other kids looking at us funny. They were probably wondering why two people had come out of the same room. I just hoped that no one would get nosy and decide to speak up.

  As we strolled down the hallway, I made it a point to act in a nonchalant manner. I couldn’t draw any attention to myself. We walked out the main entrance and began to cross a large field. I was beginning to feel fairly confident that none of the officials at the camp had detected that I had come out of Evan’s room. We slowly merged into a group of kids headed to the mess hall. We were blending in beautifully now. I was feeling a little cocky at that moment. And who wouldn’t? I had made a successful escape on my own and was on the verge of solving yet another case—or so I thought.

  I soon felt these large, bony fingers digging into my shoulder. It was the guard who had released us from our rooms minutes before.

  “Cunningham? Chase Cunningham?” he said.

  I almost didn’t recognize the alias I had used. “Um, yes, can I help you?”

  He pulled me to the side away from the others. “You’re in big trouble, fella. You weren’t in your room when I came by. Where were you? And how did you get out?”

  “Whoa, wait a minute,” I said. “You got things all wrong.
I didn’t sneak out or anything. Another guy, dressed just like you, came by and opened it up. He told me to come down for dinner.”

  The guard appeared skeptical. “Another guy? Impossible. I’m the only one who unlocks those doors.”

  “Well, then you better check with the rest of the staff,” I said. “’Cause somebody else was doing your job for you.”

  The young guard scratched his head. I wasn’t sure if he actually believed my story, but I could tell that he was at least considering my version of it.

  “All right, get in there with the others. But I plan to check with some of the staff members. And if I find out you’re lying to me, I certainly wouldn’t want to be in your shoes. The colonel knows how to handle deceivers.”

  I didn’t like the way that sounded, but I figured that if I could wrap up this case before camp personnel found out what really had happened, then maybe it wouldn’t matter. I worked my way through the crowd and looked for Evan. Apparently the chosen ones, the kids from Resurrection Hall, weren’t finished eating yet. They were still seated at tables waiting to be released.

  Evan pointed at the kids sitting in the mess hall. “Get a load of that meal,” he whispered. “It looks like steak, a double-baked potato, and sweet corn.” He looked around to make sure he wasn’t overheard. “Maybe this place isn’t so bad.”

  A minute later, the buzzer sounded and the kids from the first shift got up and carried their trays to a conveyor belt on the far wall.

  I carefully watched the group as they exited. They weren’t in orange prison jumpsuits like the rest of us. They were in normal clothes—but really nice normal clothes. Most wore designer jeans and had on expensive-looking boots or running shoes. I wondered what a person would have to do to make it into that group. Was there some test you had to pass? An obstacle course maybe? Or just put in hours and hours of hard labor? I was anxious to make the transition but figured I wouldn’t be here long enough to find out.

  And then, near the end of the line, I spotted Josh. I worked my way over to where the line was passing by us. I was no more than about four or five feet away from them. I tried to make eye contact with him. I wasn’t really sure if he’d recognize me since he had only seen me a couple of times before today, but I hoped he might. When it was clear that our eyes would not meet, I decided to break one of the camp commandments.

  “Josh,” I said under my breath as he approached me.

  He glanced up and stared at me for a few seconds, then looked away. A bunch of the kids began to move away from me. Apparently no one wanted to have anything to do with someone who dared to speak.

  I was certain that Josh had recognized me. But for whatever reason, he refused to acknowledge me. I had to do something. I couldn’t waste this opportunity. I got as close to him as I possibly could and tried to keep pace with him as he passed through the lobby.

  “Josh, it’s me, Charlie Collier. I’m a friend of Sherman’s.”

  With the mention of his brother, Josh stopped abruptly but still maintained his silence.

  “I’ve been sent here to find you and bring you home,” I said. “Your family’s really worried about you.”

  Josh looked around nervously. He seemed uncomfortable about having a conversation with so many people around.

  “Listen,” he said under his breath. “I can’t talk to you right now. I have to go.”

  “But wait,” I said. “What should I tell Sherman? And your mom?”

  “Tell ’em I’m fine. Tell them that I’ll get in touch with them when I have a chance.” Josh hesitated. “Just tell ’em not to worry.” And with that, he was gone.

  I thought it best not to try to follow him. The camp authorities already had a reason to keep an eye on me. I couldn’t give them another one. The group from Repentance Hall began to move from the lobby into the mess hall. Kids were grabbing the first seats they saw. There apparently were no seating assignments. I spotted Evan and made my way over to his table. There was an open spot next to him.

  “What were you doing out there?” he said. “Are you crazy?”

  “That was the guy I came here to find. I had to talk to him.”

  “Well, you’d better not let anyone catch you doing that again,” he said.

  Clearly Evan was the cautious type. He seemed like someone who didn’t like to make waves. I, on the other hand, was on a mission. When I took on an assignment, I had an obligation to do everything in my power to guarantee a successful outcome. Private detectives like Sam Solomon didn’t have time to worry about the consequences. The same applied to me. We had made a commitment to the client and nothing, including bodily harm, would stop us. If the colonel or any of his storm troopers got tough with me, I was prepared. It was all part of the job. Like in Episode #31—The Rack on Tour Caper.

  In this particular mystery, Sam found himself stretched a bit too thin—literally. Sam had been hired by a museum curator who asked him to investigate the recent disappearance of several rare artifacts from the museum. Following his investigation, Sam discovered that an antiques collector who had brought a traveling exhibit to the museum was the real culprit. The suspect was demonstrating a torture device used in the Middle Ages—the rack. When Sam confronted him, the private eye wasn’t expecting a tussle, but that’s exactly what he got. He was overpowered by his enemy and soon found himself a permanent part of the exhibit—strapped to the rack. I won’t give away the ending, but let’s just say that following his escape, Sam discovered that he was two inches taller than he had been before the adventure.

  So, if Sam could withstand a little discomfort, why should it be any different for me? If things were to get a little physical, then that would be just fine. I’d been around the block a few times. If trouble was lurking around the corner, just let it show its ugly head. I wasn’t afraid of—

  I stopped in mid-thought. I listened to myself for a minute. What the heck was I saying? I had to be completely honest with myself—a confrontation was the last thing on my wish list. If I somehow managed to locate Josh and convinced him to leave the compound with me and if I could do so without any physical altercations, I would be thrilled. I was Charlie Collier, Snoop for Hire. I wasn’t Sam Solomon. Who was I kidding anyway?

  CHAPTER 19

  The Lyin’ Tamer Caper

  It wasn’t long before we were all seated and our dinners were placed before us. Unfortunately the meals we were now staring at in no way resembled the feast that the last group had enjoyed. The steak, double-baked potato, and sweet corn had been replaced by soupy mashed potatoes, cold green beans, and a piece of tough, fatty mystery meat. Appetizing, this was not.

  “I take back what I said earlier,” Evan muttered under his breath. “The sooner you can get us out of here, the better.”

  The expressions on the faces of the other dinner guests ranged from shock to disappointment to outright disgust. The colonel had made a real statement with this menu. And it was loud and clear—we were anything but camp favorites. Some of the kids played with their food, others pushed it away, but amazingly, a few devoured it. I guess it had a lot to do with how hungry you were—and what you were used to at home. I don’t ever remember thinking that my mom was a master chef, but after this experience, I made a pledge right there and then to appreciate her cooking and to let her know it.

  Our attention was suddenly drawn to a commotion at the far end of the hall. I stood to see what was happening. I spotted about a dozen or so camp personnel dressed in army fatigues making their way into the mess hall. Positioned directly in the middle of the group was Colonel Culpepper. You couldn’t miss him. He was decked out in full military dress blues—with a chest full of ribbons and medals. He marched to the center of the room, where someone handed him a microphone.

  “Good evening, gentlemen, and welcome to Camp Phoenix. I hope you’re finding the accommodations satisfactory.”

  I wasn’t sure if he was actually serious or if he was just toying with us. It was hard to tell. He was expressionles
s.

  “I suggest that you get a good night’s sleep,” he continued, “because tomorrow promises to be a day you will never forget.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Evan whispered.

  I shrugged.

  “Our goal,” the colonel said, “is to break you of your bad habits and to reintroduce you into society as contributing members of your community. When you leave Camp Phoenix, you will no longer be referred to as thieves, thugs, vandals, or the like. You will be welcomed back with open arms.”

  Considering the fact that the room was filled with undesirables—the bad kids in town—I found it was amazing just how quiet everyone had become. Colonel Harvard Culpepper had either earned the respect of the group or he had instilled fear in them. I wasn’t quite sure yet which it was.

  “You may have noticed,” he said, “that the living quarters here at the compound are in what we might refer to as a dichotomous state.”

  “Huh?” Evan said.

  “He means that there’s a big difference between this hall and the one across the road,” I said. Besides Evan, I noticed a bunch of the kids had confused looks on their faces. Every so often, I was thankful that I had religiously studied my vocab words each week.

  “This is,” the colonel said with his arms raised, “Repentance Hall. The name says it all. You are here to pay for your sins. And, so, beginning tomorrow, you will start off with a regimen of toil and travail befitting the miscreants you are.”

  Evan tapped me on the arm and shrugged. He needed another translation.

  “You don’t want to know,” I said.

  Culpepper spun around, put a finger to his lips, and smiled. “But there is another way,” he said.

  The mess hall became eerily quiet.

  “You could find yourselves on the fast track to Resurrection Hall and avoid all of these unpleasantries. But in order to do that, you’d have to have the right stuff. You’d have to have character and initiative. And you’d have to pledge your allegiance to this institution. Is there anyone in this room willing to make that sacrifice?”