Strawberry Summer

by Cynthia Blair

  She shivered, then told herself that she was just being silly. But as she sprinted through the woods, she kept her eyes straight ahead, on the bright lights of the stage that was a few hundred feet ahead of her. It was as if not looking around too much would keep her from seeing anything she didn’t really want to see.

  By the time she reached the backstage area, her heart was pounding and her cheeks were flushed bright red. It was deserted except for Susan, Richard, and Sam, since the other counselors had joined the audience after completing their performances.

  “Chris, what’s wrong?” Susan demanded the instant she laid eyes on her twin. She grabbed her by the shoulders.

  “You look as if you just saw a ghost!” Richard added. “You didn’t ... did you?”

  “I’m not sure what I saw. In fact, I’m not even sure if I saw anything at all!”

  Quickly, Chris related what had happened. Now that she was with the others, however, the whole thing sounded a bit foolish. After she finished, she added lamely, “But now I have a feeling I just imagined it all. Probably just some weird manifestation of stage fright. After all, I spent a long time just standing there in the dark, all alone, waiting to go on. That could make anybody see things!”

  Susan and Richard pretended to agree. But all three of them suspected that Chris really had seen something. As for what that something was ... well, this was hardly the time to wonder about it.

  Sam was already introducing their act in her enthusiastic mistress of ceremonies voice.

  “And now, for our final act of the evening. Here’s something we’re sure will impress and entertain you—even those of you who insist that you don’t really believe in magic! The counselors’ variety show is pleased to present ... the Great Ricardo!”

  “Break a leg!” Chris whispered hoarsely. Then she climbed into the false bottom of one of the two huge wooden packing crates on wheels that were among the props the three of them had spent the week building.

  Richard and Susan paraded on stage, amid a burst of wild applause and cheers. Behind them they towed the two crates.

  Accompanied by a recording of eerie-sounding music with an energetic beat, Richard opened the crates, one at a time, to show the attentive audience that they were empty. Chris, crouched in the bottom of one of them, listened carefully for her cue. She could tell that Susan had just gotten into the other one. She heard Richard slam them both shut, then hammer a few nails into each with a great flourish.

  “Hokus-pokus, Pinewood-okus!” Richard bellowed, passing his magic wand over both crates. Hastily Chris punched out the thin “ceiling” that had kept her out of view, and struck a relaxed pose. By the time Richard pried open her crate, she was lounging in the middle of it, grinning as if she hadn’t a care in the world.

  The campers were astounded. She heard some of them actually gasp in surprise. It was a great feeling, being part of an act like this, one that the kids were finding so enthralling.

  Chris climbed out of the crate and helped Richard push the two crates together. It was time for him to “saw her in half.” When she got back in, it was her head and arms that stuck out of the hole on the side—but it was Susan’s feet that extended out the other end.

  Richard went on to do a few more tricks, those that didn’t involve the twins. Chris was playing the role of assistant, while poor Susan remained tucked away in one of the crates.

  She’s going to be stiff tomorrow! Chris thought ruefully. But she kept a big smile plastered on her face—as any stage performer would, she reasoned.

  By the time the Great Ricardo performed his final trick—putting his assistant behind a curtain, then making her disappear, only to reappear at the back of the theater—the campers were spellbound. They cheered and yelled so loudly as Richard and Susan took their final bows that they could no doubt be heard all the way across Lake Majestic. The magician and his assistant wore huge smiles of triumph as they stood onstage amidst an enthusiastic response.

  Meanwhile, Chris was backstage, enjoying their act’s success from the sidelines. She knew that she, too, should be lost in the excitement of the moment. But something was nagging at her.... Oh, yes. The mysterious “happening” of fifteen minutes or so earlier. It was still troubling her. And she knew that it would continue to trouble her until she found out what was behind it.

  If anything, she reminded herself. It’s possible that you really did imagine the whole thing.

  For the moment, however, she was determined to put it out of her mind. Susan and Richard were gleeful over the success of the evening’s performance, and she didn’t want to spoil their fun.

  “You two were terrific!” said Chris as they joined her backstage.

  “You were, too, Chris!”

  “Susan’s right; we couldn’t have done it without you!” Richard grinned. “Now, how about us going over to the dining hall for some punch and cake, or whatever the Reeds have got lined up for us? I don’t know about you, but I’m parched! Being a star is a lot of work!”

  “Can’t wait,” said Chris. “Let me just change my clothes and get my story straight about how I was just released from the infirmary minutes ago, I’ll meet you there as soon as I can.”

  One thing’s for sure, she thought as she watched Susan and Richard join the throngs of counselors and campers who were slowly making their way toward the dining hall, chattering away excitedly about the performance they’d just seen. I’m going to get changed and join the others as fast as I can. After tonight, I have no intention of wandering around Camp Pinewood alone at night! Not as long as I keep seeing things!

  Certain she was breaking the world’s speed record for changing clothes, Chris pulled off her costume and climbed into a pair of jeans and a T-shirt.

  Chapter Nine

  As she hurried into the dining hall, dressed in her jeans and all her makeup scrubbed off, Chris saw that Susan and Richard were already enjoying “star treatment.” Campers crowded around them as if they were celebrities. There was real electricity in the air as the kids begged to know more about the act—especially how they had managed to carry off all those impressive tricks. The magic act had easily been the hit of the entire show.

  “But how did you do it?” little Lucy Kramer was demanding in her wheedling tone. “I never took my eyes off the stage, and I still don’t know how you got from one crate to the other!”

  “Maybe that really is a magic wand!” said Maggie, her eyes big and round with wonderment. “Is it, Richard?”

  “Professional secret!” With a wink, Richard draped his arm around Susan’s shoulders. “Neither I nor my assistant and co-conspirator here will ever tell.”

  Just then, he noticed that Chris had come in. “Hey, look who’s here! It’s Chris! Feeling better?” he asked loudly.

  “A lot better,” Chris replied in the same loud voice. “All I needed was a day’s rest in the infirmary. I’m almost as good as new.”

  “Oooh, too bad you had to miss the show!” said Maggie with surprising sympathy.

  “Yes, too bad,” Chris agreed, looking as disappointed as she could. “So how was it, anyway?”

  A dozen campers crowded around her, anxious to describe in the greatest detail all the acts they had just seen onstage.

  By the time she managed to break away from them, explaining that she still wasn’t quite herself yet, Chris really did need a cold drink. She headed for the punch bowl, noticing that a huge cake had been cut up into slices on the next table. That, she decided, would be her next stop.

  But as she stood in front of the giant punch bowl, she suddenly grew aware that someone was standing very close to her.

  “Feeling better, Chris?”

  It was Alan, she was pleased to see. “I’m fine now. Guess I just needed a rest.” She wished she could tell him the truth. “How about you, though?” Her voice suddenly softened. “I understand something went wrong with those chairs you rented.”

  “Yeah. Another ‘mystery,’ I’m afraid. A whole shedful of
chairs: now you see them, now you don’t. More hokus-pokus than I saw in your sister’s magic act.”

  “Oh, so you caught our act!” interrupted Richard, having heard only the end of their conversation. “What did you think? Are we ready for Broadway? Las Vegas? Hollywood?”

  “Actually, I was pretty impressed,” Alan admitted. “One of these days you’ll have to explain to me how you managed to do those tricks.”

  “I think I have an idea,” said Chris teasingly. “And I promise to tell you all about it the very first chance I get.”

  When the punchbowl was empty and even the most gung-ho of campers was getting drowsy, the party was pronounced over. Reluctant to have the evening end, the twins prepared to head back to their cabin.

  “Hey, you’re not going to sleep already, are you?” asked Richard.

  “Sorry, but the glittering lights have taken their toll,” Susan said with a laugh. “I’m wiped out. Even my creaky old cot is beginning to sound inviting.”

  Alan took Chris’s hand. “Well, at least let us walk you home.”

  “Good idea,” Richard agreed. “Then I can use my magic wand to scare away the ghosts you saw before, Chris.”

  “What ghosts?” Suddenly, Alan was very serious.

  “Oh, it was nothing. At least, I think it was nothing. I was, um, a few hundred feet away from everybody else earlier tonight, during the show— actually, right by the arts and crafts building. And, well ... I know it sounds silly now, but ...”

  “It doesn’t sound silly at all. What did you see, Chris?”

  “Well ... I’m not really sure. Just some kind of movement. Something white, moving behind the trees. And I heard something, too. A footstep or a branch breaking ... really, it could have been anything.”

  “It probably was nothing,” Alan said uneasily. “Just the same, I think I’ll mention it to my folks, if you don’t mind.”

  The foursome headed up the path, toward Cabin Four. Dozens of others were also streaming uphill, joking and laughing as they went back to their cabins after an exhilarating evening. Still, they were among the last to straggle home. Behind them was nothing but silence and the blackness of night.

  Suddenly, Richard stopped. He gripped Susan’s arm tightly. “Wait a second. What was that?”

  “I didn’t hear anything.” Nervously, Susan looked around. “What did it sound like?”

  “I’m not sure ... maybe it was nothing. It’s just that all of a sudden I had this creepy feeling that we were being followed.”

  “Wish I’d brought along a flashlight,” Chris muttered. She was aware of how dark it was in the woods, especially since the lights of the dining hall, far behind them, had just been turned off. And the four of them must have been walking slowly, because everyone else seemed to have moved on way ahead.

  They were totally alone.

  “I heard it again! “This time Richard’s voice was a whisper. They all stood frozen, listening, unable to move. “Do you think we’re being followed?”

  “Naw, that’s ridiculous.” But the expression on Alan’s face, totally drained of blood, said that he didn’t really think it was ridiculous at all.

  They stood still for a full minute—but heard nothing. It was Chris who finally broke the silence.

  “Listen, I think that instead of running away, we should go after whoever’s following us. Or whoever’s hiding in the woods.”

  “You mean now?” Richard gulped. “In the dark?”

  His fearfulness made her even braver. “For heaven’s sake! How on earth will we ever get to the bottom of this if we don’t take the bull by the horns and go after whoever it is who’s doing all these things to Camp Pinewood?”

  “Chris is right,” Susan agreed. “We can’t just run away.”

  “Okay,” said Alan. “If that’s how everybody feels, why don’t we break up into two couples and take a quick look around? This area isn’t that big. If there really is somebody hiding in the woods right now, we should have no trouble finding him.”

  Richard was all ready to ask, But what do we do if we find him? when the four of them heard a loud noise that made them all jump.

  “Somebody just slammed a car door,” said Alan. “Whoever was here is now on his way out.”

  “Let’s follow him!” cried Chris. “Quick, where’s the pickup truck?”

  Alan led the way. The others followed him, hanging on to one another to keep from tripping over a stone or the root of a tree in the unfamiliar darkness. They scrambled into the track—Alan and Chris in the cab, Susan and Richard in back.

  “Leave the lights off,” Chris warned as Alan turned the key in the ignition. For once, the battered old truck started right up. “That way, they won’t realize they’re being followed.”

  “Hey, you’re pretty clever, you know that?”

  Chris laughed nervously. “I’ve seen a lot of detective stories in the movies. Plus I’ve read every Nancy Drew mystery ever written!”

  Alan’s pickup hurried along the dirt road for a few hundred feet. He had an advantage over anyone else driving that road; every square inch, every dip and pothole, was familiar to him. Even with only the light of the moon and the stars to help him see, he managed to maneuver his truck quickly and with ease. Before long, they spotted a car up ahead.

  “There he is!” Chris whispered hoarsely. “He’s turning right, onto the main road. Let’s follow him! But stay back, so he can’t see us.”

  “I’ll have to turn on the headlights... .”

  “I know. But hopefully he’ll think we’re just another car, traveling this road behind him.”

  Alan drove slowly, staying a few car lengths behind. The other car neither speeded up nor slowed down—a good sign, Chris concluded. He didn’t seem to suspect that he was being followed.

  Then he signaled a right turn and eased off the road. Chris leaned forward in her seat, peering through the windshield.

  “What’s that? Where is he stopping?”

  Alan groaned—then laughed. “We’re out of luck, I’m afraid. That happens to be the Okie-Dokie Inn, our neighborhood tavern. Unless you’re willing to go inside, I’m afraid this is where our chase has to end.”

  Sure enough, as they drove by, Chris saw that it was indeed a restaurant and bar. And given the dozen or so cars parked in front, it was impossible to tell which car was the one they’d been following.

  “Dead end,” she sighed. “Might as well turn around and go home.”

  As Alan drove into the parking lot, Chris took a closer look at the Okie-Dokie Inn. It was a seedy-looking establishment, really a small white-shingled house with peeling brown shutters that had been converted into a tavern. A red neon sign advertising one particular brand of beer blinked on and off in its main window. There was something sad about that little roadside inn, Chris thought.

  But as Alan put the truck in reverse, preparing to back out of the parking lot once again, his headlights passed over another building, right behind the Okie-Dokie. It shared the same parking lot—yet she hadn’t noticed it before. It was long and flat, with several separate entrances, like a motel. They reminded her of doctors’ offices, or one of those buildings that housed small businesses. What was most interesting, however, was the fact that for one brief second, Alan’s lights illuminated what looked like a man.

  A man who was wearing a white shirt.

  Chris glanced at Alan, wanting to see if he, too, noticed the man headed toward one of the doorways in the office building. But he seemed intent on studying the rear-view mirror as he backed out, onto the main road.

  Something stopped Chris from saying anything to him. Instead, she decided to keep her observation to herself—at least for now.

  And then, all of a sudden, he said, “I’m kind of glad we lost that guy, Chris. We don’t know who he was or what he wanted.... He could even be dangerous. I know we all got caught up in the moment back there, but from now on I think we should leave the sleuthing to people who know what they’re doing.
I’ll tell my parents we spotted a trespasser and that we followed him here. Maybe they’ll just let it pass ... or maybe they’ll call in the police. But this kind of thing is definitely out of my league.”

  Chris knew then that she had made the right decision. Alan was probably right; he wasn’t the one to do the “sleuthing.” No, it was something that should be left to the experts. To the masterminds. Those clever people who could put their heads together and outsmart the bad guys.

  She made a firm resolution then. She and Susan would get started on it first thing the very next day.

  Chapter Ten

  Later that night, when all the lights around camp were out and Sam and Linda’s even breathing indicated that they were both sound asleep, Chris called a powwow with her twin.

  “Sooz, we have to talk,” she announced, careful to keep her voice low enough that their cabinmates wouldn’t wake up.

  “I had a feeling you’d suggest that sooner or later.”

  The two girls were lying in their cots, pushed together so that they could talk softly and still hear each other. Outside the cabin, the night was black and silent, broken only by the occasional glimmer of a firefly and the rhythmic chirping of crickets.

  “What did you think of our little ‘chase’ tonight?”

  Susan thought only for a second. “First of all, I think the man we caught lurking in the woods and then making a quick getaway in his car probably had something to do with the disappearing chairs. And possibly some—or all—of the other things that have gone on around here during the last few summers.”

  “I agree,” Chris interjected. “I mean, I don’t think he was just somebody who happened to wander into Camp Pinewood for the evening. For one thing, he seemed to know his way around a little too well.”

  “Right. Besides, he must have hidden his car behind some trees or something. Otherwise, Mr. Reed or Alan or somebody would have realized sooner that he was hanging around.”