Camp Lac Igam
Book 1
The Fossegrimen Folly
By Michael Almich
Published by Michael Almich at Smashwords
Copyright 2012 Michael Almich
Cover Design Copyright 2012
by (http://DigitalDonna.Com)
Shy's Map, Copyright 2012
Erich Fritz Fine Art
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or to events or locations is entirely coincidental.
Dedication
This book is dedicated to the four precious "ems" in my life: Melissa, Madi, Michael, and Maverick.
Shoot for your dreams kids, and don't wait as long as Dad did.
I love you all dearly.
Camp Lac Igam
Book 1
The Fossegrimen Folly
Table of Contents
Chapter One: "You can."
Chapter Two: "… no carving on the tables!"
Chapter Three: "I thought I heard… music,"
Chapter Four: "It was a troll, although I didn’t know it then."
Chapter Five: "He’s just a bully…"
Chapter Six: "It’s a form of fairy Glamour, boy."
Chapter Seven: "Sure you know what I am. I see. I know."
Chapter Eight: "I can see through the Glamour sometimes"
Chapter Nine: "Well, I did hear a story once about that."
Chapter Ten: "Huldra! She's a huldra!"
Chapter Eleven: "Treasure seekers beware!"
Chapter Twelve: To uncover that which is hidden.
Chapter Thirteen: "The recipe is power."
Chapter Fourteen: It was good to have friends.
Chapter Fifteen: "On your mark… get set… GO!"
Chapter Sixteen: "We WILL find it."
Chapter Seventeen: Epilogue
Shy's Map
Guide to pronunciation
About the author
Connect online
Chapter One:
"You can."
As Shy’s head bounced on the vinyl covered backrest of the old school bus, he remembered the events of the past week. He had been looking forward to summer… to playing with Shep, his big, black Newfoundland dog. The two of them would have spent the summer exploring the woods behind the house, playing some video games, and basically taking a vacation from worrying about Crutch and his gang of bullies from school. Unfortunately, his dream of aimlessly wandering through the long summer days abruptly came crashing down around him the morning of the last day of school. That is when his mother had sprung her surprise.
She told him he would be going to summer camp. Before Shy could begin to argue, she also told him that his father had agreed that it would be for the best. Shy’s parents had not agreed on anything since he was eight years old, and that was just when they had agreed that they were getting divorced! Now, they both thought that sending him to some stupid summer camp in Northern Minnesota for two months was for the best. He didn't care how beautiful Lac Igam Summer Camp was supposed to be. He didn't care that the brochure said he would make friends. He had a friend. Man's best friend. Shep was always there for him, he always listened. Shy’s eyes started to tear up when he thought about Shep waiting on the front porch of the old farmhouse that Shy’s mom now rented for them. It was so unfair.
A particularly large bump bounced Shy’s eyes open, and he snuck a peek at his seatmate, Claire. She was twelve, a year older than Shy, and she let him know it every chance she got. By all accounts, Claire was a know-it-all. She lived down the road and even though she was extremely bossy, she was the only one that Shy really counted as a friend. She was sitting quietly now, reading a book, but she had lectured Shy on the camp rules for the first half-hour of the bus ride. He heard about how electronics and cell phones were not allowed. He heard about how they were not to go off in the woods by themselves. He heard plenty. She had kept on talking even after Shy leaned his head back and closed his eyes, but eventually she got the hint. Bossy or not, Shy thought to himself, she did stick up for him the first time he had a run-in with Crutch McFarlane. He winced as he thought of the incident, and adjusted his head back on the seat again. He didn’t want to call up that memory.
***
Shy woke with a start as he felt the old bus pull up to a stop. It had been a long ride. He opened his eyes as the other children chattered excitedly, and jumped out of their seats. He took a deep breath and forced himself fully awake. Claire had her book clutched to her chest and was bobbing on her tiptoes in the aisle, to try to see out the windows of the other side of the bus. In fact, Shy noticed as he also rose from his seat, all the kids were looking out the other window. He fought for a glimpse, but try as he might, he could not see.
Soon, he found himself jostled up the aisle of the bus toward the exit. As he turned to the open bi-fold bus doors, he cast a quick glance toward the bus driver Gust. Surprisingly Gust was looking keenly at Shy, and when their eyes met, he gave a quick wink then turned back to the wheel of the bus. The glance had cost Shy, and he nearly tumbled off the steps of the bus.
As he landed awkwardly on the gravel, Shy bumped into Claire. She proceeded to give him a disapproving glance. She could only spare a second to glare at him, though, because her eyes were drawn back to what lay before them. Shy rose and looked over her shoulder to what was the most imposing, majestic sight he had ever seen. The camp brochure his mother had given him had described the camp as "a serene lodge, nestled in the wooded hills above Lake Superior." It was an understatement. A virtual mountain rose above a mist shrouded gorge. There, nestled in a mixed copse of pine and maple, on the hillside, was a large log lodge. Between the bus and the mountainside, lay the wide gorge with the roaring of an unknown river running through it. The source of the river, and the heavy mist covering the gorge, appeared to be a gigantic waterfall, far in the distance to the north. The only way across this river gorge was a rope bridge that stretched from the roadside to just below the lodge. It was just like you would see in an adventure movie, Shy thought.
Above the entrance onto the rope bridge was a wooden sign, held upright by two huge logs that had creepy creature faces carved into them. It was very much like pictures of totem poles that Shy had seen, except the faces seemed to be focused on the visitors, as if in warning. The sign read, CAMP LAC IGAM, in faded white letters. The whole scene had a very magical feel. Every kid there was gaping, Shy noticed as he surveyed the group of campers.
The old bus gunned its engine, and the children jumped. It began to pull away, just as a second bus pulled up. The doors opened on the second bus, and out pushed none other than Crutch McFarlane himself, followed by one of his cronies from school. Shy couldn’t believe his bad luck. One of the few good points of going to this camp, to Shy, had been that he would be free from Crutch's harassment. Now his heart sank, and he slunk into the rear of the pack of kids, hoping he would not be noticed. He backed right into Gust, the bus driver, who had silently reappeared after parking the first bus.
Shy was surprised by the wiry resistance in the old man as he prevented Shy from completing his disappearing act. Gust did not let Shy back up any f
urther. In fact, he sort of shuffled Shy back towards Crutch, as if to force a confrontation. Claire, as usual was organizing and bossing several other campers.
Crutch completely ignored Claire, glanced at the rope bridge, decided he was bored with the view, and turned to decide whom he was going to pick on for the next day or so. That is when his eyes locked on Shy. At this point, Shy knew he was in trouble. Crutch stalked over with bad intentions plastered on his ugly, broad, freckled face. Shy braced for the impact that he knew was coming.
Just as the outstretched palms of the bully were about to make contact with Shy’s chest, he felt himself jerked sideways. Shy caught a glimpse of a long, lanky blue jeaned leg sliding back behind him. Gust had pulled Shy out of the way, and simultaneously tripped Crutch! Shy didn’t have time to really comprehend what had happened, or ask the old man why he had helped, before all the kids were laughing at the beefy ten year old boy who had tumbled head-first into a puddle in the red gravel. Crutch stood up, dripping red muck from his whole front side. He focused his eyes like a laser on Shy. The beefy, freckle-faced, with the redheaded crew cut balled his fists, and Shy was sure he could see smoke steaming from Crutch’s ears.
Crutch began to step toward Shy, but just then a very stern looking woman wearing her hair up in a bun stepped between them and said loudly, "Oh my…. We already have our first wet one… Come with me young man."
As she dragged Crutch onto the rope bridge and out of sight into the mist, the other children laughed again at his protestations and useless struggle to break free from her iron-fisted grip. The last thing Shy heard him say was "I’ll get you pansy…"
Gust startled the two busloads of children out of their laughter when he yelled through a megaphone, "All right campers, one at a time… just line up… single file now… that’s right."
Four young people that Shy assumed were the camp counselors followed Gust as he led the children across the rope bridge. His mother had told him that a counselor, probably a college student working for the summer, would staff each cabin. The unremarkable foursome was made up of two young men and two young women. One girl stood out of the group due to her hair that was a mix of purple, bright pink, and neon green. One of the male counselors was watching Shy as Gust tried to organize the campers. When he saw Shy had noticed him, he looked away and said something to the girl with the hair. She smiled, put her arm around him, and they moved onto the bridge ahead of the campers.
The trip across the rope bridge was much less eventful than in the movies. No natives were standing on the other side with arrows and spears, no maniac bad guy sliced the last frayed strands of the rope, and no one fell to their death amongst sharp rocks and crocodiles. The group of children simply followed the lanky old man with the white handlebar mustache, across the mist quietly to the other side. The only thing that seemed strange to Shy was, about midway across the bridge, he thought he could hear distant laughter trailing off far below. It almost sounded like the mournful call of a loon that one could hear on many Minnesota lakes. The sound made him shiver. He glanced back at Claire, but there was no look of recognition on her face, so he chalked it up to his imagination.
Once they reached the other side of the gorge, the counselors each chose a different location and began to call out names. The counselor with the multicolored dyed hair stood on a tall tree stump and rattled off girl names. Shy heard Claire's name called, and saw her bouncing off in that direction. Somehow, through all the shouting, Shy heard his full name called, and cringed.
His parents named him Shylock because it was a name from a Shakespearean play. Shy had done some reading, though, and was not very proud of his vengeful namesake in the play, "A Merchant of Venice." He turned around just in time to hear the average looking young man call his name a second time. He cringed again and quickly made his way over to the rock where the counselor was standing. Shy thought he looked to be around nineteen or twenty years old. After the boy made eye contact with Shy, he glanced back down at his paper list and moved on to calling the next name. Shy studied the young man as he stood next to the big rock. He was the very same counselor that had been staring at Shy before they crossed the bridge. There was really nothing noteworthy about him beyond the half smile that he carried on his face. He was not good looking, nor muscular, nor tall, but he nonetheless exuded a calm, confident aura.
Soon all of the campers had been split up into two groups of boys and two groups of girls. Shy was extremely happy to note that Crutch was not in his group. Nervously he scanned the other groups, but did not see Crutch anywhere. He did not have time to dwell on the thought because the counselors were shooing the kids toward their bags that Gust had unloaded from an old, rickety wooden cart.
Shy was surprised that the cart had been able to make it across the rope bridge with all the kids’ bags. It looked as if it could collapse at any moment. Funny, the two seemed to fit together, Shy thought. Gust and the cart did not look like much, but both must be much sturdier than they looked. Shy supposed that if he mentioned it to Claire, she would just lecture him about not judging a book by its cover, or some such. So, he grabbed his bag and headed after his counselor.
The babble of the other groups slowly faded as they lugged their belongings upward, onto the hillside of mixed trees, boulders, and rocky outcroppings. Shy could faintly hear the roaring of the waterfall somewhere in the distance off to his left. After a considerable hike, the counselor turned and motioned for Shy and the other six boys in his group to stop and set down their bags.
"My name is Tad, and I will be your counselor for the next eight weeks. This," he began as he held his arms out wide and turned full circle, "will be your home during your stay here."
The boys looked bewildered. They glanced at each other and then looked nervously around. There was nothing to see, but huge pine trees. Behind them, the view was amazing: they could see back down the hillside with the back corner of the lodge just barely visible in the far distance. Since they were looking downhill, they could even see out onto Lake Superior. They looked back to Tad, and he just smiled.
The silence stretched uncomfortably as they tried to understand what he meant. There was no cabin in sight. Did he mean they would be sleeping outside, Shy wondered. Some of the boys began to whisper amongst themselves, darting nervous glances at Tad. The young counselor simply leaned against an ancient white pine with an unconcerned and confident look on his face. Shy looked around again. The sun was shining above the far away lake, glittering off the blue water. The forest was thicker up here and only random bolts of sunlight broke through the pines. Shy looked upward toward where one bolt of sunlight was streaming through the canopy, and inhaled sharply in surprise. He was loud enough that the other boys took notice of him, and all looked upward as one.
Above them was a carefully camouflaged network of what Shy could only think of as treehouses and platforms, connected by ladders, ropes, planks, and other walkways. Shy was amazed, as were the other boys. He noticed them gaping upward. He looked at Tad, who smiled and winked at him in a knowing way. Shy looked back up. The treehouses were basically invisible unless you were directly underneath them. Branches hid the buildings and walkways from view when you were coming up the hill, or when you were looking in their direction from across the hillside. Even directly beneath them, it was easy for your eyes to slide right past without noticing them. They were very well camouflaged.
"Welcome to the Forest cabins," Tad interrupted their staring. "Like I said, this will be your home for the next eight weeks. I am here to help and assist you, lead you on some adventures, and hopefully, to teach you a few things about life. First things first, though, let’s get your stuff into the cabins. I am about to show you one of the ways up to the cabins. I repeat, this is just one of many you may discover in your time here. But, let me tell you, no matter how many ways you do discover, the rule is, we never divulge our way up to anyone else. None of the other groups can find out. They will probably eventually discover where our cab
ins are, but we cannot let them know how to get in. Got it?" The boys all nodded as one. "You will probably learn where the other groups’ cabins are, but they will also not willingly let you in, or tell you how to get in, unless it is an official visit with one of us counselors along. Alright, grab your gear and follow me." Tad commanded.
They trudged toward the sound of the waterfall, and eventually arrived at a very old, very large pine. It was surrounded on four sides with four slightly smaller, but much more thickly needled pines.
"We call this tree the Sentinel," Tad stated, "because it is so big. Way up top is a lookout platform where we can see the whole camp. This tree serves as the backbone for what I call the Elevator. The Elevator is our method for getting large groups or supplies up into the skyways." As he talked, he herded the seven boys into a large group in the middle of the four smaller trees. He reached into the thick pine branches of one of the trees, and pulled out a hidden rope. Moving back amongst the boys, he began to pull on the rope and an amazing thing happened. Four ropes, also hidden by the pine branches, popped out into the open. Tad pulled on the main rope and the four smaller ropes became taut.
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