by P. J. Night
Or what if, the thought suddenly hit her, he doesn’t even come? What if he gets sick—or just stays home—like he did before?
What if this whole late-night mission was for nothing at all? What if she was stuck out here alone, waiting all night in the dark woods?
She couldn’t bear to think about it, and yet the thought festered in her mind. She didn’t even notice, in fact, when the trail abruptly stopped. The next thing she knew, the trees were gone and there was soft grass beneath her shoes.
She was in the clearing. She had made it. Eagerly she looked around. Her flashlight beam was frail by this time. Her batteries had just about reached the end of their lives. But it didn’t matter, she realized happily as she spotted Dennis Shaw. Even in the darkness the clearing seemed to glow, and Dennis gave off his own supernatural light. His hair shone almost silver, and so did his eyes. They locked on her like lasers as he reached out a hand. She could feel herself moving toward him before the idea even came to her mind. All she could think at the moment was, I did it! I’m really here!
It was a night she knew she’d never forget, no matter how long she lived.
As she got closer, she could see he had a big bouquet of blue flowers, which he held out to her. And then, as if he couldn’t wait a second longer, he ran up and took her hand. She felt a shock and looked down, surprised not to see any actual sparks shoot out.
“You came! I knew you would! I’m so glad!” His face could hardly contain his smile. “Now we can be together forever, at last!” he exclaimed.
He offered her the flowers, and she took them happily, letting her flashlight fall to the ground. She buried her nose in the silky petals and drank in their sweet smell. It’s such a nice change from the mossy musk of the forest, she thought, but a bit overpowering, as well. While she raised her head and tried to clear it, he took her hand in both of his.
“Thank you for coming!” he said. “You don’t know how lonely I’ve been here all these years by myself.”
Dreamily she nodded. Then suddenly, beneath her hood, she cocked her head.
Wait, she thought. What did he mean by ‘all these years’?
“I . . . I thought you were from Camp Hiawatha?” she said.
Still grinning, he nodded. “Oh, I am.” Then a corner of his lip turned down. “Or really, I was. Ten years ago.”
“Ten years?” Her mouth felt dry. Her throat grew tight. Her spine went stiff with dread.
Slowly he nodded. “I’ve been stuck here ever since.” He moved his head around to indicate the clearing, but his eyes stayed firmly fixed on her. “This clearing, it’s enchanted—or depending on how you look at it, I guess, cursed. I actually came across it accidentally one night when I snuck away from camp. It wasn’t my first time sneaking out.” He laughed. “But it was the first time I’d gone through here. I’d heard about it, of course,” he said. “There was a rumor at Hiawatha that it was haunted, but I didn’t care. I just wanted to get away. And I knew it was the fastest way to your camp, Minnehaha, where I hoped to meet up with this girl. Nobody special, of course.” He grinned. “I met her at a dance. But you’re a lot prettier,” he said. “It was this same time of year, late August, and it was a full moon too. But almost as soon as I got to this clearing, a lightning storm came up out of the blue, and I went into that cabin thinking I’d wait it out.” He paused. “I should have kept going, but it was probably already too late.”
“What happened?” she whispered, afraid of the answer—but at the same time she had to know.
“I’m not really sure,” he said. “All I know is the storm passed and the moon came back out, and suddenly the whole place was glowing—and I was too.”
Clearly, he could feel her trying to pull her hand back. He squeezed more tightly in response. “Don’t worry, it didn’t hurt,” he assured her. “It’s more like you’re on vibrate—until it’s all done. I didn’t know what was happening then, but now I do, I guess. Everything here—everything around you, including me, is under a spell. Most of the time I’m not even here, in fact. I’m in a place where time stands still. But for a few days a year—the full moon in August—I materialize again. But I can’t escape. I’m trapped within the bounds of this clearing. And you can’t imagine how lonely it is.”
His smile was gone now, replaced by a deadly serious stare. “But then I saw you through the trees while you were out hiking the other day, and, I don’t know, something just clicked. I could actually imagine spending eternity like this—if you were here to share it with. I could tell, you know, how much everyone liked you and how much fun you were to be with. Not like that other girl. Is she your sister? The one who kept kicking mushrooms and tossing rocks?” He leaned in closer. “That’s why I sent you that dream the other night.”
She was shaking her head by now, tugging at her hand still clasped in his.
“Yes!” He nodded. “It came from me! I hoped it would work and bring you here, and it did, perfectly! Did you also know,” he went on, “that I sent nightmares to the other girls? It wasn’t just to keep them away, either. It was fun, too, I have to admit.”
She had a feeling his smile had returned, but she couldn’t be sure. By now her flashlight had died completely. The clearing was as dark as the sky. All she could see were the gleaming silver circles of light that were his eyes.
The things he was saying were impossible! And yet she knew in her heart they were true. She also knew she had to get away from Dennis Shaw and the clearing as fast as she could.
“No!” She tried to pull away harder. “This is a mistake. Please! Let me go.”
“Mistake?” He laughed. “Oh no. I don’t think so,” he said. His grip on her hand grew even tighter, until she was sure her bones would break. “What’s wrong, Sam? I don’t understand.” His voice had a sudden sharp and wounded edge. “You seemed to like me just this afternoon. Remember? I asked you if you wanted to be together forever, and you told me that you did. Now you want to take that back? I know this is all a big shock, but you’ll get used to it eventually. Trust me. I did.”
“But—”
The girl froze then as an icy wind whipped across them both. It carried a scent, pungent and sour, which stung her nose and stole her breath. At the same time, green mist seemed to roll into the clearing. She gazed up, and so did Dennis, to watch the clouds roll apart. The moon emerged so full and bright that she had to shield her eyes. In the distance she could see streaks of lightning cracking against the sky.
“I’m sorry.” Dennis shook his head. “There are no buts anymore. The spell is cast, I’m afraid.” His smile by now was even brighter than the silver orb above. “But we’re together forever now, Sam. Just like you wanted. Isn’t it great?”
And with that, he let go of her hand and gently pulled back her hood.
CHAPTER 14
The next morning, Jennifer Howard woke up and pulled the sheet over her head. It was the last day of camp, and she just wasn’t ready to get up and start it yet.
She wondered what time it was. Maybe seven? The sun was already inching in through the window, but it still seemed quiet outside. Of course, the whole camp had been up so late last night, it was sure to be a slow morning for everyone.
The crumpled sheet drifted back down to her shoulders as she stretched and rolled onto her side. She could see good old Sam’s bunk, already empty and neatly made. But she knew for a fact that Sam’s bunk wasn’t much of a wake-up gauge. Sam was always the first one up and out of bed after all. By now she was probably saying good-bye to the chickens, or picking berries for Kay.
Then her eyes moved to Ali’s bed, and what she saw surprised her so much that she bolted up and banged her head.
“Ouch!” she cried, rubbing her part and finding a brand new mosquito bite right there.
“What? What’s wrong?” She heard Megan call down. “Why are you yelling? Go back to sleep.”
“Sorry,” Jennifer said. “But I think it’s kind of late.”
“It c
an’t be,” Megan groaned. She leaned over the edge and peered at Jennifer through tousled hair and sleepy eyes.
“Oh yeah?” Jennifer nodded over toward Ali’s rumpled bunk. “Check it out.”
The bed was empty.
“No way!” Megan gasped. She looked around at the other bunks, which were all still occupied. “Hey, Georgia! Stefi! Get up!” she called. “Ali’s gone. We overslept!”
“No, you didn’t.” It was Sam, walking into the room. She looked worried.
“No? Then where’s Ali?” Jennifer asked her.
Sam held out her hands. “I don’t know. I thought maybe I’d see her in the latrine, but she wasn’t there or anywhere else.”
She looked around for some kind of clue as to where her sister might be. Sam couldn’t remember the last time that she’d slept later than Ali. And then, purely by accident, her eyes fell on the hook on the end of her bed . . . the hook where she’d hung Dennis Shaw’s sweatshirt . . .
The hook that now was bare.
And there, on the floor beneath it, sat Megan’s makeup jar.
Instantly, Sam realized exactly where Ali must have gone.
Seconds later, it seemed, the whole bunk was dressed and flying down the Old Stump Trail. They didn’t exactly understand Sam’s explanation. (A boy? A dance? In the moonlight?) But they knew something must be very wrong if Ali had gone into the woods alone at night and hadn’t returned to camp yet.
They came to the point where the trail to the clearing started, and as soon as Sam took it, the other girls exchanged uneasy looks. They remembered the nightmare that all of them had shared. Suddenly their search took a whole new and much more frightening turn.
“Do you see any sign of her?” asked Sam.
But no, nobody did.
“Ali!” they all cried. “Ali! Can you hear us? Are you there?”
But there was no sound except for the echo that their anxious voices left in the air.
When they finally reached the clearing, each girl expected to find a scene straight out of her dream: glowing green and eerie—or impossibly lovely, in Sam’s case. But what they found instead was a ragged circle of thin, tired grass. There were no flowers or dainty butterflies, just a few old anthills with no ants. There was, however, a cabin—but it, too, was rather plain. It simply had four log walls, a thinning shingle roof, two dirty windows and a door. They could see from where they stood that it was wide open, and their hearts filled with hope that Ali was inside.
“Ali!”
They ran up to the cabin together. Sam was the first one in.
“Do you see her?” Jennifer asked, slipping in behind her.
Sam peered in every dark corner. “No,” she softly replied.
There was no Ali. And no Dennis.
No life, in fact, of any kind.
“Wait. Here’s something,” said Jennifer suddenly.
“What?” Sam turned to her.
She stood in the doorway with a thick red bundle that she’d picked up off the floor. Gingerly Jennifer unfolded it and let it dangle from her hands. The words CAMP HIAWATHA were easy to make out. And yet they looked so faded, and the fabric looked so worn, as if the thing had lain there moldering for ten years, or even more.
It can’t be Dennis’s, thought Sam. And yet something told her that it was.
It was the same numb, haunted feeling that told her that her sister was gone . . . forever?
CHAPTER 1
Click.
Ashley blinked in the sudden brightness. The bare lightbulb overhead swung from a rusty chain, casting shadows all over her new bedroom. She squinted in the harsh light, but it was the best she could do until she unpacked the little purple lamp that had sat on her bedside table for as long as she could remember.
Besides, she told herself, glancing from the boxes scattered over the pocked floor to the four-foot crack running down the wall, it’s not like this room could look any worse.
Ashley sighed, for the thousandth time, as she remembered her old bedroom back in Atlanta. It was perfect in every way, from the pale aqua paint on the walls to the window seat that overlooked the alley, a quiet place in a bustling city. But that was all gone now; Ashley knew she’d probably never see her room again. Maybe, right this very minute, somebody else was sitting in her old room, starting to unpack a bunch of boxes.
Lucky, Ashley thought, flopping back on her bare mattress and staring at the stain-spotted ceiling. She knew she should put the sheets on her bed, but she just didn’t feel like doing anything.
There was a knock at the door. Ashley could tell from the four strong raps that it was her mother. Maybe if I ignore her, she’ll go away, Ashley thought.
The knock came again, and then the door creaked open.
“Hey, Pumpkin!” Mrs. McDowell called out in a cheerful voice. “How’s it going in here? Want some help?”
Ashley shrugged and rolled over on the bed so that she was facing the window. It was getting dark outside—a deeper darkness than she was used to. It never felt dark in Atlanta, not really dark, not with all the streetlights and headlights and towering buildings whose windows glowed all night long. But this far out in the country, light was harder to come by once the sun went down. The bed creaked as Mrs. McDowell sat behind Ashley and started rubbing her back. Ashley inched away. She knew she was probably hurting her mom’s feelings, but it was hard to care. After all, it wasn’t like her mom and dad had cared about her feelings when they’d decided to sell their apartment and buy this rundown farm out in the middle of nowhere.
“This is going to be a really great thing, Ashley,” Mrs. McDowell said yet again. “Just try to have faith, okay? I know change is hard and stressful and scary—”
“Scary? Um, no. I’m not scared. I’m bored. I hate it here.”
“You hate it here?” Mrs. McDowell said. “Pumpkin, we’ve only been in Heaton Corners for, oh, five hours or so. All I ask is that you give it a chance. You know Dad and I wouldn’t make a decision this big if we didn’t think it was the best thing for everyone.”
“But you didn’t even ask me,” Ashley replied, blinking back tears. “I don’t want to live on a smelly farm, Mom. I miss Atlanta so much.”
Mrs. McDowell sighed. “We really regret not leaving the city before Maya went to college,” she said in a quiet voice. “We don’t want to make the same mistake with you. Maya spent her whole childhood cooped up in that apartment—”
“Yeah, and she loved it!” Ashley interrupted. “And so did I!”
“Can you try to think of it as an adventure?” Mrs. McDowell asked, and there was something so vulnerable in her voice that Ashley finally sat up and looked at her. “You know there’s something really exciting about a fresh start, going to a whole new school and meeting all kinds of new people! And we’ll have the homestead up and running before you know it—the chicks will arrive in a few days; won’t that be fun? Little fluffy baby chickens? And next spring we’ll get a cow!”
Ashley started to laugh. It was such a ridiculous thing to say—“we’ll get a cow!”—that she couldn’t help herself. And she couldn’t miss the relief that flooded her mom’s eyes.
“And maybe,” Ashley said, wishing that she wasn’t giving in so easily but saying it anyway, “we can fix that horrible crack over there? It looks like the wall got struck by lightning.”
Mrs. McDowell smiled as she patted Ashley’s knee. “Of course. I’ll have Dad come take a look—we can probably patch that crack by the end of the week. And then we’ll get the walls primed for painting. Have you thought about what color you want? Maybe a nice, sunny yellow?”
“Aqua,” Ashley said firmly. “Just like my old room.”
“All right,” Mrs. McDowell said. “Whatever you want. Listen, Dad went to get pizza; I think he’ll be back in an hour or so.”
“That long?” Ashley asked. “To grab pizza?”
“Well, it turns out there’s no pizza place in Heaton Corners,” Mrs. McDowell said, sighing. “So he ha
d to drive all the way to Walthrop.”
Ashley sneered. “Seriously. What kind of town doesn’t have a pizza place? Heaton Corners is the worst. The worst.”
“No, no, it’s not so bad,” Mrs. McDowell said. “We’ll learn to make our own pizza! And after we get the vegetable garden going next summer, we’ll even make our own sauce! With our own tomatoes!”
Yeah. Great, Ashley thought. Or, you know, we could get a pizza from Bernini’s in, like, ten minutes. If we still lived in Atlanta.
“So, come down when you can and help me find the plates,” Mrs. McDowell said as she stood up. On her way out, she paused by the door. “Oh, Ashley? Did I see your bike out back?”
“Yeah, probably.”
“Go out and put it in the barn, okay?”
“Why?” Ashley argued. “We’re in the middle of nowhere, remember? Nobody’s going to steal it.”
“Probably not,” Mrs. McDowell replied. Then she pointed at the window. “But it looks like it’s going to rain tonight. You see those thunderheads gathering? So go ahead and get your bike in the barn so it doesn’t rust. Thanks, Pumpkin.”
Ashley sighed heavily as her mom left. Then she halfheartedly started rummaging through one of the boxes on the floor. She didn’t exactly feel like unpacking, but she definitely didn’t feel like rushing outside to put away her bike just because her mom said so.
Of course, there was no way for Ashley to know that that particular carton held her Memory Box, a dark-purple shoebox that was crammed with photos, cards, and funny notes from her best friends in Atlanta. Just seeing Nora and Lucy’s handwriting made Ashley feel homesick. By the time she’d finished rereading every single note, it was pitch-black outside.
And her mom was shouting from the kitchen.
“Ashley! Your bike! And I’m going to need your help in here!”
Ashley shoved the Memory Box under her bed and went downstairs, walking right past the kitchen without saying a word to her mom. Her flip-flops were near the back door, where she’d kicked them off after the movers had left. One look out the window told Ashley that she would need a flashlight to find the barn. Luckily, there was a flashlight hanging right next to the door. Ashley guessed that the last people who’d lived here had found themselves in the same situation.
