Camp Nowhere (5 page)

My scream rang out as the canoe pitched forward.

Charlotte let out a cry.

Our boat rocked one more time, then settled in the smooth-flowing water.

We both stared open-mouthed at the falls.

A tiny trickle of water down the side of a black rock on the shore.

A tiny trickle…

“My—my shower at home is more powerful than that!” I cried.

Charlotte shook her head. “I don’t believe it,” she muttered. “The falls—it’s all a fake.”

“There
is
no falls,” I said, my heart still pounding.

The other canoe came bouncing around the curve. I could hear my three friends screaming the way Charlotte and I had.

And then the shocked silence.

Their canoe tossed up beside ours.

“Where is it? Where is the falls?” David cried breathlessly.

I pointed. “That’s it. That tiny trickle.”

“Get it? It’s a joke,” Charlotte said, frowning bitterly. “It’s all just another camp joke.”

Erin let out a sharp cry. “How could they
do
that to us?”

David shook his head. “Can you believe it? They do it to kids every year. They build it up and build it up. They make you think the falls is a really big deal. And then…”

We all gazed at the trickle of water. It splashed into the river, which was calm and quiet here. The white-water waves and spills all ended where the river curved.

“Are you sure it’s just a joke?” Erin demanded.

“Of course it is. Don’t you see?” I replied. “Everyone keeps the secret year after year. Because it’s so much fun to frighten the kids who have to do it next year.”

“Let’s get out of these canoes,” Charlotte said. She started to paddle toward the shore. “I’m totally soaked.”

Erin heaved her paddles onto the rocks at the shoreline. “What about Ramos?” she asked. “Do you think that whole thing with his arm was just an act?”

Before anyone could answer, we saw Ramos. He was standing in a clearing of tall grass. He was leaning over a long, straight stick he held between his
hands—swinging it like a golf club.

“Look at him,” Marty whispered. “His arm is perfectly okay.”

“The lousy faker!” Erin growled. “Quick—don’t let him see us.”

She jumped from the canoe and waded through the shallow water to the shore. Charlotte and I ducked low and pulled our canoe onto the rocks. David and Marty dragged their canoe beside ours.

We hurried behind a clump of tall pine bushes. We tugged off our life jackets and piled them on the ground.

“Did Ramos see us?” Erin whispered.

I gazed around the side of a bush. Ramos was still taking his practice swings. “He is so busy over there, I don’t think he even knows we’re here,” I whispered.

The sun finally burst through the high gray clouds. I could feel its warmth on my wet clothes. All five of us stretched out on the ground, letting the sun’s rays warm us and dry us out.

“I’ve got a good idea,” David said. A grin spread over his face. “Let’s sneak away in the canoes.”

“You mean leave him here?” I asked.

David nodded. “Yeah. Make him walk back to camp. It would take him at least a couple of days.”

“Cool!” Marty declared. He tossed his baseball cap in the air and caught it.

“No good. He’s not stranded. He could take the supply canoe back,” I said.

“It isn’t mean enough,” Erin said through gritted teeth. “I want to do something much, much worse to that creep.”

“It was just a joke,” Charlotte said to her.

“He scared us to death,” Erin snapped.

“Whoa. Wait. I’ve got a great idea,” I said, jumping up. “Let’s turn it around. Let’s play a joke on Ramos.”

Everyone turned to me. “What kind of joke?” Marty asked.

“Well, he doesn’t know we came around the curve—right?” I said. “Ramos doesn’t know we’re here. What if we don’t show up? Think he’ll get a little worried?”

Charlotte narrowed her eyes at me. “You mean—?”

“He scared us—right?” I replied. “So, what if we give him a little scare? What if he waits and waits for us, and we don’t come around the curve?”

“No. No good,” David said. He jumped up beside me, his dark eyes flashing excitedly. “We don’t want to give Ramos a
little
scare. Let’s give him a
big
scare. What if we make him think something
terrible
happened to us?”

“Cool,” Marty said, grinning.

“How do we do it?” Charlotte asked.

“We go back to where the river dips,” David said. “And we overturn the canoes. And we smash them up a bit. You know. Make it look like we crashed.”

“Yeah. And we could send a few life jackets float
ing down the river,” I added. “That would get his attention. A few empty life jackets floating past him.”

“Yeah. Way cool!” Marty agreed. “We make it look like we crashed against the rocks on the riverbank. Then we hide in the woods. And we wait for Ramos to come searching for us.”

“I can’t wait to see the look on his face!” Erin exclaimed. “He’ll think we all drowned. He really will. He’ll be sick. He’ll probably have a
stroke
or something. It will be so totally cool!”

Charlotte bit her bottom lip. “It’s pretty mean,” she said softly.

“Not as mean as what he did to us!” Marty insisted. “Come on. Let’s do it.”

We dragged the canoes up the rocky shore. Just past the curve of the river, we turned them upside down.

David and Marty wanted to smash them with rocks. But I reminded them that we needed the canoes to get back to camp once the joke was over.

So we left the canoes, bobbing upside down, half in the water, half on the ground. Then Marty waded into the water and sent a single blue life jacket floating downstream.

“Come on. Let’s hide,” he said, splashing back onto the rocks. “As soon as Ramos sees that life jacket, he’ll freak. He’ll be up here looking for us.”

We scampered across the rocky shore and into the woods. The ground sloped up steeply. We found a hiding place behind two fat trees. We were high enough so that we could see the river and the whole riverbank.

Warm yellow sunlight filtered down through the
leafy trees. Tiny circles of light danced over the ground at our feet. The air smelled fresh and sweet. Insects chittered all around.

We leaned against the rough tree trunks and waited.

Two green-and-brown ducks floated silently by, carried by the river current. “Quack! Quack!” David called to them.

Marty clapped a hand over his mouth. “Shut up! Ramos will hear you!”

The ducks turned their heads, as if following our voices. Then they disappeared around the river’s curve, leaving narrow lines of ripples behind them.

“Where is he?” Erin whispered. She yawned. “What’s taking him so long?”

“I guess he hasn’t finished his golf lesson,” I muttered.

“I’m hot, I’m itchy, I’m still soaked, and I’m starving,” Erin complained.

“Shhhh.” Charlotte raised a finger to her lips. “Listen.”

Yes. We heard Ramos’s trotting footsteps. His hiking boots thudding the stones on the shore.

I peeked out from my spot behind the wide tree. Down the sloping hill of trees and tall weeds, I could see Ramos jogging up to the overturned canoes.

He was carrying the blue life jacket we had floated downstream. But he dropped it to the ground when he saw the canoes.

David started to giggle as Ramos bent over to study the canoes. Again, Marty clapped a hand over his mouth.

“Check out the look on his face,” Erin whispered.

Ramos’s face was twisted in a frown. He kept shaking his head, staring at the canoes, shaking his head some more.

I watched him jump to his feet. He cupped his hands around his mouth and started to shout. “Hey, guys! Hey! Where is everyone? Can you hear me?”

Ramos kicked a canoe hard. “Hey! Where are you? Are you guys here? Where’d you go?” He lowered his hands and squinted into the woods, his eyes making a complete circle.

Then he cupped his hands around his mouth again and shouted at the top of his lungs. “
Hey, everyone! It’s me! Can you hear me?
”

He stood stiffly with his hands at his waist. Even from so far away, I could see his chest heaving up and down. See him breathing hard.

He was scared to death.

Holding on to the tree trunk, Charlotte leaned close. “Should we go down there?” she whispered. “Should we put him out of his misery?”

“I guess,” I whispered back. I took a step away from the tree.

“No!” David tugged me back. “Let’s see what he does.”

“Yeah,” Marty agreed. “Let him sweat it a while
longer. I’m enjoying this!”

I turned back to Ramos. He stood stiffly, one boot resting on an overturned canoe. He shouted for us again. His cries sent birds flapping from the trees.

Ramos shook his head. He was muttering to himself.

Finally, he turned and strode off. He jammed his hands into his jeans pockets as he walked. I watched him until he disappeared behind a thick row of shrubs.

“Where is he going?” Erin whispered.

“Upstream,” Charlotte answered. “He’s following the river upstream.”

“He is definitely in a panic,” David said, grinning. “Wow. He is totally messed up.”

“We let this go on too long,” Charlotte said. “I’m starting to feel kind of bad.”

“Hey—I worried about riding over Forbidden Falls for months,” Erin replied. “I think it’s okay to make Ramos sweat for a few minutes.”

“I just don’t think it’s nice. A joke is a joke. But—”

I stepped between the two girls. “No problem,” I said. “Let’s catch up to him and show him we’re all right.”

“But where is he going?” Erin asked.

“Probably back to where all our stuff is,” Marty said. “Maybe he’s hoping we went back there. Or maybe he wants to get the supply canoe.”

“Well, let’s go catch up with him,” Charlotte said.
She started to lead the way down the sloping hill to the riverbank.

“How about we sneak up behind him and yell ‘Boo!’” David suggested.

“That’s awesome!” Marty exclaimed. “He’ll jump a mile.”

We scrambled down to the rocky shore. The water shimmered under the bright sunlight. Our overturned canoes glowed as if on fire.

I glanced one more time at the lame trickle of water that was Forbidden Falls. How many nights had I stayed awake for hours, worrying about the falls?

With a sigh, I turned and followed the others. We jogged along the riverbank, jumping over rocks, our shoes sinking into the sandy ground.

“Where is he?” Charlotte asked. She raised a hand to her forehead to shield her eyes from the sun. “How did he get so far away from us?”

“He must be running,” Erin replied. “The poor guy. He’s in such a total panic, he’s running all the way back to where we camped last night.”

Four brown ducks floated by, heads straight forward, ignoring us. As we jogged, following the river upstream; the water began to toss. The current grew stronger. Waves topped with white foam slapped the shore.

“Remember how rough this part was?” David said. “We thought it was only the beginning.”

“Where is Ramos?” Charlotte repeated. “We should be able to see him from here.”

The river stretched straight into the distance. We could see for miles. No sign of Ramos.

“Maybe he decided to go for a swim,” David said.

I wiped sweat off my forehead. “A swim is a great idea!” I exclaimed.

“Do you think he crossed the river? Or took some kind of shortcut?” Charlotte asked.

I shielded my eyes and gazed upstream. The trees were tangled and thick on the other side. Sunlight couldn’t poke through the leafy treetops. Beneath them, the ground was as dark as night.

“Why would he cross the river?” Marty asked.

“Why did the chicken cross the river?” David said.

“No jokes, David,” Charlotte said sharply. “If Ramos is heading back to where we camped, we should be able to see him from here.”

“Are you sure he went this way?” I asked. I turned and gazed down the shore in the other direction.

“Totally sure,” Charlotte said.

“Maybe he is already back at our campgrounds,” Marty said. He pulled off his baseball cap and scratched his head. “Think he’ll wait for us?”

“Not if he thinks we crashed or something,” Charlotte answered.

“Then we should go back and get the canoes,” Marty said.

“Get the canoes? Why?” Erin asked.

“We’ll need them to get back to camp,” Marty replied. “You don’t want to walk all the way back, do you? It would take days.”

“He’s right,” I agreed. “Let’s get the canoes.”

We turned and started back. Our shoes crunched over the sand and rocks.

“Paddling upstream is going to be rough,” Erin muttered.

“Once we’re past these rapids, we’ll be fine,” Marty told her. “Besides, you want to work on those biceps, right?”

Erin rolled her eyes in reply.

“Wow. Look at that tree,” Charlotte said, pointing. “Weird. I don’t remember passing that.”

The tree was twisted and gnarled. The trunk bent in the middle. The leaves were faded and gray. It reminded me of a bent-over old man.

“I don’t remember it, either,” I said. “And look at those birds!”

I was staring at a wall of vines, covered with bright red berries. Dozens of blackbirds clung to the vines, hungrily pecking up the berries.

“Weird. The birds look as if they’re growing out of the vines,” Marty said.

“Did we pass this before?” Charlotte asked. “I don’t remember the blackbirds or that bent tree.”

The riverbank grew rockier as we followed the curve back toward the falls. The five of us started to
jog as we neared the canoes.

Charlotte stopped suddenly. She turned to the rest of us, her face twisted in confusion. “Where are they?” she murmured, “Where are the canoes?”

I stepped beside her, my eyes searching the riverbank. “Are you sure this is where we left them?” I asked.

“Yes, of course,” Charlotte replied sharply.

I swallowed hard. And stared at the empty ground.

“Th-they’re gone,” I whispered.