By the time they reached the bottom of the trail and settled on a spot to set up camp, it was nearly dusk. Carrying Liberty had definitely slowed them down.
“We better move fast before we lose the light,” Scarlett instructed them. She opened the tent bag and looked inside. It was a mess of poles, hinges, and fabric pieces. “Does it come with an instruction booklet?” she asked, scratching her head.
“Let me Google ‘How to build a tent,’ ” Bria suggested. But her phone had no service, not even when she held it up above her head. “I can’t get a single bar,” she said, shaking her phone. “It must be all those trees getting in the way.”
“Any other suggestions?” Scarlett sighed. “We gotta get this thing up.”
Gracie kneeled over the parts on the ground. “It’s just like my Barbie tent,” she said. “The one I set up in the backyard and decorated with your hair bows, Scoot.” She suddenly remembered that she hadn’t exactly mentioned borrowing her sister’s hair accessories for decor. “Oops! Sorry!”
Scarlett didn’t even care about the bows at the moment. She was exhausted, and just wanted a place for them all to sleep tonight. “Do you think you can figure it out?”
Gracie studied the pieces and sat down to work. She clicked one pole into another, then poked it through the hem in the bottom of the fabric. In less than an hour, she’d put the entire thing together by herself. She zipped the front door closed and stood back to admire her handiwork.
“Easy-peasy,” she said, dusting off her hands. “It’s not as pretty as my Barbie tent, but it works.”
“Gracie, you never cease to amaze!” Scarlett said, hugging her little sister. “Great job.”
They unrolled all the sleeping bags outside the tent, and piled a bunch of logs in the center of a circle to start a campfire.
“I think I saw this in a movie once,” Bria said, rubbing two sticks together. But no matter how hard she rubbed, there was no spark—only a few pitiful puffs of smoke. The logs refused to catch.
“Maybe we need kindling?” Anya suggested. “Ya know, something to get it started? This wood is kinda damp.”
A lightbulb went off over Rochelle’s head. “Didn’t you say you brought magazines?” she asked Liberty. “We could use the paper to start the fire.”
Liberty motioned toward her backpack. “If you must …”
It took Bria another twenty minutes, but the sticks finally sparked and the pages burst into flames. As the sun set, they gathered around a roaring fire. It was warm and cozy.
“I wish I had some s’mores to roast,” Anya said.
“Don’t look at me,” Liberty said, propping her knee up on her lamb Pillow Pet. “I gave you all the chocolate I had.”
Scarlett dug in the bottom of her bag. “I still have a banana. Anyone got something that would go well with it?”
Gracie held up a ketchup packet that had been crammed in her jacket pocket. “How ’bout this?”
“That would be great with my potato chips,” Bria suggested. “Chips and dip!”
“I have a little trail mix left,” Rochelle said. “How ’bout we sprinkle some nuts and granola on your banana?”
It wasn’t exactly a gourmet dinner, but it was a fun feast that they had created together.
“Who wants to tell scary stories?” Rochelle asked.
“Not me,” Gracie said, hugging her stuffed pig. “I hate scary stories.”
“Oh, good … Then I’ll go first!” Liberty smirked. “Once upon a time, there was a fabulous and very fashionable ballerina …”
Rochelle rolled her eyes. “Seriously? I said a scary story. Not your E! True Hollywood Story.”
“I’m getting there,” Liberty protested. She cleared her throat. “As I was saying: Once upon a time, there was a fabulous and very fashionable ballerina. But she led a tragic life. Her evil, rotten, wicked-witch dance teacher put her high up in a tower where no one could see her loveliness.”
“That’s Rapunzel,” Gracie said. “I saw that movie like a million times.”
Liberty placed her hand over Gracie’s mouth. “Let me finish! Anyway, this beautiful ballerina spent all her days and nights captive in the tower, until one day, she heard a strange noise below her window.”
“Was it the evil wicked witch?” Gracie asked.
“Worse!” Liberty replied. “It was the Creature from the Rock Lagoon and it burped fire and smelled like moldy cheese …”
“Watch it,” Rochelle warned her. “Unless you want me to fix your other knee …”
Liberty kept right on going, unfazed. “This monster was hideous. It had snakes for hair and yellow eyes that gleamed in the darkness. And when she found out the beautiful ballerina was trapped inside, she offered her a deal: trade me your beauty and I will set you free.”
Bria mulled over the story. “Let me get this straight: the ballerina has to become the hideous Rock Monster to escape? Oh, that’s good …”
Rochelle pulled her hood over her ears. “I am not listening to this. It’s ridiculous.”
“The Rock Monster promised the change in appearance would not be permanent. She would return the ballerina to her original gorgeousness if she would do one tiny little thing for her.”
“What? What?” Gracie asked anxiously.
“Slay the wicked witch!”
Anya raised her hand. “Okay, let me get this straight. The ballerina has to give up her beauty and take down the wicked witch? What’s in it for her?”
“Freedom!” Liberty replied. “She never has to listen to that witch nag her ever again.”
“Of course there’s a catch,” Scarlett guessed. “Like it’s impossible to kill the witch? Or you need some crazy spell and eye of newt to do it?”
“Nope,” Liberty replied. “All the ballerina has to do is click her toe shoes together three times and say, ‘There’s no place like home. There’s no place like home.’ ”
Gracie scratched her head. “That’s The Wizard of Oz. This story is really mixed up.”
“You mean Liberty is really mixed up,” Rochelle complained. “I say the Rock Monster should climb up the tower and eat the ballerina for dinner in one big GULP!”
“Noooo!” Gracie squealed covering her ears. “That’s too scary! I like Liberty’s story much better. Tell us how it ends.”
“Well, of course the beautiful ballerina outsmarts the Rock Monster. She tells the monster she’ll give up her beauty and when the monster unlocks the door to the tower, the ballerina is too quick for her. She runs off and leaves the monster there, hungry and ugly.”
“Unbelievable!” Rock shouted.
“And she kills the evil witch?” Gracie asked.
“Worse. She banishes her to a remote forest where she must wander the dark, dusty trails for eternity.”
Gracie clapped. “I love it! It could be a Disney movie!”
Liberty smiled. “And the beautiful ballerina lived happily ever after in a Beverly Hills mansion with her billionaire Prince Charming. The end.”
Scarlett, Anya, and Rochelle all groaned, but Bria was impressed. “I need to do an original short story for my English class,” she said. “Think I can use that?”
“Sorry. Copyright Liberty Montgomery, Inc.,” Liberty replied. “Get your own fairy tale.”
“I have a better idea,” Scarlett suggested. “Let’s all sing a song around the fire. How about ‘Home on the Range’?”
“Can we jazz it up or something?” Rochelle suggested. “It needs a little Diva rewrite.” She began drumming on her backpack: “Home, home, yes, home on the range, where the Divas dance and we don’t need a stage …”
“Buffalo? No! Not a deer in sight,” Bria improvised. “Merry Divas to all and to all a good night!”
Scarlett laughed. “Well, that wasn’t exactly what I was thinking, but it works.” She gazed up at the stars. She’d never seen so many before. “Ya know, this isn’t so bad. I thought this trip would be awful. But we all pitched in; we’re all getting along.”
“And there aren’t any werewolves.” Bria breathed a sigh of relief.
But she spoke too soon. A strange howling sound echoed through the woods: “A-woooooo!”
“What was that?” Bria said, grabbing Scarlett’s arm. She dug her nails in until Scarlett yelped. “Did you hear that?”
“It was probably just the wind whistling through the trees,” Rochelle tried to convince Bria and herself at the same time.
The howl came again—but this time it sounded louder and closer. “A-woooooo!”
“It’s a werewolf!” Bria screamed. “Everyone, quick! Into the tent!” They grabbed their sleeping bags and piled inside, leaving Liberty still seated at the fire.
“Hey! What about me? Someone help me up!” she called, trying to crawl her way to the tent. “I can’t stand up, remember?”
Bria quickly zipped the tent shut, forgetting that her teammate was still outside.
“Let me in!” Liberty screamed. “Quick! The werewolf is coming!”