My stomach churned as I followed Leonard down toward the lake, the faint buzz of anxiety present in the back of my mind. Doing the ropes course would be another failure for me; I already knew it. The only unknown was – how humiliating it would be.
I reached the line to the ropes course, a step behind Leonard. Off to the side, I set my bag down, then searched the line for any friendly faces. I spotted Bobby swimming to shore in the water, an infectious smile on his face. Apparently, he’d taken his turn and had fallen, as usual. On the rope ladder, Elisa Jarreau, my only other friend at Camp Pontchartrain, climbed up to the zip line. Her long blond hair fell over one shoulder as she ascended, her golden locks swaying about.
“Cameron!” Bobby shouted as he waded out of the lake, waving.
Elisa glanced down, spotted me, and flashed me a smile.
I waved, then moved behind Leonard, hiding from the curious stares of those in line.
“Cameron Poole, why are you always last in line?” It was Mrs. Chakoté, the camp director. “I know you’re hoping there won’t be enough time for you, but I don’t want you to miss out on conquering the ropes course. Come up here.” She rapped her cane on the hard-packed ground, the end of the crooked staff making a loud tapping sound. “Come on now, child. Bring your friend, Leonard, with you.”
“Cool, we get to cut the line.” Leonard grabbed my arm and dragged me to the front.
Many in line grumbled complaints. Mrs. Chakoté tapped her cane on the ground again, the colorful stones embedded in the wood sparkling in the sunlight. She stepped forward, casting her gaze across the kids, her gray hair glittering like a thousand silver threads, the afternoon sun making her locks almost glow. Chakoté thumped her cane on the ground again, this time harder. The kids grew silent as Leonard pushed me to the front of the line.
The buzz of an annoying gnat circled inside my skull, slowly getting louder. I glanced around, hoping maybe an insect orbited my head, but I knew that wasn’t the case. It was the Beast stalking me.
No, not again, I pleaded, but my thoughts did little to slow the approaching storm.
I grasped the rope ladder and put a foot on the lowest rung, the lingering fatigue making my legs feel heavy. My heart felt like it was trying to escape the confines of my chest, pounding so fiercely I could feel the blood rushing through my veins. I tried to swallow, but my mouth was dry as a desert, my throat rough and scratchy, like sandpaper.
“Come on, Cameron. You can do it.” Elisa glanced down at me. She’d traversed the zip line without falling and was now climbing the cargo net.
The buzzing grew louder. What if I fall? What if I get stuck up there? What if . . .
All the possible ways I could fail flooded my mind, fear growing.
“Come on, Poole. Get moving, ya slow poke. I wanna jump off the high platform before the end of summer.” It was Karl Macarthur, the baseball captain and new to Camp Pontchartrain. He pointed at the water where Bobby was wading to shore. “The ropes could support Blobby, so they probably won’t break and send you falling to your doom.” He laughed, some of the other baseball kids joining in.
“Mr. Macarthur!” Chakoté slammed the tip of her cane on the ground with a thud. All the kids instantly grew silent. “You need to be more respectful.”
Karl lowered his eyes to the ground, a smile still on his face.
I scowled at him, then stepped up onto the first rung. Grabbing the rope overhead, I pulled myself up. The gnat transformed into a band of cicadas, the noisy insects amplifying my fear of failure.
Don’t fall in front of everyone . . . it’ll be humiliating.
I climbed a little higher. Fear surged within me as worst-case scenarios played like an endless nightmare through my head.
I looked down at Leonard. His gaze showed a total lack of fear as if doing the ropes course was equivalent to walking down the street. Maybe if I imagined myself to be him, I could use some of his courage.
Closing my eyes for a moment, I took a deep breath and thought about what it would be like to have Leonard’s confidence and strength.
“Get a move on it.” Karl reached past Leonard and shook the rope ladder, then laughed.
I squeezed the rope tight, my knuckles turning white. Any thought of being like Leonard evaporated as the rope swung under my grip. The buzzing in my head stabbed at my courage with blades of doubt, thoughts of failure filling my mind. More harassing and teasing comments fell upon my ears; Karl’s impatience spread to the others in the line.
“Cameron, I have faith in you.” Elisa had reached the top of the cargo net.
I know I can’t do it. Why did I even try? The buzzing grew even louder, the furious hornets in my head trying to deafen me, almost drowning out my thoughts. I hate this!
Beads of sweat trickled down my forehead, the salty moisture finding the corner of my eye, stinging. I reached up, grasped the next rung, and tried to pull myself up. My arms felt like noodles, legs filled with sand.
I can’t do it. I’ll never be able to do it.
Instead of going up, I climbed down the few rungs I’d scaled until I reached the ground, head hung low in shame. I heard Mrs. Chakoté sigh and glanced at her. She tilted her head slightly, smiled reassuringly, and motioned me to step aside.
“Get out of the way, Poole.” Karl moved past Leonard and shoved me out of the way, then scaled the rope ladder with ease. “Let me show you how it’s done.”
Leonard looked at me and shook his head, then followed Karl up the ropes, moving without fear.
I stepped away from the course and moved to a large granite boulder, the massive stone all the camp-goers called The Guardian. It stood maybe six feet tall at its highest point, the top sloping downward, making it easy to climb.
The huge stone felt rough under my fingers as I crawled on top. I turned away from the ropes course as Karl and Leonard climbed higher and higher and stared across the camp grounds. A collection of rustic-looking cabins stood amidst gently rolling. Yellow flowers dotted the grass, splashes of color on the swells of an emerald ocean.
One of the camp counselors stood nearby, Mr. Jacobian, the computer programming teacher. It must have been his turn to help with the Ropes. He glanced up at me as I took in the serene view.
“You know, they have a fleet of riding mowers to keep the grass in perfect condition.”
“Umm . . . what?” I glanced down at the teacher.
“Yep.” Jacobian nodded. “They keep all the riders in a barn at the back of the grounds.”
I knew that, of course; I’d been coming to Camp Pontchartrain for many years.
The teacher pointed to the far side of the grounds. A tangle of tall grass, prickly weeds, and overgrown shrubs grew behind a waist-high stone wall. On one side of the chaos sat a marble building, the Crypt, while on the other side, a cave opening pierced a tall hill.
“You know the Crypt grounds are off-limits,” Mr. Jacobian said.
“Yep, I know that.”
“Did you know they buried all the camp directors in the Crypt since this place was founded in 1799?” The teacher looked at me and smiled as if he had imparted a great piece of information known only to him. “You know it’s big trouble to go onto the Crypt grounds, right?”
I nodded. “Of course . . . I’ve been coming to Camp Pontchartrain for a long time.”
Mr. Jacobian smiled, then moved to Mrs. Chakoté’s side.
Karl shouted something from the course. He was traversing the rope bridge, Leonard directly behind. The two boys synchronized their steps, trying to keep the line on which they walked from swinging out of control, but the obstacle had other ideas. The bridge did not like multiple kids on it at the same time and tended to sway unexpectedly, showing its displeasure.
I stood on The Guardian, vying for a better glimpse of the shrubs and disobedient weeds clinging to the ground around the Crypt. Just then, something colored bright red moved through the tall grass. Stretching my neck, I tried to get a better view. This time I saw it. A creature no bigger than a small child pushed through the weeds, its skin dark red. Tiny wings stuck out from its back, short stubby horns jutting up from its head, and its eyes glowing like two burning embers.
The rope bridge lurched, throwing Leonard and Karl into the air. They fell, each shouting as they splashed into the water.
Their voices barely registered in my mind, my attention focused on the mysterious visitor. Flapping its wings, the tiny red creature tried to take to the air, its long, pointed tail barely clearing the ground before it fell in a heap.
I giggled.
Some of the kids in line gasped.
“You find something funny about Leonard and Karl falling, Poole?” Jackson Viles asked, his voice loud enough for everyone to hear.
“Um . . . no, I wasn’t laughing at them, I was laughing at . . .” I glanced back toward the Crypt, but the red thing was gone.
“What were you laughing at, Poole?” Karl asked as he waded out of the lake, an angry scowl painted across his face.
“I wasn’t laughing at you. I was laughing at . . . well . . . something else.” I could feel my face getting hot. The buzzing started up again, angry bees in my head with pointed stingers ready to stab at my soul.
Leonard now turned and glared at me. “Not cool, dude.”
“Honest, I wasn’t laughing at you, I was . . . umm . . .”
“Yeah, whatever.” Leonard stepped out of the water and went back into line, an angry stare focused on me.
Karl followed Leonard, his eyes fixed on mine. When he reached the Guardian, Karl stopped and stared up at me, then mouthed, “you’re dead.” Before I could say anything, the baseball player turned and got back in line behind Leonard.
The two athletes whispered to each other, occasionally lobbing angry stares in my direction.
Fear churned through me, electrifying my nerves. A rush of pins and needles prickled the back of my arms and legs. I had angered one of the meanest kids and the most popular boy in the camp; something bad was going to happen; I knew it.
Mrs. Chakoté smacked her cane against one of the thick posts supporting the ropes course, the stick of wood like an extension of the old woman’s arm. It made the post ring as if struck by a steel hammer. “Kids, I have an announcement. All of you come down off the ropes. We’re done for now.”
The kids moaned. Those in line spread out, standing with their cabin-mates. The soccer players clustered together, as did the art students, the techies, and the various athletes. In an instant, the group went from a collection of sixth-graders excited to be on the ropes to a patchwork of cliques and factions, each glaring at the other. Despite the adult’s best efforts, an unhealthy competitiveness between cabins had always infected Camp Pontchartrain.
I jumped off the Guardian and moved to Bobby’s side, standing near the kids in the robotics cabin, the Techies as we were called, sometimes as an insult.
“As you may have heard,” Mrs. Chakoté said in a loud voice, “there’s an upcoming lunar eclipse tomorrow night. It should be quite spectacular. Does anyone know anything about it?”
“It’s gonna be a special eclipse,” one of the techie girls, Lisa Chambers, said. She came to Camp Pontchartrain to study robotics, like me.
“That’s right.” Mrs. Chakoté nodded. “Do you know what astronomers call the moon during this kind of eclipse?”
“They call it a Super Blood Moon,” Lisa said. “The moon will be at its closest distance from Earth, and the light going through our atmosphere during the eclipse will shade the moon blood-red.”
“What?” I blurted unintentionally.
“I said the moon will be blood-red,” Lisa repeated.
–blood red, like that little flying devil-thing.
I stepped back and glanced back at the tall grass. Some blades looked pushed apart as if something had recently walked through them.
“We’ll pull the telescopes out for everyone to use. It’ll be late, but it should be quite an event.” Mrs. Chakoté tapped her cane on the ground.
Did one of those stones flash with color? I glanced at Bobby to see if he noticed, but he was busy staring at a bug crawling over his foot.
“It’s time for class,” Chakoté continued. “Everyone to your classrooms or practice fields.”
Leonard led the football kids to the fields where an NFL player waited, ready to teach them new skills. The Olympic bronze medal winner in archery stood on the archery range. Professional soccer players, tennis players, artists, engineers . . . every group had recognized experts there to teach them.
As I walked toward the robotics building, the buzzing in my head disappeared. I had some new inventions I wanted to test with the NASA engineer teaching our group. As I walked, I glanced toward the overgrown area around the Crypt, hoping to see that red-winged creature. But all I saw were the dense weeds and tall grass swaying gently in the breeze, nothing out of the ordinary in sight.
Maybe I imagined it. That must be it. But I saw it for sure, the certainty in me as solid as the Guardian I’d just stood on.
I shuddered, “Something’s wrong . . . I know it.”
Taking a deep breath, I headed for robotics class, all the while playing back the memory of that monster, its blazing eyes staring directly at me from within my mind.