Sacrifice a Dream
Water streamed from Pogo’s hair and pooled on the floor. “I went to the barn to put his collar back on and he wasn’t there. And I can’t find Doc.”
Another crash of thunder reverberated through the mess hall.
“Maybe Doc and King Arthur are together,” I said hopefully.
Pogo shook her head and sent a spray of water over the table. “No, he said King Arthur would be in his pen so that I could put the collar back on him.”
My lesson with Ms. Jacqueline was scheduled to start in just a few minutes. Her words, “It is the only time I have. You mustn’t be late,” ping-ponged around my head.
“He’s an animal,” I said. “They’re okay in the rain. He’ll find shelter.”
Pogo gave me a disappointed look.
I gave her a glare.
Great. He had to get out tonight of all nights. Now I wasn’t going to learn how to decorate cupcakes, and I wasn’t going to be able to work for Mrs. Peghiny, and I wasn’t going to be able to earn money to buy a new bike. All because of that stupid goat.
Something hit the roof of the mess hall.
A tree branch?
King Arthur was alone in the storm—and probably frightened. He was my responsibility even if he was a stupid goat, and he could get hurt.
I groaned. Why did that goat never listen to me?
“Let’s go,” I said.
Rain drenched my hair the moment I sprinted down the mess hall steps. A thunderous boom shook the windows behind us. Even though it was summer, the wind felt cold. The sky had grown even darker. It wasn’t pitch-black, but I wished I had my flashlight.
We raced back to the barn. I held a tiny hope that Pogo was wrong. Maybe she had overlooked him. After all, Doc had moved King Arthur to a different stall.
“Doc!” Pogo said. “Are you here?”
I ran past every stall, checking for King Arthur.
Horse.
Horse.
Horse.
Llama.
Horse.
Cow.
No goat.
“Where should we look?” Pogo asked.
“Let’s split up.” I motioned to the tracking collar Pogo held in her hand. “That works, right?”
“Unless the storm has taken out the cell towers.”
“We’ll chance it.” I grabbed it from her and put it on myself like a necklace. “This way at least we won’t lose each other. If I find him, I’ll stay put and you come to us. If you find him, you come get me. Got it?”
“Got it.”
“I’ll check around the mess hall, the cake kitchen, and the lake. You take the area near the cabins, the sports field, and science lab,” I said as we headed out.
Pogo disappeared into the storm.
A gust of wind sprayed me with leaves and rain, and the dirt trail to the mess hall had transformed into a muddy glop.
I dashed around to Mess Hall Hill. A flash of lightning spiderwebbed across the sky. Trees waved back and forth in the wind, and I prayed a tornado wasn’t coming. The wind was blowing the rain horizontally now, and the camp speakers sounded the alarm for bad weather. I didn’t care—I had to find King Arthur.
I slipped and slid down the steep drop toward the cake kitchen and lake. Canoes rocked back and forth in the water. Weird. The canoes were always beached on the sand at the end of each day. Why were they in the water? Unless…
I remembered Director Mudwimple said something the first day of camp about the creek bed normally being real low…unless it stormed. All the watershed from Mess Hall Hill would funnel down the ravine and fill the creek. The creek water drained into the lake. If the canoes were floating, it was because the ravine was filling with water.
I sprinted toward the sidewalk leading up to the mess hall. Another flash of lightning gave me a momentary view of the hilltop. Someone was up there, but who?
Then, through the downpour, I spied Victoria gripping a paisley umbrella that had been blown inside out by the wind.
She dodged around the corner of the mess hall. What was she doing? No one would be out in this storm unless they absolutely had to be.
I followed her as she darted behind the storage shed. The wooden fence that separated level ground from the ravine drop-off seemed to be her target. She knelt by a post.
“What are you doing out here?” I hollered as I ran up to her.
Victoria held a chewed lead rope in one hand. The other end was looped over the top of the fence post.
“I don’t understand. He’s supposed to be right here,” she stammered. “This is where I—”
A crash of thunder drowned out the rest of her words.
“What have you done?”
Her face had gone white. “This is where I left him.”