Camp Nowhere (4 page)

I flew up—then bounced down hard, back into my place.

I felt Ramos’s hand on my shoulder. “Easy,” he said softly.

I turned and saw him climbing out of the canoe. “It’s too shallow here, guys. We hit bottom.”

“We did, too,” Marty called. His canoe wasn’t moving. The water trickled past.

“We have to get out and carry them for a while,” Ramos instructed. He splashed into the water. Then he held the canoe steady for Charlotte and me to climb out.

We all waded to shore. The water was only a foot or two deep. My sneakers sank into the soft mud of the river bottom.

“It’s only about half a mile,” Ramos told us. “Then the river is deep enough the rest of the way.”

Charlotte and I carried our canoe above our heads. It was lighter than I thought it would be. Erin
and Marty carried the other canoe. David helped Ramos drag the equipment canoe over the ground.

We slogged along the muddy, marshy riverbank. Our boots made
splosh splosh
sounds as we walked. The air was warm and perfectly still. No breeze at all. The river was brown here, more like a narrow creek than a river.

As we walked, my arms grew tired. My muscles ached. I wanted to put down the canoe and rest awhile.

“Almost there,” Ramos called, as if reading my mind.

And then I stumbled. Over a thick tree root poking up from the mud.

The canoe ripped from my hands. I tumbled forward. Into a tree.

No. Into something soft and dry on the side of a tree.

As I struggled to get my balance, I heard an angry buzzing sound. I jumped back.

Something shot past my ear, buzzing loudly.

Insects? Two more. Five more. I couldn’t count them. They swarmed around my face.

I slapped the air with my hand. Tried to brush them away.

The droning buzz became an angry roar.

“Wasps!” I heard Charlotte cry from behind me.

“Russell knocked over a wasps’ nest!” Marty shouted.

A dozen wasps darted in rapid circles around me. I felt one in my hair. Wasps buzzed over my head. Several landed on my T-shirt, wings flitting too fast to see.

Zzzzzzzzzzz
. It sounded like a buzz saw.

The wasps darted and jabbed against my face, my bare arms. I tried to swat them away.

“Don’t move!” Ramos called. “Stand perfectly still. Wait till they calm down.”

I froze with my arms tight at my sides. It wasn’t easy. The wasps circled, darting and spinning.

I shut my eyes. I gritted my teeth so hard, my jaw ached.

“Are you allergic?” Ramos called. “Russell—are you allergic to wasp stings?”

“I—I don’t know,” I choked out. “I’ve never been stung before.”

And then I cried out as I felt a sharp, stinging pain—like a knife stab—in the side of my neck.

YAAAAIIIIII!

I wanted to scream. I wanted to wail and shriek my head off.

But I didn’t.

I was proud of that. I think maybe that’s one reason no one teased me about the wasps later.

The sting swelled only a little bit. It itched a lot. But the cream that Ramos spread over it kept it from really hurting.

“You were lucky,” Ramos said later as we paddled along the river, the current pulling us easily. “All those wasps and only one sting. The others must have decided that you wrecked their nest by accident.”

I forced a weak laugh. “I guess.”

“You were brave the way you just froze there and let them climb all over you,” Charlotte said. She shuddered. “Just thinking about it gives me the creeps.”

The river picked up speed. We took turns paddling. The sun tried to come out a few times. But it
couldn’t break through the high clouds.

My neck was throbbing and I felt a little dizzy by the time Ramos announced it was time to stop for the day. We pulled the canoes to a wide, grassy area on the shore.

Then we carried the tents and other supplies across the grass to a flat, dry circle surrounded by tall trees. I saw a rabbit watching us from the edge of the woods. Two squawking blue jays swooped through the low branches of the trees.

The air carried a chill. The sky darkened to charcoal gray.

“We need lots of firewood,” Ramos instructed. “After we cook our food, we’ll want to keep the fire going for warmth. Get going, guys.”

He set to work on the tents. The five of us made our way into the woods.

I was walking with David and Marty. But when I bent down to pick up some long twigs, they wandered away. I saw the two girls on the other side of a clump of tall reeds. They were struggling to pick up a fat log from the ground.

“Russell—find any wasps’ nests?” Marty called.

“Not yet!” I shouted back.

“We’re staying as far away from you as we can,” David said.

Erin said something, but I couldn’t hear her. I was staring at something caught in the brambles of a low bush.

At first I thought it was a small white bird. But bending down, I saw that it was an arrow. A stone arrowhead with a wooden shaft and a long white feather attached. “Weird,” I muttered.

I picked it up to study it. Was it an Indian arrow?

“Hey—check this out!” Charlotte called. Carrying the arrow, I hurried over to her. She held up a small brown object. “I found it resting against that tree.”

“A doll?” I asked.

She nodded. “It’s made of some kind of leather. And it’s wearing a long dress, all fringed. It’s an Indian papoose.”

“It’s a
Native American
papoose,” Erin corrected her, taking it from Charlotte.

I showed them the feathered arrow. “Remember? Native Americans lived in these woods for hundreds of years,” I said.

“But these things are brand-new,” Erin replied.

“How could that be?” Charlotte asked, running her finger over the fresh white feather of the arrow. “Ramos told us the Indians were driven out a hundred years ago. So how did these things get here?”

“It’s a mystery,” Erin said. She handed the little leather doll back to Charlotte. “A real mystery.”

I heard the Indian drums again that night.

We all gobbled up dinner—hot dogs on the fire and sandwiches left over from lunch. We were starving.

We showed Ramos the doll and the feathered
arrow. But he couldn’t explain them. He was as puzzled as we were.

After dinner, Ramos asked if we wanted to sit around and tell jokes. But we were all yawning. Aching and exhausted from the long day of canoe paddling.

The tents formed a tight circle around the fire. The shadows of the flames danced on the nylon tent walls.

We divided up and climbed wearily into the tents. Marty and I shared a tent. I left the tent flap open so that we could watch the fire.

We pulled off our muddy shoes. Then we climbed into our sleeping bags in our clothes.

“How is your wasp sting?” Marty asked, yawning.

“Not too bad,” I whispered. “It itches a little, but it’s okay.”

I turned and saw that he was sound asleep.

I settled into my sleeping bag and stared out at the red-orange flames licking up at the darkness.

I wasn’t sure how much time went by when the drumbeats began.

Low and distant. A slow, steady
thrum…thrum…thrum
.

Indian drums, I thought.

I pictured the leather doll, the feathered arrow.

I picked up my head and gazed out through the tent flap. The fire had died down. The flames were small now, sparks above the purple embers.

Thrum…thrum…thrum…

Soft drumbeats from the woods. From all around.

All around the circle of the clearing, I thought.

Thrum…thrum…

Soft but close…so close.

I fell asleep to the slow, steady rhythm of the drumbeats. I slept a deep, dreamless sleep.

I jerked awake the next morning—sat straight up—stared out at the gray morning light.

What woke me up?

A scream?

Yes. A hideous, deafening scream of pain.

Ramos!

I reached over and frantically shook Marty awake.

“Wake up!” I cried. “It’s Ramos! Do you hear that scream? It’s Ramos!”

Ramos’s screams echoed off the trees.

I pulled on my sneakers and scrambled out of the tent.

Charlotte and Erin were awake, standing tensely in front of the dead campfire. Charlotte’s red hair stood out in all directions. Erin was struggling to tug down the sleeves of her sweatshirt.

They turned to me, their eyes wide with fright. Marty hopped out of the tent, pulling on his left boot.

David came climbing out of the tent he shared with Ramos. “What’s happening?” he asked, his voice still hoarse from sleep. “Is that Ramos screaming?”

Before anyone could answer, Ramos roared across the clearing, holding his right arm tightly against his side. His face was red. His dark eyes were half shut from pain.

“Oh, man. Oh, man,” he moaned.

“Ramos—what happened?” Charlotte cried. We
all ran across the grass toward him.

“My arm,” he moaned. “I—I think I tore something.”

He dropped into a sitting position in front of the dead fire. “Oh, man—it hurts.” He gripped the arm tightly, holding it stiffly against him.

We huddled around him. “What happened? What did you do to it?” I asked.

He groaned in pain. “I went out early to chop more firewood for this morning,” he said. He looked around. “Where’s the ax? Oh, man. I left it in the woods.”

“I’ll go get it,” I said.

He motioned for me to stay where I was. “I was chopping a log in two—and I heard something snap. In my arm. The pain is
unbelievable
!”

He motioned to David. “Bring me some water. It’s in the pack over there. I…I’m so dry.”

“Do you think you broke your arm?” Marty asked him.

David handed the water bottle to Ramos. Ramos tilted it to his mouth and took a long drink. “No. I didn’t break the bone,” he said, wincing in pain. “I think I tore a tendon.”

He drank down the rest of the water and crushed the plastic bottle in his good hand. “I can’t believe this,” he muttered. “I won’t be able to paddle at all.”

My heart jumped. “Do you mean we have to go back to camp?” I asked.

Ramos shook his head. He glanced at the river. “No. We’re too close. The falls are less than half an hour away. You…you’ll just have to go over them without me.”

I gasped. I could feel my stomach tighten. “Go without you?” I whispered.

Holding his arm, Ramos struggled to his feet. “I’m really sorry I won’t be able to help. But you guys can do it without me. I know you can.”

“But—if we get in trouble…” Erin started to say. “If we need help…”

“You’ll help each other,” Ramos told her. He groaned in pain. “Listen, guys—leave everything here in the supply canoe. We’ll pick it up on the way back. Just have some breakfast. Get into your life jackets. Take the two canoes. And go.”

“But where will you be?” I asked.

“I’m going to start walking now,” he answered. “I’ll wait for you down below the falls. I’ll be watching the whole thing from the shore.”

“But, Ramos—” Erin objected.

“No more questions,” he groaned. “Good luck, everyone. Make me proud.”

Holding his arm limply at his side, Ramos turned and started away, walking quickly. We watched him make his way out of the clearing.

When he reached the shore, he gazed at the canoes for a moment. Then he turned and started to follow the river.

He didn’t look back.

The five of us didn’t say anything for a while.

Marty kicked the crushed water bottle into the fire. The bottle sent up a cloud of ashes.

“Guess we might as well get going,” Charlotte said.

“Yeah,” I said softly. “Let’s get it over with.” A shiver ran down my back. “We can do it…right?”

Our paddles splashed in the water. The canoe felt empty without Ramos.

I sat in the back. Charlotte took the front. I raised the paddle, then pushed…raised the paddle, then pushed. Copying Charlotte’s rhythm.

Trying not to think about where we were headed.

My life jacket seemed to weigh a hundred pounds. Large drops of sweat started to roll down my forehead, stinging my eyes.

Through the morning gray, I saw a tall deer watching us from the shore. The sun, trying to poke through the clouds, cast a white glare over the flowing water.

The canoe rocked as water splashed up in front of us. The current is definitely speeding up, I realized.

The river grew wider. The tangled trees along the banks suddenly seemed a lot farther away.

I leaned forward and paddled harder. Our two canoes slid through the water side by side.

“Whoa!” I cried out as we tossed over an onrushing wave. The canoe slapped the water hard as it came back down.

Swirls of water made circles of white, foamy waves. The canoe bumped again, harder this time.

“We’re getting close,” Marty said. “The river is starting to get rough.”

A wave of fear swept over me. We need Ramos for this, I thought. It isn’t safe to be doing this on our own.

I wondered if the others were thinking the same thing.

I was so surprised when Erin spoke up. “Maybe we should turn back,” she said. “I don’t feel right without Ramos. I mean, what if one of us falls into the river? What if our canoes crack up on the rocks?”

“Erin, go climb in Russell’s canoe!” David joked. “The two of you could hold each other’s hands.”

“Not funny,” Erin snapped.

Our canoes tossed up, then slapped back down.

“Russell, are you getting seasick?” David asked.

“No way! This is fun!” I lied. “I hope it gets rougher than this. This is kind of babyish.”

I’m going to be the bravest one here, I vowed to myself. Even if it
kills
me!

Foamy white water swirled up in front of us, then splashed down into the canoe. The canoe rocked from side to side as water slapped the sides.

I bounced into the air and nearly dropped my paddle. Charlotte’s hair flew wildly behind her head.
Our faces were wet from the cold spray.

“Guys, I’m serious!” Erin shouted. “This is too scary! And we haven’t even come to the falls!”

I was so glad she was saying this, and not me. But would anyone listen?

“Erin, just keep paddling,” Marty said. “You’ll be okay. Really.”

“We won’t be okay!” Erin cried, her voice shrill and trembling. “We’re going over steep falls, and we’re going to crash into rocks below!”

Charlotte suddenly spoke up. “We have to do this!” she shouted, bouncing up as a wave tossed the canoe. “We can’t be the first senior campers in history not to go over Forbidden Falls!”

“But the others all had a counselor with them!” Erin protested.

“So we’ll be the first
without
a counselor!” I shouted. “We’ll be famous!”

Everyone turned to look at me. “Russell—you’re the man!” Marty yelled. “You’re the man!”

We all had to shout over the roar of the water. White-capped waves splashed against the canoes on all sides. The canoes bounced beneath us.

Our canoe went into a wild spin. Charlotte and I stabbed the paddles harder and held firm. “Whooooaaa!” We both laughed as we finally straightened out the canoe.

Paddling hard, I turned to the other canoe. Marty sat in front. He was drenched with water. His hair
was matted to his head. Water rose up into the canoe. Splashed against the front of his life jacket.

Erin, in the middle, leaned forward. She seemed to be ducking behind Marty, letting him shield her. Her face was very pale in the gray light. Even from my boat I could see the fear tightening her face.

David stared straight ahead. His eyes were narrowed. His face was set. His body was tensed, alert, ready for anything. As the canoe bounced and rocked, his expression didn’t change.

Our canoe bumped down hard, then bumped again, as if going down steep stairs. “We—we’re almost there!” I shouted to Charlotte.

She shouted a reply, but I couldn’t hear her over the roar of the rushing water. The canoe shot forward, rocking harder. The current pulled us faster…faster.

“Look out!” I shouted as the swirling waves tossed the canoe toward the shore. “Too close!”

Tall gray rocks jutted up along both sides of the riverbank.

We struggled to paddle back to the middle. The river dipped sharply here, and the current kept pushing us to the shore.

Cold water splashed over me. I gasped and sucked in a shuddering breath.

So close…

The rushing current carried us forward, faster…faster….

Charlotte and I stopped paddling. I gripped the sides of the canoe tightly, holding on for dear life.

“Here we go.
Here we go!
”

I tried to remember Ramos’s instructions. But they had flown out of my head.

I couldn’t remember. I couldn’t think.

I couldn’t move.

The rushing water roared in my ears. Waves rose up all around us, as if reaching for us. The canoe tilted to one side, heaving me hard. I felt myself start to tumble out.

Then the canoe tilted to the other side. I fell back into place.

Charlotte’s hair flew in the wind, flapping behind her like a red pennant.

Where were the others? Close behind us? I didn’t dare turn around to look back.

Charlotte and I were going down first!

The river dipped. Dipped again…

And as the canoe rushed toward the falls, I couldn’t help it.

I opened my mouth in a deafening, shrill scream.