Phil and the Ghost of Camp Ch-Yo-Ca (10 page)

YOU WAIT WITH JOHN LUKE IN SILENCE
until it’s been so long that the chainsaw man has to be gone. You’re not frightened. Nah. Around these parts, crazy situations make people do crazy things. You’ve seen it all. Maybe that chainsaw-wielding madman just needs a hug.

“I think we should take off now,” you tell John Luke.

“In my Jeep?”

You give him a big thumbs-down. “No. Too loud. Hmm . . .” The hitchhiker you met earlier crosses your mind. “Let’s take the woods to the main road. Then try to see about flagging down a ride.”

It takes about half an hour to hike to the main road. You don’t see or hear any more from the chainsaw guy.

“What do you think that dude was trying to do?” John Luke asks.

“Usually when someone is trying to break into my house with a chainsaw, I don’t stick around to ask,” you tell him. “I’m pretty sure he wasn’t there to sell Girl Scout cookies.”

You’ve just started walking down the road when you see the lights from an approaching car. Both you and John Luke wave it down with wild arm gestures.

“We’ll get him to take us to the police station,” you tell John Luke.

It’s a good idea.

Until you see the driver.

He’s wearing a hockey mask. And it’s not even hockey season.

That’s not the only problem.

He’s got friends.

“Uh, you know what?” you say. “I think we’re okay on foot.”

But the doors all open, and you realize there’s a whole hockey team getting out of the car.

“John Luke, go!” you shout.

You run as fast as you can on John Luke’s heels, weaving through the woods until you lose these guys. Come to think of it, walking home on the back roads might be a better plan after all
 
—no matter how long it takes. This will be some story to tell the police.

THE END

Start over.

Read “The Shadows That Follow Us: A Note from John Luke Robertson.”

A BREEZE WAKES YOU UP.
It takes you a minute to remember you're at the camp, sleeping on a bunk bed. As your eyes adjust, you notice that the front door to the cabin is open. Then you turn your head and realize John Luke's bed is empty.

He must have gone outside for some reason.

He's sleepwalking.

This is a truth about John Luke that nobody knows except his family. Yes, he sleepwalks. But it's not normal sleepwalking. Sometimes the sleepwalking lasts for days. His entire sophomore year of high school was spent in one big sleepwalk. It took well-paid professionals to revive him that time.

Now he only awakens to the phrase
Butter on a biscuit
.

But he obviously has to be within hearing range for this phrase to work.

“John Luke?” You search the cabin in case he's still here. “Butter on a biscuit.”

But he's nowhere.

You sigh, putting on some clothes and trudging outside.

“Butter on a biscuit!” you shout. No need to keep it down
 
—there's not a soul around to hear you. Surely you'd sound like a crazy person screaming about biscuits, but then again John Luke probably
looks
like a crazy person walking around in his pajamas in the middle of the night.

“Butter on a biscuit!”

You listen carefully. Nothing.

You better head to the lake just to make sure he's not swimming while asleep. You're not sure how sleepwalking works exactly, but it might be dangerous to go sleepswimming. Who knows.

One time John Luke went out on a sleepwalking date with a girl from school. Every time she spoke, he just nodded and said funny things like “I love bacon.” She assumed he was being goofy. But when he dropped her off and she said good-bye, he said, “I'll miss you, Clarise.” That wasn't the girl's name, so she got upset. John Luke later had to explain he was sleepwalking the whole time.

For some reason, she didn't believe him.

As you make your way down the hill toward the water, you hear someone singing. It takes you a minute to register that it's John Luke.

He's dancing on the dock and acting like he's holding a microphone.

What in the world? This is a new symptom.

John Luke doesn't notice you walking toward the “stage.”

“‘Oh, oh,'” he shouts. “‘That's what makes you beautiful.'”

You smile. “Thank you, John Luke. I feel beautiful.”

He keeps singing and dancing, and you can't help but watch for a moment. Then you call out, “Butter on a biscuit,” and he snaps to.

“Papaw Phil,” he says, looking around him in confusion. “Was I . . . ?”

“Yep.”

John Luke steps off the dock, stumbling a bit. “Was I singing and . . . ?”

“Yep.”

“Did anybody else . . . ?”

“Nope.” You rest a hand on his shoulder, trying not to laugh. “Your secret is safe with me.”

The free John Luke concert is over. For tonight, anyway.

John Luke's antics are the only strange sights or sounds you find at the camp that night. You'll just have to tell Isaiah his “ghost” never showed up.

THE END

Start over.

Read “The Shadows That Follow Us: A Note from John Luke Robertson.”

“JOHN LUKE, YOU BETTER GO INTO THE CABIN
and wait for me.”

“What was that?” he asks.

“I don’t know, but I’m going to find out.”

“I can go with you.”

“Yes, you could, but I think it’s best you stay here.”

John Luke doesn’t argue, even though the look on his face tells you he thinks it’s a bad idea.

“You have your cell, right?” you ask. “You call the cops if something funny happens.”

“Somebody was just screaming in the woods,” John Luke says. “That’s not funny?”

“If something
else
happens. While I’m gone.”

“Like if I hear you scream?”

Good point.

“I won’t be screaming. You won’t hear that.” You pause and think for a moment. “And if I’m not back in an hour, then get out of here, okay?”

Now John Luke looks like he
really
thinks this is a bad idea.

You watch him head to the cabin and shut the door before you venture into the darkness, in the direction of the scream.

The farther into the forest you get, the more pitch-black it becomes.

You hear branches cracking ahead like someone’s running off.

An owl makes its hooting call somewhere behind you. The nightly sounds of the Louisiana wilderness surround you.

Then another
ch-ch-ch-ka-ka-ka
seems to whisper to you.

You grasp the handle of your machete.

More tree limbs snap and break, but this time you can’t tell where they are.

You hear something right behind you and turn around. “John Luke? Is that you? If that’s you, tell me now.”

Nothing.

The darkness of the woods doesn’t frighten you, nor do the strange sounds. The scariest thing would be if something happened to John Luke. And you want to keep yourself safe too.

Miss Kay would get upset if I didn’t make it home.

You retrace your steps. Then you notice something through the trees in front of you that looks like a fire.

It
is
a fire. But it’s too big to be the campfire you just came from.

Oh no.
One of the cabins must be on fire.

John Luke.

You run through the woods like you haven’t run in twenty-five years. You see flames consuming the cabin John Luke just entered. You can detect the scent of gasoline all around you.

You know someone did this on purpose.

A part of you almost dives into the flames because you don’t see John Luke. At first.

But then you notice the figure in the driver’s seat of the Jeep. It’s him.

You rush over to the vehicle and try the door, but it’s locked. John Luke jumps and turns to you. He opens the door, but you can tell something’s wrong.

Does John Luke start rambling about a disturbing encounter from his childhood? What does this have to do with the fire? (There’s a connection
 
—promise.)
Go here
.

Does John Luke tell you he knows how the fire started? (Finally, a chance to learn the truth.)
Go here
.

Does John Luke confess to something you can hardly believe? (This is going to be good!)
Go here
.