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Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9781450273756 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | iUniverse, Incorporated |
| Publication date: | 12/14/2010 |
| Sold by: | Barnes & Noble |
| Format: | eBook |
| Pages: | 120 |
| File size: | 684 KB |
| Age Range: | 13 - 17 Years |
About the Author
Read an Excerpt
Camping Reservations: Body of Lies
By Terri Kaye Duncan
iUniverse, Inc.
Copyright © 2010 Terri Kaye DuncanAll right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4502-7374-9
Chapter One
Camp Is Not Camping
Sarah was now certain beyond a shadow of a doubt that she had the meanest, cruelest parents on the face of the earth. This was the ultimate proof. While the rest of her friends were having the time of their lives at Camp Wallhalla's Teen Scene Week, swimming and dancing with really cool counselors, she was being forced against her will to go camping with her parents! It was a nightmare, a teenager's disaster! She glared from the backseat into the rearview mirror. "Come on, honey," said her father in a soothing voice as he caught a glimpse of her evil look, "this is going to be great! After all, weren't you the one who wanted to go camping?"
Sarah rolled her eyes. Sometimes, parents could be so thick!
"How many times do I have to tell you? I wanted to go to Camp Wallhalla with my friends, Dad! I wanted to bunk in a cabin with Beth and Shelley, and instead, I'm going to be crammed into a tin can on wheels with you and mom for four days!" she groaned.
Sarah's mom twisted around from the front seat. "I wouldn't call a twenty-nine-foot deluxe travel trailer a 'tin can on wheels.' Look at it this way. You'll have electricity, running water, a bathroom, a kitchen, and air-conditioning for Pete's sake. Your friends aren't exactly at Club Med, you know! Why, I'll bet they'll be wishing they were with you by tomorrow!" she said cheerfully.
"Whatever," retorted Sarah. Who cared about mere luxuries in living conditions? The most vital camping component was available only at Camp Wallhalla—boys. The only boys she was likely to come in contact with while camping with her parents were prepubescent geeks more interested in whittling fishing poles than dancing the night away underneath a starry sky! All she had to look forward to were the stories Beth and Shelley would tell upon their return. She could hear them now, going on and on about gorgeous guys by the beach area, slow dancing with them at night, and midnight campfire stories. And she was quite certain that they would fill her in on every move her dreamboat, Connor Baxter III, made. Sarah knew that he'd be roasting some girl's marshmallows, but it sure wouldn't be hers!
For weeks, Sarah, Shelley, and Beth had talked about, plotted, and planned every move they would make at Camp Wallhalla. They had listed their wardrobes in minute detail, bought bathing suits in coordinating colors, and secretly stashed myriad essential beauty products to try out during free time. And since love and summer camp went hand-in-hand, they had each staked a claim on a boy. Sarah selected Connor, Beth chose Jeff Ingleside, and Shelley was fairly certain that she would pick Jason Thompson, though she was leaving her options open.
As the day to leave for camp got closer, Beth received her welcoming packet with instructions about what to bring and what not to bring. The next day, Shelley's packet arrived. Sarah waited two more days before asking her mom to please call the camp's main office and find out if her information had been lost in the mail. That was when the nightmare officially began.
"What camp are you talking about, dear?" asked her mother absentmindedly as she flipped through the newspaper.
Sarah threw her hands up in the air in exasperation. "Mo-ther! What have I been talking about for like six weeks? Camp Wallhalla's Teen Scene Week! Remember? I asked about it weeks ago and gave you and Dad the application. You said it was fine for me to go. Is this coming back now or what?"
Mrs. Williford looked up. "I don't think I like the way you're talking to me, young lady. Yes, I do seem to recall that conversation, but that's the last I remember hearing about Camp Whatever You Call It. Anyway, I didn't send the application off. You know your dad handles the bills, but I'm sure he sent it off," she said, turning her attention back to the newspaper.
A sense of foreboding came over Sarah. This was not good. This was definitely not good. But she would not panic ... yet.
With shaking fingers, Sarah dialed her father's office number only to learn that he was out of the office for the remainder of the day. For the next three hours, she nervously paced the floor in her room, awaiting her father's arrival home from work. Finally, Sarah heard the car door slam. She raced down the stairs and swung the front door open.
"Well, well," said Mr. Williford, taken aback by his daughter's abrupt greeting. "To what do I owe this surprise? The last time you were waiting for me at the door was when you were about seven and still as sweet as sugar! Come give your daddy a big hug, and let's see if you're still as sweet!" He dropped his briefcase and held out his arms.
"Yeah, yeah, whatever," sighed Sarah, stepping into his outstretched arms ever so briefly, and then stepping back into the foyer. "Now, I've got to know. Did you send off the application to Camp Wallhalla's Teen Scene Week? You should have mailed it over a month ago. Please, please, please tell me that you mailed it. Otherwise, my life is over."
"Ah hah! I should have known there was a motive behind this greeting. For a fleeting moment, I thought you were glad to see dear, old Dad just like in the olden days." He sighed as he stooped down to retrieve his briefcase.
"Dad, this is no time to reminisce! Did you or did you not mail that application?" she asked.
"I have no clue what you're talking about, Sarah," he announced as he walked down the hallway. "Why don't you ask your mom? She usually handles all your extracurricular activities, not me."
That was when utter, total panic officially set in.
Chapter Two
You Can't Make Me
"Are you telling me," she nearly wailed, "that you didn't mail the application to Camp Wallhalla's Teen Scene Week?"
Mr. Williford turned around. "I'm telling you with the utmost certainty that I did not mail any application to any camp, anywhere."
That was when the nightmare became a reality. Sarah bawled and screamed and pitched a fit. Her father said that if she acted like that, she was not going anywhere at any time. Her mother, hearing the ruckus, attempted to calm them both down by telling Sarah that she would call the camp and explain the situation. Surely there would be an opening or a last-minute cancellation. Of course, as Sarah's luck would have it, there was not. For the next few days, Sarah moped around the house, refusing all attempts by her parents to placate her. Beth and Shelley were dismayed by the turn of events and change of plans. They tried desperately to soothe their inconsolable friend by telling her what an awful time they would have without her. They also assured her that they would monitor Connor's every move and ward off any attempts by other female campers to capture his attention, but their assurances did little to assuage Sarah's emotional turmoil. Her summer was, without a doubt, absolutely ruined.
As if one disaster were not enough, another soon followed. On the very day that all of her friends and everyone else who was anyone at all were arriving at Camp Wallhalla for a week of sheer teenage bliss with no parents present, her father arrived home from work grinning from ear to ear. He practically forced Sarah out of her bedroom, where she was determined to spend the week in solitary confinement, and marched her to the front door. Swinging it open, he shouted, "Ta da!"
Sarah looked up, her eyes red and puffy from crying. Sitting in the driveway behind her father's truck was a massive travel trailer. She looked at the monstrosity and then at her father. Her tear-stained face suddenly filled with fear. This could not be happening. She had been through enough already thanks to her careless, thoughtless parents, but it appeared that the nightmare would never end.
"Dad," she asked, her voice quivering, "what is that, and why is it in our driveway?"
"That, my dear," he said, putting his arm around her shoulder, "is a twenty-nine-foot, deluxe home away from home! It has all the conveniences of a king's castle, and it's ours for the rest of the week!"
Sarah froze, her eyes wide with terror. "Exactly what are you telling me?"
"Well," Mr. Williford answered, pushing her out the door toward the camper, "your mother and I know how disappointed you are about not being able to go camping, and we feel responsible for what happened. So, I worked it out with a buddy of mine at work to let us use this travel trailer for the whole, entire week. Come on in! Let me give you the grand tour, my lady! You're not going to believe what all this baby has. Why, I bet by the end of the week, we'll be buying our own!"
Sarah, who had been in a bit of a stupor because of her father's announcement, stopped short of the doorway of the travel trailer. She planted her feet solidly on the front lawn.
"There is no way that I'm going camping in this thing with my parents!" she announced.
Her father turned to look at her, his face a mixture of genuine surprise, anger, and disappointment. "Now wait just a cotton pickin' minute! Am I mistaken, or have you been sitting around this house for days pouting because you're not going camping?"
Sarah rolled her eyes. Could her parents possibly be more ignorant? Had they ever been teenagers? Did they even live on the same planet as she did?
"I have no desire to go 'camping,' Dad! I wanted to go off to camp with all my friends! There's a massive difference. This," she said, pointing to the travel trailer, "is nothing but a mobile jail cell! Camp Wallhalla would have been total freedom! Don't you get it? There's no way I'm going on some kind of survival expedition with my parents, and you can't make me!"
Chapter Three
Petersburg Campground
Sarah's father could and did make her go camping. All it took was his threatening to pack for her, and she went stomping up to her room. Now, less than twenty-four miserable hours later, she sat in the backseat of her father's extended cab pick-up truck headed to the lake with her parents. Though it was a warm and sunny day, Sarah felt nothing but darkness and gloom. Here she was, a so-called child at fourteen years old, constantly subjected to lectures from her parents about responsibility and making wise decisions, and they—the adults—were the irresponsible ones who caused her to miss the trip of a lifetime. To add insult to injury, they made this ridiculous decision to go camping in the woods as a family! That certainly did not qualify as a wise decision in her book. Where were their brains?
For the remainder of the drive, Mr. and Mrs. Williford simply ignored Sarah and allowed her to sulk. They cheerfully discussed long walks, bike rides, and campfires, and shared memories about their youth and all the fun they had once had camping with friends and family. Sarah stared out the window plotting an escape, or, at the very least, a sudden illness. As they drove down the four-lane highway, she watched all signs of civilization disappear. With each mile, the number of shopping centers and neighborhoods grew sparser while the number of trees and signs of wilderness increased. Soon, there were no golden arches, movie theaters, or any other fun-filled places in sight. In a matter of miles, the world had been transformed from a thriving, urban mecca to a rural expanse of wooded wasteland. A small convenience store with a tin roof and two ancient gas pumps seemed to be the final link to society, and that was a questionable observation given the appearance of the ramshackle building.
When Mr. Williford made the final turn onto the narrow, two-lane road leading to the campground, Sarah groaned. Stretching before her as far as the eye could see were more pine trees and the occasional hardwood. Needless to say, nature did not interest her in the least. She dug her cell phone out of her pocket and looked at the screen. Just as she suspected, there was no signal. Now she really had no connection to the outside world.
By the time the Willifords arrived at the entrance to Petersburg Campground, Sarah had yet to come up with a viable plan of escape. She might as well be imprisoned at Alcatraz. This forest seemed as impenetrable as those prison walls. Unless a tornado came and picked her up like Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz, she was almost certainly doomed to spend four days in this pine tree hell.
Her father slowly approached the tiny check-in building and rolled down his window. A gray-haired man with twinkling eyes and a cheerful smile leaned out to greet the family.
"Welcome to Petersburg! Looks like ya'll are checkin' in," he called.
"Not if it's up to me," Sarah muttered angrily.
Mr. Williford ignored his sullen daughter's comment and answered the gentleman in a chipper voice. "We sure are! This is our first time roughin' it in about fifteen years, so we're ready to hit the woods!"
The older man looked at the travel trailer hitched to the truck and chuckled. "Well, now, I believe I like your idea of roughin' it! Ya'll got a reservation?"
At his question, Sarah perked up. Reservation? Of course, they didn't have a reservation! This was a spur-of-the-moment, hair-brained scheme. Now, they would have to go back home, and this entire miserable expedition would have to be scratched! This disaster would be averted after all! For the first time in days, a very satisfied smile appeared on Sarah's face.
Meanwhile, Mr. and Mrs. Williford glanced at each other. "Well," stammered Mr. Williford awkwardly, "I guess it's been awhile since we've been camping. We had no idea reservations were necessary."
The gray-haired gentleman told the family to wait just a minute and wandered into the tiny check-in building. He glanced at a computer screen and sauntered back to the doorway.
"How long were ya'll plannin' on stayin'?"
"We were planning to spend the rest of the week, but our schedule is flexible," Mr. Williford answered.
The man looked back at them and grinned. "Well, we ought to be able to fix you up for a few days! We've got a mess of sites open 'til Friday. Got a bunch of people comin' in for the weekend though. In fact, last time I checked, the whole place is full up! Personally, I prefer the weekdays when things are nice and quiet and peaceful around here. Let's see. Why don't I set ya'll up on site 74. That one's easy to get in and out of, it's not too far from the bathhouse, and it's got a right pretty view of the water."
While her father and the campground's attendant filled out paperwork and discussed the joys of outdoor living, Sarah slouched in the backseat, glowering. Fine, she thought. Let them have their ridiculous camping trip. They could certainly make her go, but there was no way they could make her have a good time. She would not lift a finger to help, and she intended to do her best to make them as miserable as she was. That would show them!
Then, a thought suddenly occurred to her. Why, they had probably planned this all along! When she brought up Camp Wallhalla, it had obviously brought back fond memories, and the two of them had somehow manipulated the situation to make her miss Teen Scene Week and go camping with them instead as some kind of family-bonding experience. This whole thing was a parental conspiracy! By the time they pulled away from the station and headed toward site 74, Sarah had convinced herself that she was the victim of a well-designed plot to keep her away from Camp Wallhalla. Boy, would she show them!
The truck slowly meandered down the winding road toward the campsite. The thick woods of tall pines surrounded them.
"Look!" whispered her mother excitedly, pointing out the window. "Deer!"
Though Sarah was fuming, she glanced up. A graceful doe glanced their way and then continued feeding. From out of a nearby thicket bounded a tiny fawn covered in white spots. Only then did the mother deer turn toward the woods and begin loping deeper into the trees, her baby following closely behind.
"Weren't they beautiful?" asked Mrs. Williford, turning to look at Sarah. Though Sarah thought so too, she was determined not to give her mother the satisfaction of a response. She simply grunted and looked out the opposite window. Her lack of enthusiasm, however, did not deter her mother, who was now having an animated discussion with her husband about the area's flora and fauna.
I hope they both get poison oak and get eaten alive by mosquitoes, Sarah thought angrily.
Mr. Williford made a sharp right turn and drove down a steep hill. To the left was a cement block building nestled in the trees.
"Oh, wonderful!" exclaimed Mrs. Williford. "We really will be convenient to the bathhouse!"
Over my dead body, thought Sarah. Aloud, she said, "I thought your luxury travel trailer had a bathroom. I'm not about to step into that public roach motel and snake pit."
(Continues...)
Excerpted from Camping Reservations: Body of Lies by Terri Kaye Duncan Copyright © 2010 by Terri Kaye Duncan. Excerpted by permission of iUniverse, Inc.. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
Table of Contents
Contents
Chapter 1 Camp Is Not Camping....................1Chapter 2 You Can't Make Me....................4
Chapter 3 Petersburg Campground....................7
Chapter 4 The Camping Commandments....................12
Chapter 5 The Secrets Are Out....................16
Chapter 6 Cory's Theory....................20
Chapter 7 Plans and Proof....................25
Chapter 8 Meet the Parents....................27
Chapter 9 Invitations....................30
Chapter 10 Travel Trailer Trouble....................32
Chapter 11 Ready and Waiting....................35
Chapter 12 The First Supper....................37
Chapter 13 Truth and Consequences....................39
Chapter 14 The Next Step....................41
Chapter 15 The Plan Thickens....................44
Chapter 16 S'mores and More....................46
Chapter 17 Dark Skies, Lighter Moods....................48
Chapter 18 Watching and Waiting....................51
Chapter 19 Stakeout....................55
Chapter 20 Patience Is a Virtue....................58
Chapter 21 A Day at the Lake....................61
Chapter 22 The Canoe Lesson....................65
Chapter 23 The Marvelous Moonlight....................69
Chapter 24 The Unexpected....................73
Chapter 25 Parent Problems....................76
Chapter 26 Island of No Return....................79
Chapter 27 Time to Be Heard....................85
Chapter 28 Help at Last....................88
Chapter 29 The Inquisitions....................91
Chapter 30 Coming to a Close....................94
Chapter 31 The Truth Comes Out....................98
Chapter 32 One More Night....................103
Chapter 33 Home at Last....................107