Camping Reservations: Body of Lies

Contents

Chapter 1 Camp Is Not Camping

Chapter 2 You Can’t Make Me

Chapter 3 Petersburg Campground

Chapter 4 The Camping Commandments

Chapter 5 The Secrets Are Out

Chapter 6 Cory’s Theory

Chapter 7 Plans and Proof

Chapter 8 Meet the Parents

Chapter 9 Invitations

Chapter 10 Travel Trailer Trouble

Chapter 11 Ready and Waiting

Chapter 12 The First Supper

Chapter 13 Truth and Consequences

Chapter 14 The Next Step

Chapter 15 The Plan Thickens

Chapter 16 S’mores and More

Chapter 17 Dark Skies, Lighter Moods

Chapter 18 Watching and Waiting

Chapter 19 Stakeout

Chapter 20 Patience Is a Virtue

Chapter 21 A Day at the Lake

Chapter 22 The Canoe Lesson

Chapter 23 The Marvelous Moonlight

Chapter 24 The Unexpected

Chapter 25 Parent Problems

Chapter 26 Island of No Return

Chapter 27 Time to Be Heard

Chapter 28 Help at Last

Chapter 29 The Inquisitions

Chapter 30 Coming to a Close

Chapter 31 The Truth Comes Out

Chapter 32 One More Night

Chapter 33 Home at Last

Chapter 1

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 2

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,