I hadn’t thought of Camp Forest Lake in years, not until I moved back to my hometown recently and remembered what I had tried so desperately to leave behind. As a kid, summer camp was what I lived for. Thoughts of floating in the fathomless, shaded lake, hiking through dense forests of ancient trees, and watching a writhing bonfire throw shadows across rock cliffs and young faces got me through endless mind-numbing school days and strict parenting throughout the year. It was the only place I felt that I got to truly be myself, and the place where I made my closest friends. When I hit 16, I could finally become a counselor. It had been a goal since I started going to camp at age 10. The lifeguards and camp leaders were the height of cool to my childhood brain, and all I wanted was to be as confident and popular as them.
My best friend, Josh Whitley, had been a counselor for a year before me, and I couldn’t have been more jealous. Josh was a classic extrovert, the always smiling face that made kids feel right at home. He was also a trickster and quick to whisper a dirty joke to the older teens when the adults weren’t in ear-shot. As a counselor, he had less time to spend with me, and got much closer to his co-workers. I spent that last summer bitterly jealous. I arrived at camp that last year with more excitement than ever, and was immediately crushed in a bear hug that lifted me off the ground and knocked all the air from my body. Josh had apparently had a growth spurt during the year and had gained enough muscle mass to make me think he’d bruised a couple of my ribs.
“Watch it, Godzilla,” I coughed when he let me down. He slapped me on the back as I tried to reinflate my lungs.“ Missed you too!” He moved to hug me again and I dodged this time. “This is going to be our best summer yet,” he promised. Josh took great pride in giving me a tour as a “seasoned counselor,” I humored him by asking questions anyway. The only area’s I hadn’t seen before were the ones off-limits to the campers. He showed me the office inside the main building where records were kept, the gate at the edge of the property that only the owner had the key to, and most interesting at the time, the wooden shed just beyond the clearing with all the cabins. It turned out that in addition to holding all the toys and equipment, it was also where the counselors went to hang out and to hide from supervisors and campers. He nodded to Kyle, as we entered. Kyle, Jessie, and some others I don’t remember the names of were the other counselors that year. They’d already moved the equipment to make space for a set of stools and a small table mostly hidden behind a stack of inflatable rafts.
“You remember Kyle, right? Josh asked me. Kyle raised his fist to bump and I accidentally grabbed it in a handshake. My face got hot and Kyle and Josh laughed at me. “Come on, I’ll take you to your cabin now, you’re with the 10-11 year-olds.” Josh dragged me back out of the shed before I had time to look at the equipment further or even greet the others.
Each cabin had to have one counselor stay at night to make sure the kids didn’t cause trouble. Of course, they always made trouble anyway, and I was far from innocent. I’d snuck out most nights if the weather was clear that I could watch the stars. A couple years back though, Josh had started sneaking out with me. While he was the life of the party during the day, at night, I felt we really bonded. Josh would always bring a joint or two and we’d make our way to the lakefront to smoke. I’m sure the adults could smell the weed on us the next day, but no one cared. I’d watch the tree line of the opposite shore and listen to Josh’s musings on life through the haze of smoke and fog. I think weed makes me paranoid though, because once Josh and his joints showed up , I could never shake the nervous feeling of being on display, the amplified feeling of every eye that crickets, frogs, and owls could turn on us.
At the time, I chalked it up to nerves. I was just a shy, awkward kid who wanted Josh to like me more than I could admit even to myself. And the smoking added another edge. I was too scared of my parents and too generally clueless to rebel like this during the rest of the year, so my tolerance was low. That’s why the night he brought a new strain his dealer swore by, the night he almost drowned in the lake, we couldn’t tell anyone about his near-death experience. I was so scared my parents would drag me away forever, possibly to a military school like my mom would threaten me with if either of us breathed a word. My thoughts were muddy and slow, tuning in and out of Josh’s voice like it was a radio channel when I saw shadows on the opposite shore from the dock we sat on.
The dark figure looked like a large man and I thought it must have been the camp’s owner, Mr. Steadman, although he was rarely seen outside his office back at the main complex. I elbowed Josh and gestured at the figure. He jumped slightly and the joint fell from his hand into the dark water beneath our dangling feet, extinguishing with a hiss. It was such a quiet sound, but it made the dark figure’s head whip around to face us, body springing to attention like an animal scenting prey.
My stomach dropped as I registered that all the animals around us had fallen silent. No crickets, no croaks filling the night as I was used to. Just the sound of my own breathing and Josh’s quiet cursing. Josh and I sat frozen in horror as the figure practically glided around the edge of the lake coming straight towards us. It was so threateningly graceful as it moved along the dark and rocky shore that I knew instantly it was not Mr. Stedman, a veteran with a pronounced limp. What began as a child’s fear of getting caught misbehaving transfigured into a primal terror of an animal meeting its end.
With uncanny speed, the figure had already halved the distance toward us and was now rounding the large pile of rocks separating it from the dock where we sat. Josh came back to his senses before I did, my mind still mush from the weed. He slid off the dock into the water below and dragged me with him right after. I gasped as I hit the cold water, but it jolted me back into action quickly enough to close my mouth as my head dipped below the surface of the dark water that I avoided filling my lungs with lake. Josh clung to me as our heads surfaced again. He was shaking as much as I was, both from fear and cold. But he pulled me close and we huddled under the dock, trying to tread water and cling to each other at the same time.
I looked back to the rocks where the figure had last been, and saw nothing. The night was still so quiet. After what felt like ages without any signs of our hunter, I started to swim towards the shore, sure we were no longer being stalked. But as soon as I splashed audibly, we heard footfalls on rock, then onto the creaking wood of the dock. Josh hauled me back into deep shadow and we shuddered together in renewed fear.
There was a sniffing sound and low grumbles. I braved a look upward and saw moonlight through the gaps between wooden boards. It disappeared as heavy steps shook the old structure. Whatever it was walked all the way to the end, stopped for an excruciating minute, and just as I thought it had given up, dove into the lake with a giant splash.
I saw the bulking form hit the water, and in the surge that followed, Josh and I took off through the water faster than we’d ever raced each other before. The surge of adrenaline and my screaming muscles propelled me just ahead of Josh, and I almost reached the shore closest to camp when I heard him scream. The sound pierced my ears despite the water that had filled them. I’d never heard Josh scream, never heard him cry even when he broke his arm at 13 after falling out of a tree. I whipped around just in time to see him dragged downward. His open mouth filled with water and his scream turned into a gurgle. I grabbed for his outstretched hand and managed a tenuous grip on his wrist, then his arm, and finally a firm hold on his shirt, still submerged in the water. I yanked with one hand twisted into fabric and the other arm around Josh’s back, and somehow managed to wrench his superior weight free from where he was trapped. His head reemerged, coughing and spitting up water, and moments later, we flopped onto the ground, thoroughly exhausted.
My head felt clearer than it had all night, but I thought I must still be high. I stared out across the lake and it was as still as glass. No sign of movement, not even wind rippling the water. It was like I imagined the whole thing. I could hear insects again, and the occasional owl. The signs of life resumed as if nothing had disturbed them. Perhaps I had imagined the unnatural silence too. Josh panted next to me, alternately gulping in air and spitting up water. I had one hand pressed to his back, and his skin burned even through his sodden shirt.
Once Josh had recovered his breathing, I checked him over for damage. He was missing one shoe, but otherwise unharmed. I hoped it had just gotten stuck on something in the lake. The alternative thought, that the creature we’d seen had almost drowned Josh, was too much to bear.
Finally, I broke the silence. “What the hell was that?” It sounded sharp in the quiet of the night. I couldn’t stop scanning the water looking for movement, waiting for something to happen.
Josh turned to look at me now. “Fucking Kyle,” He grumbled after he’d spit a last mouthful of water. “We started a prank war last year, but this is way too far.” I only realized how tense I’d been when an involuntary laugh escaped me. I wanted to believe that the figure that had hunted us was just Kyle and not what I’d begun to suspect. Josh glared at me, “I almost died dude, not funny.”
“Sorry,” I said. “That was messed up. I’m just glad it was Kyle and not some sort of…you know, some kind of monster.”
“Oh he’ll look like a monster once I’m through with him,” Josh grumbled. “Tomorrow I’m gonna fuck him up.“
Once Josh could breathe normally again, we got up and made our way back to the cabins. Josh didn’t even look back, but I couldn’t shake the prickling sensation along the back of my neck that told me we were being watched. Miraculously, the kids I was supposed to be watching were still sleeping as I crept back to bed. But I couldn’t sleep that night. Each time I drifted off, I dreamed Josh was drowning, being dragged deep into the lake by a creature much bigger, much stronger than Kyle.
Josh confronted Kyle in the storage shed the next day as we were supposed to be preparing for recreational time. It was just the three of us taking down equipment. I’d missed Josh that morning as he’d skipped breakfast, and the bags under his eyes told me he’d slept at least as badly as I had. Kyle and I each held one side of a canoe when Josh suddenly punched Kyle straight in the nose without any warning or restraint. Kyle and his side of the canoe both dropped, and It was all I could do to keep the entire thing from falling right on top of him as he hit the ground cradling his bleeding nose. Standing over him, Josh looked furious in a way I didn’t even know he was capable of. His fists were clenched, shoulders shaking with rage, and his red-rimmed eyes had pin-point pupils.
“That’s for your little prank last night, asshole,” he spat down at Kyle, who was still disoriented and quietly groaning. “Since you tried to kill me, I decided to return the favor.” He raised his foot to kick Kyle in the ribs, but Kyle has apparently regained enough wherewithal to knock Josh over while he was unbalanced. Josh fell backward into a pile of water toys that went scattering across the crowded space.
“The fuck?” Kyle screamed, and blood ran into his mouth when it opened. Reluctantly, I dropped my end of the canoe and stood between them. Josh might have had the element of surprise at first, but now it looked like Kyle might actually finish the job and kill him. I put a hand out as if it might actually do something.
“You tried to drown me last night!” Josh had scrambled up and I put my other hand out to stop him from crowding in again. At his words, Kyle blinked and his anger turned to confusion. “At the lake,” Josh snapped. “You tried to scare us, and then jumped in and pulled me down when that didn’t work. That’s not a prank anymore, Kyle, that’s attempted murder!” With each word, Kyle looked more confused and Josh was further enraged by Kyle’s denial. I ended up using both hands to hold Josh back by the end of his rant.
“I don’t know who you think you saw but I didn’t even go to the lake. I had much more important things to do all night, in this shed, with Jessie, if you know what I mean.” Kyle leered at the memory, and his teeth shone red as he grinned. Josh seemed about to argue, but Jessie herself had opened the door just in time to hear the last words from Kyle. She flung the oar she’d been carrying at him and screamed, “That was secret!” before storming out.
The color and rage drained out of Josh’s face as he realized Kyle was telling the truth. He looked as sick as I felt. If it hadn’t been Kyle at the lake last night, then my paranoia might be right. “But someone grabbed my leg! I felt it,” Josh sputtered. He’d backed into the corner and was shifting his gaze back and forth, begging me to back him up and Kyle to believe him.
I nodded. “I was there. Someone…or something chased us into the lake then tried to pull Josh down.”
Kyle blinked at me like he’d just realized I was there, not uncommon for me at the time. Then he said, “Look man, I don’t know what happened to you two, but I wasn’t there, and it’s pretty shitty you thought I’d do that to you. He stretched out his hand to Josh and asked, “We even?” Josh reached for the hand automatically and started to answer, “yeah,” when Kyle turned the handshake into a crushing grip and used it to pull Josh straight into a brutal gut punch. I heard the air go out of him and my own ribs twinged in sympathy. “Now we’re even.” Kyle said. “And if you and your idiot friend ever try to jump me again, you’ll wish you had drowned. Both of you.” He left after giving me a chilling glare.
I reached down to help Josh, who was wheezing for breath before me for the second time in as many days. Josh was different after that. His once bright and playful personality dimmed more each time I saw him, and he looked tired and drawn. He picked at his meals and probably slept even less. I can’t say I was much better. I got flashes of that night when I tried to sleep too. Despite Josh’s protests, I went to Mr. Stedman’s office and reported the sighting at the lake of some large animal that attacked us. I left out the part about the weed making us hallucinate it as human, and exactly how late Josh and I were out so we wouldn’t get in trouble. Josh had already suffered enough, and I was still terrified of getting sent home in shame to my prison of a home. All Mr. Stedman did was ban use of the lake until further notice, which was fine with me. I was never going back again.
Josh also refused to talk to me whenever I’d tried to bring up the lake. I wanted to know what had chased us if it hadn’t been Kyle, but Josh got agitated and changed the subject, or just walked away all together. Eventually, I stopped bringing it up. We also stopped sneaking out at night. A few times, I’d tried going by Josh’s cabin to get him to join me, but he’d wave me away and refuse to leave. Watching the stars by myself wasn’t the same anymore either, especially because despite not having Josh with me, I also didn’t feel truly alone. It was unsettling rather than relaxing, and I’d all but run back to my cabin the time I’d heard that strange stillness again. I stopped going out at night at all after that. Luckily for Kyle, Jessie forgave him for telling us about their hookup, because I started to catch them making out in any conceivable location where the kids weren’t supposed to go.
Other than that, camp was pretty typical. If anyone else had strange experiences in the night, I didn’t hear about them due to the camp’s strict curfew rules. No one wanted to get sent home early for bad behavior.
I’d just settled back into the normal routine and stopped having nightmares when I was jolted awake by a knock on the window above my bed. For the first few nights after Josh the ordeal, I’d locked and covered the windows at night, but the heat and incessant complaining from my kids had led me to cracking it open again. I regretted giving in now. Josh’s wild eyes stared down into mine and he motioned for me to go to the door. I shot up instantly. I’d hoped at first that he wanted to hang out again. I’d missed our usual interactions, and felt lonelier than I’d ever been at camp during the last week. When I got to the door though, Josh looked panic-stricken and nauseous. I closed the door cautiously behind us, trying not to wake up the boys.
Josh thrust something into my hands and I realized I was now holding a shoe. “Um, thanks?” I tried. While Josh’s behavior had been concerning before, waking me up at night to give me his shoe was beyond weird.
“Don’t you recognize it?” He asked, starting to pace back and forth on the concrete steps below the door.“
I know what a shoe is,” I was getting annoyed and it showed in my tone. Josh snatched the sneaker out of my hands only to wave it in front of my eyes.
“My left shoe! The one I lost…that night.” He whispered the last words, voice shaking slightly as he glanced around like someone was listening.
When realization struck, I gaped at him. “Did you go into the lake and get it?”
“No!” He looked scandalized by the suggestion. “I’m never going back there again.” He held the shoe to his chest now like a child with a stuffed animal as he slumped down onto a step. “I woke up needing to pee, and when I put my feet on the ground it was just…there.”
“It was inside your cabin?” When I’d helped Josh limp back from the lake in only one shoe, I had written it off as lost. And who besides Kyle and Mr. Stedman even knew we’d gone to the lake in the first place? Who even knew about the missing shoe, much less scouring the whole lake to retrieve it? And who could have entered a locked cabin without a sound to return it? Certainly not loud, lumbering Kyle.
Josh just stared at the shoe in his hands, tracing the jagged tears like claw marks on its surface. I tried to take it from him and he pulled away. “I always knew it wasn’t Kyle at the lake…I just hoped…” he couldn’t bring himself to finish the thought. I was staring into the woods he had just walked through, and it gave me the uneasy feeling once again of being watched. So I dragged a barely responsive Josh into my cabin, and despite all the questions of the kids who’d woken up, made him stay until dawn broke.
Though I made him take my bunk and rolled out a sleeping bag on the floor for myself, I don’t think he slept at all, because he looked terrible in the morning as he crept back to his own cabin, shoe still clutched to his chest.
Over the next few days, Josh’s paranoia rose, and mine did in equal measure each day that I found him already awake, gazing into the woods and muttering to himself as he wandered the camp before the morning bell rang. He barely touched his meals and startled at loud noises, which was usually a kid screaming or jumping on something they shouldn’t. Worst of all, he wouldn’t talk to me about any of it. The more I pushed, the more he pushed me away. Once I mentioned to the camp nurse that I was worried about him, she called him in and gave him melatonin for sleep. Josh gave me the silent treatment for two days. I stopped trying after that, just let my worry fester quietly, as I was accustomed to treating most of my problems and secrets.
We had a tradition at Camp Forest Lake that the last week of the summer, the older kids and their councilors would spend a night actually sleeping outdoors, not in wooden cabins and bunkbeds as we were used to. Boys and girls split up on different two different campsites and we did all the classic activities like marshmallow roasts, ghost stories, and for the boys at least, bug catching. This year my cabin, Josh’s, and Kyle’s would all be participating, and I could tell Josh dreaded it as much as I did. I used to look forward to “real camping night,” as it was so creatively called, before the terror that had been instilled in me since the lake incident.
Josh faced the day with quiet resolve. We were already a mile into the short hike to the campground when I realized he was wearing the shoe that had been ominously returned to him. After he’d shown it to me, I wasn’t even sure he’d kept the pair of shoes. If it had been me, I’d have thrown them into the fire. But Josh wore the sneakers, right shoe almost new and the left shoe shredded and water-stained as he marched resolutely ahead of the group.
It was nearing dusk as we reached the clearing, so Kyle quickly started ordering the kids around into preparing tents and a fire. I ended up helping frustrated preteens try to stretch their tents without ripping them as Kyle cheated tradition by starting the fire with his lighter, even though he was supposed to let the older campers light it with flint and a steel striker.
Darkness had settled upon our camp by the time we’d finished setup. I was worn out from breaking up fights between preteens trying to stab each other with leftover tent pegs as I flopped down onto a log someone had dragged near the large fire crackling over the aluminum-wrapped concoctions we were cooking for dinner. Through the leaping flames, I could see Josh sitting across from me. I jolted as we made eye contact and I realized he’d been staring for some time. His face looked so hollow and drawn after weeks of fear, and the harsh light flickering over his features seemed to contort them into ghastly expressions though he didn’t move at all. He only broke the stare when Kyle, noticing his distraction, gave Josh a boisterous shove that almost knocked Josh face first into the fire. Though it forced him to drop the hotdog he’d been charring the skin off of, Kyle’s push had at least knocked the faraway, glazed look out of Josh for a while, and replaced it with a version of his old grin that didn’t quite reach the eyes. He joked with the kids like I hadn’t seen in weeks, and I fostered a glimmer of hope that he was returning to his usual self and leaving the bad memories behind. It was the last weekend of camp, after all, and we would soon have a full year to laugh at how scared one bad trip at a lake made us.
Ghost stories were Josh’s specialty, and he really came to life when animating tales to spook the younger kids. That year was no exception, and I was relieved to see how much he enjoyed himself.
I poked the fire to reposition a log that stuck out when Kyle stood up. “I’m going to get more firewood,” he told me, but made it loud enough for the group to hear. Kyle ambled noisily into the brush. It was an old trick the counselors liked to play on campers, disappearing into the trees during scary stories and adding sound effects to whatever the storyteller said. Already, one of the younger boys, Dylan was his name, was squeezing my hand to the point that it was going numb.
“As I was saying,” Josh continued, throwing an exaggerated glare over his shoulder in the direction Kyle had gone, “No one knows exactly what the creature looks like, because no one who’s seen it has lived.” I watched leaves rustle and fall still in Kyle’s wake. “But the victims had vicious wounds in the body parts that were found.” Josh looked animated and focused as he swiped a hand at one boys face, fingers poised like claws. The boy shrieked and leapt back. Josh stood and stepped on top of his log so he towered over the sitting crowd. The fire sent his shadow soaring back behind him, flickering like a whip. “They needed dental records to identify the bodies,” Josh added, pulling back his lips on either side to show off as many teeth as possible in a grimace that split his face.
The kids were riveted to their spots. The night was so quiet other than Josh’s booming voice echoing across the clearing and off the ancient trees. I realized I couldn’t hear insects, birds, or even wind which had previously been whipping the fire into a frenzy. It was like the world held its breath hanging on Josh’s words. Josh stretched a pause for drama’s sake, and the complete lack of sound hit me heavily. I got a horribly familiar prickle on my skin and now it was me crushing poor Dylan’s hand until he flinched away from my grip. I could just feel the weight of being watched, and I hoped it was a Kyle sitting right outside my field of vision waiting to be cued by Josh’s tale. I desperately wanted to believe that was the case.
“It’s whispered that once the creature picks it prey, it can track the scent to the ends of the earth.” Rustling sounded behind Josh and Kyle made a sniffling, grunting sound like a hunting dog. “Your only option is to pray you’re not the creatures taste. But you’ll never know your fate until you hear the creature howl…” Josh glared behind him and the rustling paused. “I said, before it eats you, you’ll hear a wretched howl!”
Only the loud snuffling sound again. It was then that Kyle, arms full of sticks, burst into the clearing from the opposite side of our camp. He and Josh stared at each other. Josh frowning, mouth open and momentum from his story fully derailed. “Kyle, what the heck? You’re supposed to howl. “
Kyle scowled at me. “We actually needed wood!” He dropped the bundle and gestured at the bonfire, which had indeed weakened and narrowed its circle of light as the night dragged on. “You were supposed to do the sounds. There’s three of us for a reason.”
But no one was listening to Kyle by then, because behind Josh the rustling started again. Josh whipped around and stumbled down from his perch. Campers looked to me and Kyle for reassurance, and I guiltily broke every gaze. I dumped the now whimpering Dylan onto an older kid who was also starting to hyperventilate as I stood. Josh, Kyle, and I herded the kids closer together.
Kyle picked up some of the larger sticks and threw one to me. “Everyone calm down and shut up. It’s probably a bear that got curious.” Kyle brandished his stick like a sword, threatening the woods. The stick in my hands already felt soggy with my own sweat as I shifted it. I glanced at Josh, whose face had turned ashen. As I watched, he seemed to resolve himself, and put on a placating smile.
“I promise, it’s going to be okay campers-“ and that’s when a massive shape lunged from the darkness at Josh’s vulnerable back when he turned to address the group. A strange winded sound left Josh, along with a jet of blood that splashed across the stunned faces of of the kids directly in front of him. Through Josh’s chest, a fistful of dripping flesh protruded, cradled in a gigantic though grotesquely humanoid hand. It had parted him like water. An impossibly strong limb upon which Josh was skewered hoisted him off the ground as easily as Josh himself had held a hotdog earlier that evening.
In the ensuing chaos of screaming, puking, and sprinting teenage boys, Josh and I locked eyes as I watched the life and light abandon him. When it pointed its other talon-tipped hand at my own chest, I acted instinctually, grabbing the last lit branch from the fire pit beside me and flinging it with all my strength at the thing that had just killed Josh. By some miracle, it screeched and reeled back. Only a few sparks singed its fur-matted body as it swung Josh’s husk like a shield to ward off the flames. The stick knocked Josh’s corpse in the legs and set his jeans of fire immediately. The monster matched my scream, which I hadn’t even registered was ripping itself free from my throat, as it retreated into the forest with impossible speed. I could only bear witness as it tried to shake Josh’s impaled, burning body off of its arm, and only succeeded in crushing his bones against tree trunks in an attempt to beat the fire out of its fresh kill.
“Everyone’s out!” Kyle barked at me, the last straggler in camp. I realized he’d herded all the boys onto the trail back to the cabins, and we were the last two remaining. The sight of our ruined fire, abandoned tents and backpacks strew everywhere, and the trail of smoke lingering in the trees where I’d seen Josh’s remains be dragged seared itself into my mind through my smoke and tear-stained eyes. That image has haunted me mercilessly since.
I don’t remember much of the aftermath. I told the lie so often I’m sure I muttered it in my sleep - to the investigators, therapists, and Josh’s poor, grieving parents. Josh’s funeral is a blur. What I do remember vividly is sitting in Mr. Stedman’s trailer of an office the day after, the day Camp Forest Lake closed forever, and telling him everything. I remember seeing him bury his head in his hands as I described what little of the monster I had seen as he groaned and whispered “Not again.” That was the only time I was able to be honest.
Officially, it was a tragic bear attack. Officially, it was our abandoned campfire that burned the forest down, despite the wildfire starting three days after the attack. To everyone in town, it was just a devastating though understandable oversight of terrified boys who had fled after seeing death for the first time. Officially, the fire is why no body was found. Impossible to sort through all the ash to find some shards of bone that might be human.
After the smoke from the mountain had dissipated, I tried my best to put it behind me, as I’m sure we all did. I’ll never know how close to the truth Kyle got. We never talked again, Josh’s funeral was hardly the place to discuss theories on his gruesome death. I’ll probably never know the full story either, as I suspect Mr. Stedman knew far more than what I witnessed. I do think he was responsible for the fire that swept over the mountain though. Hopefully it worked. Fire was the only thing that creature seemed to react to. I’d have probably done the same, boy scout training be damned.
My parents are now old, and I moved back to care for them. On a whim, I checked for Mr. Stedman’s address only to find his obituary instead. Something pulled me back to the old camp, a longing for closure I could never achieve.
Yesterday evening, I drove up the mountain road that used to fill me with excitement instead of dread as a child. The forest has regrown lush and green, although I still made out the occasional blackened trunk of the old growth trees, taller than the new ones have been able to reach. I guess whoever inherited the property after Mr. Stedman sold to a developer, because there’s a brand new lake house sitting in the space our little cabins used to occupy with a “for sale” sign.
If there’s any justice in the world, some carefree kids will soon be splashing in the clear waters of that lake on and making wonderful memories. I like to think the fire from three decades ago burned a clean slate over the bones of Josh and his killer, and that the secret of Camp Forest Lake died with Mr. Stedman last year.
But just in case the creature was as fast and as clever as it had seemed, if it managed to escape the forest before Mr. Stedman set it ablaze, I’m leaving my account here. After all, the lake is as deep as it is wide, and I know the creature could hold its breath longer than Josh or I could. And in the event that Josh’s final ghost story was more telling than he let on at the time, once the monster has your taste or even your scent, there’s no where you can go where it will not find you. I never forgot the way it pointed its claws at me, and I don’t think it could forget me either, if its still alive.