Phil and the Ghost of Camp Ch-Yo-Ca (18 page)

FORTY YEARS AGO,
you never would have fallen asleep. You wouldn’t have done so twenty years ago, either. But somehow you end up fast asleep, and the only thing that wakes you up is the smell of smoke.

Smoke coming from a fire. A raging fire that’s burning twenty yards from you.

The cabin. John Luke!

It’s burning intensely, and you realize the cabin is already pretty far gone. You rush toward the building and know you shouldn’t go in, but you have to. You don’t see John Luke, and he could be unconscious inside for all you know. You call his name a couple times but don’t hear any reply.

So you head in.

Thinking about Zodie Sims and Parker.

Inside, you find John Luke trying to douse the flames with
a bucket of water. You toss the bucket aside and grab his arm, forcing him to follow you. Both of you tear through the door you entered, flames licking you all over. You put a hand on John Luke’s head as you exit the burning cabin.

Soon you’re out, coughing and choking and kneeling on the ground.

“What happened?” John Luke gasps between coughs.

“I don’t know. But whoever did this isn’t trying to have fun. They almost killed you back there.”

“I was about to leave when you came in. At first I thought I could put it out.”

“Yeah, I know,” you sigh. “But sometimes you just gotta tuck your tail and tear out of there.”

You stay there on the grass for a while, coughing and choking and thanking God you’re both okay as John Luke calls 911.

When the cops and the fire department finally arrive, an ambulance tries to take you to the hospital, but you refuse to get into it. You insist that John Luke go in for a checkup, though. You call his mother, Korie, who says she’ll meet him there. While a medic looks you over, a cop comes by to update you: they found an empty can of gasoline in the woods. You proceed to tell him everything you know
 
—what brought you and John Luke here, the strange things you experienced, everything.

Eventually you end up leaving when a worried Willie arrives to give you a ride.

It’s only some time later
 
—weeks, actually
 
—when you remember Otis, the hitchhiker you picked up. You call the police and let them know. They thank you and take the info. But that’s all.

That’s the end of it. No more ghost sightings, no more weird noises in the woods. Otis must have moved on.

For now.

THE END

Start over.

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

“WE SHOULD PROBABLY KEEP GOING,”
you tell John Luke.

And yes, you do have places you need to be, but you’re more concerned about picking up a crazy person with John Luke in the car. You know God is in control, but God also wants you to pay attention to your
good sense
. And your sense tells you picking up a stranger might not be the safest idea.

So you drive on.

You arrive at the camp and climb out of the Jeep. It’s strange to see the place deserted. The cabin doors are closed. The picnic tables are empty. You hear the soothing sound of crickets.

“John Luke, are we the only ones here?”

“I think so.”

The fire pit looks like it was just used a couple days ago.

“Which cabin should we put our stuff in?”

“Let’s stay in the director’s cabin,” John Luke says. “It’s a little nicer.”

After unloading your sleeping bags and other belongings, you walk around the camp with John Luke.

“It’s been a while since I was here,” you tell him.

“You should come back sometime. The kids love it. Lots of great discussions around here.”

You check out the rest of the cabins but don’t find a soul. The gymnasium is silent and empty too.

Later that night, you’re watching the fire you made an hour earlier die down. You’ve been talking to John Luke about lots of good things: where he wants to go to college, what he plans to study, why girls are so impossible to understand yet why they’re amazing anyway. It’s nice to have some one-on-one time with him.

“The camp’s a lot different when it’s quiet like this, right?” You poke the embers with a stick.

“Yeah.”

You look up at the sky through an opening in the trees. The sight never gets old.

“See those stars, John Luke? Think about them. Think about who made them. Every single one of them
 
—God simply waved his hands and the universe sat up. Kinda cool to think about, isn’t it?”

“Yes, sir.”

You remember the stranger you saw on the side of the road, waving his hand to try to get a lift. Where is he now?

Maybe we should’ve given the guy a ride.

You decide to put out the remaining embers and head toward the cabin for the night.

So far it’s been a quiet and enjoyable evening.

You wonder why you had to come here in the first place.

You’re pretty certain you’ll sleep like a log and wake up tomorrow morning with nothing noteworthy to talk about. Unless you have some cool dreams.

Do you watch a little TV before bed? (The director’s cabin has its perks.)
Go here
.

Do you stop and listen to the silence for a moment before turning in?
Go here
.

Do you fall into a restful sleep?
Go here
.

Do you worry about the hitchhiker in your dreams?
Go here
.

HUNTING REQUIRES PATIENCE.
It requires waiting and watching. And honestly, if you were ever to be called something besides Duck Commander, it would be Patience Commander. You don’t mind sitting still and just . . . being.

You’ve had a lot of practice at this. Being and waiting.

So that’s what you do. And you have to do it for quite some time. An hour passes. At least you reckon it’s an hour. Then another.

But you don’t fall asleep. You watch the cabin, knowing someone’s going to reveal himself. Knowing the mattresses didn’t just happen to rearrange themselves. Knowing the toothpaste didn’t put itself on the mirrors in the form of a disturbing message.

No, someone’s doing this to mess with you.

And not a moment too soon, you spot the likely culprit.

Someone steps out of the woods and makes his way toward the cabin. The person is tall and wearing dark clothing and a stocking cap. He blends into the night pretty well, but you can still make out what he’s carrying. It’s some kind of can.

You don’t wait any longer. It’s the moment to act.

You stand and quickly approach the stranger from behind. As much as possible, you remain quiet and try not to be seen or heard.

Whoever it is, he’s stopping near the front doorway and doing something with the can.

It’s a gasoline can.

You don’t have any more time for stealth. Time to deal with this.

You’re running as fast as you can when you reach the creep and tackle him. He lands on his chest, and you can tell he gets the air knocked out of him. You dig a knee into his back and jerk an arm up.

Yeah, you might be over sixty, but you’re not letting
anybody
mess with your family.

You can smell the can, and it turns out you were right. Gasoline.

The man is screaming now, and you see lights pop on inside the cabin. The door opens.

“John Luke, call the cops!” you shout. “Do it and stay inside.”

The man struggles, but you stay on top of him and keep his
arm pinned back. He might be tall, but he’s not particularly strong. You notice he has long hair and a beard. He also stinks. This is all strangely familiar.

Then you realize. It’s the man you picked up earlier
 
—the hitchhiker.

“What are you trying to do, huh?” you demand.

The man doesn’t answer but keeps squirming.

John Luke opens the door again. “I called the cops.”

“I’ve got this guy. Go take your rifle out of the Jeep. We need to keep an eye on this fella.”

The cops arrive soon enough and put your prisoner in handcuffs. So far he’s still said nothing to you. You’ve asked him to tell you about his plan, but not a word. And that’s fine by you.

“Papaw Phil?” John Luke says after the police have taken the hitchhiker away. “I know my parents are going to freak out about this, but thanks.”

“For what?”

“For saving my life.”

You laugh. “Well, you’re the one who held the gun. Maybe you ended up saving mine.”

When the excitement is over, everybody learns the truth.

The hitchhiker you picked up wasn’t any ordinary stranger. And he wasn’t called Otis, either.

His name was Parker. Parker Adams.

Yes, he was that Parker.

The one who supposedly died in the awful fire at Camp Ch-Yo-Ca.

Turns out Parker lived. He ended up running away from the camp and from Louisiana and, as it happens, from all known sanity.

The cops tell you that Parker Adams had a strange fixation on the camp. Maybe because he ran off after setting fire to a cabin that killed a man years ago . . . a man named Zodie Sims.

Maybe that’s also why he started harassing some of the kids around the camp, pretending to be a ghost.

A week later, you find yourself discussing the situation with John Luke. You’re both sitting in your living room, John Luke on the couch across from you.

“Wow
 
—I didn’t even think the Zodie Sims thing really happened,” he says. “I thought it was a camp legend. Just a ghost story.”

“The only ghost I want to focus on is the holy one,” you tell him.

But he has another question. “You think the ghost of Zodie Sims could have been haunting the camp?”

You pause for a moment, thinking. “I don’t know about that. But I do know, as you’ve heard me say, that we eventually all get placed six feet deep into the ground. We all end up with a body that’s as empty as a haunted house. We’re all faced with the big questions of life and death.”

You turn down the volume on the television.

“We’re fortunate to know the truth. Zodie Sims
 
—based on his actions, his sacrifice, it seems like he knew the truth too. That Jesus is the only way. But those who don’t know get caught up in the mysteries and the bogeyman and the monsters behind the trees. They want to make these things up to help explain the unease they have about dying and where they’re spending eternity. But the hope of eternal life with Jesus is a
fact
.”

John Luke nods in agreement.

You give him a big grin. “But I do think that somewhere out there a scary-lookin’ creature could be watching us. Waiting in the darkness. Preparing to jump out of the trees. But the joke’s gonna be on us because he’s gonna be as friendly as a little kitten.”

THE END

Start over.

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