“Yup,” replied her African-American friend, “and a full supply of fresh batteries.” She rummaged through the large green, canvas pack on the seat between them. “I brought some ‘NSync, some Savage Garden, and the new one from Brandy. You?”

“I’ve got some Shania, some BNL and, of course, Will Smith.”

Clare Harper and Anita Hanson paused, gave each other a knowing look and then broke into song, complete with hand gestures into the air. “Nah nah nah nah, getting’ jiggy with it…nah nah nah nah…” Then the two girls broke into a fit of laughter as they realized how silly they were being.

Hardly anyone else on the white activities bus noticed.

Most of the seats were filled with kids, boys and girls ranging in age from seven to twelve years old, many who had been none-stop chattering the entire bus ride out from Victoria. Scattered throughout were other older teens like Clare and Anita and a few folks in their early twenties, all of whom would be responsible for the kids for the next two weeks.

The bus driver, old Mac Kings, had been driving buses like this for years. First he did it when he worked for the school system and, now that he was retired, for special groups such as this one. In all that time, he managed to perfect the art of tuning out all of the excess noise so he could concentrate on the road. He turned the large steering wheel, taking the bus off of the main highway and onto a dirt and gravel road that lead into the woods.

Some of the children began to cheer when they saw the large wooden sign painted white with green lettering that welcomed them to Camp Piney Knoll.

But not everyone was as excited to see the arrival of the summer campers.

From a hidden spot in the woods, a shadowy figure took the binoculars down from his eyes and cursed. Damn! This complicates things! he thought. The figure disappeared into the brush and trees.

***

It didn’t take the campers or the counselors too long to get settled in. Soon, the various groupings were going about the schedule they would be following for the next few weeks. Clare and Anita were leading their group of girls from the dining hall when a pair of children cut across their path.

“Sally! Give it back!” shouted a blonde haired boy, about eleven in age.

“No, Charlie! Nooooo!” screamed a smaller blonde haired girl, just barely seven. In her hands was a cardboard box that she was barely able to carry.

“Whoa!” Anita said as she reached out and caught the boy by the arm before he could grab his sister. “What’s going on here?”

“Make her give it back!” Charlie cried. “She snuck into my cabin and took the box!”

Clare caught Sally, putting her hands on the box before the young girl could fall with it. “What’s so important in here to cause such ruckus?” she asked.

“I got stuff in there too!” Sally protested. “Mom packed it for both of us!”

“Mom said we had to wait until halfway through camp,” Charlie pointed out.

“But I couldn’t wait!” Sally said.

Clare glanced into the box and smiled. She turned to Anita. “Care package from Mom,” she said. “Remember those?”

Anita nodded. “Oh yeah. My mom used to bake fresh cookies for me,” she said.

“Those totally rocked,” Clare said, recalling the treats that her best friend would always share with her.

“Can I have the box back, ma’am?” Charlie asked.

“No, I want to keep it!” Sally said as she cut between her brother and the teenagers.

“Tell you what,” Clare said, holding the box up high out of both their reaches. “Why don’t I put this in the camp director’s office until the weekend? That way you too won’t be fighting over it any more. Okay?”

“Aaaawww,” both kids cried.

Anita waved her hands at the two little ones. “You two need to get back to your groups,” she said.

“Yes, ma’am,” Charlie said as he took off immediately.

Sally paused and looked a bit confused.

“Sally, what’s wrong?” Clare asked as she bent down a bit.

The little girl fidgeted. “Not sure where…” she muttered softly.

Clare looked up at Anita. “Anita, can you take our ‘horned owls’ down so they can still fit in their canoe activity? I’ll be along in a minute.”

The African-American teen nodded. “Sure thing, Clare.” She turned to the group of girls some of whom were sitting and talking among themselves while the counselors were sorting this out. “Okay, ladies, social hour is over. Let’s go to the docks. Double time.” She started to move off in a fast paced walk and the group followed in behind her.

Clare put her hand out. “Come on, Sally,” she said. “You can walk with me to the director’s office and then I’ll get you to your group.”

The little girl nodded, took Clare’s hand and they began to walk.

Holding the open box to her chest with her left hand and arm to keep it steady, Clare asked, “so, what’s so cool in the box that you couldn’t wait?”

“Mom said she’d pack some candy for us,” Sally explained. “But I didn’t see it before Charlie came back and found me. I got distracted by his comic books.”

“Comic books? What kind of comic books?”

“Somebody named ‘Windjammer’,” Sally said. “He flies on a board.”

“Really?” Clare said. She pulled back one of the top folds of the box and saw the colorful book sitting on top. Sure enough, there was a guy in a blue and white costume soaring about the sky on a shiny board. Hmmm, when did comic guys get this cute? All we had growing up were Archie and Jughead. This Windjammer guy looks like he’d be a lot of fun to fly around with.

Clare felt a tug on her sleeve, bringing her out of her brief daydream.

“Miss Clare?”

“Yes, Sally?”

“How long ‘til I can be a horn owl?”

Clare smiled. “They’re horned owls,” she said. “And you have to wait until you’re ten. Girls under ten are rabbits. Boys under ten are otters. And boys like your brother…he’s eleven, right?” She saw the little girl nod. “Boys like your brother are raccoons.”

Sally frowned. “Awww. That stinks.”

Clare smiled. “No, it doesn’t stink. This is Camp P.K., not Camp P.U.” She released Sally’s hand to pinch her nose with her fingers and laughed.

Sally tried not to laugh but couldn’t help herself. The child let out a cute little giggle.

Clare was pleased that the old joke still worked. “No, seriously, Camp Piney Knoll is pretty cool. I used to come here when I was a kid – started right about your age.”

“Really?” Sally asked, her eyes growing wide.

“Yup,” Clare replied. “Who knows? Maybe someday you’ll be a counselor here just like I am.”

“Wow! Could I really?”

“Sure, but you’ve got to learn a lot about the camp and follow all the rules.”

Sally frowned again. “It’s summer. What do we have to learn?”

“Well, for starters, did you know the area that we’re standing used to be the home to the Creek Indians?”

Sally shook her head no.

“It’s true,” Clare said. “Way back in the early 1800’s, the Creek Indian tribes used to live in this part of Georgia. And to help celebrate that history, Camp Piney Knoll teaches the kids a bit about those tribes. Did you know the Creek word for camp is ‘este-hvpo’?”

Sally shook her head no again.

“And all of our groups for the kids have Creek words for them as well. The word for raccoon is ‘wotko’, and otter is ‘osvnv’. The word for my girls, the horned owl, is ‘estekene’.”

“What’s the word for rabbit?” Sally asked excitedly.

“Cufe,” Clare said.

“Cufe,” Sally repeated. “Is that right?”

Clare smiled. “Perfect. See, you’ll know all about this stuff in no time.”

The two arrived at a building with faded green paint and a covered porch. A man in his late thirties with brown hair was just coming out the door. “Mr. Philips,” Clare called out. “Can you put this in your office until the weekend?”

The camp director nodded and took the box. “Sure thing, Clare,” he said. “What is it?”

“It’s a care package for one of our little campers here and her brother.”

“A care package, eh?” Mr. Philips said. “Don’t worry. I’ll give it extra special care.”

“Great,” Clare said. She turned to Sally and said, “now, my little rabbit, let’s get you back to your group.”

“Cufe!” Sally corrected her.

Clare smiled.

***

Down at the lake, the older girls canoed past the older boys swimming in the water; the later attempted to splash the former as they cruised on by.

Through a pair of binoculars, a brown haired man in a brown suit watched the innocent interplay and frowned. He slipped back unnoticed into the bushes at the far side of the lake and turned to a black haired man dressed in dark pants, a T-shirt and a dark jacket.

The second man noted the expression on the face of the one with the binoculars. “See, I knew you’d be upset about this,” he said. “That’s why I called you to begin with.”

“You say they arrived yesterday?” the man in the suit asked.

“Yeah, and they’ll be here for almost two weeks,” the other replied. “I did some asking around in that town a couple of miles down the way and got confirmation of it. That’ll put a severe crimp in the schedule. We might have to push back…”

“There’s no time to push back!” the man in the suit burst. “We hadn’t recovered the stuff sooner because the heat was still on. But now I’m getting pressure from another end, and I need to have a lot of money in my hands by the end of the week!”

The second man pulled out a cigarette pack from his coat, put one of the smokes to his lips and lit it. “End of the week?” he said between puffs. “That’ll be a challenge. I mean, I think I’ve got the area narrowed down pretty good, but I can’t keep searching in broad daylight. Not with all those kids running around.”

“Then get whatever you need for looking at night!”

“At night? Sure, but I’ll need more than extra equipment. I’ll likely need an extra set of hands too. You want I should bring someone else in?”

“No!” the man in the suit said firmly. “We don’t have time for that! I’ll make it a point to be up here to help you. I don’t have time for any more complications.”

The black haired man just nodded. He thought to himself that his cut better be a good one for all of the hassle he was going through.

***

Three nights later around 9pm, Clare was walking between the wooden camp buildings. As she rounded the corner, she literally ran right into two of the older boys. “Whoa!” she exclaimed. “What’s going on?”

“Oh, sorry!” one of them said. In the dark she could still make out his face; it was Charlie, Sally’s older brother.

“Tell her what we saw!” the other boy who was African-American said.

“Okay, Franklin, okay,” Charlie said, trying to calm his friend.

Clare noticed both boys were a bit excited and breathing heavy, as if they’d been running for a good bit before they ran into her. “What’s going on, guys?” she asked again.

“We saw something,” Charlie said.

“Down by the lake,” Franklin added.

“We’re not sure what it was.”

“We saw a glowing light and heard some weird sounds.”

“Maybe it’s some ghosts!”

“Or aliens!”

“Hold it,” Clare said, putting up her hand. “I’m sure it was nothing of the kind. But, why were you two down by the lake anyway? Aren’t you supposed to be in the dining cabin for movie night with the rest of the older kids?”

“Well, yeah,” Charlie admitted.

“So, what got you off track?” Clare asked

Charlie looked down at the ground, embarrassed that the boys had gotten busted. “We went to Franklin’s bunk to get some of his baseball cards, and then we heard some frogs.”

“So you guys went on a frog hunt,” Clare said.

“Yes, ma’am,” both boys said in unison.

“Tell you what,” Clare said. “If you do a favor for me, I won’t say anything about your dilly-dallying to your counselors. Deal?”

“What kind of favor?” Franklin asked.

“Here,” Clare said as she handed the black, VHS video tape in her hand to the boys. “Mr. Phillips asked me to get this from his office. He forgot it for tonight’s movie. You two run along to the dining cabin and give this to him for me, and I’ll keep your secret.”

Charlie squinted at the tape to make out the title, written in pen and fading slightly, on the label. “Meatballs – cool!”

“Why can’t you bring him the tape?” Franklin asked.

Clare leaned closer. “I need to use the little girl’s room,” she whispered with a smile. “I think I had too many beanie-weenies tonight, if you know what I mean.”

“Too much information,” Charlie said. “Come on, Franklin, let’s go.” The two boys ran off on their errand.

Clare waited for a moment and then slipped between the buildings to head back towards her cabin. I hated to lie to them, she thought, but I couldn’t likely tell them I was going to check out their story.

She went inside the currently empty cabin and dug through her bag to find a small metal box with a combination lock. Quickly, she dialed up the correct number, opened the lid and pulled out a red mask and a gray spandex top with red trim and built-in gloves. Both were folded down as small as possible for easy concealment. Just in case. She left behind the bottom of her costume, feeling that there wasn’t time for that, and locked it back into the box.

Then, Clare slipped back outside of the cabin and down the shadowy path through the woods towards the lake. Once she was a good distance away from the camp, she unfolded the top and pulled it on over her camp T-shirt. She then put on the red mask. Half a costume is better than none at all, she thought as she took to the air thanks to her magnetic abilities. She rose up through the tall trees, careful to avoid any of the branches. As soon as she cleared the top of the tree-line, she began to fly across the woods and towards the open area where the lake was nestled.

Weird lights and sounds…that’s what the boys said. She glanced out through the eye-slits of her Lodestone mask and looked across the surface of the lake. The water was calm with only the occasional ripple as the evening wind blew across it. With so many clouds in the sky, the moon was unable to provide her much extra light.

Then, on the far side of the lake, she saw something – a faint glow of light. Hmmm, she wondered to herself. Perking her ears, she listened. Besides the sounds of crickets near the shore and the occasional deep bellow from a bull frog, she did hear a slight hum. A motor perhaps?The sound and the light, which the boys were actually right about, warranted an investigation.

Lodestone cautiously flew around the lake, hugging close to the shore line to avoid being seen. All the while, she was drawn to the single light source in the darkness, like a moth to a flame. But, in her case, she was a very cautious moth for she knew the source of the light was not something typical. Someone or something was out on the lake in the dark shroud of the night. Whoever or whatever it was had no intention of being discovered. That just made the young woman even more curious about it.

As Lodestone got closer, she could see something floating atop the water. The light was a single bulb, mounted on a post that was erected on a small boat. Still hovering a good distance away, she extended her hands and concentrated. She could sense the metal that made up the craft – much of the boat’s engine, the metal banding along the top edges, the seats and even some additional equipment on the open deck.

It was from some the later items that the odd sound was coming.

That almost sounds like…a diving pump, she thought.

From her position high and behind the craft, she could see a figure moving about the deck. He passed under the light, which allowed her to see it was a brown haired man in dark clothing. He bent down and checked the noisy equipment. The man then moved over to one side of the boat.

As he did so, Lodestone traced the path of an air hose that went from the equipment over the side of the boat. Someone’s looking for something, she thought, but what?

She didn’t have to wait long for an answer.

The man on the boat noted a tug on a line and went back to the equipment. There he started another small device near the pump. The tension line began to slowly feed back in from the water and across the boat. Satisfied with the start up of the winch the man returned to the one side of the boat.

There was activity in the water in the form of some movement and then some bubbles. Something small and dark but heavy broke the surface of the water just about the time another person also emerged from beneath the dark depths. The man in the boat quickly ran back and switched off the winch, then hurried back to the boat’s edge. “You got it!” he said in a rather excited tone.

The figure in the water removed the breathing tube from his mouth with one hand and pulled up the goggles that were covering his eyes. “Yeah, I got it,” he said as he treaded water.

“Quick, let’s get it aboard before it can sink again,” the man in the boat said as he grabbed the line about the object and began to pull.

“It’s not going anywhere,” the man in the water said as he moved underneath the object, attempting to lift it as best he could. “I made sure of that.” The line was actually tied around all of the sides of the square object, forming a neatly wrapped package. “Believe me; I’m tired of hanging out at the bottom of this muddy old lake.”

“Just get it up here!” the man in the boat ordered.

The man in the water put one hand on the edge of the boat to support himself and then put his other hand under the object. “Okay, pull!” he said as he pushed up.

The man in the boat pulled on the line. The object bumped against the side of the boat as it went up.  “Get it over the edge!” the man in the boat said as he strained to pull the line back.

“Okay! Okay!” The man in the water put his right shoulder under the object, keeping it balanced between his shoulders and neck. He grabbed the edge of the boat with his other hand too and tried to pull himself out of the water as well.

The object slammed into his head before teetering over the edge of the rail. It landed firmly on the deck. “We got it!” the man in the boat exclaimed.

“We got it?” the man on the outer edge of the boat muttered sarcastically. His wetsuit made the going a bit easier as he pulled himself up the rest of the way and onto the deck.

The man who had been on the boat the entire was already pulling the line aside. “Hopefully nothing is damaged,” the diver said as he started to pull off the wetsuit.

“Nothing should be,” the first man said as he worked the lock that kept the metal box shut. “I packed that box myself after the getaway from Miami. The contents should be nice and dry.” The lock popped. He tossed it aside and opened the metal lid to reveal a sealed plastic container inside. Eagerly, the man tore into the later container, ripping open its lid. A smile crossed his face, the first time in days, as he gazed upon the sparkling contents.

The black haired man in the wetsuit paused to look down. He let forth a whistle as he eyed the box full of diamonds and other rare gemstones. “That’s some haul,” he said.

“I bet it is,” a female voice said from behind them.

Both men whirled around to see a blonde haired young woman in a red mask standing near the back of the boat.

“And something tells me that, given all this covert activity, those little treasures belong to someone else,” Lodestone said confidently. “Someone in Miami, for instance.”

“What the…?” the diver exclaimed. “Who’s she?”

“We’ll worry about that later,” the brown haired man said as he pulled a gun out of his coat pocket, “after she’s dead!”

Lodestone saw what the man had done and concentrated.

He squeezed the trigger, firing a shot at the heroine. The bullet whizzed off course and plopped into the water. Before the man could fire again, his gun jerked from his hand, as if by some unseen force, and flew over the side of the boat. It too plopped into the water and sank quickly.

Lodestone crossed her arms in front of her and shook her head disappointingly. “I guess you guys don’t know who I am,” she said. “You’ll have to catch up on your reading while you’re in jail though.”

“We ain’t going anywhere,” the diver said as he eyed a section of chain on the corner of the deck.

Lodestone held her ground, showing no signs of fear.

“Let her have it!” the other man said as he reached for the box of jewels. As his fingers were inches from it, the box slid away from him across the deck and towards the back of the boat where the blonde girl stood. “Hey! What gives?”

“Uh uh uh,” Lodestone said, shaking her head. “That’s evidence. I can’t have you tampering with that.”

“Get her!” the man yelled.

The diver with the chain smiled. “With pleasure!” He rushed forward while still swinging the chain above his head. The metal whizzed out a few feet in front of him.

Lodestone just stared, monitoring his motion.

Then, the chain came to a complete and abrupt stop mid-swing. The tip of the chain was only a few feet from her face, but Lodestone did not flinch. “Chain,” she said coolly. “Just the thing.”

The chain suddenly whipped around and shot back across the deck at a great speed. The diver, still holding the end, was jerked backwards too by this unexpected action. The black haired man was slammed back into his partner, knocking them both the ground. Then, as if moving by unseen hands, the chain wrapped itself tightly around the duo, binding their arms to their sides.

Lodestone crossed the deck of the boat, the strong box full of jewels in tow behind her as it was pulled by her magnetic telekinesis. “I think it’s time we visited the local sheriff, don’t you?” she said with a smile.

***

The deputy who burst into the small town’s jail house was in a clear panic. “Burt, Burt! You’ve got to come out and see this!”

The sheriff, who was sitting at his desk with his feet up, raised his eyebrow. “What’s gotten into you, Danny?” the white haired sheriff replied.

The deputy grabbed the man’s arm and tugged him. “Just come outside, quick!”

The two men moved for the door and stepped out onto the street. Once there, they realized that their quiet evening was going to remain anything but. Wrapped up in a long length of chain were two men, one partially dressed still in a wet suit. Next to them was an open metal box containing diamonds and other gemstones.

Standing next to them was a blonde haired young woman in a red mask. “Evening, Sheriff,” she said. “I believe you’ll find that these men are wanted in connection to some jewelry heist in Miami.”

“Is that…?” the sheriff started to say to his partner.

“Yeah, that’s her all right,” the deputy replied. “That’s Lodestone. I’ve seen her picture in papers before.”

The sheriff turned to the girl. “You are Lodestone, right?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And what, pray tell, is a young woman like yourself doing running around these parts at night – especially with such company?”

“Just working off of a tip,” Lodestone replied. “You’ll find a boat up the ways on the lake near Camp Piney Knoll. It appears these two had hidden the stolen goods in the lake and were recovering them when I ran across them.”

“I see,” the sheriff said. “I suppose you’ll need to give me a statement. If these men are indeed who you claim they are, I’ll need to file a full arrest report.”

“I’d love to stay and do that,” Lodestone said, “but I have somewhere else I need to be.

***

Clare slipped into the door of the darkened dining cabin just as the final credits were beginning to roll. She barely had enough time to stop back at her cabin and lock up her mask and costume top again.

Anita, who was sitting up the way a bit with their group of girls, caught Clare’s eye.

Clare pointed her finger down a couple times and mouthed back “right here”.

Anita shrugged her shoulders.

When the credits ended, Mr. Phillips turned on the lights. A lot of the kids rubbed their eyes to adjust them to the change in brightness. “Okay, now,” the camp director said. “Counselors, get your groups back to their cabins. Lights out is in a half hour, everyone.” He paused and then added something more with a smile. “Oh, and no one get any funny ideas about moving my bed, you hear?”

The older kids laughed.

Clare made her way through the crowd to join Anita and their group. “Okay, ladies, you heard Mr. Phillips,” she said. “Let’s move out.” She made a shooing motion with her hands, directing their group of ten girls toward the door.

Anita came up on her left and said softly, “Seriously, you were here the entire time?”

“I had to run back to the cabin for something first,” Clare said. “But I got back after the film started, so I just hung out in back so not to disturb everyone.”

Anita just eyed her friend. “Okay…”

“Seriously!” Clare said. “You know I wouldn’t miss my favorite part of the film – the dance. Makin’ it – ooo ooo ooo, I’m makin’ it.” That last bit she did in a sing-song kind of voice, complete with disco arm motions. “Maybe Mr. Phillips will let us have one of those here this week? I could show off those funky moves my parents used to do.”

Anita Hanson just smiled. “You know, Clare, you’re weird.”

Clare laughed. “Yeah, but you’re my best friend, so what’s that say about you?”

Anita laughed too. “You’re right, you’re right.” The two headed out of the cabin and escorted their girls back to the cabin.

***

A few days later, the telephone rang just as a blonde woman in her forties was entering the front door. “Hold on, hold on,” Beverly Harper called as she left the door open and rushed to the phone. She plucked up the receiver on the fourth ring. “Hello?”

“Yes, hi,” a young man’s voice on the other end of the line said. “Can I speak to Clare please?”

“No,” Beverly said. “I’m sorry she’s not home right now.”

“Oh,” the voice said. “Do you know when she’ll be back?”

Beverly paused as she thought the voice was familiar, but she wasn’t completely sure. “Who is this?” the mother asked.

“Uh, this is Tom. I go to school with Clare. I’ve called before.”

“Oh, right,” Beverly said now that her memory had been jogged. “You called a few weeks back.”

“Yes, ma’am. You said then that Clare was on vacation in California with her friends.”

“Yes, yes I did,” Beverly said. “I’m sorry to say but she’s again out of town for another week or so. She and a friend of hers are camp counselors.”

“Oh,” the voice on the other end said a bit dejected. “Okay. I guess I’ll see her in school then in a few weeks. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Beverly said. “Good-bye.” The phone on the other end hung up as she was in the middle of the last words. She just shrugged her shoulders. Teenaged boys.

Far across Victoria, in a room above a garage full of numerous pieces of electronic equipment and such, a twelve-year old red-haired boy removed a small device from his phone’s handset. “Little voice modulator, I love you,” Edward Hackett said as he placed the item in the desk drawer.

He swiveled around in his chair to face a number of printed newspaper articles pinned up on his bulletin board. He adjusted his thick glasses as he looked over the more recent headlines.