Psychic Summer Camp Chapter 3

Chapter 3 (Revised)

Upon learning the nature of the camp, Lincoln had almost changed his mind about going. It was Kyle's reminder that psychics were going to feature heavily in his summer no matter what he decided to do that made him concede to the camp. At least at camp he wouldn't have to deal with the smell of his aunts house.

He had phoned his parents to inform them of his decision and told them that because the camp was so far away they would have to leave early in the morning and that he would be staying over night. They really weren't leaving so early that spending the night was necessary, but Lincoln was angry and didn't want to see his parents at the moment. His dad had said that was a good idea, that way they didn't have to worry about getting him up and going in the morning. “Hey, anything I can do to help.” Lincoln had said sardonically.

Lincoln and Kyle polished off both pizzas before Lincoln went home to pack a bag. When he got there his mother had already packed one for him. She handed it to him tearfully, hugging and kissing him and apologizing profusely for the change of plans. She also handed him a money clip with more money in it than Lincoln had ever held at one time before, telling him it was to last him all summer. He wasn't sure what he would be able to spend money on at camp, but he took it anyway and put it in his pocket. After wrestling his way out of his mother's grip, assuring her that he would be able to survive the summer at camp and that he wouldn't start up with the drugs and the gangs, he hefted his bag on to his shoulder and started back to Kyle's house.

That night they sat in Kyle's bedroom playing a new video game Kyle's parents had bought him for completing grade nine. Lincoln had never played it before, but he was beating Kyle anyway. Normally Kyle would have complained about it but at that moment he seemed not to care. He was just happy that Lincoln had not only forgiven him but decided to come to camp. When Lincoln had trounced him for the last time he set down his controller and leaned back on the futon. “So, why did you pick a psychic camp? You can't possibly believe in that stuff.”

The smile fell from Kyle's face and he became suddenly timid. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat and fiddled with the strap on his controller. “I dunno.” He said quietly. “Maybe I do, a little.”

Lincoln rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Unbelievable.” He locked eyes with Kyle. “Seriously?”

Kyle shrugged and pulled away. “I guess. I dunno. It could be real. I mean, sometimes weird things happen... to me.”

“To you?” Lincoln repeated. He had expected Kyle to say that he had seen a psychic on TV that had seemed legit or even that he had met someone who made a prediction that had come true. Not that he thought he might be psychic himself. “What happens that makes you think it might be real?”

Kyle shrugged again. “Sometimes I just... know things.”

“I know things too.” Lincoln said. “Like I know psychics are fake. Trust me. Aunt Fred is the most fake of them all. If anyone can say that psychics are not real, it's me.”

This seemed to agitate Kyle out of his timidity. “Why? Because you know a fake one? If I began to draw tattoos on people's arms in pen and called myself a tattoo artist, would you assume there was no such thing as a real tattoo artist?”

“That's different.” Lincoln retorted. “Everyone knows that tattoo artists are real. It doesn't take any special ability to draw tattoos.”

“Oh yeah? Then why don't you do it?”

Lincoln scowled. “Because I don't know how. But if I wanted to do it, I could work at it. No matter how hard I work at it, I could never become a psychic. If all it took was training then everyone would be psychic.”

“Not everyone is a rock star.” Kyle said.

“What?” Asked Lincoln, wondering what rock stars had to do with anything.

“Well, all it takes to become a rock star is training, right?”

“No. It takes talent too. But that's different.”

“How is it different?” Kyle asked. “If not everyone can be a rock star through training, why do you think it's possible that everyone can be a psychic?”

“It's not the same thing.” Lincoln said shortly. It was unbelievable that he was having this argument. Any sane person should be able to see that psychics are at best skilled liars and at worst charlatans.

“I think it's just the same thing.” Kyle said, getting angrier. 

“You think that psychics are real because sometimes you think something is going to happen and then it does? Don't you think that might just be a coincidence?”

“Well, I knew that you were going to come to summer camp?” Kyle said with finality, as though that settled it.

“But you wanted that to happen!” Said Lincoln. “You hoped I would come, You didn't know I would. It's just a crazy coincidence that I'm here right now.”

“Whatever.” Kyle said, standing up. “I'm going to bed. You can sleep on the futon or go downstairs to the couch in the living room.”

“Fine.” Lincoln said. “G'night.”

“Good night.” Kyle said. He climbed into his bed and rolled to face the wall before pulling the covers tightly around his shoulders. He didn't say another word the rest of the night.



When Lincoln awoke the next morning it was the the gentle warmth of morning sunshine and the sound of birds singing just outside the window. The clear day did wonders for his mood and for his outlook on summer. He actually felt a bit bad about getting into it with Kyle the previous night. He shouldn't be trying to ruin camp for him, even if it was ridiculous. He threw his pillow over to Kyle's bed, expecting it to wake him up so he could apologize, but the pillow landed on an empty mattress. Kyle was already up and out of the room. Lincoln winced, sure that Kyle was still angry.

After a quick stop at the bathroom he went downstairs to the kitchen where there was an empty bowl, a box of cereal and some milk. He assumed that it was left there for him and poured himself a bowl. A moment later Kyle came into the kitchen dragging an over stuffed hockey bag that looked like it weighed a ton. It was making strange clanking noises that clothes don't usually make too.

“You think you've packed enough?” Lincoln asked.

To Lincoln's relief, Kyle laughed. “It's my first summer away. Mom's worried that they won't feed me enough. Half of this bag is food.” He dragged it across the kitchen, stopping at the door. “You think you could help me get it in the van? I'm not sure I'll be able to lift it.”

Lincoln chuckled. “Yeah. Just let me finish my cereal.”

Five minutes later they were both hefting the bag in to the back of the van amid grunts and groans. “What do you eat? Rocks and steel bars?” Asked Lincoln.

“It's just a lot of canned food.” Said Kyle.

Lincoln threw his bag in the van on top of Kyles. His was a small duffel bag, less than half as big as Kyle's. He wondered if he had packed enough. If he hadn't, it was too late now. They closed the hatch and as they did Kyle's mom came out of the house. Her mascara was running a bit down her cheeks. “You boys ready?” She sniffed.

“Ready.” They both said and Kyle's mom sniffed, pulling out a tissue and dabbing her eyes.

“I suppose your parents are much better at this than I am, Lincoln?” She said.

“Well, mom still likes to bawl. I think she would feel bad all summer if she said goodbye with dry eyes.”

“Oh, well, that's good. I don't feel so bad then.” She rummaged through her purse and pulled out some keys. “Well boys, we have a long drive ahead of us. Let's get started.”

Long drive had been an understatement. The drive up to the campground was a six hour drive, but it felt so much longer because Kyle wouldn't stop talking about how great it was going to be to meet other people like him. Lincoln had spent the first two hours of the trip trying to tell him that if they learned anything at all at camp it was going to be how to lead conversations so that people gave you the information you were supposed to be giving them. But Kyle was insistent that there would be real psychics, so Lincoln gave up and just stared out the window for the rest of the trip, allowing Kyle's voice to become little more than annoying background noise.

The longer they drove, the smaller the towns they passed through became until for the last hour the closest thing to civilization they passed was an old gas station that looked like it hadn't been used in years. Lincoln thought he was about to die of boredom when they passed a hand carved sign that said Camp Mukwana 1 km on right.

The trees this far north were quite a lot larger than the ones back home, and probably a lot older too. The turn off into the camp snaked between two of the largest trees Lincoln had ever seen. They drove for another kilometer or so before coming to a gate with an electric arm and a drive-through microphone. Kyle's mom pulled up beside it and rolled down her window. A few moments later there was a loud squeal noise followed by the soft, tinny sound of an older lady's voice. “Name?” She said in place of a greeting.

“Dougan.” Said Kyle's mom. “Kyle Dougan and Lincoln Matthews.”

“Dougan... Dougan... Dougandougandougandougandou... ah! There you are. I don't see a Lincoln Matthews here though.”

“He hasn't registered yet.” Said Kyle's mom. Lincoln sank deep into his seat, suddenly sure they weren't going to let him in and he was in for another six hour drive before being sent to his aunt Fred's.

“I'm sorry but everyone must be registered.” Said the exasperated voice of the old lady, as though she had to say this to everyone.

“I think you could find a spot for him.” Kyle's mom said. “If not I'll just have to take Kyle and his money home with me.”

“MOM!” Kyle shrieked, his face twisted into a look of sheer horror. His mom frowned at him and made a shush gesture.



“Well I'm sorry that you feel that way, but we can't just let every... hold on.” Said the voice and then there was another squeal followed by silence. This went on for several tense minutes wdurig which Kyle looked like he might start bawling and Lincoln felt more and more sick to his stomach. After what seemed like a very long wait the air was rent by the horrible squeal and the voice returned sounding even less enthusiastic than it had earlier. “It looks like we will be making an exception this year. There was a buzz and the gate arm lifted. “The parking lot is just through the gate on the right and the main lodge is straight up the road past the baseball diamond, beside the pond.” Then there was a squeal and the speaker went silent.

The gravel crackled beneath the tires as they drove slowly through the gate and made their way into the camp. Only a few meters in there was a wooden sign painted white with red letters that said PARKING LOT stuck to one of the trees. Kyle's mom pulled in and found a parking spot. There were several other cars there and campers at various stages of unloading their camping gear. Kyle began to look a little green as his mother shut off the van.

“Did you think it was going to just be me and you?” Lincoln asked.

Kyle swallowed hard. “I hadn't really given it much thought.”

“We could forget the whole thing and go home.” Lincoln suggested hopefully. “Then I could stay at your place instead of aunt Fred's.”

“No.” Said Kyle. “A stranger is just a friend you haven't met, right?” He added lamely.

“Right.” Said Lincoln. “Unless they are serial killers. Then they're serial killers, not friends. Unless you like hanging out with serial killers, I guess.”

Kyle turned around in his seat to look at Lincoln. “Why don't you say serial killer a few more times?” He shook his head and got out of the van.

Beside the van there was a young blonde boy, possibly twelve, with large glasses, freckles and a bit of dirt on his nose. His mother, also short, with her blonde locks pulled into a tight ponytail, spit on a kleenex and attacked the noise stain with vigour. The kid tried to wrestle her away but she would not be deterred. Lincoln knew the embarrassment the boy must be feeling, but at the same time, he was a little bit envious of the attention the kid was getting from his mother. He wished his mother care that much about him.

Behind him, Kyle was grunting. “Can you help me with this?”

Lincoln turned and saw him trying to carry the bag full of canned goods. He slung his own bag over his shoulder and grabbed one of the handles on Kyle's bag. “Thank you,” said Kyle, breathing as heavily as if he had just finished running a race.

“Do you want me to walk with you to the main lodge?” Kyle's mother asked a bit hopefully.

Kyle nodded but Lincoln stepped between them. “I realize that this is your first summer apart, but it wouldn't be good for Kyle if he showed up with his mommy when no one else is doing that.”

A quick survey of the parking lot showed that Lincoln was right. All of the other parents were sending their kids off and getting back in to their vehicles, some more tearfully than others. “I suggest you two say your good-byes now.”

Kyle and his mother reluctantly agreed and after Kyle's mother tried to pull him in for a fifth hug Lincoln had to intervene. “We had better get to the lodge or they are going to start without us.”

“Good-bye, Ky-Ky,” said Kyle's mom shakily, getting back into the van.

Kyle immediately went scarlet and waved. “She hasn't called me that in years.” He muttered, casting furtive glances around the parking lot to see if anyone had heard.

Lincoln chuckled. “This must be hard on her.”

“Yeah. I've never done anything like this before. Aside from spending the night at your place once in a while, I've never been away from home over night.”

“It's a brave new world.” Lincoln said. “You gonna make it?”

“I think so.” Said Kyle. He turned as his mother beeped the horn on her way out of the parking lot. “I guess I have to now.” they picked up his bag and began walking to the main lodge.