The Short Tale of Henry Johnson:
First Day at Camp
"Harrison, where are we going?" Henry asked his friend.
Harrison was tall and lanky with a head full of curly blonde hair and lots of freckles. He was driving a red Honda civic they had stolen earlier. A very scary looking pack of dogs had chased them through Manhattan. Just hours before, they were working on a science project for chemistry at Henry's house. That was when the dogs burst through the window.
Now, they were barreling down a country road on Long Island. Henry couldn't see the dogs anymore but Harrison didn't lessen up on the pedal.
"Somewhere safe," Harrison answered.
"Okay, but where is that exactly. I mean, we have to at least go back and tell my mom what happened and that we're okay," Henry insisted.
"I'll take care of that later, once you're safe," Harrison said swerving to dodge a terrified squirrel.
"Well maybe if you want me to be safe, you should slow down the car," Henry reasoned motioning to the speed dial. They were now pushing ninety.
"Uh, right," Harrison answered and reduced the car to seventy.
"So, do you know what those dogs were? You seemed pretty scared back there," Henry tried to get an answer from his friend.
"Look, I know everything is confusing right now, but we'll explain everything when we get to camp," Harrison replied.
The road became quite curvy but Harrison did not slow down for the turns, which made Henry's stomach do somersaults.
"Camp, what camp?" Henry asked confused.
A large hill with a pine tree at its peak came into view. Without warning, Harrison slammed on the breaks. The Honda burned rubber as it slid to a stop. Henry, thankful for the seatbelt that was now choking him, breathed a sigh of relief.
"We're here," Harrison sighed as well.
"And where is here?" Henry asked as he looked out the window. He heard a noise from down the road. He looked and gasped, "Dogs!"
"What? They followed us! Go! Go!" Harrison yelled.
Henry fumbled with the door handle and tried getting out forgetting he was still buckled up. He then frantically tried to unbuckle himself while watching the dogs approach. Harrison had more success with his door and seat belt. He ran for the hill calling for help, though there was no there that Henry could see.
"Henry, what the heck are you doing?" Harrison yelled running back over to the car.
"Oh, you know, I thought I'd check and see if we had any dog treats," Henry snapped sarcastically finally getting the belt off.
"Oh, good idea, do we?" Harrison asked; he was a tad on the slow side when it came to things like sarcasm.
"No! Now where are we going?" Henry questioned.
"Up the hill, hurry! Past the pine tree and we'll be safe," Harrison pointed.
They trudged up the hill, as the dogs got closer. Henry glanced back at the approaching beasts. At first he couldn't quite tell what they looked like, but the longer he looked, the clearer he could see. They were large black hounds with foaming mouths. They were unlike any dog he had ever seen, and scarier.
"Let's go, Johnson!" Harrison cried.
That go Henry's attention, he hated when people called him by his last name. He ran up the hill but the black dogs were closing in. One of them ripped off the door of the car and tossed it up the hill. Henry shielded his eyes from the dirt that flew up from the impact. He was glad that they had stolen the car from a dealership and not a person. The dogs began going up the hill. Henry could tell they weren't going to make it in time. Harrison tackled one of the dogs and they rolled down the hill. Two dogs were seconds away from Henry. He was almost at the top of the hill. He looked around for something, anything. He could see a few buildings in the valley behind the hill but nothing close enough for him to get to. He looked at the tall pine tree. He decided to try to climb it to escape the dogs. He jumped for one of the branches when something caught his right foot that sent him spinning through the air. He hit the ground and rolled. He sat up and groaned. His right leg was bleeding from where one of the dogs had smacked him. They charged at him now. He backed up in fear. It seemed he was going to be devoured by the two beasts. They pounced, only it looked at if they had struck an invisible wall. They pounced again and again they hit the wall. Henry wasn't quite sure.
He heard a cry behind him. He turned and looked. A group of armored teenagers ran at him. One of them notched and arrow and fired it into one of the dogs. It melted into yellow dust. Two more arrows sprouted from the other dog and it too turned to yellow oblivion. Henry saw Harrison at the bottom of the hill wrestling with the one of the dogs. Two more stood close by waiting to finish of Harrison. Henry looked at the three discarded arrows. Instinct took over. He picked up all three arrows, stood, and prepared to throw them. Without thinking, he swung his arm forward as if he was throwing a dart. All three arrows sailed through the air. The armored teens stopped and watched in amazement as each arrow struck a dog right between the eyes. The beasts disintegrated in yellow powder. Harrison stood up coded in yellow.
"Oh, Michael thanks," Harrison said to the archer.
"That wasn't me," Michael said and motioned to Henry.
"Henry? Wow, nice aim," Harrison joked. He didn't seem fazed at all that those dogs could have killed him.
"Yeah, that was a nice shot, or throw I should say," Michael agreed. "Who are you?"
"Uh, my name's Henry, Henry Johnson," He answered.
"Son of…?" Michael questioned.
"Uh, my mom, Linda Johnson," Henry said confused that this guy wanted to know who his mom was.
"What about your dad?" Michael asked.
Henry glanced down at his feet, "I don't know who my dad is." He was uncomfortable that he was asking personal questions.
"Well, you're in the right place," a girl in armor behind Michael joked.
"And where are we?" I asked.
"Welcome to Camp Half-Blood," Harrison smiled.
He and Michael took me down to 'The Big House' and introduced me to a centaur and a guy playing poker with a can of Diet Coke.
"Your name is Mr. D?" Henry asked.
"Yes, it is, Harry, got a problem with that." he said.
"Henry, my names Henry and um no, sir," Henry corrected.
After they became acquainted, Michael led Henry away.
"Pfft, Mr. D. Does the 'd' stand for di-" Henry began.
"I wouldn't insult him, trust me. Even if we are out of earshot," Michael warned. "Have you heard of the Greek gods and goddesses?"
"You mean like Zeus and all that crap?" Henry asked.
"Yeah," Michael glanced at the sky nervously. "Well, um let's just get straight to it. They are real. They are still around and Mr. D is the god of wine."
"Wait, what?" Henry said almost laughing.
"Yeah, I know it can be a lot to handle, trust me, no one gets it on their first day. It just takes time. So I'll give you the tour while you process all of this," Michael said reassuringly.
"Uh okay," Henry managed still confused about Zeus being real.
Michael showed him the canoeing lake, the volleyball court, the strawberry fields, and the rock climbing wall which occasional erupted in hot lava much to the climbers' dismay. It was incredible. Seeing all of the strange locations that were just on the edge of believable.
"And here are the cabins," Michael pointed to a U shape of twelve buildings, "One for each major god," Michael explain. "Goddesses on one side, gods one the other. Hopefully, your godly parent will claim you. Is it your mom or dad?"
"Um," I thought about my mother and how distraught she must be. "I guess it's my dad. I've never met him so…" Henry trailed off.
"Yeah, that's pretty common among demigods," Michael nodded.
"Demigods?" Henry questioned.
"Half-blood. Half god, half-human. The gods like to erm mess around with mortals," Michael smirked. "That's where we come from. Camp Half-Blood is the only safe place for people like us. Monsters can smell us and they track us down to kill us."
"The dogs," Henry realized.
"Yeah, hellhounds," Michael agreed. "The older you get, the more dangerous you become and the easier it is for them to find you. So we send satyrs to schools to find half-bloods and bring them here."
"Satyrs?" Henry inquired.
"You don't know much about Greek mythology do you?" Michael asked; Henry shook his head. "Well, they'll kind of like us only half goat."
"Half goat!?" Henry exclaimed.
"Wait, so Harrison is a - a satyr?" Henry asked.
"Yup, protectors. Anyway, here is the Hermes cabin, until you are claimed, you'll stay here. Hey! Guys, this is our newest arrival, uh…" Michael announced to the large group of teens in the cabin.
"Henry," Henry supplied.
A few people greeted him back. Two older teens, brothers or twins even, smiled mischievously as if they were hungry tigers spotting fresh meat.
Michael whispered to Henry, "Steer clear of the Stoll brothers, remember, Hermes is the god of thieves."
After that, Michael took Henry to a fighting arena. There were several racks of all kinds of weapons.
"All demigods need to learn how to fight. And it might also give us some insight as to who your father might be. Here try this,"
Michael handed him a wooden bow. "Your trick with the arrows was pretty impressive. Not very many people have that precision, so I was thinking you might be a son of Apollo."
It made sense to Henry and he saw a gleam in Michael's eyes as if he was hoping to have found another friend.
"You're a son of Apollo, aren't you?" Henry asked Michael.
"Yeah, I'm the head counselor for my cabin," Michael answered.
Henry slid his fingers across the wood of the bow. He had never held one before but it somehow felt right.
"Um how do I…?" Henry began.
"Here, watch me," Michael said.
He took out his bow, notched an arrow, and aimed for a distant target. "Like this."
Henry mirrored how Michael held the bow, however something about it felt horribly awkward. Henry felt like he should know what was wrong, as if it was incredibly obvious, but he couldn't figure it out. He aimed the arrow anyway and released the bowstring. The arrow sailed through the air and into the dir, five feet from the target.
"Well I guess I was wrong," Michael said, clearly disappointed.
They tried other weapons, but none of them felt right to Henry. Michael offered him a bulky looking sword. Henry took it with his left hand.
"Wait, are you left handed?" Michael asked.
"Yes," Henry said confused.
"Of course you are, you threw the arrows with your left hand, but when I showed you how to hold a bow, you copied me. And I'm right handed, no wonder it felt so awkward to you. Here, try again." Michael handed him the bow.
Henry smiled at his own foolishness, and because he was now genuinely happy. He had never quite fit in at school and his mother was resentful but she still cared for him. He decided that he would call her and let her know he was safe. He held the bow with his right hand and notched an arrow with his left. He continued to smile at the thought of his new friends. He could tell my Michael alone that he would fit in here, regardless of who he was. This was a place for people like him; this was home. Henry released the arrow, already knowing it would hit the target dead center.