The Count Who Went to Summer Camp
Chapter 1: Here Ve Go Again
"But Count, you promised!"
Feeling the pangs of another full-blown migraine coming on, Vlad rubbed his temples a fixed an exasperated glance at the little child gripping a handful of his cloak, who returned the look with a pout.
"Mina, I only made that promise because you refused to stop singing 'one hundred bottles of milk' until I did. That was 3 weeks ago. I thought you'd see what a silly request it is…"
"But it'll be fun!" whined the little redhead. "They have hiking, birdwatching, swimming, arts and crafts, and even horseback riding."
"I know, I know. Don't think I haven't forgotten that you filled my coffin with those brochures, young lady." He wagged a thin finger at her. "The thing is most of those activities take place during the day."
"No problem," Mina gave a dimpled smile. "You can always join us for campfire songs. And I bet you can tell the greatest ghost stories."
"You vin that bet," laughed the Count. A somewhat impish grin crossed his features. "I can tell you tales of ghouls that could curl your toenails. Why there was one ghost I met at a brewery, who every Tuesday night would…" Catching himself, Vlad chuckled at the puzzled expression he received. "Maybe I'll tell you when you're older, my dear."
"So you're coming then?"
"Mina, summer camp is a special place where you can make new friends and do exciting things. You'll be too busy having fun to mind an old bat like me."
"Never, Count," Mina piped up, shaking her head vigorously. "If you stay behind, I'll be thinking of you too much to have fun."
There was sincerity in her voice that Vlad was moved by the sentiment. Which complicated matters. It made it that much harder for him to stick to his original plan of indulging his blood thirst a little during Mina's absence. Yet deep down in his cold heart he knew that he'd miss Mina as well. The gloomy old castle failed to be a comforting place without the pitter-patter of little feet down the corridors or the peals of laughter they shared resonating among the vaulted ceiling.
The Count let out a sigh of resignation, gazing at the gray doleful eyes staring back at him. He knew he'd regret this as experience of their previous adventures taught him time and time again. And there would be a lot of work to hide him and make up a back-story for his presence. But it was worth the smile she gave him that made the decision simpler.
"Here ve go again…"
***
For the life of him, Mr. Harper could not figure out why the Count would need an oversize trunk. It was camping for crying out loud! The point was to rough it out, not wallow in luxury. He shrugged. Perhaps it was a European thing.
Strapping the darn thing on the top of their family station wagon was no easy task. And as hard as he tried to surround it with Mina's luggage, the shape of the trunk still resembled morbidly like a coffin.
"Mina, love, are you set?" he called. "Lucy, help your sister to load the cooler."
Wiping a tress of golden blonde hair from her face, the elder Harper daughter shot a grimace at Mina as she took the other handle of the cooler. "Honestly, why do I have to come, Dad? You're just dropping her off at the lake, not bringing her to the prom. I could be with Bobby at the movies right now instead of playing escort."
"At least I won't see her for a couple of months," muttered Mina as she tossed her knapsack into the back.
"The feeling is mutual, brat."
"Girls, be nice," Mr. Harper warned. "Funny, the Count hasn't shown up yet. Perhaps he changed his mind?"
Shaking her head, Mina hopped into the backseat as her father started the engine. "Don't worry. He'll be there later. He's got some last minute things to take care of."
Lucy turned and looked at her from the passenger seat. "What! You never said the Count was going to camp with you. I mean, your violin teacher? Why didn't you tell me…er, us?"
A sigh escaped from Mina as she shot a daggered look at her sister. "Why should I? So you can oogle at him? He's going to camp to relax, not to put up with your goofy-ness."
"Hmph. What's he doing at camp anyways? Spending the summer with a bunch of snot-nosed kids is hardly what I would do for fun."
"He's gonna be one of our counselors, duh." Mina bragged. "The Count also says he's been camping many times before. That makes him an expert."
***
"Vhat is Mina thinking?" Vlad groaned. The coffin about him lurched as the car pulled out of the driveway, bounding for its journey to Lake Thrush. Even through the wood of his enclosure his acute hearing could make out what the Harper girls were talking about below.
Mina had grossly distorted the truth. Sure he went to Monster Camp many times when he was a young ghoul, but he was always the little fiend who winded up in the infirmary with bug bites or deadly nightshade poisoning. He failed his swimming test (for the first and last time) and was ruthlessly teased by the other children, who gleefully did backstrokes in the swamp as he watched on miserably.
No, he hated the great outdoors. And he was almost certain he'd loathe the human experience of it as well.
Reaching up, he flipped on a lamp mounted on the side of the coffin. Vlad looked over the booklet Mina lent to him. It was an instruction manual of sorts that explained in detail of survival skills, edible plants and mushrooms, and other useless trivia for living in the woods.
The Count snorted with derision. His so-called expertise in camping would be limited to what he could glean from the book during the trip. He knew next to nothing about camping, and hoped that the other counselors wouldn't suspect it if he couldn't tell the difference between a figure-eight knot and an overhand knot. His only consolation was that they put him in charge of Recreation and not something that required more skill and responsibility. As long as he kept a low profile perhaps they wouldn't expect too much from him.
"Let's see." Vlad studied the illustration agin. "One loop goes over, the other end of the rope goes…"
Suddenly the coffin began to stagger and sway. It shook so violently that the motion vibrated through his bones. Teeth clattering madly, the Count dug his bony fingers into the silk lining, drawing out tuffs of goose down. Eye wide, he fought to keep himself from being jostled about like a bag of jellybeans.
"M-M-M-MINA!!! Vhat…is…going…on…out…there?!" He banged on the lid frantically.
The little redhead cheered happily and bounced in her seat as they pulled up to the gate. Clouds of yellow dust drifted in their wake as the end of the country road drew to a close. And through them, Mina could see beyond the four cabins clustered by the lake and the red canoes beached like whales on the white sand. Her heart leapt when she saw a dapple-gray pony tethered to post within the corral.
"We're here! We're here! We're here!" Bounding out from the car, Mina would have bee-lined for the corral if her father hadn't grasp a hold on the strap of her knapsack.
"Hold on, Champ," Mr. Harper chuckled. "We have to sign you in first." As he began conversing with the head counselor, Mina looked about at the other children gathering about, saying goodbye to family or calling out to each other. At last, she caught sight of someone she recognized.
"Martha! I didn't know you were going to camp too."
The bespectacled girl pushed the bridge of her glasses up her nose. Her face was riddled with anxiety as usual. "Believe me. I'd rather be at Space Camp. But my Dad said I needed a little taste of the outdoors to toughen me up." She shivered as if dreading the imaginary swarms of insects were coming for her.
Mina gripped her hand. "Don't worry. Stick with me and we'll get through anything together."
"Including that?" Martha inquired, gesturing to a group of boys that Mina only knew too well. Instantly their spirits sank as they recognized their classmates.
Throwing rocks at a terrified squirrel was her arch nemesis, Nick. As he caught sight of the girls, he elbowed one of the twins and nodded toward them. Squirrel forgotten, the boys had found a worthier target. There was a malicious gleam in Nick's eye and his lips drew back in a nasty grin.
"Well, well, if it isn't Mina Harper."
"Stuff it, Nick," Mina huffed, tossing her ponytail back. "You're not going to ruin our summer. This isn't school. If you try pulling anything, the counselors will send you packing."
"Is that so?" The grin grew wider. "Look Shorty, the boys' camp is on the other side of the lake. And only until you've proven that I was in your camp then I'm still safe, see?"
A bugle sounded and Nick scowled. "Come on, guys. That's the line up call." Giving Mia and Martha one last toothy smile, he called over his shoulder. "Later, girls. Don't stay out late or the Wraith of the Lake will get ya!" A chorus of guffaws followed as the boys slinked away.
Mina's brow furrowed. "Wraith of the Lake?"
Martha shook with fright. Her face blanched. "That's what I was going to tell you. According to legend, there's some monster that roams these woods. 200 years ago a hotel stood on this lake but it was closed when many of the visitors disappeared, including the owner himself. And ever since this camp opened 10 years ago, kids say they could see gleaming yellow eyes in the woods at night."
A skeptical look crossed Mina's face. "And who told you that story? Nick? Just because he's been here before doesn't mean he knows anything. He's just trying to shake you." She gave a smile to reassure the timid girl. "Come on. Let's see if we can get the same bunk." After saying goodbye to her family ("Don't even bother writing home, brat!), Mina headed inside.
What she forgotten was that while her counselor had picked up her bags, one oversize luggage was left behind. And it would have lain there undisturbed. But as the clouds gathered overhead and the swollen sky burst, heavy drops pummeled the surface of the coffin.
Irritably, the Count pushed open the lid, blinking as the rain splattered his face. He growled and clenched his fists.
"It just couldn't get any worse!" he grunted. He imitated Mina's voice. " 'I'll be thinking of you too much to have fun.' Vlad shook his head and returned to his normal voice. "Right. The child could have put me in a closet at least."
With a wave of his hand, the coffin hovered a couple inches from the ground and followed as its owner sought refuge elsewhere.