Across the Lake

Chapter 18: The Camper

...

I did not get a lot of sleep last night. The Necronomicon decided to continue to make fun of me, by giving me dreams of Jason running his hands all over me; and taking his clothes off in front of me. I didn't know what was happening so I just went along with it. His tree trunk like arms wrapped around me, pulling me closer to his scar riddled body. I felt my chest press up against his. He gazed down at me through his mask.

Then, he lifted his mask to kiss me, once he revealed his face, his mouth opened, and he projected vomit all over me, causing me to scream in terror, waking myself up from the nightmare. My tank top and shorts stuck to my soaking body. There was no vomit on me, just sweat and trauma. The Necronomicon was sitting at the edge of the bed, propped up against one of the bed posts, and staring at me. I gave it a glare before checking the clock on the night stand. Eleven am. Almost noon.

Crap! I should get up, I thought to myself as I continued to lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling. The sunlight streamed in from the window next to me. I winced. It was going to be another super hot day. What was I going to do for the rest of the day? I thought back to yesterday. Oh right. I needed to get things from the general store. I needed to fix up a few things before my dad came back and saw what had happened to his cabin. I turned my head and gave the Necronomicon a look. That damn book.

The burnt couch cushions I could find something at the general store that can get the scorch marks off, or maybe buy some new ones...And a shit ton of fire extinguishers...

I was finally able to get myself out of bed and get ready to head to the general store. As I was grabbing my shorts from the ground, a crumpled up piece of paper fell out of my pocket. I bent down to pick it up. It was a flyer for the camp. Camp Crystal Lake. How did this get into my pocket? I don't remember pocketing it. I must have been out of habit. That, or Kenneth slipped it in there when I wasn't looking. The very idea of being close to that jackass put a bitter taste in my mouth.

Camp Crystal Lake.

I thought back to last night when Jason signed the words for me in ASL and tried practicing them.

Camp...Crystal...Lake...

Blush crept along my cheeks when I thought back to us being super close. Our foreheads touching, and his soft gaze. A smile grew on my face at the memory, then was quickly pushed away when my eyes fell on the cursed book of skin. I turned my back to the book. I didn't want it seeing me smiling and make fun of me again. I could practically feel it wanting to mock me:

"You and Jason sitting in a tree...

F-U-C-K-I-N-G..."

My face burned at the thought of Jason and me having sex. Jason didn't seem to like the idea of having sex. Anytime I got excited at the idea of his shirt off or holding me, he would turn his head and look at me as if he knew exactly what I was thinking about. He drowned in the lake because two counselors were having sex. His mom found out and went on a killing rampage because of it. I don't think sex is allowed in his family.

I shook the thoughts out of my head. My eyes scanned the flyer still in my hand. I had never actually read what they did at the camp: Archery, campfire, learning to pitch a tent, arts and crafts. I smiled a small smile as I saw a picture of kids playing with acrylic paints and sculpting things out of Play Doh. I would have loved the arts and crafts table if I had g-

My heart skipped a beat.

Wait...I had gone to the camp. My sluggish brain went back to yesterday. That's right...Jason knew my name before I even told him.

I stared at the flyer. Seeing all these amazing activities. Did I really go to camp when I was ten or eleven? Why couldn't I remember? How was it that Jason had known me fifteen years ago and I couldn't remember ever going to the camp or even seeing him? I know for a fact that I wouldn't forget a six and a half foot tall undead man in a hockey mask. I thought for a moment and then an idea came to my mind.

Only one person could tell me right now.

I walked over to the dresser where the radio sat. I clicked the radio on and punched in my dad's radio number. "...Hey, dad?...can I talk to you?" I asked into it. Static answered me. I awkwardly waited, looking down at the radio. Was I doing this right? After a few more minutes, I tried again.

"Dad? You there? ...Over," I decided to add to show I was done speaking. I felt a little silly saying 'over.' A few more seconds of static before my dad finally picked up.

"Hey, kiddo! What's up? Over," he asked in his overly cheery voice.

"Hey...dad. I was wondering if I could ask you something...over," I said.

"Shoot. Over." my dad said.

"...I was wondering about Camp Crystal Lake...did I go to it? Everyone's been acting very weird ever since I got here. Saying I'm a camp counselor and saying I've been to the camp..." I asked. I was not going to tell my dad that The local serial killer Legend, Jason Voorhees, remembered me from the camp fifteen years ago. One step at a time.

My dad was quiet for a very long time.

"Dad?"

"Sorry...I...yeah...Yeah you...you went to that camp...Did you volunteer to become a camp counselor?" he asked. I could hear the nervousness in his voice. I shook my head. "No. I had no intensions of starting a summer job here; but everyone is acting like I am," I explained.

Silence followed after.

"...I don't remember going to the camp," I added, breaking the long silence.

"Well...It was ten? twenty years ago? So I wouldn't worry about it too much-" he started.

"But that's the thing. I should be able to remember something, right? I don't remember what I did or what I learned. It feels like a black hole where my memories of being a ten year old are supposed to be." I explained to him.

I wasn't able to get an answer from my dad. A different voice cut through our conversation from my dad's end. "Oh, daaarrlliinnggg...why are you on the radio? Why don't you come over here..." I heard a female voice say on the radio, causing my blood to run cold. I could hear my dad cursing under his breath and snapping at the female. I imagined that my dad was in a room somewhere and this mysterious woman was with him in his bed. Was it that one woman the ranger mentioned? The one that allowed him to build this cabin on Camp Crystal Lake property? The idea of my dad having sex, not caring what he had done to our family, enraged me.

"I'm talking to my kid! I'll be there in a minute!" I heard my dad snap at the woman, then he turned back to the radio.

"Hey, kiddo...can I talk to you later?" he asked me.

I felt my blood go from ice cold to super boiling hot. "Yeah...sure dad..." I said through clenched teeth. But what I really wanted to say was: Yeah, sure, dad. Go fuck your whore. She's more important than me right now."

"Thanks. I'll talk to you later. Love you. Bye," He ended the connection before I could say anything else to him. The anger inside me wouldn't settle. It took over my mind. My grip on the radio tightened. How could he? How could he do this? When I needed him?!

Roaring, I chucked the radio hard across the room. It made contact with the wall. Plastic bits flew everywhere, and parts of the antennae broke off. My contact with the outside world was gone. Any help I needed...gone. Hard breaths escaped from my mouth as I glared at the broken radio, imagining it to be my dad dead on the floor. Eventually, the anger subsided. My hands unclenched from being in fists. I took a deep breath and exhaled.

I could feel the Necronomicon's dark sockets staring at me, but I didn't care. My asshole of a father could pay for the damages; I needed to get out of this cabin. Get some air. Calm down. This cabin was becoming too hot to be inside. I stormed out of the cabin and stared out over the lake. Minutes passed as I stared out over the glistening lake. I took a deep breath and sighed, shoving the thoughts of my dad and his whore-friend aside. I sat down on the porch and thought what I could do.

In the end I decided to still go to the general store. I was running low on food, and I still needed items for myself to make it through the summer. With that, I got up and walked back inside the cabin to get ready. Sunglasses. Hat. Sunscreen. Anxiety meds. Cash. Car keys. Cabin key. I locked the front door before going down the porch steps to my car.

Pine needles decorated the hood of my small vehicle. I didn't bother brushing them off, knowing they would fly away once I was moving. The radio began to play once I turned the key into the ignition. Maple leaves danced on the road as I drove by them. A deer ran in and out of the trees before disappearing into the forest. I had my windows rolled down and the AC blasting as the sun burned above. Once I got to a stop light closer to town I decided to check how much fuel I had. I was a quarter tank. Thankfully, gas prices were cheap in this small town.

I rolled my car into one of the gas stations and filled up my car to a full tank. Fortunately, Ralph Jr. wasn't there to tell me that I was a camp counselor and that I was doomed or whatever. There was another guy running the gas station today. After I was done filling up, I drove down the beaten, pot holed road towards the general store.

...

"Hi. Where could I find the fire extinguishers?" I asked the store clerk at the only cash register. He thought for a minute before silently pointing a finger over to the back, then went back to looking at his old car magazine. I thanked him before pushing my cart down the cereal aisle, past the home gardening supplies, then finding the home appliances and eyeing the fire extinguishers. I placed five into the cart, two at a time. I stayed there looking at my cart for a minute, then grabbed two more. I was stuck with this book for possibly the rest of my life. Might as well stock up now.

Cart full, I decided to look for some food. I went back to the cereal aisle to see if they had anything that wasn't old person cereal. The cereal aisle lacked color. Majority of their cereal boxes were different shades of brown and grey and had boring looking cereal in them. Similar to cut up pieces of cardboard in a bowl of milk. I found a box that at least had toasted marshmallows in their cereal and reached up to grab it. Just as I had my fingers wrapped around the box, a loud noise erupted, causing me to flinch, nearly losing my grip on the box.

"Shut up, Junior! You don't know what you are talking about!" I heard a young male voice snap. The voice carried over the whole general store. I saw all the elder locals staring in the direction of the commotion. Leaving the cereal aisle, I decided to see what was going on. In the middle of the store, Ralph Jr. and Sheriff Jackson were facing each other. Their eyes narrowed and hands balled up into fists.

"Yes I do, sheriff! You know its happening again! You must put a stop to it before we are all doomed! You and your older brother went to that camp when you were kids! Your older brother became one of those camp counselors! He was murdered by J-" Ralph started shouting, but was cut off when Jackson lunged at the old man and took him down to the floor. Canned corn and green beans fell to the floor around them, nearly tipping the shelf over in their fight.

"Hey! Knock it off you two!" shouted Sheriff Carson, suddenly appearing and grabbing the men by their collars and yanking them apart like they were two German Shepards. Ralph Jr. got to his feet and rubbed at his throat. "I'll make sure to write a report against you, Jackson! I know your boss!" Sheriff Jackson got to his feet as well and got ready to lunge at Ralph Jr. again, but Sheriff Carson blocked him and gave him a rough shove backwards.

"Stand down, Jackson! You know better!" Carson snapped. Jackson glared at Carson with hatred. The two sheriffs stared each other down. Chests puffed out. Eyes throwing daggers at the other. Teeth clenched. I thought I was going to see another fight break out between Carson and Jackson.

Eventually, Sheriff Jackson backed down. He huffed angrily at Carson and stormed away from the old sheriff and Ralph Jr. towards my direction. I held my breath when he got closer. I could see his narrowed eyes under his wide brimmed hat, and his fists clenched at his sides. I had never seen him so upset before. His glaring eyes settled on me and immediately his pace slowed.

"Oh. Hey. I didn't expect to see you here," he said, quickly going from super angry to his casual, easy going personality. Acting as if what just happened seconds ago never happened. I looked around and saw all the locals staring at us. They quickly looked away and continued on with their shopping. Sheriff Jackson's eyes flickered down to the cart in front of me.

"...That is a lot of fire extinguishers," he pointed out. I already knew what I was going to say to anyone who noticed that. "My dad never updated the fire extinguishers in the cabin so I thought I'd do it myself...can never be too careful," I said. Sheriff Jackson nodded his head. "Ok...that's...that's a smart idea," he said.

"Hey. There you are," I heard another familiar voice say, causing my heart to twist inside my ribcage. Kenneth came up and wrapped his arm around my shoulders, causing me immediately to flinch away from him. "Don't touch me," I hissed at him. His cocky smile disappeared from his ugly face.

"What's your problem?"

"You are the problem," I snarled at him. Kenneth smirked. "I always forgot how ugly you looked when you got angry at me," he threw back at me. Before I could think of a comeback, Kenneth spoke first, changing the subject.

"So. Did you get my gift?" he asked me, leaning against the shelf behind him. It took me a moment to remember what "gift" he was talking about. The vase of flowers and the camp counselor shirt. He knocked on my door and then ran away. He knew where I was staying.

"Oh yes, it looks great in my trash," I told him, causing his eyes to narrow. I narrowed my eyes back at him. "You have a girlfriend. Do you want me to tell her that you are sneaking over to your ex's cabin and leaving flowers?" I asked him. Kenneth's face turned red, but his eyes kept glaring at me. That's when Sheriff Jackson stepped between us.

"Is there a problem here?" he asked, eyeing Kenneth. Kenneth straightened up and tried making himself taller than Jackson. "None of your business, sheriff," he spat. Sheriff Jackson squared his shoulders. He looked like he wanted to get into a fight again. Let all the anger out on Kenneth after what happened with Ralph Jr. He never got all the anger out of his system. I took a few steps back, not wanting to suddenly get punched in the face by flying fists. Kenneth noticed me step back and did the same.

"Whatever," he muttered before walking away.

I didn't realize I was holding my breath and exhaled. Sheriff Jackson exhaled out of his nose before adjusting his hat on his head. "What an asshole...I'm guessing he's your ex?" he asked me. I nodded my head. "Yeah, he somehow found out that I was here. Ralph Jr.'s rumor of me being one of the new camp counselors here somehow got around and that's why he and his girlfriend are here," I told him.

Sheriff Jackson nodded his head. "Ah. Well, I've been talking to Ralph Jr. He wont be spreading rumors about you anymore," he told me. I thought back to when Jackson and Ralph Jr. were fighting on the floor only a few moments ago. Hopefully that wasn't the "talk" he was referring to. I nodded my head. "Ok. Appreciate it, Sheriff. Well, I better be off then, goodbye," I said as I began pushing my cart away from Sheriff Jackson. I walked down a few aisles before disappearing down one of them.

I finished up grabbing more food items before heading over to the cash register. I looked around to make sure Ralph Jr., or Kenneth weren't sneaking up behind me to say "I'm the new camp counselor," or that "me and Kenneth were getting back together" without my permission.

I wasn't looking where I was going and felt my cart run into someone in front of me. I snapped my head back to the front. "I'm so-" I started, then found myself face to face with Sheriff Carson. Both of his hands were on my cart, stopping it from hitting his waist. I stared at Sheriff Carson's wide frame. I never realized how tall he was. His messy grey hair peaked out from under his hat. His eyes were narrowed a little as he stared at me.

"You need to be more careful around here," Sheriff Carson said. I winced. He was upset that I had nearly hit him. Great. Now he hated me even more. "Sorry. I didn't mean to hit you. I'll pay more attention next ti-" I started. Carson let go of my cart. "I'm not talking about that," he said, straightening up to his full height. I closed my mouth, staring up at him blankly.

"What?" I asked him in confusion. Sheriff Carson crossed his arms and looked over his shoulder as if he sensed someone was listening in on our conversation. He turned his head back to me. "I mean, you need to be more careful around this town. The people you talk to. It's not safe for you here," he said. I blinked in surprise. I was not expecting him to show concern for me. I thought he, and all the other elder locals, hated me.

"What do you mean?" I asked him.

"I over heard you talking about the camp to Jackson," Sheriff Carson stated. The hairs on the back of my neck began to prickle. "Erm...yeah? It's what's going on here for the kids..." I said. Sheriff Carson narrowed his eyes. "Yes. And that you and your ex are going to be there as camp counselors," he stated.

I narrowed my eyes back. "I have told you and everyone else here. I am not going to be working there as a camp counselor. I am staying at my dad's cabin for the summer, to paint happy trees!" I snapped as I pulled the cart away from him and went around the sheriff. I had enough of these crazy locals telling me that I was going to be something I didn't even sign up for. What was their problem anyway?

I could feel Sheriff Carson watching me as I walked away.

"You were always the artist. I still have that drawing you did at the office," he said. That made me stop in my tracks. I turned around. "...What are you talking about? What drawing?" I asked. Sheriff Carson came up to me, placing his hands on his hips. "You don't remember? I guess it was fifteen years ago...but I thought you kids would have remembered that horrible night."

Horrible night?

I stared up at the sheriff. What the hell was he talking about? This old sheriff was crazy. I narrowed my eyes and was about to compare him to Ralph Jr.; I suddenly got the feeling that I was being watched and quickly turned around. A few elderly locals were staring at us, then quickly disappeared behind some shelves when Sheriff Carson glared at them. I turned back to Carson.

"You remember me?" I asked him. Carson nodded his head. "Yes. Everyone in the town does. You and Kenneth both went to the camp," he said. My eyes widened in surprise. So that's why the locals acted weird around me. They didn't hate me because I was an annoying newcomer. They did it because they recognized me. I had been a camper when I was younger. Now years later, they think I'm back to become a camp counselor. Sheriff Carson seemed to know what had happened while I was at the camp all those years ago. This was my chance to find out.

"What happened when I went to the camp?" I asked.

"...Jason happened," Sheriff Carson said.

"...I thought he was just a legend," I pointed out, pretending I wasn't Jason's friend now.

Sheriff Carson shook his head. "He's real alright...Which is why you and your ex need to leave this place...before he comes back to the camp and kills again," he told me. I was about to ask him more questions, but Sheriff Jackson suddenly came up from behind me, startling me.

"Ready to go, Carson?" he asked. Carson silently nodded his head, then turned back to me. "Remember what I told you," he said before turning around and leaving with Jackson. "Wait! I still have more questions!" I shouted after him, but he ignored me as he walked out of the store. I sighed in annoyance as I stood there with my cart full of fire extinguishers.

...

When I got back to the cabin, my thoughts were like a broken record player with what I had learned from Sheriff Carson. It wasn't a lot, which frustrated me to no end, but it did help me further into this mystery. I had gone to the camp, which is why the locals recognized me, and Jason had been there as well. Jason's mom had terrorized the camp, and now they were saying Jason terrorized the camp.

Was that why Jason was here? Was he waiting for the camp to reopen and go after the counselors again? But they weren't the same counselors who had caused him to drown. I'm sure his mom had killed them. Then why did the sheriff say he was going to "kill again?" Was his mom telling him to kill for her? Kill for Mommy? But when she had told him to kill me, he didn't do anything. Was his mom's ghost still mad at after all those years? Reliving the same night over and over? I grabbed my bags of fire extinguishers from the trunk of the car and went up the steps.

I was too busy in my thoughts that I had tripped over something on the door mat. Thankfully the door was there to catch my fall, but a few fire extinguishers had fallen out of the bags. Angrily, I gathered them back up. The item I had tripped over was another vase of flowers. A wet card stared up at me from the wild flowers:

Sorry. Please forgive me.

I still love you

-K

I gritted my teeth angrily at the sight of the card. That stupid idiot couldn't take a hint. I chucked the flowers as far as I could from the cabin before slamming the cabin door as hard as I could behind me. I heard a knock on the door. Immediately thinking it was Kenneth, my rage took over again. I turned around and swung open the door.

"Leave me alone, Kenneth!" I shouted.

Jason blinked his wide eyes from behind his mask. I froze where I stood. "Oh...crap. I'm sorry Jason. I thought you were...Nevermind," I said, looking down at my feet in embarrassment. Jason came up and wrapped his arms around me in a hug. I hugged him back, breathing in the heavy smell of pine and earth from his jacket.

"I had a rough day," I admitted to him once we had stopped hugging. Jason tilted his head at me. I took a big breath and exhaled. "I just want to get away from people for a while," I admitted to Jason, not wanting to get into the details. Jason nodded his head. He understood completely. Living out in the wild. No care in the world. No stupid ex boyfriends, crazy gas station owners, or shitty dads. Just him and the lake. I envied him.

Jason reached around and picked up my cup of paint brushes that sat next to the coatrack. I smiled up at him and nodded my head. "Sounds like a wonderful idea, Jason. I told him. I grabbed my paints and canvas. Jason helped to carry my easel. With that, we both walked together into the forest. Ready to paint some happy trees.