Camp Creepy Time: The Adventures of Einstein P. Fleet by Gershon Dann & Gina Gershon

Author:Gershon, Dann & Gina Gershon [Gershon, Dann]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Danger Media
Published: 2007-05-09T04:00:00+00:00

Cha p te r

Day Six — 11:06 P.M.

THE NEW HOUSE RULES 1. No loud shrieking permitted (after 10 p.m.).

2. No rattling of chains (or similar items).

3. No rearranging of cabin furniture without prior written permission.

4. No speaking in tongues or pig Latin.

5. No materializing out of thin air unless wearing pants.

6. No séances or conjuring of the dead (after 10p.m.).

7. No levitating objects (especially me).

8. No sing-­alongs or camp songs (ever).

9. No farting, especially with the windows shut.

As Roxie read the list, she couldn’t help but giggle. A few  seconds later, Greeley joined in and began to chuckle.

“Laugh all you want,” Einstein said firmly, “but the rules are  the rules.”

“Who died and put you in charge?” Greeley asked. “Oops,  I guess I did!”

The ghost laughed at his own joke and Roxie joined in.

All of a sudden, Einstein doubled over in pain. His belly  cramped and felt like it was filled with lead. “You wouldn’t  have anything to eat around here, would you, Greeley?” Ein-stein groaned. His stomach made a gurgling noise, like gas  bubbles rising from a tar pit. “I’m starving.”

“It must be your lucky day, Houdini,” the ghost replied.  Greeley levitated a medium-­sized brown box and dropped it  at Einstein’s feet. The parcel was stamped fragile in at  least six spots, but instructions had been completely ignored.  The brown paper wrapping was torn and frayed. Three out of  four corners had been completely crushed and were caked  with sticky white goo. Greeley admired his work with a sense  of pride. Tampering with the U.S. mail may be a federal offense,  but mutilating it was a time-­honored tradition. “I was going to  give this to you earlier.”

“Well, why didn’t you?” Einstein asked, eyeing the box sus-piciously.

“The truth is I forgot,” Greeley replied. “You want to file a  complaint or have a look-­see?” He gave the pummeled package  a good hard shake and it burst open at the seams. Einstein’s  eyes lit up as a bonanza of mutilated Twinkie cartons came  tumbling out of the box like quarters from a winning slot ma-chine. “Looks like you hit the jackpot, Houdini.”

“You can say that again,” Einstein said, ogling the Twinkies  like a condemned prisoner about to eat his last meal. He picked  one up off the floor and tore off the cellophane wrapper. Just

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as he was about to stuff it in his mouth, he hesitated and had  second thoughts. “Try one,” he said to Greeley, tossing him a Twinkie. “It’s  delicious.”

“No,  thanks,”  the  ghost  said.  “Junk  food  gives  me  gas,   remember?”

“He thinks we tampered with his Twinkies,” Roxie said,  shaking her head. She reached out and took a bite of the  Twinkie. “You happy now?”

He looked at Greeley.

“Okay, you win, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.” The ghost  stuffed the whole Twinkie in his mouth and smiled. “Hey,  these things are pretty tasty! Let me have another one of those  bad boys.”

Einstein tossed one to the ghost and stared at the pile of  Twinkies. Watching Roxie and Greeley eat only made matters  worse. His stomach emitted a loud rumbling sound like a vol-cano about to erupt.

 “We’re not the bad guys, Fleet,” Roxie said softly. “Believe it  or not, we’re on the same side. Let’s have something to eat and  try to relax for a while. Tomorrow is going to be a long day.”

“No battle was ever won on an empty stomach, I sup-pose,” Einstein conceded, grabbing a handful of Twinkies.  “Let’s eat!”

For the next thirty minutes they pounded down Twinkie  after Twinkie. They talked and told jokes and ate their fill. Ein-stein felt the best that he had in days. He was certainly more  rational. Greeley had rescued him from suffocating in his own  sleeping bag. Even if she had been too late to prevent the at-tack the night before, Roxie had rescued him from the infir-mary. They weren’t the enemy. Slowly the tension disappeared  and was replaced by a sense of camaraderie. Whatever they  had to face, they would face as a team. After his sixth Twinkie,  Greeley rolled over and fell asleep.

“That old coot has the right idea,” Roxie said, yawning.

Einstein offered to take the first watch and let her get  some rest as penance for his earlier outburst. “Get some sleep,   comrade.”

Before she could lay her head on the pillow, a mighty blast  shook the room, followed by the sound of muffled laughter.  Slowly, a foul stench permeated the room and lingered for  what seemed like an eternity. “All right, who broke rule num-ber nine?”

“It wasn’t me,” Einstein grumbled.

Another  cannon  exploded  and  echoed  throughout  the  cabin. This shot was louder and more potent than the first.

 “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Greeley chuckled.

“Open the window,” Einstein groaned. “It smells like some-thing died in here.”

“I resent that remark,” the ghost replied.

“Everyone go to sleep,” Roxie ordered as she buried her  head under a pillow. “Like I said, tomorrow is going to be a  long day.”

Greeley launched another atomic bomb.

“It’s going to be a long night too,” Einstein moaned.

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