Free Camp Nowhere by R. L. Stine

log cabins.
    We stepped inside. The lights were on, but the building was silent. Three of the four doors were closed. We made our way over the creaking wood floor to the open door.
    A hand-printed sign on the door read: FEARLESS LEADER .
    “This must be Uncle Brian’s office,” I said.
    “Hel-lo?” Charlotte called in. “Hello? Uncle Brian?”
    No reply.
    All five of us pushed through the narrow doorway into the office. A small desk cluttered with papers nearly filled the room. A box on the floor was filled with tennis balls. On the wall behind the desk was a handwritten chart: COUNSELOR ASSIGNMENTS .
    “Not here,” Erin muttered.
    I picked up the phone on the desk. “Why don’t we call Camp Hawkwood ourselves?” I said.
    “Does anyone know the number?” Erin asked.
    “No problem,” I said. “I can dial Information.”
    I raised the phone to my ear.
    Silence.
    I clicked it a few times. Silence. No dial tone.
    I felt my throat tighten. “It—it’s dead,” I muttered.
    I clicked it a few more times. Then I pulled up the cord. “Whoa—look. It’s not dead. It isn’t plugged in!” I cried.
    “Huh?” Erin gasped. “What is going on here?”
    I heard a cough. Looked up. And saw Uncle Brian—his big body filling the doorway.

20
    “Trying to make a call?” he asked. His tiny round black eyes narrowed on me.
    “Yes,” I said. “But the phone—it’s…” I held up the cord.
    Uncle Brian pushed past us and stepped around his desk. “The phone has been down all day,” he said. “I tried to call out a hundred times. But I couldn’t get a dial tone.”
    “But—but it’s unplugged!” I sputtered.
    He frowned. “Yeah. I know. I have to admit I lost my temper. After it didn’t work for the hundredth time, I just unplugged it.”
    He took the cord from me. With a groan, he bent down and plugged the cord into the wall. “Now let’s try it.”
    Uncle Brian raised the phone to his ear. “No. Still not working.” He set the phone down. “This has happened before. It’s so annoying.”
    “So I guess that you couldn’t reach our camp,”Charlotte said.
    He shook his head. “No. I hope they’re not in a panic over there.” He rubbed his stubbled cheeks. “But they probably are. Five missing kids…”
    “We—we’d kind of like to get back,” I said.
    Uncle Brian nodded. “Of course. I understand. I’d drive you back myself. But some counselors took the van in to be repaired.”
    He shrugged. “We’re kind of stuck. But don’t worry. I’ll keep trying. I’ll send up smoke signals if I have to!”
    We all thanked him.
    The knot in my throat started to loosen. I instantly felt a lot better.
    “You’re all missing dessert,” Uncle Brian said, plopping into his desk chair. “Better get going. We’re having a movie tonight, too.”
    He waved us to the door with both hands. “Relax. Lose those worried faces. Enjoy yourselves. I’ll take care of everything.”
    We made our way out of the lodge and around to the mess hall. “Maybe we could have Camp Hawkwood send our stuff here,” David suggested. “It’s a much better camp!”
    “Uncle Brian is so cool,” Marty added. “Guess that’s why everyone has such a great attitude here.”
    We made it back to our table in time for dessert. And then we helped push the tables against the wall. The counselors set up a movie screen and brought ina movie projector and several large reels of film.
    They shut off the lights. And we all sat on the floor and watched an old black-and-white comedy movie. It was called Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein .
    We laughed and hooted all through it. It was kind of funny. But I wondered why they didn’t show videos like this at our camp.
    After the movie, the counselors led everyone in a bunch of camp songs. Some of the songs were the same ones we sing at our camp. So we all joined in.
    We were feeling really good when Uncle Brian announced lights-out in fifteen minutes. Everyone scrambled to the