Chapter 8

Sandra

    The flames of the campfire weren’t burning too high.  It was the unspoken rule.  If they were going to camp on the grounds of the ruins of the Crane Mansion, they could only build small fires in places that couldn’t be seen from the gate.  If anyone saw the fire from the lane, the cops would be called and everyone would be sent home.  With nothing much to do in the town, camping here was always the highlight of the week.

    The rule made for smokey small campfires that were often hard to keep going.  There was a fine balance between keeping the fire small and having it accidentally go out.  It also made it hard to do all of the other fun things people did when they camped.  They couldn’t cook anything over this fire.  Not even s’mores.  The marshmallows never got roasted unless they were practically inside of these tiny flames which ended with the flames being put out by marshmallows instead of the marshmallow being cooked by the flames.

    The food the teens ate at the old Crane place usually ended up being sandwiches, candy, and sometimes a bit of fruit.  In the summer, that was fine, but when the weather started to change, the group often yearned for something a bit more.  For a while, one of them worked at a pizza place and would deliver to the Craine Mansion when his shift ended, but Tom, if Sandra remembered his name correctly, graduated high school two years ago and was now working for his uncle in Chicago, hoping to save up enough money for a college class or two.

    That meant it was back to cold foods only.  Tonight was warm enough that no one seemed to mind.  In fact, it was warm enough for Sandra to still wear the outfit she’d bought earlier in the summer to try and impress Carl.  He said he liked it.  It made her look like a blonde Daisy Duke.  The chill in the night air wasn’t making the short shorts the most comfortable attire, but there were enough people around to make her forget her cold legs as they chatted about the latest news in town and the world.

    It was the usual group.  Some kids from Claireville and some Garrison.  There were a couple of people new to the group, but most of the kids were kids that Sandra knew.  The big disappointment was that Carl wasn’t there.  Claireville’s own tall, dark, and handsome said he was going to come, but he hadn’t shown.  It was almost like last Friday when Carl said he would meet them up at Foster’s for a soda and sent his brother Dillan instead to say that he wouldn’t make it after all.  His dad kept him home with chores.  

    Sandra found that hard to believe.  Carl’s dad worshiped the ground he walked on for being so good at football.  If he was going to keep one of his boys home for chores, it would be Dillan.  The rumors that he had been seen with some other kids at the movies didn’t spare Sandra’s feelings any more than the poor excuse his brother brought.

    Tonight was another strike against Carl.  Sandra knew she should just give up on him, but crushes are hard.  She also knew that it was too late for chores so he couldn’t use that excuse again.  Maybe Carl hadn’t been able to get permission to camp out with the others.  Everyone always lied and said they were going to the fields to the north of town were people were actually allowed to camp.  However, parents didn’t always want their teens camping unsupervised, even if it was a legitimate spot.

    Other thoughts ran through Sandra’s mind as she pretended to keep up with the conversation at hand.  Maybe Carl wasn’t able to sneak out.  Maybe he didn’t want to.  This was the last chance Sandra was willing to give him.  She thought he liked her, but if he couldn’t make the time to see her, maybe she was wrong.

    Despite the pain she felt when she thought about this latest disappointment, Sandra was determined not to let it bother her.  There were maybe ten of them camping out together.  Fifteen if you counted the people who left early or only dropped by for an hour or two.  Sandra had met some new people, including a girl from Garrison she thought was interesting.

    “I’m at Claireville High,” Sandra told her when they were chatting.  “Do you go to Garrison?”

    “No,” said the girl.  She didn’t elaborate and Sandra didn’t push.  Maybe she was home schooled.  Maybe she was from one of those religious families.  It didn’t really matter.  She was nice.  She smiled a lot even if she didn’t say much and there was a lively spark in her blue eyes that told Sandra this girl could be a lot of fun.

    There weren’t many people who moved to Claireville or Garrison.  The small towns had their pride, but very little appeal.  New-comers were rare and most people who could get out, did just that.  Sandra knew that if if this girl had joined one of the schools, she probably would have heard about it earlier.  Rumors flew fast around here, but for the sake of being polite Sandra asked this girl the typical questions you would ask a newcomer, just to make her feel welcome and maybe to make a new friend.

    Her name was Nadia.  It was an unusual name, but it wasn’t one Sandra had never heard of.  It would be a pretty fab name if it didn’t sound so Russian.  People in these parts were really paranoid about anything that sounded remotely Russian.  In fact, old man Grovers had smashed up the only two headstones in the cemetery that had Russian sounding names on them and no one bothered to replace them.

    The graves had been from two women.  More than that Sandra didn’t know.  Just that the women had been related and that one died twenty years ago and the other one died more recently.  Mister Grovers was convinced that the two women had been spies since they arrived shortly after Russia took over certain areas after World War II ended.  There was no proof of that other than the Russian sounding name.  No proof that the name was even Russian for that matter.  It was just foreign in a way that made Mister Grovers uncomfortable enough to add these graves to the long list of suspected communists he thought were out to get him.

    Mister Grovers was in a home now so that he wouldn’t get up to so much trouble.  More importantly so that he would stop embarrassing his son who was trying to run for mayor in the fall elections.

    With all of the paranoia around, Sandra wondered if Nadia and her parents were facing any troubles because of all of the people who were convinced that the Russians would invade this boring farming town in the middle of nowhere.  Maybe when they were better friends, Sandra cold ask about it.  Until then, she kept the conversation a little more lighthearted.

    The two of them chatted and Nadia made Sandra laugh, yet never laughed herself.  The girl had a strange sense of humor and was very keen on the stories they were telling.  It was almost like she had never been to a campout before.  Even the over-told scary stories and urban legends seemed completely new to her.

    That made sense though if she was homeschooled or part of some religious group that had a commune on one of the farms.  Sandra thought that based on the way she was acting, Nadia was probably a very sheltered girl.  Everything she was hearing and seeing seemed to be new to her.  It was kind of fun to watch someone with so much enthusiasm for it all.

    The story telling became the usual competitions the boys had.  Who could tell the scariest story and get the most girls to scream.  It wasn’t just a competition to get the girls to scream, but also a way to see if a girl liked a boy.  Practically all of the girls knew all of the stories the boys had to tell.  If a guy liked a girl, he would sit by her when the story telling started.  If she like him back, she would pretend to be scared and grab his hand when she screamed.  The boy then had an excuse to put his arm around the girl or to ask her if she wanted to go on a walk together until the scary stories were done.

    Sandra was fairly immune to the tall tales and spooky ghosts the boys talked about.  She had seen every horror movie released in the past two years a hundred times working at Mister Dillard’s theater.  Also, Carl wasn’t here.  There was no reason for her to pretend to be scared and leap into the arms of another boy.  Even if Carl was there, Sandra saw no reason to play dumb.  She wasn’t going to play scared when she wasn’t scared.  If a boy needed a girl to be dumb and scared for him to like her, then there was probably a good reason for her not to like him.

    In her job at Dillard’s theater, Sandra collected the tickets when people came in.  She was allowed to stand in the back of the theater and watch the movie as long as she helped out any patrons that needed to find a seat or spilled their drink.  Sandra was also in charge of telling teens not to canoodle in the back rows, but she didn’t really bother with that.  As long as they weren’t going too far and as long as the boy wasn’t pushing himself on a girl who was less enthusiastic about it, Sandra left them alone.  She knew that if the teens in this town didn’t at least have a little bit of privacy in the back of Dillard’s Theater, Mister Dillard would lose most of his business.  Besides, everyone knew the theater was were you went to be amorous, the campfire was where you went to get scared.

    There had been two or three stories already when Frank started up.  Frank lived next door to Sandra and he was a lanky, goofy sort of boy, but started putting a bit of healthy weight on him since taking up track and swimming at the high school.

    “I know this tale ain’t new,” he said.  “But it’s a classic.  Prepare yourself for the tale of Hammerhands.”

    “You’re so stupid, Frankie,” Sandra protested.  “Don’t tell that one.”

    It wasn’t that Sandra was afraid of the story, it was just that it was gross instead of scary.  There was no suspense, no surprise, nothing interesting.  Just gore.

    “Why not?” Nadia asked.

    “It’s this old story that gets retold every single time we come here and every time it gets worse.  Pretty much, this carpenter goes out of his mind because Mister Crainee hired him to remodel part of his mansion and said he’ll pay him handsomely when his work is completed.  But Mister Craine was a sneak and a thief, so he never lets the man’s work be finished and won’t pay until it is.  Then finally after a month or two of this, Hammerhands has enough.  He snaps and goes through the mansion with a hammer in each hand, using them to kill Mister Craine and anyone else he comes across in the most terrible ways possible.  It makes me shiver to think about those things.  It’s an awful story.  The absolute worst.”

    “Fine,” Frank said, smiling at Sandra.  “No Hammerhands.  It’s hard to tell it right after you’ve spoiled the ending anyhow.”

    Sandra shook off a shiver and felt Nadia’s eyes on her.

    “It’s not the worst story out there,” Sandra leaned over and whispered to her new friend as the next story started up. “But it’s one that’s just too much for me.  I’m not someone who stands on gore and violence for its own sake.”

    Nadia nodded sympathetically, smiled at Sandra, and grabbed her hand.

    “Come on,” Nadia said.  Sandra got up and followed.  She could use a break from the stories and maybe Nadia had something better planned.  After all, the group always ended up doing the same thing when they came out here.  Set up a fire, eat their food, and then tell creepy stories before just chatting and wasting the night away.  Sometimes they fell asleep in the sleeping bags they brought.  Other times they just talked until dawn.  Sometimes someone brought beer.  Other times they managed without it.

    It was a nice tradition of coming out here every couple of weeks, but it did get old.  If Nadia had some new idea for fun, Sandra was all for it.  After a couple of steps, Sandra felt someone tugging on her other arm.  She turned around, breaking Nadia’s grip on her.  It was Frank.

    “Where are the two of you off to?” he asked.
   “Come on,” Nadia said.  She was watching Frank and Sandra with what Sandra assumed to be an annoyed look.

    Nadia started walking towards the building.  She wanted to go inside.  No one really did that.  From time to time people would dare each other to go inside for a step or two, but no one really went past the door.  The building was old and worn down.  It was a dangerous place at night.  Everyone knew that staying outside was the better bet.  The only option if they wanted to avoid angry parents or even calling the cops and an ambulance because someone was hurt or lost inside.

    Frank moved past Sandra and grabbed Nadia by the arm.

    “I can dig it,” he told her clearly seeing that she wanted to explore the Craine Mansion.  “But not in the dark and not without supplies.”

    Sandra couldn’t tell if Frank was scared of the immense brick building or genuinely concerned for their safety.

    “Then let’s do it in the day time,” Sandra said.  Nadia smiled.  She really did seem keen on exploring.

    “Yes,” Nadia said.  “Tomorrow with the sun.”

    Sandra shot Nadia a questioning look.  Had she missed the others talking about the football game?  Or maybe she just wasn’t interested.  Again, Nadia didn’t go to either school so why should she care about any games that were played.  Sandra did care though.  Carl was going to play and, despite her recently hurt feelings, Sandra wasn’t going to miss that.  

    “I can’t tomorrow,” she told Nadia.  “And I work on Sunday.”

    “Next weekend then, on Saturday,” Frank suggested.  “We’ll get a whole group going.  I’ll bring some rope and flashlights in case we find a basement.”

    “I’ll bring some sandwiches,” Sandra said.  “We’ll make it a picnic.”

    Nadia smiled.  “And more people.”

    “Sure,” Sandra said.  “I’ll invite Carl and Dillan.  Nelly too.”

    “I’ll bring Jackson and Janet,” Frank said.

    Sandra wonder if Nadia was lonely because she was homeschooled.  Maybe she didn’t have anyone she could invite.  Sandra wasn’t going to embarrass her new friend by asking, but Frank didn’t know that Nadia didn’t go to school like the others.

    “You should bring someone too,” Frank said.

    “I’ll bring someone here,” Nadia replied.  She smiled again.  The three of them went back to the fire just in time to see Carl arrived after all.  Sandra sat down next to him and let Frank chat with Nadia for a while.  It was after an hour or so that Sandra realized Nadia had left.  For a moment, she felt bad.  Hopefully, Nadia didn’t hadn’t felt ignored by her new friend.  Sandra made a note to apologize to her when they met up next week.  Maybe she would bring Nadia a box of movie candies from Dillard’s.