"That does make sense," Rex said. "Maybe we should organize a junior law enforcement corps back home. You think like a detective."
Lauren walked over to the edge of the cliff. "Why would Flea fall off the cliff?"
"Flea?"
Lauren solemnly explained, "That's her camp name. Her real name is Carlotta."
Rex looked questioningly at me.
"Lauren is fond of naming things," I explained.
Lauren continued, "The ground looks steady. It doesn't look like it would give way."
"Maybe she was being attacked by aliens?" Ava suggested. "And she backed away and fell off."
"Or a bear was chasing her and chased her off the cliff," Inez said.
"I think it's safe to say," Betty suggested, "that Flea wasn't a very good magician."
Kelly-the-Buttkill interrupted, "Okay, it's time to head back. Line up, please."
On the way back, the girls came up with a rather impressive ghost story. The camp was haunted by Flea, a first-time camper from Des Moines. Flea got separated from her tentmates and was lost. A fog arose, and she made a serious misstep.
You'd think the story ends there, right? Nope.
Flea stepped off the cliff and was rescued by aliens in a flying saucer. She landed on the outside of the ship just as a bear charged out of the woods to the edge of the cliff. But the aliens had just had their spaceship washed and waxed, so it was really slippery.
As Flea floundered, slipping off the ship, the bear reached out and took a swipe. Flea grabbed his paw and was able to get a foothold on the side of the cliff. But a tsunami came along down the Mississippi and washed her off the side of the cliff.
Think it's over now? Think again.
Flea landed on the back of Fred, the river monster, who was half out of the water, wondering, "What the hell is up with this tsunami? It isn't tsunami season!"
By the way, in Iowa, or on any freshwater river, it's never tsunami season.
Flea was a master equestrian, having won awards riding Cookie the Wonder horse with the Catalonians and Basque Separatists (two of Betty's favorite causes), so she steered the river monster toward the shore. But Fred, the river monster, wasn't having any of it. So he reared up, and Flea flew through the air, landing back on the cliff's edge that she'd fallen off of.
She was so happy, but just as she was about to do a Winnebago thanksgiving dance to honor her ancestors, Aunt June killed her by pushing her off the cliff. And she died. Now she haunts the woods. The end.
"I like that story," I said. "You guys are very creative. But why would Aunt June murder Flea?"
Betty sighed. "Because when Fred came out of the water, he smushed up her backyard."
"Everyone knows that," Lauren explained.
"I think we should write it down and leave it for Toad," Ava decided. "Just in case they don't have a cooler story."
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
A few hours later, the girls, Kelly, and Rex had gone to bed, and I found myself once again staring up at the ropes course. Maybe I'd imagined the figure up there the other night. Rex didn't think anyone could get down from that platform without being seen. Maybe it had been a ghost. Or an alien.
The folks around here all jokingly mentioned aliens, but their words seemed to be tinged with warning. Something was bothering me, but I couldn't put my finger on it. And that something was propelling me to the post, where I climbed to the top and stood on the platform once again. The wind ruffled my hair, and I realized how peaceful it was up here staring down at the lodge. In fact, I could see all the way to the river.
I sat down, back against the pole, and closed my eyes. Why hadn't I brought a harness? If I fell asleep up here, I could fall. When was I ever going to take safety seriously…at least when it came to myself? Maybe Kelly was right and I was a bad example of adulting.
A creak below caused my eyes to fly open. Leaning over the edge of the platform, I spotted a figure in black working its way up the ladder toward me.
Crap. I really should've brought a harness. Why hadn't I brought one?
"You!" I shouted as quietly as possible to avoid waking Kelly or the girls. "Don't come any closer!"
The figure didn't respond and kept coming. The moon was hiding behind clouds, so I couldn't see any defining details.
He was coming for me. And I had nowhere to go.
Looking around, I tried to find something to throw at him, but there was nothing. I could wait until he crested the platform and kick him to the ground, but I wasn't exactly sure that would work. He could grab my leg and toss me over the side. I didn't like taking chances that had a risk of me dying.
You know those rare moments when you're not afraid of something…say, heights? But then you find yourself at a dangerous height in the dark with no defenses? Yeah, that was now.
The figure was halfway up the pole. I needed to make a decision. Stand and fight and hope that he, not I, would plummet to the death. Or move on. I looked at the two routes available to me.
There was the single zip line. Without any equipment, I could only do that hanging upside down underneath it, creeping forward bit by bit. The other avenue of escape was the bridge of swings.
When I say bridge, I use the term loosely because it was really just individual swings, consisting of a flat board with a rope on either side, connected overhead to a couple of parallel steel cables that were out of my reach. But since that route had
