Chapter One

By Daniel Hofmann

            The dirt road was as uneven as it was long. Even though it was surrounded by the bland colors of the Texas heat – dead grass, sparse trees, and sickly cacti – it was still a remarkable thing. Most days out of the year, this road lay untouched by the world around it. Most days, this dirt road sat completely unnoticed by the too-busy-but-thanks-anyway traffic that buzzed past it.

            But today was not such a day. Today was the beginning of summer.

Shane Solomon checked his phone as he turned onto the dirt road. I’m officially nowhere, he thought when the phone couldn’t pinpoint his location. Thunking the phone on the seat next to him, he looked out to survey the terrain. The most stimulating sight he could find was the over-turned husk of a long-dead tree. As his car trundled past, Shane eyed the tree, and couldn’t help thinking it was a less-than-positive harbinger of what was ahead of him.

There’s still time to go back, he told himself, you haven’t given up your summer yet.

“But what else am I gonna do?” He asked his reflection. “I’m sure as hell not staying home this summer. What would I do there, just stew until school starts again? Eff that.”

Shane had just finished his freshman year away at college and had come to the news that his family was moving. His father had received a “really great opportunity” in a small town in the middle of the Texas hill country, so Shane, his parents, and his younger sister had transplanted themselves from the metropolis of Boston, Massachusetts to, as far as Shane was concerned, the gutter of the country.

Up ahead, Shane noticed a square of bright yellow, which turned out to be a sign stapled to a tree that read:

"YOU’RE ALMOST HERE! WE 'CAMP' WAIT TO SEE YOU!"

Shane cocked an eyebrow at the sign. The curly letters were written in alternating blue and purple ink, and surrounded by green stars that had each been given a cartoony smiley face. The whole poster looked like it had been dunked in a Lisa Frank fever dream. Shane drove past the sign and saw that there were more like it, spaced closer and closer together the further down the road he went.

Ten minutes and twenty enthusiastic posters later, Shane arrived at an open gate, with the following words emblazoned in rusted metal on a wooden sign that stuck five feet out of the ground:

"CAMP PEACE"

"Where Lost Ones Find Purpose"

        

Shane parked his car to stare at the words. Lost ones? How is anyone around here not lost? This is the middle of the middle of nowhere.

Shane had never wanted to be here. He knew that if his family had never moved, he’d be in the midst of his old Boston friends, all home from college. The summer would be endless and their nights would go on forever.

But now I’m here.

________________________________________________________________

When his family had arrived at their new home, Shane knew as soon as he walked in that he would have to get out. He loved his mother, his father and his sister, but he knew a summer living at home would drive him and his family insane. So he had gone searching for a job.

It was outside the local movie theater – one of only a few places to go in his new town that wasn’t overrun by slow-moving senior citizens – that Shane had seen a tiny, sun-bleached flyer for Camp Peace. It had declared the promise of lost ones finding purpose, and it had caught Shane’s eye then too. He had ripped the flyer off the wall and taken it home, completely forgetting about seeing a movie.

In his new bedroom, among boxes of his old life in Boston, Shane had smoothed out the flyer on his desk and read it more clearly:

           “Are you lost? Do you know what you’re supposed to be? Come work at Camp Peace as a summer counselor and find out who you are! No need to call! Just be here at 12:00pm on May 25.”

Shane had turned the paper over, hoping for directions, or at least an address, but had found nothing. He turned it over again, as if the front of the flyer was going to reveal something it hadn’t yet. But it was the same – the same enigmatic announcement, the same date and time, and the same large logo on top of a peace symbol, with the letters C and P worked into the design. Pulling his laptop toward him, Shane had searched the internet for a sign of Camp Peace, and found postings by other people asking about the same place, but not a single one had been answered. As Shane had clicked through these queries, he’d found that they were from people all over the country. Some were even dated as far back as fifty years ago. Frustrated, Shane had shoved the flyer in the trash bin next to his desk. It would be a week before Shane thought about Camp Peace again.

His father had come home from his new job with rolls of yellowed papers under his arms. Dumping them on the dinner table, he had set in to venting to his wife about the hoops the new boss was having him jump through.

“Now they’ve got me cataloging old city maps!” He had shouted, “I mean, I didn’t leave Boston to spend all my time looking at someone else’s work, dammit!” He slammed his fist down on the table, sending several maps to unwind onto the floor.

“Shane, pick those up for your father,” his mother had said, as she gave her husband a withering, are-you-seriously-serious-right-now look.

Shane had ducked down to pick up the maps, but had stopped when he saw something familiar. In the middle of large blank piece of land was the same peace symbol logo that had graced the top of the Camp Peace flyer. Peeking over the tabletop, he had seen that his parents were still in the middle of a heated talk. He had rolled up the maps, making sure to keep the one he needed separate, placed those on the table and disappeared to his room with the map with the logo.

In his room, Shane had spread out the map so he could see a full picture. The road he lived on had obviously not been built when this map had been drawn, but the main streets in town were visible. Tracing them with his finger, Shane figured out where his house was, and how far it would be to get to Camp Peace.

Excitement and nervousness had blazed inside him, making him feel a little nauseous. Shane overturned the trash bin next to his desk to find the original flyer still intact. He read it once more.

No need to call! Just be here at 12:00pm on May 25.

Shane had looked at his phone. It had been May 24.

________________________________________________________________

So there he was. Shane Solomon, a young man with two options: turn around and go home, or drive forward and hopefully find out what Camp Peace was all about. One option held a definite summer stuck at home, and the other held nothing but mystery.

At the very least, Shane thought, I should find some people to hang out with.

As if it belonged to someone else, Shane watched his hands put the car in gear. He heard the crunch of the remarkable dirt road underneath his tires as they rolled him completely through the gate. On the other side, everything looked the same.

So why do I feel so different?

Shane turned around and saw the gate and the sign shrink away the further he got into the grounds. He couldn’t say why, but he was breathing heavily, like he did after running long distances. His eyes were still watching the entrance when he heard a shout from a voice like a musical note.

“HI! Oh, hi hello!!”

Shane slammed on his brakes and felt his chest constrict under the pressure of his automated seatbelt. Bringing his focus back to what was ahead of him, he saw a girl standing in the middle of the road. She was blonde, or at least Shane figured that was her original color. Her hair was full of multicolored highlights. She was wearing a tie-dye T-shirt with bright pink shorts. Her shoes were lime green, on top of neon argyle knee socks. Shane had no trouble assuming this walking rainbow was the one who had made the posters that had lead him here.

“Omigod, sorry!” Shane blurted. “I was totally spaced out there. I didn’t even see you.”

“Oh hey, no worries!” said the girl cheerily. “I was standing in the middle of the road, so if you’d hit me, it would’ve been both our faults.”

Shane was still catching his breath. “Yeah,” he said, “I guess you’re right.”

The girl bounded up to Shane’s driver-side window and all but stuck her head in the car. “Welcome to Camp Peace! I’m Brightlee!” She grabbed his hand and shook it. Shane was surprised to find her grip was vice-like.

“I’m Shane. And it’s… Brightlee?” Shane was sure he hadn’t heard her right.

“Yeah! I know it’s goofy, but I’ve found that it works best when you own your name, and don’t let it own you.” Brightlee stepped back and did a twirl, showing the full range of her colorful ensemble. “It’s a bit on the nose, sure, but it’s who I am.”

Shane couldn’t help but smile at her enthusiasm. “Yeah,” he said. Seeing Brightlee up close, he saw that she was around his age. Shane noticed the way her shoulder-length wavy hair framed her face. She had deep-set, distinctive blue eyes, a bridge of freckles across her dimpled cheeks and slender nose, and a small mouth bordered by thin, supple lips. “Yeah,” he said again, lost in the freckles on Brightlee’s face.

“Shane?”

“What? Oh!” If he hadn’t been sitting, he would’ve fallen down.

Brightlee smiled and her dimples had dimples. “What’s your last name?” She had produced a clipboard and a pen.

“It’s Solomon. Shane Solomon.”

She looked at her clipboard, and made a theatrical movement to check something. “Awesome! Your name’s right here! All you need to d-”

“Wait,” Shane interrupted, “I didn’t call or anything.”

“Right. You didn’t need to. Duh.”

“But how-”

“Oh, you’ll see,” Brightlee said with a wink. “Get going! You don’t want to miss the beginning!”

“The beginning of what?” Shane asked.

“Just go, silly!”

“Okay, okay,” Shane took a breath, “It was good to meet you Brightlee.” He smiled at the rainbow in front of him and she smiled back.

“You too Shane. See you up there.”

As Shane drove on from Brightlee’s post, he thought that maybe this Camp Peace would be better than he ever imagined.

________________________________________________________________

As she watched Shane round a corner, Brightlee’s smile dropped from her face. She double-checked her clipboard.

Yeah, he’d definitely said, ‘Solomon’. She clutched at her tie-dye shirt. This is bad. He shouldn’t be here.

Brightlee never pretended to know everything in life, but at this moment, she was absolutely certain of a few things.

She would have to look out for Shane Solomon.

She would have to tell the others who he was.

And together, they would have to keep Shane Solomon away from that door.