Read Online Camp Pleasant by Richard Matheson - Free Book Online Page A

muttered it after me. “He
is
insane. He should be p- put away.”
    We helped him up and Bob handed him his glasses which were cracked on the right lens. “You should make him pay for this,” Bob said in a thin, strengthless voice.
    “He’ll pay for it,” Merv said, but I don’t think he was talking about the glasses. He was still sucking in air fitfully, one hand pressed to his stomach.
    “Take it easy, Merv.” I said again. “It’s all right.”
    “The swine. The
swine
.” Another sob he couldn’t hold.
    “Do you have any place to go, Merv?” I asked.
    He stood on the moon-white road, his thin chest rising and falling jerkily, his dazed eyes staring at the camp.
    “He should be put away,” he said in a hollow voice. “The
dirty, filthy-minded—”
    He broke off with a liquid coughing, then closed his eyes and gasped as a spasm of pain struck his stomach. I caught his arm and braced him as he bent over, making pitiful little sounds of pain.
    “It’s all right, Merv,” I said, “all right.”
    Finally he straightened up, white-faced, breathing heavily.
    “All right,” he said hoarsely, “I’m all right. Thank you. Thank you.”
    “Merv, what about it?” I asked.
“Have
you any place to go?”
    He stared at me, his lips still trembling. He sniffed to stop the bleeding from his nose.
    Then he said, “I’ll be all right,” and turned away.
    I started after him and caught his arm. “Merv, where are you
going?
    “I’m quite all right, thank you. Leave me alone.” His voice was as even as he could make it. “I’ll be all right.”
    “But where are you going?”
    “I don’t know. Back to the city, I guess. I don’t know. I’ll be all right. Just leave me alone.”
    “Merv, maybe Jackie will help you,” I heard myself blurting.
    He stopped short and glanced over his shoulder. I sensed the questions in his mind. But he didn’t ask them. He turned away and started walking again.
    “Merv, what about your things?”
    He broke stride again, halted. “I’ll … well, will you … will you put them somewhere?” he asked. “I … anywhere, anywhere. I’ll have someone pick them up. I’ll—”
    He broke off and started walking quickly up the road, drawing out a handkerchief and dabbing at his nose. Bob came up beside me and we stood there watching him go. I didn’t know whether to run after him or not. He sounded as if he knew what he were doing yet, moments before, he’d been sobbing. We watched his long, ungainly form dwindle down the road that ran like a silvered ribbon between the black woods on either side. The black woods of Camp Pleasant.

 
1.
    Breakfast babble sank to a chatter, a hum, then died out completely. I looked up from my scrambled eggs and saw Ed Nolan standing at his table, across his face the expression he wore on occasions of gravity.
    “This won’t take long,” he began. “I’m just gettin’ up t’tell ya there’s not gonna be any more hikes for a while.”
    A rumbling of disappointed complaints from the cabins whose hike days were coming up. Big Ed lifted beefy arms.
    “Awright, aright,” he ordered. “Quiet down.” They quieted. “The reason is because the hiking leader quit on us last night.”
    A surprised buzzing. Scrambled eggs turning to scrambled lead in my stomach. My slapped-down fork made a loud clinking noise in the momentary silence that followed Ed’s raised arms but no one seemed to notice it. I pushed my plate away and glanced over at Bob. His face was a mask of unrepressed disgust.
    “Him quittin’ came as a surprise t’me,” claimed Ed Nolan. “But that’s the way it goes with jokers like that. Y’can’t never trust ‘em.”
    I looked at Sid. His head was bent forward a little and he was staring at his plate.
    Big Ed threw on the mantle of good-fellowship.
    “Anyway—” he said as though pushing aside all uncharitable thoughts as unworthy of himself—”that’s not here or there. When ya run a camp, ya take the good