Camp Piquaqua

By Ashleigh Stevens

INDEPENDENT PUBLISHERS OF NEW ENGLAND
2021 BOOK AWARD FINALIST

 

Ana has the perfect job. Unfortunately, it means working with TJ.

 

We quickly huddled together, burying our heads under our bags. I lost track of time under the table with TJ's arm around me, shielding me from the storm. I was surprised that this annoying creature could make me feel so safe. I squeezed my eyes shut as a barrage of unfamiliar noises assaulted my ears and wondered whether I would ever open them again.

 

Seventeen-year-old Ana cannot wait for summer, when she gets to co-lead the overnight hikes at her uncle's family camp. Sure, it means working with her brother-in-law, TJ, a boy her age whom she cannot stand. But, she is willing to put aside their differences in order to have a fantastic summer. When tragedy strikes, Ana and TJ must work together, with the help of the legendary piquaqua bird, to help restore the camp in time for summer. 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ashleigh Stevens
• Release date: Oct 1, 2020
• ISBN: 9781386678236

Ashleigh Stevens

Once upon a time, there was a girl who loved reading and learning so much that she wanted to share her writing with others. She wrote her first novella at twelve-years-old, although it has never been published. She continued writing for the next twenty years, developing a writing style and finding a comfortable genre. In 2010, just before the birth of her first child, Ashleigh decided to publish her first novel. Not long after, Ashleigh decided to become a stay-at-home mother in order to spend time with her daughter and continue her writing. Currently, Ashleigh lives in Southern Connecticut with her husband and her four beautiful children, whom she homeschools. In her spare time, Ashleigh continues working on her novels, hoping to publish more soon.

Book preview

Camp Piquaqua

Other Works by Ashleigh Stevens

Chapter 1 The Storm

Chapter 2 After the Storm

Chapter 3 Camp Piquaqua

Chapter 4 Flashbacks

Chapter 5 Aftermath

Chapter 6 The Hike

Chapter 7 The Kiss

Chapter 8 Home Again

Chapter 9 A New Start

Chapter 10 Sunset

Chapter 11 Sunrise

Chapter 12 Opening Day

Chapter 13 Library

Chapter 14 Television

Chapter 15 The Bridge

Chapter 16 The Legend of the Piquaqua

Chapter 17 An Ending

Chapter 18 Loss

Chapter 19 Mourning

Chapter 20 Song of the Piquaqua

More from Ashleigh Stevens

About the Author

Camp Piquaqua

Ashleigh Stevens

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

CAMP PIQUAQUA

First edition. October 24, 2020

Copyright © 2020 Ashleigh Stevens.

All rights reserved.

ISBN 9781393994022

Edited by

Work In Progress Wonders

www.WIPWonders.com

Other Works by Ashleigh Stevens

Young Adults

Elephant on my Chest

Hartfield Chronicles

- Book 1: Adjusting to a New Life

- Webserial

Romances

Kayaks, Kisses & Monsters

Mooncrossed

Mysteries

(writing as Carrie Latimer)

One Night In Sedona

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www.AshleighsStevensBSB.com

Chapter 1

The Storm

I closed my eyes, letting my senses overwhelm me. The crisp air tickled my nose, carrying the perfume of the damp earth and fragrant trees. Chirping birds and humming insects mingled with the burbling of the distant stream to create a soundtrack for my peaceful afternoon hike. It was my first time on the trail this season, and I was determined to enjoy every blissful minute.

A gruff voice interrupted my thoughts. Ana? I can’t see the next blaze, can you?

I opened my eyes, turning to see TJ Mason several paces behind me. He had buzzed his brown hair for the upcoming summer season. He wore khaki cargo shorts and an orange Camp Piquaqua tee shirt, sporting a tan that suggested he had already spent some time in the sun. A natural outdoorsman, TJ had informed me he had been hiking all month. He stopped beside me, staring past me to find the next trail marker. It should have been easy, since he was half a foot taller than my five-foot-two, and I could see it clearly, but his squinting suggested he was having trouble.

I sighed, aware that no matter how much TJ might irritate me, I needed to be civil if I had any chance of enjoying camp this summer.

Stay here. Tell me if you can see it when I get there.

I walked about thirty paces to the next blaze, a six-inch red rectangle with rounded edges spray-painted a little above eye level onto a three-story maple. I could clearly see TJ, who smiled as he walked towards me.

We had been doing this leap-frog type of hiking for nearly an hour. I would walk to a blaze then stay put while TJ went to the next one. We both knew the trail by heart, but we needed to ensure the marks were visible for the families who would begin arriving later in the week.

Today, we were tackling the trail that led to the overnight campsite. It was nearly five miles long, although the access road was about half that distance. The trail wound through the natural features of the forest. Including the traditional stop for a snack at the half-way point, the trip normally took about three hours to complete. However, TJ and I knew we could be at the campsite in less than two.

So, you almost done with school? TJ asked as he passed me.

I shrugged. I got a few weeks left. Classes this week and next, then finals.

Finals?

You know. Big test at the end of the year to see what I’ve learned. I didn’t quite manage to keep the sarcasm out of my tone. How could someone in high school not know about finals?

TJ stood beside the next tree, sending me a confused look. What’s the point? Sounds to me it’s more like a test to see what you can memorize in the last week of school.

And yet, they won’t let me pass the eleventh grade without them.

TJ shrugged as I passed him. My mom makes me go through all my lessons, correcting all my mistakes from the year. I guess that’s her homeschooling version of a final.

We made it to the clearing in just under an hour, taking a few moments to make observations on its condition.

These logs are starting to rot. TJ walked along one as if it were some sort of round balance beam.

It looks like it can hold you. I no sooner got the words out of my mouth than TJ fell through the middle of the second log.

TJ sneered while waiting for my giggling fit to pass. I’m fine, thanks. You get to test the last one.

I shook my head. You weigh more than me. You should do it.

I had a feeling he knew I made a good point, judging by the glare he sent me as he traversed the final log unscathed. Ignoring him, I took a small notebook from my backpack, reading aloud as I wrote. Replace logs in clearing. All three?

TJ nodded. Yup.

The blazes seemed okay. I sat gingerly on one of the unbroken logs. It gave slightly under my weight.

TJ walked beside me. Yeah, I don’t think we need to do anything else so far. It’ll be the campsite that needs the most work, I’m guessing. Ready?

TJ offered a hand to help me up, which I ignored. I stowed the notebook, swinging my bag back onto my shoulders as I rose.

All set! I strode past TJ towards the stream just beside the clearing. There were places where the water was peaceful and quiet, but at this spot, there were many rocks. It was also where the river lost some elevation. As a result, it had a tendency to be rapid and rushing, particularly after heavy rains.

While it was technically possible to cross along the rocks, my grandfather had erected a small wooden bridge to help the campers hike more easily. Constructed of two large beams straddling the river, with planks across it, the bridge was barely two feet wide and had no rail. Over the years, I had seen several overnighters hesitate to traverse it. The kids were usually fine; it was the adults who tended to have reservations.

But TJ and I had no problems, crossing easily to the other side and continuing along the pass. It took us another hour to reach the campsite, during which time the wind grew stronger.

TJ looked around as the trail opened to the campsite. Man, this place needs work. He walked to the fire pit, a round hole in the ground about twice as big around as it was tall. He kicked a knee-high brick. This thing is full of leaves.

I glanced around. The entire site should be raked.

I sat on one of the logs beside the pit while I added to my list. TJ started on one end and walked towards me, stepping over and around me to continue to the opposite end.

I glared at him. Really? You couldn’t have started on one of the other logs?

TJ smiled, hopping onto the next log. Nope. I was hoping you’d fall in.

Grampa replaced all these just before he retired. They’re not as old as the other ones.

Yeah, I can see that. When all the logs passed his test, he inspected the picnic pavilion.

The shelter was raised about a foot off the ground and had a stone foundation with a wooden floor. Round Y-shaped posts were connected to the beams of the A-frame roof. Beneath it sat four large picnic tables. Meals were usually prepared on the long wooden counter at the far end. In the corner beside it was a large metal animal-proof locker for storing food, a latching cooler, and a wooden cabinet for the various cooking supplies.

TJ examined the lockers before looking back towards me. Do you have the keys?

I shook my head as I joined him. They’re empty right now. Uncle Owen brings everything down to the storage area for the winter. We’ll restock it when we drive up tomorrow. He said there’s a checklist of what should be packed in it.

TJ nodded as he opened the latrine door. This place looks okay. Doesn’t smell too much, either.

I peeked into the chamber behind the outhouse. The rich, dark soil was close to the top. We probably should empty out the compost. The worms must have been busy over the winter.

Ana? Come here a sec.

I am NOT going in the toilet with you.

Just come here. He sounded annoyed. I walked to the front of the building, where TJ was holding open the door. What’s your opinion on the seat?

I am NOT going in there.

TJ gave an exasperated sigh. Why not?

Because I don’t trust you. You’re gonna lock me in there or something.

Do you really think so little of me?

It wouldn’t be the first time!

I have never locked you in the outhouse!

You did so. We were . . . five I think? Yeah, because it was Uncle Owen’s first year as a counselor. You locked me in the toilet near the playground. I was stuck in there for half an hour before someone found me.

TJ laughed. Oh, yeah. I had forgotten about that. But, I’m serious this time. I think we should replace the toilet seat. What do you think?

I sighed, debating whether I should trust TJ. He hadn’t pranked me in a couple of years, but I wasn’t sure if that meant he had matured or he was simply biding his time.

Do you hear something? There was an urgency in TJ’s voice as he looked towards the southwest corner of the campsite.

I stood still, expecting to hear a bear or coyote, even though they were rare in these woods. The wind had quieted and all I could hear was a distant whine.

I shrugged. It sounds like the train. My southern