FILE 3. The Squall of Prophecy

*Mayfield and Belov presents: Camp Here and There.*

*Episode three: The Squall of Prophecy.*

(opening theme)

(there is a click and a chime as the intercom turns on)

SYDNEY: Merry breakfast, campers! The time is 8:64 AM, and I am feeling just peachy after a long night of playing victim to the soul-stirring terrors that lurk within my own mind. Nothing like a healthy nightmare or three to make one grateful for the time they spend awake! Huff!
(he claps his hands)
Alright!

Oh, goodness, right, so, I've a few things to discuss this morning. First off, counselors Juniper Sloan from Cabin Dung Beetle and Rowan Chow from Cabin Magpie Moth have been chosen to deliver the weekly salmon tax to our underground penguin overlords. Our trusty lake-guards, Mila and Juno, have offered to catch the fish using their camp-issue harpoon guns, but don't be shy if you feel like taking some initiative and catching them yourselves! You know what they say: Only dead fish go with the flow!

And speaking of Rowan Chow… I'm sure even those of you who haven't gotten to know him personally will remember him as the nice fellow who warned us all about that big nasty mercury storm — you know, yesterday? With all the penguins and those very fashionable hazmat suits? Yes, well. Rowan seems convinced that those weren't the last of the climatological catastrophes we'll have to… "weather." Heh. Heh. Hack. Hehahdbjlfhjlsbjlflg.
(he literally chokes)

Ahem. I just mean to say that he's quite torn up about something he foresaw this morning. Around 6:00 AM, when the sky was still green… I was traveling from cabin to cabin to administer some morning medication, and there I witnessed it: our man Rowan took one sip of the sky and nearly collapsed. He turned to me, leaky-nosed and starting to weep, and declared that a disaster of unforeseen proportions would bear down upon us before nightfall. He described it to me, campers, and spared no detail: lakes of boiling blood cascading down from above… screaming chunks of flesh, cannibalizing one another amidst the desperate fight to stay afloat… the world turned upside down. A vivid hellscape with no hope for relief.

He wouldn't go into further detail after that, campers, and Lucille seemed remarkably unconcerned when I brought the matter to her attention. When I suggested emergency response measures like we took yesterday, Lucille said that if Rowan’s prophecy is to come true, there’s no way to escape from such a fate, so we might as well just enjoy our last day alive. And, I mean… that’s true, but I still think we should play it safe if all of you are at stake! In any case, my fwuffy little ferrets, I suppose the plan is to go about today as scheduled…

This morning's meal consists of eggs benedict, eggs sampson, eggs augustus, candy necklaces, and grilled pineapples with tabasco sauce. Vegans, that last thing is for you; Mila the lake-guard, who helps out in the kitchens sometimes, gleefully informed me this morning that the pineapple is acidic enough to *"melt the marrow right outchya dang skull-bones, duuude!"* . . . . . So do take care.

Today's indoor activities would be… well, Counselor Warren from Cabin Tarantula Hawk is hosting a fox-teeth-and-glitter-glue craft workshop. Counselor Salem of Cabin Grasshopper will be guiding you through a nuclear hurricane survival simulation, and Counselor Yvonne of Cabin Silkworm is inviting you to something she calls "The Gamer Hour." Not sure how she might have gotten video game technology to work at Camp Here & There… as you all know, anything more advanced than a wire radio is going to short-circuit due to the high concentration of energies in the area. Hmm. Well, whatever she has planned, it's probably more fun than lakes of blood! Stay inside, kids.

Okay, bye!

(there is a click as the intercom turns off)

(intermission music)

(there is a click and a chime as the intercom turns on)

SYDNEY: Afternoon, camp scoundrels! It's 12:80 once again — oh, how each staggering step in the unstoppable march of old Father Time sends us flying, headlong, from one moment to the next; oh, how each tick of that clock is a reminder of His cosmic promise: to one day take away everything we hold dear. I hope you're excited to get one step closer to your final meal! Iiiiiiit's lunchtime!

Campers, I'm sure you've all been feeling rather troubled these past few hours — particularly those of you who participated in outdoor activities, as you have now most definitely been visited by a certain skylorn doomsayer. Yes, Cabin Magpie Moth's Counselor, Rowan Chow — who is currently in my office sniffling and shaking like a chihuahua in a blizzard… yes, he spent the morning wandering around the campsite babbling frantically about — you know — doom!

"Inside," he mutters, staring out through my window at the vast amalgam of clouds gathering above, dirty yellow like iron-deprived blood. "I have to be inside." Suddenly, he yelps, and yanks his head away from the window as if it had struck him upon the cheek. "It's coming soon! It's coming!" He grabs me by the shoulders and shakes me around; Jedidiah has to come and calm him down. We lay him down in his cot, but he does not sleep… and we can’t get him to stop glancing out the window…

Rowan’s fear mongering has put even the trees in a state of concern. They’ve begun secreting their protective slick and releasing a putrid scent of dismay. I gave Rowan some anti-auguric medication — guaranteed to suppress any and all visions, omens, and harbingers for up to four hours! — and he's beginning to look a bit sleepy; I'll probably keep him here until whatever danger he's foreseeing is passed.

Now, some of you might not know this, but if you attended camp last year, the memory of the event should be etched irreversibly into your gray matter — last year, in a different weather-related incident, a counselor from Cabin Magpie Moth was tragically… *destroyed.* And we've been having trouble finding a replacement, so this year, poor Rowan here is the only counselor at Cabin Magpie Moth. Since he's indisposed, we'll need the other cabins to chip in and care for all the wayward little scamps he's currently leaving unsupervised. Got it? Get it? Great!

Lucille refuses to leave her office no matter how much Rowan screams at her door. She seems quite unconcerned about this doomsday stuff, and while I admire her stoicism, you kids need some leadership in these trying times. So I'm stepping up to the plate! As per camp protocol for circumstances in which the end of all things has been loudly prophesied, we're going to be conducting a ritual to seek the aid and sympathy of the Forest Gods. Hold onto your plastic trays and napkins, because as soon as the clock strikes thirteen I will be leading you all in a great procession through the woods and to the lair of the silicon squirrels, who feed off of our rubbage. As we offer unto them our plasticine libations, we will say, one by one:

"O beasts of steel and wire, who clatter and chatter among the things we leave behind: gifts we bring, of oil and tree! We beg of thee, exercise your boundless mercy; stay the coming flood; let us live to die another day."

And then you'll place your tray gently atop the plinth! We'll need a single-file line for this, my caterpillars.

And after that… we'll all need to stay as far away from the forest as possible, so we're having a camp-wide gathering in the Battle Cabin, where the camp's extensive collection of antique weaponry resides. Don't play too rough! :)

Mmm, today's lunch consists of potato skins, townhouse crackers, cold ketchup and avocado soup, and the leftover salmon from Mila and Juno’s very successful lake-life hecatomb! Maybe, if Rowan can suggest it, our weather will be cloudy with a chance of hollandaise sauce!

Oh, and Juni —

JEDIDIAH: Wait.

SYDNEY: Yes, Jedidiah?

JEDIDIAH: What. Did that mean…

SYDNEY: I'm sure I don't know what you're referring to!

JEDIDIAH: The 'hollandaise' thing?

SYDNEY: Hollandaise is a sauce that you eat salmon with!

JEDIDIAH: That really doesn't help?

SYDNEY: Well, I —

JEDIDIAH: I mean, no part of what you said made sense. Grammatically or otherwise.

SYDNEY (laughing): Alright, alright. If you didn't like the joke, I won't make it again.

JEDIDIAH (amused): It's not that, Sydney, it's… wait, that was meant to be a joke? Wait, I — wait, like a funny ha-ha kind of — like a joke?

SYDNEY: Yeah! It was a joke, like — cloudy with a chance of hollandaise sauce, ooh, like — it's like, combining multiple current events in one clever reference.

JEDIDIAH: I think I will never completely understand you.

SYDNEY (still laughing): Anyway… ummmmm. Where was I- ah! Right. Juniper — the penguins really did expect a delivery today, and we can't let them down just because Rowan needs a nap. You'll need to go down into the caverns and deliver the fish to Maurice yourself. Oh, and tell him Sydney said hi ;)

Also, if any of you kids start experiencing visions of unending terror and catastrophe, please speak with me or Jedidiah about getting anti-auguric medication immediately. Even if the visions are real, you know what they say about ignorance.

Alright, that does it for this meal’s announcements. Enjoy your crunchy townhouse crackers, kids, and please stay safe.

(there is a click as the intercom turns off)

(intermission music)

(there is a click and a chime as the intercom turns on)

SYDNEY: Good news, it's soup! Bad news, it's got mushrooms in it. Good evening, campers! It's 17:03, and the sun has begun to slow in its rotation as it readies to sink beneath the soil for a good night's sleep. Ah, and with that, our harrowing day of doom is coming to an end on an unexpectedly pleasant note! Sort of!

The thing that Rowan saw in his vision from the sky? The lakes of boiling blood and the screaming chunks of flesh? That was soup! Matthew's newest soup, a concoction of his own conception that he's calling: Apocalypse Stew! Chunks of sheep meat and mushroom in a tomato broth — a highland-dweller's heaven, although it is with much sadness and regret that I report that several friends of decay were added to the pot. I don't like seeing the mushrooms drown in the big wet sizzle.

Ahem! WELL! Other than for the mushrooms who bravely laid down their lives to protect our freedoms, this comes as a relief to the whole forest, wouldn't you say? And Matthew would like to issue every camper and counselor a heartfelt apology. He truly didn't mean to give poor Rowan visions of viscera and bubbling blood lakes. Rowan, for his part, has accepted the apology, although he's still in the process of coming down off his nine-hour panic attack. Poor guy. He's so sick of the sky, and who can blame him? That big old arm up there, wrapping us all in a distant hug that somehow makes us feel lonelier… such a menace, is the sky. Good luck escaping her, Rowan, old pal!

Ah, and Juniper's first and most lonesome delivery went well! All of the salmon successfully changed hands (or flippers?), so we've avoided the wrath of the Macaroni clan for this week, at least. No injuries sustained on Juniper's behalf, aside from a few dartlike feathers lodged in his throat. But Jedidiah's going to get to work extracting those as soon as he’s done eating dinner. Juniper can wait. He's got a long neck. He'll be fine.

Everyone say, "Thank you, Juniper!" :)

Aaand to all the campers who fashioned a wreath made of spears for me from the Battle Cabin, thank you, from the bottom of my heart. I'm so touched! Keep being the best.

Tonight's dinner, as previously mentioned, is soup! Vegans get jello. Various activities lie in store for you after dinner, but my favorite amongst them has to be the photographing-glowing-orbs-in-the-woods-at-night contest. The camper who snaps the clearest polaroid wins a sour gummy worm from my secret candy drawer!

Oh, and, ah, one last thing: I am pretty sure that some of my stuff went missing from the nurse’s building last night. *Personal* stuff. My hairbrush, this pen I always chew on… listen, I don’t want to point fingers, but *Joshua,* you *creep,* if you want to sniff my personal effects, you know you can just ask, right? As it stands, I won’t enact revenge upon you if you just bring it back by tomorrow, alright? I need the hairbrush for my hair.

And, huff, that's the last of my announcements for today. Make sure to give Matthew a smile and let him know you appreciate his stew — he's sensitive. And with that, my little pill bugs, I bid you goodnight. Sleep deeply, but don't get lost! You'll be hearing from me again tomorrow.

(there is a click as the intercom turns off)

(intermission music)

(tape recorder clicks on)

(the sound of a clock is heard ticking in the background)

SYDNEY: Evening, ghost recorder. It's 25:25 Pm again. Time for the Sydney Feelings Hour. Woooo.

(he does a slow, sarcastic clap)

(sigh) I don't like to let the kids know when I'm scared or tired or upset, but since it's just between the two of us, I'll say that honestly… today was a bit rough. Having Rowan weeping on my shoulder was, mm, I mean, I deal with that stuff all the time, crying and consoling and healing. It's my job. But. But… it just takes its toll, is all. Today was draining.

(huff) And Jedidiah was no help at all! He's a good doctor and all, but his bedside manner is atrocious, and since most of today's distress was emotional rather than physical… he could've stepped up. Like, he didn't seem worried about Rowan or the doom-prophecy in the slightest, which is good, I guess, but he could have at least acknowledged that it was scary to other people. Especially the kids! Like, they're kids. Being a nurse for kids is not all putting alcohol on scrapes and pulling out worms, right, it's being a source of comfort and emotional support. The least he could do is ask if they need a glass of water or something.

Maybe I'm being too hard on him. He's just not good at the feelings stuff, so it all falls to me, and I'm not just an infinite wellspring of emotional support, right?

Agh. I dunno. Jeddie does a lot for me, and for the camp. I'm not trying to act ungrateful. These are all… my own problems.

Speaking of my problems…

I saw the elephant man again. Saw… am seeing. I'm seeing him. He's everywhere, outside my window, behind a cabin on my way to the cafeteria, in the *bathroom.* It's driving me up a wall. I'm hesitant to bring it up to Jeddie again. I've already troubled him enough. But I'm starting to get really worried. Don't share this with anyone, but… (whispering) back in highschool and college, I had a lot of hallucinations. I was on antipsychotics and everything. A few years ago, they just… I stopped having them. I figured I just maybe grew out of it, or got out of the manic stress that caused them, something like that. But I– am I having a break again?

Mm. Can't be that. This is different. When I look back on my hallucinations they're… colder, I guess; fuzzier than him, just a bit, no matter how real they felt in the moment. This guy cast a real shadow, and he ate my worms! And Marisol saw him! I know she wasn't lying about that, not Marisol of all people. Jeddie's just a cynic. Distant, apathetic, and cynical.

Aagh. Sorry. I shouldn't talk about him like that. He's right here, after all. Asleep, obviously; I pestered him into hitting the hay early so that we wouldn't have a repeat of yesterday. But still. My words might seep into his dreams…

Speaking of dreams, Jedidiah had Matthew make something for me: this special tea. Jeddie said his mom used to make it for him when he couldn't sleep, and it totally wiped out his dreams. Maybe I won't have any nightmares tonight. Worth a shot, right?

Well, I'm gonna drink up and head to bed, I suppose. Hoping against hope that this elephant guy doesn't show up again. On the bright side, I know Lucille will protect me! (snicker) It'd take more to stop her than some freaky forest carnie!

Goodnight, recorder. I'll be back to feed you more of my thoughts tomorrow. Have sweet recorder dreams, and let's hope I have none.

(ending music)

*Today’s episode was written by Blue Mayfield and Nicholas Belov. The part of Sydney Sargent was played by Blue Mayfield. The part of Jedidiah was played by Nicholas Belov. Camp Here & There is the sole intellectual property of its production company, Mayfield & Belov. All music composed by Will Wood, and produced by Jonathon Maisto. Sound editing by Cut by Frank and Beetlesprite. Special thanks to our Patrons Aurelie Galibois, Matty, Luna Arson, Adamills, and Bot\_lol.*

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*Thank you for listening to Camp Here & There! And remember: You have no idea what’s coming.*