~~~

Annie walked towards the Elston Bridge. 

As she did so, she saw an old dog near Burl's Gas Station.

'Hello, boy! Sorry, girl! How far is it to Camp Crystal Lake? That far, huh'. 

She grabbed the heavy rucksack. 

And went across the road towards the 1950's-era Diner.

~~~

~~~

Jose Mancino, 22, the Spanish cook, had short black hair, blue eyes, and wore a blue colored cook's T-shirt, and white colored apron. Beth Harrow, 54, was the owner. She had greying red hair, hazel eyes, and wore a green colored Manager's dress. She looked at the regulars; she was eager not to talk to newcomers unless they spoked nice about the town itself. On the radio, Hal James, 33, said: 'Good morning, Crystal Lake. Today's Friday the 13th. A bad day for black cats under silvery ladders. Seven year's bad luck if you shatter glass. And if you go camping, ignore the haunted campgrounds, if you want to go that is...'. Annie ignored the radio announcer. She smiled at the group of people. Truck drivers came to New Jersey for hamburgers, fries, and coffee. And young people were too immersed in themselves to care about their own future. 

'Excuse me, but can anyone tell me how far it is to Camp Crystal Lake? Name's Annie'.

'About ten miles, Enos', Beth said. 

'About that', Enos said. 

'Why don't you take the girl about half-way'.

'Okay, Annie. Let's go!', Enos, 61, said.

'Thanks', Annie smiled.

Enos wore a green colored hat on his head. 

His blue eyes gleamed with experience of camps.

And the horror stories about Crystal Lake. 

Crazy Ralph, 62, the town loon, appeared. 

'You're going to Camp Blood, aren't you. You won't be back alive. It's got a death curse'.

'Ah, shut up, Ralph. Go away!', Enos yelled. 

Crazy Ralph rode his 1930's-era bicycle towards Camp Crystal Lake. 

Annie shivered, as she got into the truck.

~~~

The sign read: Elston Gas Supplies, New Jersey 555-653

'How long have you been a truck driver, Enos?', Annie asked. 

'About forty years. First couple of years was tough because of World War growing up. And the Korean War in the early 1950's. Crystal Lake wasn't on the radar of "America's Top 100 Best Towns to live in". But some families are good, hard-working people.  Mom was a housemother...and lived for her children. Dad was in the Office making $50,000 a year, plus tax. And a mortgage. And a $20,000 house in New Jersey. And I decided the Office wasn't for me. Too demanding. Too stressful. Plus, Dad had a heart-attack at forty-five. And died. Mom died not long afterwards from "emotional grief". I paid $3,500 for a truck, got a license, and hit the road. Are the girls as pretty as you?', Enos asked. 

'I'm not sure', Annie answered. 

'Well, the cemetery is close by'.

'The cemetery', Annie shivered. 

'Yeah, but the camp is not too far away'.

'What's the matter?', asked Annie. 

'Leave now', Enos answered. 

'Why? You're sounding like Old Ralph'.

'That boy who drowned in 1957, Jason Voorhees, was the first; the two camp counsellors, Barry and Claudette, a year later in 1958; the arson attack in 1959; the water was poisoned in 1960. It's cursed'.

'I don't believe in ghosts'. 

'You're like my three nieces. Head full o' rocks...Dumb kids!'.

'At least I know what I'm scared of. The woods', Annie said. 

'And'.

'And I'm looking after fifty inner-city campers. Steve Christy is paying us $5,000 for one week'. 

'He's building that camp for $25,000', Enos said. 

'I do know', Annie said.

'Here you go, Annie. Good luck!'.

'Thanks for the lift, Enos. Goodbye!'.

'Goodbye, Annie'.

And he closed the passenger-side door...and drove back to town.

~~~

~~~

The sign read: MORAVIAN CEMETERY, HOPE, NJ

Annie trudged up the empty road. 

As she did so, a green colored Jeep sped like a NASCAR driver. 

The driver stopped...and Annie got in the passenger-side seat. 

'Hi. I'm Annie. Camp Crystal Lake'. 

She had had ignored the warning of Old Crazy Ralph. 

She was doomed, after all.

~~~

There was a strange matter of Crystal Lake behavior. 

Outsiders didn't get it. 

New Jersey wasn't rural, like Austin, Texas. 

No armadillos were there; no farmhouses which was full of unsolved murders from fifty or more years' ago. New Jersey was a city in which the crime rate was 3%. Or less. It wasn't like Chicago in the 1920's, and 1930's. No gangsters like Al Capone. And New York, (the city that never sleeps), was full of sin, sex, and death. But Annie didn't think that her life was in danger. Becky Olson, her best friend, was in Seattle now and worked as a Flight Attendant for America Air. The driver drove past the camp's sign. 'Hey, wasn't that the sign to Camp Crystal Lake back there?', Annie asked. The driver drove fast. Fear over-rode her senses. Grabbing her suitcase, she took the seatbelt off. And jumped onto the harsh gravelly road. Pain shot through her ripped flares. Hobbling, Annie ran to the deep woods. The killer stopped, grabbed the wicked hunting knife, (the same one that killed Barry and Claudette in 1958), and stalked her prey. Fear turned to terror; terror turned to horror. 

And, in the middle of the deep woods was an old oak tree.

'No. Please, no!', stammered Annie. 

The knife came towards her. 

And the darkness was all but consuming. 

It was Friday, June 13, 1979.

And the death curse of Camp Crystal Lake returned.

~~~

The bluegrass music was on the radio. 

Jack Burrell, 19, was in a good mood. 

He would be spending time with his girlfriend, Marcie Stanley, 18. With them was Ned Rubenstein, 19, a Jewish prankster. 'I hope there's Brenda Franklin at Camp Crystal Lake. She's a foxy girl'. Jack and Marcie were kissing---and fooling around. 'Maybe she's with Steve Christy; she's a volunteer, you know', Marcie said. Ned grinned. 'Is sex all you two cares about?', he asked. 'Yes', the two campers grinned. 'A long time ago, it was called "Camp Blood"', Ned said. Up ahead was a Native American totem pole. And a huge, cheaply made sign. The words read: WELCOME TO CAMP CRYSTAL LAKE, EST. 1935.

Ned drove to the cabins.

A man, Steve Christy, 27, held onto an axe. 

'Well, can you all help me?'.

'Sure', Jack answered. 

'I didn't think we'd spend our time working straight away', Ned groused. 

'Well, it's going to be fun this summer', Marcie said. 

Steve used an axe to chop the tree. 

Once it fell, the job was finished. 

'Alice!', Steve yelled.

A young woman appeared. 

Her red hair was cut short, not long. 

Her blue eyes flickered with rural excitement. 

'Steve, all of the cabins are clean'. 

'Where's Brenda? And Bill?', Steve asked.

'Brenda's at the Archery range, Bill's panting. And Annie, the cook, hasn't arrived yet'.

'I want Brenda to work in the kitchen to cook. Bill can manage the camp when I leave'. 

'What's the hurry, Steve?', asked Alice.

'Nothing for you to be worried about, Alice', Steve dismissively told his ex-girlfriend. 

'Steve'. 

'Yes, Alice'. 

'It's Friday the 13th'.

'I don't believe in bad luck, Alice', Steve sighed. 

'Ah, where's the cabins, Alice?', asked Jack.

'Oh, sorry. Follow me, please', answered Alice. 

And the three teenage campers did as they were told by Alice Hardy, the Assistant Camp Crystal Lake Manager. 

~~~

Page 5.