~~~
Steve Christy was nervous.
Alice was banging away with a brown colored, cheaply made hammer.
He saw her amateur drawings.
'You draw well'.
'I wish I had more time', Alice said.
Steve saw the intimate one of himself, and Alice in bed.
'Did we make love like that, Alice?', Steve asked.
'We did last night, Steve', answered Alice.
'You don't like it here'.
'It's just some personal matters with my parents. They hate California; they are retired in Tampa, Florida. They think Camp Crystal Lake is cursed'.
'That's impossible', Steve suggested.
'Steve. People are scared of the past. The Boston Strangler, The Zodiac Killer, Charles Manson and 'The Family'. Death is around the corner. You can't be a dreamer', Alice said.
'I'm not a dreamer. Look, please stay for a week. If, by next week you hate Camp Crystal Lake, I'll pay for a bus ticket home to California', Steve said.
'Fine, Steve', Alice said.
'Thanks, Alice', Steve kissed her.
But Alice was already dating Bill Frederickson, 21, the painter and decorator.
And the other Assistant Camp Crystal Lake Manager.
~~~
~~~
The mid-morning sun glowed.
Camp Crystal Lake was hot.
The killer watched Steve Christy from the other part of the dark woods.
A hunter's knife was in the right hand.
And nightfall was a long way away.
~~~
'I should be back by four o'clock', Steve said.
'See you soon', Alice said.
'Goodbye', Steve smiled.
He drove the Jeep away from Camp Crystal Lake...and headed towards town.
The other Jeep was stolen.
~~~
While the campers got to know the eerie woodlands, Alice saw Bill.
Bill wasn't as nervous as Steve was.
Steve became irrational at times of sex.
Or he was miffed that something was wrong at Camp Crystal Lake itself.
'What do you mean, Alice? It's not as if some new vibe is going down, you dig me. Besides, a lot of teenagers are pot heads, and free. Besides, I am the Manager of Crystal Lake, remember'.
'But, Steve, you're not seventeen, or eighteen; you're twenty-seven'.
Steve didn't believe in ghosts, bad karma, the supernatural, the paranormal, or the occult.
Young people were too engrossed in séances.
Or Ouija Boards.
Alice shivered at that news.
Bill smiled at her.
'The paint is too thin', he told Alice.
'Steve told me the paint is in the warehouse. It's small, though for campers', Alice said.
'I'll check it out. Hey, Annie didn't turn up', Bill told her.
'I don't know what to do, Bill. Annie was supposed to be a great cook. What's for dinner?'.
'Hamburgers, fries, steaks, and beer', Bill smiled.
'Great! Now, Brenda and I will be cooking', Alice said.
'I can cook sausages too', Bill mentioned.
'Fine by me', Alice told her new boyfriend.
'There's supposed to be a fierce storm tonight', Bill told her.
'I'll tell Jack, Marcie, and Ned'.
'Do you think we'll last all summer, Alice?', asked Bill.
'I don't think we'd last all week', Alice stated.
And, as she kissed Bill, the sense of being watched from the cold woods, caused Alice to look around.
But no one was there.
~~~
~~~
Ned saw Brenda hauling the Archery equipment to the woods.
He smiled at her.
He wore the same red and white colored T-shirt, and blue shorts.
He fired an arrow.
It missed Brenda by seconds.
'Ned! I don't believe you'.
'You're pretty when you're scared, sweetheart', Ned said in his best Humphrey Bogart voice.
Brenda probably thought Ned would do a line from 'Casablanca'.
But Ned wasn't done with, yet.
He jumped in the warm, summer heat towards the eerie lake.
Brenda laughed.
But she knew that Camp Crystal Lake a reputation for mystery...and death.
Brenda hoped she would teach Ned a lesson in manners.
~~~
Ned flailed in the cold lake.
'Help me! Help me!'.
Jack ran towards the pier.
He got in the water.
It was freezing.
Ned was taken to the pier.
Jack performed CPR on Ned.
Ned expelled water out of his lungs.
He kissed Brenda.
'Oh, Ned!', exclaimed Brenda.
The prank failed.
Ned felt rather foolish.
Afterwards, Ned didn't joke around.
~~~
The campers opened the door.
The words: GENERATOR ROOM
Jack flicked on the light, then the machine.
'It's looks like the one back in Maine at my house', Bill mentioned.
'He acts so formal', Ned joked.
'Cut that out, Ned', Marcie savaged.
'Fine!', Ned sighed.
He was thinking everyone wasn't into comedy.
He looked at the swirling eddies of the glistening lake.
After lunch, the campers went their own ways.
Ned watched the cabins.
By two o'clock PM, a shadow of a figure appeared.
'Hello. Can I help you?', he asked.
He wasn't announcing to the World that a weird man, or woman, would dare come to Camp Crystal Lake. Sheriff Earl Tierney, or Officer Jon Dorf, would talk to the campers, when Steve Christy was away. And arrest trespassers. Money or no money, Ned was acting like his Old Man, and no one wanted to make him welcome.
Ned stepped on the brown steps.
And, as he went inside, the cabin was dark.
No light illuminated his face.
Then, to his horror, the hunting knife slashed across his throat.
And the abyss was deep.
~~~
The storm was coming.
'Where's Ned?', asked Marcie.
'I don't know. Fooling around, maybe', Jack answered.
'How do you know?'.
'I don't', Jack kissed Marcie.
'I hate storms. As a girl, Mom and Dad sent me to bed, and told me not to see the raging thunder outside my bedroom window, because it would start fires; it would shatter the loud silence. And the rain would wash away into little rivers', Marcie said.
'It's only a dream. Hey, this isn't a dream. It's going to storm like a son of a gun tonight', Jack commented.
And they ran towards cabin 3.
~~~
~~~
Two hours' before; midday at Camp Crystal Lake
~~~
Steve Christy was in town.
Alice swept the deep dust from cabin 3.
She saw a snake.
'Bill!'.
She yelled as Bill, Jack, Ned, Marcie, and Brenda, ran into the small, confined, cabin.
'What?', asked Bill.
'There's a snake. Can you get rid of it, please?'.
'Sure', answered Bill.
He grabbed an old machete...and got rid of it.
'At least we know what's for dinner', said Marcie.
'Marcie! Marcie! Marcie!', Alice smirked.
Alice's favorite shows on TV was 'The Brady Bunch', or 'M*A*S*H'.
She had a copy of Richard Hooker's 1968 war comedy-drama book at home.
And seen the 1970 movie, as well.
Once the animal was buried in the deep woods, Officer Jon Dorf arrived at Camp Crystal Lake. He wore a cheap police helmet, grey sunglasses, and a uniform. He was old-school; he wasn't like today's youths. They smoked dope, got high, and attended rock concerts like Woodstock, a decade or so ago. Dorf, 33, grew up in the late 1950's, and mid-1960's. Once the conservative political era under General, (then President), Dwight Delano Eisenhower ended, 'The Swinging Sixties', and 'The British Invasion', of The Beatles, (and other UK bands like The Rolling Stones), spread into every boy and girl's consciousness. Of course, 'Easy Rider', the American 'bikie movie', was scandalous; American social values were drowning in excess. Dorf had had enough. By 1971, Dorf decided to enforce the law at Crystal Lake. 'Who are you all?', Officer Dorf asked.
'Can we help you, Officer?', Brenda said.
Before he was allowed to speak, Ned came blundering towards them wearing a Native American headdress, and full costume.
'Oh, shit!', Ned swore.
'I'm looking for someone. Crazy Ralph, the town loony', Officer Dorf explained.
'There's no one that's crazy at Camp Crystal Lake, Officer', Ned laughed.
'Cut it out, Tonto!', yelled Officer Dorf.
'I'm dumb as they come', admitted Ned.
~~~
Ned shut up, after being rebuked.
'Is he dangerous?', Alice asked.
'Every time he gets the religious call, I have to take him back to the jail cells. I-'.
The radio blared: 'Officer Dorf. Sheriff Tierney wants you to oversee several punks who attacked teenagers at a commune. Over'.
'I'm at Camp Crystal Lake. I'll be there soon. Over'.
'Hey, nice bike!', Jack said.
'What drugs are you on, boy? Hash, weed, magic mushrooms to get high on? The spaceship of doom, you dig me', Officer Dorf ranted on. 'Drugs; I don't do drugs, Officer. Drugs are bad', Jack lied.
'I don't want to come back here, everyone. Keep your noses clean, you dig me. I'll arrest you all if you step out of line. I won't have any weirdness out here at the cursed Camp Crystal Lake'. He got his gloves on...and rode away. Dust swirled around like in the Arizona desert; the °86F summer heat was scorching...adding more misery in Camp Crystal Lake.
~~~
Page 6.
