~~~

Alice hated chores. 

She sipped coffee. 

She was a drinker since she was fourteen, when she was at the Cunningham Cafe with her parents during each summer as a girl. Camp Management was a course in camping ran by Steve Christy, and his business partners Paul Holt, and his girlfriend, Ginny Field. That was back in 1972, and 1973; Alice did the course in June of 1975, as a teenager. Suddenly, the larder door opened. And Crazy Ralph appeared; Ralph wasn't a drugged-out youth; Crazy Ralph followed the Holy Bible's talk of sin, and punishment for the wicked. He wore a brown colored vest over a cheap, buttoned, white shirt, brown trousers, a grey belt, black socks, and grey shoes on his feet. A wedding ring on his right, middle hand, and he ranted: 'I'm the Messenger of God. You're doomed if you stay at Camp Crystal Lake. Doomed! Go! Go! It's got a death curse!'.

'Who are you?', Alice asked him. 

Ned and Marcie saw him. 

'Get away, man', Ned said. 

Crazy Ralph opened the cabin door. 

He got on the path...and turned around. 

'You're all doomed!'.

Alice sighed. 

'Great! That's all I need to hear'.

And she closed the cabin door. 

~~~

By 4:30 PM, the storm ravaged Camp Crystal Lake. 

For a long time, old timers told horror stories of the Voorhees family were forgotten. No one forgave the Christy family over the alleged drowning of Jason Voorhees, back in 1957; the murders of Barry and Claudette back in 1958, (a year later), caused Camp Crystal Lake to close, but not until a fire happened in 1959, and the water was poisoned. 'Steve Christy spent $25,000 on that camp, and for what', Enos, the truck driver, told Annie. 

And the cycle of death stirred deep-set memories of dread. 

~~~

By 5:00 PM, the campers had dinner. 

The storm became threatening. 

Steve Christy was still in town. 

He was late. 

And, for Alice, a portent of horror chilled her blood.

~~~

~~~

Steve Christy spent his day with Edward Lake, 55, his lawyer.

'You don't seem to think that Camp Crystal Lake is viable', he told Edward. 

'Camp Crystal Lake is a rural town. Small, you know, Steve. In the deep woods. It's not New York, or Chicago, or Mississippi. Or in Alabama, or Austin, Texas. The Voorhees boy, Jason, drowned in 1957. He was eleven. Your parents went broke because of the death. You can't drag up old ghosts of the pasts; you know it's a legal minefield; you are not holding onto something which will damage you, Steve, financially; you are afraid of the future', Edward explained. 

'Ghosts aren't real, Edward', Steve stiffly told him. 

'People like Crazy Ralph are religious nuts, Steve. Some people are into The Holy Bible from a literal point of view. Crystal Lake will not punish Catholics...or are into the wrath of God. It's not about mass death, or corruption of youths. Or bad karma. Or Republicans, and Democrats, getting "bonus points". Crystal Lake is different, Steve. We have laws. We have crimes; we have sinners. We don't want more trouble, already. Teenagers do drugs, have sex, and are on the Pill. It's legal, Steve. Now, if you're afraid of such legal matters, bad cigarettes, and beer. This is America; this is the United States of America. People are not taking things on face-value. Families are growing up in a conservativeness before, after World War II. We watch 'Leave it to Beaver', and it's all happy families, Steve. I won't let Robert Oliver Symes, the first Crystal Lake Mayor at City Hall, to berate me over law. No. He died in 1958, when Barry and Claudette, died in your barn, Steve. And people adjusted their views of Crystal Lake, as if we are strange. But, to me, I prefer Archie Bunker, and Ma and Pop Kettle, and people are forgetting the past. Of course, the nineteen sixties were very sinful. Mom told me not to watch 'I dream of Jeannie', but what was I going to do? I wasn't allowed to see 'Bewitched', if you believe that. Crystal Lake isn't backward, Steve. We have values. Some of the campers are fooling around; some are stupid; some are not around because of their wickedness. Some are married out of wedlock. America is sick. And now you have Alice Hardy at Camp Crystal Lake'.

'She's fine, Edward', Steve said. 

'Is she?'.

'Yes', Steve sighed.

Edward looked at the map of Crystal Lake. 

'Let's talk about the future, Steve', Edward said.

And Steve poured himself a mug of warm coffee.

~~~

Alice was in the kitchen. 

'Where's Ned?', asked Alice. 

'I don't know', Brenda answered. 

'I thought he was with you', Alice said. 

'After today, I don't know', Brenda admitted. 

'What do you mean by that?', Alice wanted to know. 

'He tries too hard to impress me', Brenda sighed. 

'Ned probably left the camp', Alice said. 

'He didn't tell me. Or you', Brenda told her. 

'Maybe he left in a hurry', Alice said.

'I doubt that', Brenda sighed. 

They cleaned up, and the campers ate dinner.

~~~

Nightfall came to Camp Crystal Lake. 

The storm raged. 

By 7:00 PM, the locals ate, drank beer, watched TV, and the normal parts of town went onwards until it became dark. 

When Sheriff Tierney was on patrol, the killer stalked the haunted campgrounds of Crystal Lake.

~~~

Camp Crystal Lake was cold in the hot summer in New Jersey. 

Over time, the Native American Indians called it 'The Lake of Sorrow', by Chief Moosehead. 

From 1930 to 1935, the campers were at Camp Tomahawk. 

Wars came and went. 

Steve Christy was someone who ignored the past. 

No bogeymen, no psychic killers, no bad karma, no spiritualists, came to disturb his thoughts about the ancient tales of campfire terror would change his mind over re-opening Camp Crystal Lake. The sign read: THE CRYSTAL LAKE DINER, EST. 1937. Sandy Moore, 65, the glasses wearing waitress, smiled at him. 

'More coffee with your hamburger, Steve, and cherry pie?'.

'No, Sandy. I got teenagers in the woods, and they innocent because of the camp's atmosphere'. 

'Be careful of the ferocious storm, Steve'.

'I will, Sandy. How much do I owe you?'.

'Two and a quarter for the mug of coffee. $7.98 for the hamburger, and pie', Sandy said.

'Here's $20.00, Sandy. There's three dollars for the coffee, and the tip for the rest, for dinner. I got to go to see the campers. But before I do, I need to go to the Restroom'. Steve got up from the grey colored seat...and went to the Men's Restroom. By 7:10 PM, the heavy rain battered New Jersey. Steve flushed the toilet. He washed his hands on a piece of white towel that was on a silvery colored rack on the pastel walls.

He glanced around.

The feeling of being watched became disconcerting.

'Be careful, Steve', Sandy said.

'Goodbye, Sandy'.

'Goodbye, Steve', she waved her small, right hand. 

'Goodbye, Sandy. Have a good night', Steve smiled. 

'Goodnight, Steve', Sandy waved for the last time.

Outside, the New Jersey weather dropped to °55F.

And the long night at Camp Blood had had begun.

~~~

 

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