Camp Alien by Pamela F. Service Read Free Book Online

special instructions. She still scorned the whole idea, but I thought her reptilian glare seemed less fierce than usual. A hint of excitement trying to break through?
    The cast and the other performers at thenight’s campfire were excused early from the dining hall. We rushed back to our cabins to put on costumes and then headed down to the fire circle. I stuck my Gnairt gizmo in the pocket of the old bathrobe I was wearing as my king costume. I had to make sure that everyone would think Vraj was a laser projection.
    Nervously we checked the props: the thrones for the king and queen, the cardboard rock to tie Andromeda to, the yardstick swords, and of course, the Gorgon’s head. Jessy and Bessy had built it from papier-mâché with rubber snakes stuck into it so they wriggled and bobbed.
    As the first campers trooped toward the fire circle, we hid behind the bushes. On the excuse of checking my equipment, I slipped into another clump of bushes where Vraj was hiding.
    â€œNervous?” I whispered.
    â€œOf course not!” Her voice seemed higher than usual.
    â€œAll great actors get nervous, you know. This could start a grand career for you.”
    She snorted. “I am going to be … I
am
in the Galactic Patrol.”
    â€œWell, everyone needs a hobby. Besides, if you have talent, it’d be wrong to deprive the universe of it.”
    â€œYou really think I could have talent?”
    â€œSure. You’ll knock ‘em dead. Eh … that’s just an expression.”
    She grinned, showing more teeth than any Hollywood star. “Right.”
    I joined the other cast members crouching and waiting. Once all the campers and counselors were seated, the campfire was lit, and everyone sang the Camp Takhamasak song. Then three girls sang songs by their favorite rock group. They did
not
have a future in music. Next came a boy who juggled pinecones and tin cups. Judging by audience sounds, he only dropped things twice.
    Then it was us. My stomach tightened. Opal looked like she was going to be sick.
    â€œYou’ll do fine,” I whispered. “If actors don’t get stage fright, the show wouldn’t haveany zip.” At the moment, it looked like Opal wanted to zip right out of there. I kept a grip on her arm and whistled for Ramon and Carlos to make their entrances.
    Dressed as soldiers, they stepped from the bushes. Their armor was cheesy-looking aluminum foil stuff, but their stick and cardboard spears looked OK. Scott, crouching beside me, beat dramatically on a drum. Several kids in the audience jeered at the soldiers, but counselors hushed them.
    I practically had to push Opal out onto the stage. She began her speech about constellations in a really tiny voice. Someone in the audience yelled, “louder!” That must have made her mad because she started belting out her lines. Scott banged his drum again. Opal scurried back and threw on her wig and dress. Then she and I strode out as King Cepheus and Queen Cassiopeia.
    We sat on our thrones, and, to more drum banging, Melanie, in the role of Andromeda, skipped out wearing a floaty nightgown thing.She was accompanied by Bessy and Jessy, playing servants. For no reason I can figure out, those two launched into a cheerleader routine, waving pine branches and flipping up their little skirts. Through this ridiculous routine, Opal and I gushed about how beautiful our daughter was. I could have gagged. Melanie must have helped write those lines.
    Finally Opal rose and yelled, “Andromeda is even more beautiful than the sea nymphs, Neptune’s daughters!”
    That’s when Scott, behind the bushes, bashed the garbage can to sound like thunder. The last thwack was so hard I heard the can topple and bounce noisily down the hill. Scott couldn’t stop it because he was busy making his entrance. He was the god Neptune, in a green sheet with shredded bits of garbage bag trailing off him to look like seaweed.
    It was a