Camp Juniper hurried to the next portage. We didn’t stop to take pictures or admire the scenery; we just wanted to get the heck out of dodge and leave the ghost in peace. When we finally reached Bug Paradise, which was the nickname I gave this portage (you’ll soon learn why), we leaped out of our canoes and collapsed onto the ground, all ten of us. All ten of us were totally bewildered and totally out of breath.
I remember, Aunt Lydia, who had her hand to her chest, sobbed, “What was that?! I’ve never heard something like that before!”
“Nor have I!” Uncle Macon agreed. “That scared the biceps out of me! I’m no longer strong! Ah!” Reaching for his head, he grabbed it. “The agony! The shame!”
“I think I now know what Ranger Kate and Ranger Amelia meant by the ‘Ghost of Ontario!’” Aunt Jessie yelped.
“I told you he was real!” I shouted, and I glanced at my family. “But did you believe me? No!”
“Well, whatever the case,” breathlessly spoke Dad, “we’re off Red Squirrel Lake now. We’ll be much safer on Lake Temagami.”
“Why do I have a feeling that’s not true?” I asked.
Mom glanced at me and glared.
“Don’t look at me like that, Mom!” I continued. “You saw him yourself! There is a ghost that haunts this provincial park! You heard him! ‘GET OFF MY TURF!!’” Peering back behind me, I saw that the fog had started to lift from Red Squirrel Lake, and very faintly, from the sky, appeared the rays of the sun. The rays actually revealed another clue.
Before starting the devastating portage, we found something quite interesting, and the rays told us where it was. They shone over some rocks, and faintly, I saw a speck of yellow buried in between them. “What’s that?” I asked. At first, I guessed it was litter. For me being me, I wanted to clean it up. I don’t like litter. While the rest of Camp Juniper caught their breaths, I got up and tiptoed towards the rocks.
Behind me, Mom said, “Be careful, Kylie!”
The closer I came to the yellow speck, the more excited I grew. Now, I don’t know why I felt so excited all of a sudden. Wasn’t I supposed to be scared? I mean, technically we were still on Red Squirrel Lake. By the water, the bugs weren’t terrible, but once we got in the forest, oh God. Just wait. Let me get this part finished with first.
Finally, I reached the cluster of rocks, and I picked up my feet, climbing onto one. This rock was right on the waterline. The others were in the shallow water. I bent my knees and placed my hands on my knees, peering into the water where I saw the speck. Guess what I discovered? Come on, guess. It was a beat up, yellow dry bag. Yeah, you heard me right! It was a dry bag! I remember, this dry bag had numerous tears in it. It still had its strap and buckle, which were black, but they weren’t in really good shape.
I thought this was quite the find. What was this dry bag? Who had lost it? This just got even more mysterious. Carefully, I leaned down, and both my chewed-up mosquito hands gripped it. Carefully, I pulled the bag out of the water and held it in front of my face. Water dripped from it and created a small rain shower. I noticed that the bag actually still had stuff in it. What stuff, though?
My curiosity booted up again. Once most of the water finished dripping, I stepped off the rock and headed back towards my family, continuing to examine the bag.
“What did you find, Kylie Wylie?” Uncle Macon asked me when I approached them.
I found myself lost for words. Finally catching them, I replied in a small voice, “It’s a dry bag.”
“Hm?” Camp Juniper asked. They blinked and stood up. All pairs of eyes landed on the mysterious dry bag.
I turned it over, and I found something else quite mysterious on it. There was a sewing design on the front. The design was a word. The word “Kronin,” spelled with a K. “There’s something sewed on the front of it.” I explained to my family. “‘Kronin’”
“Kronin?” asked Uncle Bart.
I nodded. “Yes. Kronin spelled with a K.”
“Is it a name?” Aunt Lydia wanted to know. She had finally calmed down.
“Is there still stuff inside?” asked Daddy. “It looks like there may be.”
“There is,” I said. “Let’s see what.” Here, I built up the guts to open the dry bag. If it was another trap that the Ghost of Ontario set for us, then I was ready. I took a deep breath, and once ready, I very carefully opened the bag.
My family and I’s mouths fell open.
The first thing I pulled out from the bag was a toy. That’s right, a toy, and it was made out of wood. “Whoa.” I said, and I brought it to my face. “It’s a toy. A wooden toy.” What was even more amazing was that the toy was a small, wooden, Native American doll.
“How remarkable,” said Dad, “and quite mysterious, as well.” Here, he went all smart and curious. He closed his eyes and gripped his elbow, bringing his hand to his chin. “I’ve never seen a doll like this before,” he continued. “Who do you think it belonged to?”
I didn’t know how to answer that question, so I just replied, “I don’t know, Dad. I just don’t know.” And I didn’t.
“This place just gets more and more mysterious.” Dad spoke next. “First, it was the disappearance of Ranger Kate’s child. Then it was the Ghost of Ontario, and finally, you said you met a boy hermit.”
My grouchy mood immediately returned. I put the doll back in the dry bag and buckled it up. “Which I did!”
“Oh stop it, Kylie,” said Mom. “If you really saw a boy, then how come he didn’t show himself the way the Ghost of Ontario did?”
“Because he’s super shy!” Here, I turned to Uncle Bart. “Right, Uncle Bart? You saw him too!”
Uncle Bart didn’t answer. He just lowered his head.
I gasped. No! My Uncle Bart couldn’t be turning against me as well! He was my Uncle Bart! He saw Ihaan! Feeling a lump in my throat, I lifted my hands and added with, “We’ve got to find him! He’s hurt! He’s in trouble!” If things couldn’t get any stranger, I felt a twist in my tummy. Something told me that yes, Ihaan did need my help. “I hate this!” I continued. “Please, Uncle Bart! You promised we’d search for him together! Tell them that you did see him!”
Uncle Bart remained quiet for a few more moments. This was totally surprising, but he did turn on me. Him! My Uncle Bart! He cleared his throat and said, “I’m sorry, Kylie Wylie, but,” He closed his eyes and looked away, “your mother does have a really good point.”
I gasped. I couldn’t believe it. My entire family turned against me! They just made my week even worse. I glanced at each member and hoped for a look of encouragement, but all of them crossed their arms and lowered their heads. None of them spoke to me. I couldn’t hold them back anymore. This was too awful. Tears fountained down my cheeks, and I shouted, “It’s not fair!” at my family. Hugging the mysterious dry bag to my chest, I shoved by my parents, aunts, and uncles and hurried towards the portage. Climbing up a small hill, I turned to them once again and added, “Why can’t you just believe me?” Sobbing, I buried my face in the dry bag and sprinted in the forest, disappearing inside. I buried my face right in the word “Kronin,” whatever it was.
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