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feeling of abandoning his friend overwhelmed Jeff. All he could think was, he couldn’t let them do this. He had to stop them from taking Jimmy away. They shouldn’t be putting him on that ambulance boat and leaving. He and Jimmy were best friends.
    They were B.F.F.
    He should stay with him so Jimmy—who always got scared when Mark told them a scary story at night—wouldn’t be alone.
    “There’s nothing more you can do, son,” the man said, his voice low and comforting.
    Jeff knew he was right, but he couldn’t stop stammering, “But he’s my best … he’s my best—” until—finally—his voice choked off.
    A heavy wave of darkness spread across his sight as he looked up at the sky. High overhead, the first few stars glittered. A crescent moon shined down on the beach, its reflection rippling like white ribbons in the dark water. The pine trees were all leaning inward. The dark slashes of branches looked like widening cracks in the sky. Jeff was afraid that—any second now—pieces of the sky were going to break off and come crashing down on him.
    “You okay there kid?” the man beside him asked. His hand rested lightly on Jeff’s shoulder, but his voice seemed to be coming from someplace far, far away.
    Jeff turned and looked at him, but it felt as though his head didn’t stop moving. It kept turning, spinning around on his neck like a child’s top. The world became a kaleidoscope of flashing blue light, smeared faces, dark figures of people moving around him, and tall, black trees that writhed like snakes around him. Shimmering pools of bright yellow and white light dazzled his vision. And then, with a loud whooshing roar, everything went black.
    * * *
    Some time later—he had no idea when—Jeff regained consciousness.
    He was lying on something soft, but he knew it wasn’t his bunk in the tent or his bed back at home. When his vision cleared a bit, he found himself looking up at Mr. Farnham’s face. He was bending over him with an expression of genuine concern.
    “Hello there,” Farnham said in a whisper. “How are you feeling?”
    Jeff licked his lips to answer but couldn’t. His mouth was dry, and when he tried to speak, the only sound that came out was a strangled croak.
    “Would you like a sip of water?”
    This was a woman’s voice, and Jeff finally realized he was in the camp infirmary. Mrs. Stott, the camp nurse, appeared at the bedside and held a glass with a straw up to his mouth. Jeff pursed his lips and sucked, amazed at how refreshing the tiny sip of water was on his parched throat.
    “Whoa. Not too much,” Mrs. Stott said. She slipped the straw out of his mouth before he could protest.
    “Wha—what happened?” Jeff asked.
    “You fainted,” Farnham said. For an instant, his expression hardened, but then he sighed and rubbed his forehead, wincing as though suffering some deep, internal pain.
    “You know,” Farnham continued, “you shouldn’t have gone out there. I was hoping the police would take care of things so you campers wouldn’t have to see what was going on.”
    “What was going on?” Jeff asked. He was surprised that he would actually challenge an adult—the camp director, no less. “What happened to Jimmy?”
    Mr. Farnham looked away and shook his head slowly from side to side.
    “That’s up to the authorities to determine,” he said. “My responsibility is to protect my campers.”
    Protect us like you did Jimmy? Jeff wanted to ask, but he remained silent. It frightened him to see the obvious confusion and hurt in Mr. Farnham’s expression.
    “I have a lot of phone calls to make tonight and tomorrow so you boys can go home.” Farnham paused and took a breath. When swallowed, his throat made a funny gulping sound. “This has been a terrible, a terrible thing, but we can all pull together and get through it. Right?”
    Not entirely sure why Mr. Farnham needed his reassurance, Jeff nodded slightly. The slight motion sent a blaze of pain through his