The Kids Aren't Alright

Chapter 57: Finn

"Yes, it really was that obvious. As obvious as your huge crush on Giselle."

He nearly chokes. "I— do— not!"

"Can we please focus?" I demand. "We don't have to gossip. Jasper, search for any files from the year of '69."

Jasper types a few more lines into the computer.

The computer goes blank.

"There's nothing here," he says, frowning. He types more aggressively into the computer. Still, the screen remains empty. "Weird. I could have sworn I heard one of the counselors mention the summer of '69 before...."

"Look harder."

"I am looking. There's nothing here."

"How?"

"1969 literally doesn't exist. The Director didn't upload any files for that year."

"Seriously?" Ronan shoves Jasper out of the way to get a better look at the computer screen. "No way! I don't believe it. The camp was open in '69, there has to be something."

"I did a search for all documents from the year 1969. There aren't any."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"It means that, logically, we can assume the camp wasn't open in the summer of '69. There are absolutely no documents from that time— which is an anomaly, because the Director uploaded files from '68 and '67. The only reason that I can think of why she wouldn't upload files for '69 is that she deleted them."

Ronan shakes his head staunchly. "That doesn't make any sense. Why would the Director delete her own files? Or close Lightlake for one summer?"

"Thing is, I don't think it was for just one summer. There aren't any files from '70, or '71. I think she closed it down for three years."

"That 'something' Wolseley was talking about must have been really bad if it made the Director close down the camp for such a long time," I say. "Isn't Lightlake her life's work or something cheesy like that?"

Ronan glares at the computer screen like it personally wronged him. I can even see his right eye starting to twitch— and it only does that when he's really worked up. "I've never heard of Lightlake being closed for three years. Never."

"Neither have I," Jasper says. "Maybe the Director wanted to keep it a secret."

"But why? What could have happened that was so bad, the Director shut down the camp and never spoke of it again?"

"Maybe somebody died," I offer.

Both campers turn to stare at me as if I'd suggested an alien invasion instead.

"If I were the Director, I would definitely close down Lightlake if a kid died," I say, feeling a tad defensive. "It's the logical thing to do: shut down the camp to avoid a scandal."

"Yes, but how exactly would a kid end up dying, here of all places?" Ronan presses. His voice is as taut as a stretched-out rubber band. I can tell that this is going to drive him crazy. He hates letting mysteries go unsolved, and this— well, this is the biggest mystery of all. "None of this makes any sense. We're going to have to talk to Wolseley."

"Wolseley?" Jasper and I exclaim in unison.

"Wolseley is the one that told me about the summer of '69. He's got to know something."

"Or he could know nothing, and go tell the Director that you've been snooping in her computer," I say. 

"We won't tell him about the computer, moron. All we'll say is that we know he knows something about the summer of '69, and that we want to know, too."