Chapter One
Dracula's Pillow
"Only a baby would take that stupid pillow to camp," Sam said. Sam and Robert were packing to go to camp for the month of August. Sam had gone last year, but this would be Robert's first time at sleepaway camp.
Robert looked at the small frayed pillow he had slept with ever since he was a baby in a crib. Then he saw his Dracula doll sitting on his desk. It was missing one fang and one arm. He glanced back at his pillow. Suddenly he had an idea.
"I'm not taking my pillow for me. I'm taking it for Dracula. Dracula always sleeps on it. Dracula won't want to come to camp without my pillow . . . his pillow." Carefully, Robert placed Dracula on the pillow.
"Oh boy," groaned Sam. "You're not just taking a pillow, you're taking your doll too."
"Dracula is "not" a doll," protested Robert. "He's the king of all vampires, half man, half bat. He lives at night, and he drinks people's blood. In fact, he's about to drink your blood."
Robert waved his doll at Sam. Sam pushed him away, and before they knew it they were shoving each other back and forth across the room and screaming.
Their mother ran into the room. "What's going on?"' she demanded.
"Dracula attacked Sam," said Robert, giggling. "He doesn't like him at all."
"Robert's going to take this stupid pillow to camp. Everyone's going to know my brother is a baby," said Sam.
"Sam, leave Robert alone,"warned their mother.
"He started it," protested Sam. "'He's going to make me feel like a dodo. Tell him he can't take his baby pillow."
"It's not a baby pillow. It's Dracula's pillow," said Robert. "Dracula does what he wants to do, and he wants to take his pillow to camp."
Mrs. Bamfordsighed. "'Sam, you know this is Robert's first year at overnight camp, and if he wants to take his pillow it's not really your business. Besides, he's only just over the chicken pox, and if he wants his pillow, it's fine."
"It's not my pillow. it's Dracula's," yelled Robert. "I'm not taking it for me. It's for him."
"Have it your own way," said Mrs. Bamford. "Just stop screaming."
"Baby," muttered Sam into Robert's ear so softly that Mrs. Bamford couldn't hear.
Mrs. Bamford drove Sam and Robert to the bus station. Dracula and his pillow were packed in Robert's knapsack. "Hiya, Samson, how's it going," shouted Billy, Sam's best, friend from last year. Soon Sam was surrounded by old friends.
Robert held on to his mother's hand. She squeezed it. "You're going to have a wonderful time," she said.
"Right," said Robert, swallowing hard, watching his brother talking with his friends. He noticed a tall thin man looking at him. The man walked over and held out his hand.
"Is this little Robert?" asked the man. Robert took his hand and tried not to wince as the man pumped it.
"I'm not little," said Robert. "I'm seven years old and my height is average for my age. Well, maybe just an inch below average."
The man smiled at Mrs. Bamford. "I only meant little compared to me. I'm your head counselor. My name is Robert, too. You can call me Big Robert."
Robert smiled weakly.
"Do you want to see how big and strong you'll be by the end of the summer?" Before Robert could answer, Big Robert rolled up his sleeves and the muscles on his arms bobbed up and down like kids on a trampoline.
Robert didn't know what to say. Neither did his mother.
"Everyone from the counselors to ourlittlest campers will be this strong by the end of the summer," said Big Robert. "Now it's time to say good-bye to your mother and join the other campers."
Robert gave his mother a big hug.
"It's only for four weeks," she said as she kissed him.
"That's six hundred and seventy-two hours," said Robert.
Sam left his friends and hugged his mother too. Then he took Robert's hand and led him onto the bus. "I was scared last year too," whispered Sam, and at that moment Robert was glad they were going to the same camp.