Ibrahim Khan and the Mystery of the Haunted Lake. Farheen Khan

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       Heading North

      Mrs. Morris, a petite woman with long, straight brown hair, stood patiently in front of the class waiting for her students to calm down. She couldn’t help smile at their excitement. They had worked hard to collect money for the needy, and she was proud of them. It was the end of the week and they’d be leaving for their three-day camping trip on Monday. All anyone wanted to talk about was Camp Chimo.

      “What does ‘Chimo’ mean anyway?” asked David, who loved finding the meanings of new words and using them.

      “Chimo means ‘friend’ and is used when saying hello or farewell. It was once widely used by the Inuit people here in northern Canada,” explained Mrs. Morris. “The camp is situated on a beautiful conservation area just two hours north of here. It is on land that another native tribe, the Cree, once called their home.”

      “What does ‘conservation’ mean?” asked David, scribbling the word into a small notebook he always kept in his pocket. He wore thick glasses that were too big for his small face, and loved to read. David was also a senior member of Huda’s book club.

      A few children put up their hands.

      “Yes, Ibrahim?” said Mrs. Morris.

      “‘Conservation’ means people are not allowed to cut down the trees or disturb the animals and their habitats,” he answered.

      “Correct,” said Mrs. Morris. “I expect you all to respect your surroundings while you’re there. Your science teacher, Mr. Barnell, has kindly agreed to join us on Monday and will be staying with the boys in their cabin.”

      “Will you stay with us?” one of the girls asked nervously.

      “Yes, Mariam,” Mrs. Morris reassured her. “There’s nothing to worry about.”

      “My brother said the lake is haunted,” said George, with a mischievous look in his eyes.

      George was older than the rest of the kids. He had missed a lot of school last year, and had been kept back in grade three because of his poor report card.

      “Yeah, didn’t he say the ghosts snatch you in the night?” said George’s best friend Ali with a wink.

      The boys sitting around George chuckled, earning them a glare from their teacher.

      “Well, if there are no more questions, class dismissed! Don’t forget to get your permission forms signed!” Mrs. Morris called after the loud children.

      ***

      Monday morning came with brilliant sunshine. The large, yellow school bus stood waiting in front of the red brick building of Greenwood School. Mr. Barnell’s tall, lanky figure stood at the door of the bus, making sure no one forgot anything.

      The excited campers piled into the bus, but no one immediately noticed who was missing. The Khan boys chose a seat near the front so that they could be the first ones out.

      “Where’s Mariam?” asked Zayn.

      “She probably chickened out,” yelled George, from two seats back.

      “Maybe the ghosts got her before she could even get to the camp!” laughed Ali.

      “That’s not nice!” said Ibrahim. “She could just be late,” but no one heard him over all the laughing.

      A few moments later Mrs. Morris and Mr. Barnell boarded the bus.

      “Okay guys, it looks like everyone who’s coming is here,” said Mr. Barnell, wiping his glasses and adjusting the sleeve of his brown tweed jacket.

      Just as the bus door shut behind him, a loud horn filled the air.

      “Stop, it’s Mariam!” called Mrs. Morris.

      A large black car swerved in behind the school bus. Mariam jumped out of the back seat with her bag hanging off one shoulder. The back of her hijab billowed out behind her as she ran to the side of the bus. Just as she reached the door, her bag turned upside down and the contents spilled onto the sidewalk, including a small stuffed bear. This time no one could hold in their laughter. Even Mr. Barnell had a smile on his face as he came off the bus to help. Red-faced, Mariam finally got on and took a seat behind the Khan Boys.