Day Zero, Part Three - Settling In

Starseeker, Starfire Scales, Shadow Dragon, and Booksy Owly all helped carry Poetic Panda’s limp body out into the lobby. Settling her onto a cushy couch and covering her with a fuzzy blanket to mask her dead-ness, they ran to the other CBer’s rooms, yelling, “Come quick! We have urgent news! Meet us in the lobby as soon as you can!”

All the other CBers immediately streamed out of their rooms and rushed down the staircase to the expansive lobby. They spotted Poetic Panda’s body on the couch and some ran over to say hello.

“Hey, Poetic Panda!” Cho exclaimed. “I hear you’re a fan of Harry Potter. Who’s your favorite character?” Poetic Panda, of course, did not move. Cho continued, “Mind if I sit down?” Still nothing from Poetic Panda. “Hm…” Cho went on, pulling off some of the blanket off of Poetic Panda. Cho’s face turned from one of cheerfulness to one of surprise and horror. “Panda?...Panda, talk to me! Say something!” Poetic Panda lay still. “Oh no!...I didn’t do it, did I? No, there’s no way I...no! No, no, no!” Cho started having a fit, blaming herself for Poetic Panda’s death, when Wingnut walked up to comfort her.

“Itok,” Wingnut said, rubbing Cho’s back gently.

“But-but-but she’s dead! And it’s”--sniff, sniff--“All my fault!” Cho wailed.

“Iznt,” Wingnut comforted.

“What?” Cho asked. “But it has to be! I mean...she just...wait a minute. Poetic Panda was lying still as a board (Petrificus Totalus!) on the couch when I got here. So, that could only mean one thing - the murderer was already here!!!” Cho cried.

Booksy Owly heard Cho’s cry and rushed over to explain. “Cho, that’s not it. We - I mean, Starseeker, Starfire Scales, Aquina, Wingnut, Shadow Dragon, and me - carried Poetic Panda’s body down here so we can prove that she died. That’s all.”

“Well, then, how do you explain her blanket?” Cho asked.

“We wanted to make her look comfortable,” Booksy Owly explained.

“Fine,” Cho huffed, “I guess you’re right.”

“OK, everyone,” Booksy Owly began. “The CBers from the Green Room have some tragic news they’d like to share with you.” Everyone glanced around nervously and took a seat. “Poetic Panda has died.” That made a few more CBers sniffle and cry, and Booksy Owly passed around the Kleenex box. “After swallowing a pillow mint, she dropped to the floor and choked to death.” More CBers gasped, hoping that they would not end in the same way. “So, it’s official,” Booksy Owly confirmed, “there is a murderer among us. And he or she must be stopped before anyone else is killed. So, what do you all think we should do?”

“Well, not trust anyone,” Rufus suggested. Will T. smacked his forehead.

“We can’t do that! That would take the relaxation out of this getaway!” Will T. replied.

“Hm...getaway. That sounds like what the murderer does,” Puck put in suspiciously.

“I’m not the murderer!” Will T. protested. “I liked Poetic Panda!”

“Hm…” Rufus thought, slowly pulling out his pie blaster, “that’s what a murderer would say.”

“Rufus, Puck, stop!” Starseeker chimed in. “The murderer could be any one of us! Even you!”

Rufus and Puck thought about this for a moment, then they both sighed. “I guess you’re right,” Puck agreed sadly. “But if I can’t slide down the railing, how am I supposed to have any fun?”

“Well, you could join us on our first adventure tomorrow,” the Activities Director chimed in.

“When did you get here?!” asked Leafmist.

“I just kind of walked up while you guys were talking. You’re right, Starseeker,” the Activities Director said, “the murderer could be any one of us. And on that happy note, it’s time for dinner!”

All the remaining CBers sighed. “Well, I guess I am a little hungry,” Aquina admitted. “And it would take our minds off the fact that there’s a murderer here - for a while, at least.”

“Come on, then!” the Activities Director exclaimed. “I’ll show you to the dining room.”

The remaining CBers followed her to the dining room, where they were greeted by an antler chandelier, a well-lit vaulted ceiling, a set table with chairs, and, best of all, an indoor/outdoor balcony that overlooked both the mountains and the dining room. In the corner was a rustic stone fireplace with a hearty fire burning in it.

“Diese Tabelle Einstellung ist so charmant!” Aquina exclaimed.When all the other CBers gave her odd looks, she explained, “I can speak German.” (I hope my German was correct there, I used Google Translate.)

“If you can speak German, what did you say?” Cho asked.

“This table setting is so charming,” Aquina translated.

“Oh!” Cho said, surprised that Aquina was telling the truth. Aquina winked back at her.

Aquina was right, the table was charming! Decorated with a wooden vase with seasonal flowers, fancy goblets, placemats, bowls, specially folded napkins, and pewter silverware; as well as matching bowls and plates with a snowflake design. Each CBer had their own individual place at the table made clear with a place marker with each CBer’s name on it.

Going around clockwise, the seating arrangement looked like this: Activities Director (head of the table), Sweet Tea, Leafmist, Cloudfire, Misty, Biscuit, Will T., Rufus, Sydney C., Joan B., Puck, Sir Galahad, Cho Chang, Elvina, Legolas, Aquina, Wingnut, Booksy Owly, (Poetic Panda), Starseeker, Starfire Scales, Shadow Dragon (opposite head of the table).

“Yes! I get to sit next to Sydney C.!” Joan exclaimed happily.

“Yay! I’m sitting next to Joan!” Puck laughed mischievously. Joan rolled her eyes but looked warily at her seat, cautious of whoopee cushions or pinecones or other pranks.

“You may sit down,” the Activities Director announced. Everyone did so. Then the Activities Director clapped her hands twice, and cooks brought in platters of food.

Oh, the food! That night was spaghetti and meatballs. Also presented to the CBers was garlic bread, a choice of soup, and salad with dozens of different salad dressing options. As for drinks, the CBers had the option of ice water (sparkling or regular), lemonade (pink or regular), fruit juice (sparkling or regular), or tea (Earl Grey, green tea with mint, lemon, etc.). After a while, the Activities Director clapped her hands again and more cooks came back with luscious desserts. These included (but were not limited to) several types of cake, cookies, ice cream, brownies, tiramisu, crème brûlée, chocolate-covered strawberries and other dipped fruits, and sweet edible flowers with dainty edible faux butterflies and drops of liquid sugar for dewdrops.

All the AEs had more dessert than spaghetti, meatballs, soup, salad, and garlic bread put together. When the rest of the CBers realized this, most of the ones with AEs sighed because they knew they’d have to deal with their sugar highs later.

Finally, dinner was over. The Activities Director suggested that everyone head to bed because they were going skiing at sunrise! Everyone heartily agreed because even though some of them were not “morning CBers”, they wanted to see the mountains at sunrise.

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Later that night, while 99% of the CBers were sleeping, the murderer was not. He/she was planning his/her next murder, and unfortunately completed their maniacal task.

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In the morning, Cho Chang was still groggy but wanted to get a head start on the morning, so she sat on the bed and searched for her slippers, which were supposed to be on the floor next to her bed. Her feet moved around, groping for the softness of her slippers, when she came across something else - a leg.

Cho gasped and clicked on the light next to her bottom bunk. There, on the floor, she saw Sydney C., sprawled with a look of surprise on her face, and Cho began to cry.

That woke up Elvina, who walked over to comfort Cho. “What’s wrong?” she asked, stepping over to Cho. Elvina’s foot landed on Sydney’s arm. “WHAT DID I JUST STEP ON?!” she demanded.

“Well, that’s the reason I was crying,” Cho explained, wiping away her tears. “That’s Sydney’s dead body.” Elvina went pale. “You can’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Yes, I can! You said nothing of the sort!” Elvina protested.

“It’s an expression!” Cho shot back.

“Well, I- hey, if people are getting murdered here, the last thing we want is to have the next person die angry. Truce?”

“Truce,” Cho agreed. “Now, should we wake up the rest of the CBers or let them sleep a little longer?”

“Well-” Elvina began, but she was interrupted by a knock on the door.

The Activities Director’s voice came streaming in. “Good morning, CBers!” she exclaimed. “Time to get up! We’re going skiing in an hour!”

“Mmph,” Joan said.

“Oh! Joan, you’re up!” Elvina exclaimed.

“Well, not exactly,” Joan said. “I can’t say I’m awake and happy quite yet.” She groped for the alarm clock on the bedside table. “What time is it?”

“6:30!” exclaimed the Activities Director from outside the door.

“Mmph,” Joan said again, yanking the pillow over her head. “It’s too early.”

Meanwhile, Puck sneaked close to Joan’s bed holding an air horn. When (s)he was close enough, Puck activated the air horn and Joan literally jumped out of the bed.

“PUUUUUCK!” she yelled at the top of her lungs. Puck just laughed heartily and ran to get dressed.

“T'rly,” Sir Galahad said.

“Too early,” Joan translated, still under the pillow.

“Well, get up an’ movin’, we’ve gotta tell all the other CBers that Sydney’s dead!” Cho said.

“MMPH,” Joan repeated.

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R.I.P. Sydney C. May you live on as a lesson to all bunk-bed makers to put in a railing.

Activities Director