Enos waited a beat, watching the road.

"No," he said, still not looking at her, "I mean about what happened."

Annie frowned and shrugged.

"No."

Enos retreated into silence again. She waited for him to complete whatever he had been about to say, but he seemed to have thought better of it. There was a particular expression on his face.

"Come on," said Annie, "There's something you're not telling me."

Enos stared out onto the road, then he turned to look at her and said, "Quit. Quit now."

Annie's jaw dropped open.

"Quit? Why would I want to quit?"

"Camp Crystal Lake is jinxed." Enos turned back to watch the road. For a moment, she stared at him, astonished. Then, she burst out laughing.

"Oh terrific, not you too. You sound like your crazy friend back there."

"Well, maybe…" Enos said, scowling. His jaw muscles worked a moment and he glanced at her, then gazed back at the road.

"Did Christy tell you about the two kids murdered back in '58?"

She shook her head.

"About the boy who drowned back in '57?"

She shook her head again.

"About a bunch of fires they had? Nobody knows who did any of them. In 1962, they were gonna open up again. The water was bad."

He shook his head with resignation. "Steve Christy will wind up just like his folks: crazy and broke."

He glanced at her to see how she was taking it. Her face was a mixture of polite interest and skepticism.

"He's been up there for the past year, fixing up that place. He must have dropped 25,000 dollars and for what? Ask anybody. Quit."

"I can't," said Annie. Enos snorted.

"Dumb kids… know-it-alls. Just like my nieces. Heads full of rocks."

Annie laughed and shook her head.

"You're an American original," she said.

"I'm an American original," Enos mimicked her. "Dumb kid."

Annie chuckled.

"At least I'm not afraid of ghosts."

Enos gave up. What was the point? Maybe the kid was right. Maybe he was starting to sound like crazy Old Ralph. Maybe they were all afraid of ghosts in the town of Crystal Lake. He wouldn't get anybody to admit that in daylight, but at night, you couldn't pay anybody enough to go anywhere near that place. Call it Camp Crystal Lake, he thought. Call it any damn thing you like. Regrade the road. Give a few coats of fresh paint to the cabins. Do a few repairs on the dock. Fix the boathouse. Put up a nice new sign. It's still 'Camp Blood.'

Afraid of ghosts? To a stranger, it probably did sound crazy, but what happened there had happened after all. Argue with that.

He pulled up at the crossroads in front of the cemetery.

"Far as I go. You be heading that way," he pointed down to the other road, "Take care of yourself, kid."

Annie opened up the door and jumped down lightly.