Chapter 4
"So when are we going camping?" Micky asked eagerly as he entered
the kitchen.
"You're worse than Peter!" Mike exclaimed taking a bite of cereal.
"Yeah, I know. When?"
Davy came down the stairs slipping on a black and white striped
sweatshirt. He let out a heavy sigh.
"Still not answering her phone huh?" Mike guessed.
"No." Davy let out another sigh.
Peter ran inside the pad, really out of breath.
"What's wrong?" Mike asked.
"Mr B mad! Late for rent again! He's coming here!" Peter panted.
"Well then. Let's go camping!" Mike cried.
The four ran upstairs, packing up their suitcases quickly and ran
outside.
"This is going to be fun!" Micky grinned as he climbed in the front
seat.
"Yeah right." Davy mumbled hopping in the back.
"Aw cheer up! It will be fun. We'll get to sleep in a sleeping bag.
Eat hotdogs and beans. And most importantly we won't have to worry
about Babbit yelling at us." Mike laughed.
"I just feel bad about Sarah."
"Well call her when you get back. She proubly just went somewhere
with her parents." Micky said.
"How's the lip?" Mike asked.
"Alittle puffy. It doesn't hurt that much anymore." Davy said.
"Good."
"Hey. Can we make smores?" Micky asked
"Sure!" Mike smiled.
"And tell ghost stories?" Peter asked.
"NO!" the others cried in unison.
"Alright the tent's set. But I don't think there's going to be room
for all four of us. So two of us can sleep in it. The other two are
going to have to sleep outside in a sleeping bag." Peter frowned.
"Hey, I don't mind." Micky grinned.
"Okay Micky. Go get the food." Mike said.
"What food?"
"What do you mean what food? The food we packed. Didn't you get it?"
Mike asked.
"No! I thought Davy grabbed it!"
"I don't have it! I thought Peter grabbed it!"
"I don't have it! I thought Mike had it!" Peter cried.
"Stop it! I have an idea. Why don't you and Davy go fishing and try
to catch us some fish. Me and Micky'll stay here and get a fire
going so we can cook the fish." Mike suggested.
"That's a good idea." Davy grinned.
"We'll be right back." Peter said grabbing two fishing poles.
After Peter and Davy left the other two Monkees went looking for
some sticks to start a campfire.
"Hey Mike. I gotta warn you. Becareful with some of these twigs.
Especially if they have red leaves. That's poison oak." Micky warned.
Mike frowned as he looked at the branches in his hand. "Did you say
red?"
"Anything biting yet?" Peter asked.
"Peter, you've asked me that twenty times now. You're proubly
scaring the fish away." Davy sighed.
"Sorry."
Davy glanced out at the water. It was so pretty in the spot he and
Peter were sitting at. He thought about Sarah and felt bad.
She'll never get to see it. he thought.
"Davy! I think I caught something!" Peter cried.
Davy raced towards him and grinned. "You did catch something!"
Peter grinned as he started to rail in his fish. But the fish gave a
hard tug causing Peter to lose his grip. The pole slipped into the
water near the current.
"Sorry!" Peter cried as he went to get the pole.
"Becareful!" Davy said.
"I will." Peter promised.
He was having a hard time walking in the water. His legs kept
slipping.
"Forget about the pole and get out of there!" Davy cried.
"I think I have it." Peter said.
He reached for the pole when he felt his legs slip again this time
dragging him into the current.
"Peter!" Davy cried.
"Davy! Help!" Peter cried as he felt himself going faster and faster.
"I'm coming! Hang on!" Davy cried.
"To what?!"
Chapter 5
Chapter 3
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