Cartboy Goes to Camp (12 page)

“Vinny. Ryan's hammock is empty. We can dig. Hurry. Let's go.”

Vinny looked in the direction of Ryan's hammock and then back at me. “Um, there's no way.”

“Look. Ryan is behind the dining hall with Billy. By the looks of things, they'll be busy for at least another half hour.”

“No, thanks.”

“Vinny, this might be our last chance.”

“I know. But if Billy and Ryan catch us, we're dead. Plus, I've been thinking. Maybe the B. E. is not the big elm.”

“There's one way to find out.” I gave Vinny my most begging-y look.

“Please?” I said.

“Five minutes. I'll go for five minutes and that's it.”

We hurried to Cabin 2 and grabbed our shovels. Then we slowly, carefully crept behind all the boys' cabins, looking over our shoulders every
two seconds.

As soon as we reached the hammock, we started digging frantically. As if every second counted. Which it did.

After a few minutes, I leaned toward Vinny. “I know this is hard. And scary. But let's look on the bright side: Since Scot and Perth are out, we're back to splitting the treasure fifty–fifty.”

“Sixty–forty.”

“Right. Luckily those pearls will be worth a lot.”

“Pearls?” A deep, low voice came from behind a pine tree near the hammock.

And then Ryan and Billy stepped out.

“What pearls?” said Ryan.

“D-did I say pearls?” I said. “Ha! I was just telling Vinny about my grandmother's pearls. She sold them at a garage sale. Made four bucks!”

Ryan stepped right up to my face. “So that's what all these holes are for. You guys are digging for a buried treasure.”

Vinny and I tried to take off. To get out of there before there were any more questions. But Ryan and Billy blocked us like a couple of linebackers for the 49ers.

“Oh, don't stop digging, you two,” said Ryan. “Please, carry on. And when you do find those pearls, there are two special people you're going to give them to: us.”

“W-what if we don't find them before Pioneer Day?” I asked.

“You'll just have to find a way. Won't you?”

 

The Best Pioneer

Dear Reader Who I Hope Is Still with Me:

Pioneer Day started out just like every day at Camp Jamestown. I woke up at 5:45
A.M.
to a sound that was bone-shattering. Head-splitting. And dangerously close to my ear.

My whole family piled out of the car and charged into my cabin like they hadn't seen me in fourteen years. They were shouting and screaming so much, you could barely make out a word they said.

I hadn't even gotten out of
bed
yet.

“How did you get here so early?” I asked my dad.

“We stayed at a nearby motel.”

“
You
sprang for a motel?”

“Well, okay, we slept in the car. But it was in a motel parking lot.”

I hugged the twins, gave Grampa Janson a low five, and introduced everyone to my bunkmates and Theo.

“You are all invited to breakfast!” Theo said.

We walked to the dining hall and went inside. It was busting at the seams with campers, moms, dads, cousins—you name it.

Seeing as how most of the families had traveled far, and seemed hungry, I thought breakfast would be something special.

But nope. It was the same as always.

The parents all looked pretty horrified when they tasted the breakfast gruel. But there was one person it didn't bother: my dad. He took a
double
helping and started wolfing it down.

“Incredible!” he said. “It's like we've gone back 'n tme. 'Nd we're livng jst lke th frst sttlrs.”

I figured he had trouble getting the vowels out on account of the fact his tongue was
stuck
to the roof of his mouth.

He didn't even stop chewing when he looked up and saw someone he knew. “Ryn Hrnr!”

“Oh. Um. Hey, Mr. Rifkind.”

My dad pointed to the seat right
next to mine.
“Wld you lk t join us?”

“Yes, I would.” Ryan plunked his blimpy frame down an
inch
away from me. And then he whispered in my ear. “You better find those pearls for me, Cartboy. Today.”

“But … we've dug up every inch of ground by your hammock. They're not there.”

“Then look somewhere else. I don't care where. Just find them—”

D
OO
  D
OO
  L
OOT
!

Ryan quit talking, and everyone turned to see Mr. Prentice standing at the door.

“Welcome, boys, girls, counselors, parents, and history lovers!” he said. “Today, thy campers shall demonstrate everything they have learned over the past two weeks!”

We all followed Mr. Prentice to the middle of the clearing. Once everyone had gathered around him, he pulled out a special Pioneer Day scroll.

“Now,” he said. “Each activity shall be awarded up to six points, or pioneer hats. And each shall be judged based on very specific criteria.”

“Ye can choose any order ye like to do your activities!” said Mr. Prentice. “I shall walk around and award the scores throughout the day. Begin!”

The campers and their parents scattered like cockroaches in the sun. But I just stood there, frozen, not sure what to do first.

“Why don't you start with bow-and-arrow hunting, Hal?” said my dad. “I'm sure you're good at it.”

“Uh…”

“That was my specialty when I was here!”

My mom, dad, Grampa Janson, and the twins all followed me to the bow-and-arrow area by the pond. I picked up a bow and thought maybe I'd get lucky. Maybe some of those Rifkind hunting genes would kick in. Right when I needed them most.

I grabbed an arrow, aimed, and started shooting at the target in front of me. It was a silhouette of a squirrel.

My first twelve arrows missed the squirrel completely. Then by some miracle, I got a bull's-eye.

It wasn't until one of my arrows nearly took out Grampa Janson's hearing aid that my dad said, “Let's move on.”

He looked around at all the colonial activities. “Ooh, how about butter churning, son? I was the fastest at that!”