Authors: Ellen Prager
Tristan got the message and chugged down more than half of the bottle in his backpack. The other campers did likewise. He glanced around nervously. They'd never had a team competition before. Tristan's
history in athletic competitions at home was nothing short of a series of humiliating disasters.
“Of course, the winners will get bragging rights,” Coach said. “But for some added motivationâthe bungalow that wins gets to go on a little excursion this evening for some homemade ice cream at Rita's place down the road. Now there's one delicious treat, and I'm not just talking about the ice cream, fellas.”
The campers turned to one another with an expression like they just tasted the world's sourest sourball. Just the thought of Coach Fred romancing the ice cream lady made them all squeamish.
“To win this, you'll need to work together and use your skills strategically. Teamwork is very important here at Sea Camp,” Coach announced. “Okay, here's how it's going to work. Somewhere out in the lagoon, I've placed two treasure chests on the seafloor. One has a red flag on it and one a blue. You must find your team's chest, bring it to the beach, and open it. Inside is a set of clues to where you will find the pieces to a puzzle. Once you've found the pieces, put the puzzle together. The first team to complete their puzzle and tell me what it says wins.”
Coach handed the red vests to the Squids and gave the blue ones to the Snappers. “I want this to be a clean challenge. Use your skills well, and be smart about it. Oh, and one more thingâno help from Scarface, Toosha, or any other dolphins. That would be too easy. Other sea creatures? Well, that's up to you. You have ten minutes to come up with a plan. Starting . . . now!”
Tristan huddled up with the other Snappers, while the Squids did the same a short distance away. As they talked, each teen put on his or her vest. Hugh's vest got stuck half-way over his head with his arms sticking straight up. Sam had to help him by pulling it down.
Ryder watched, rolling his eyes. “We are in serious trouble.”
Tristan was watching the Squids, sizing up the competition. He wondered what skills they would use. Brianna happened to glance his way and smiled shyly at him.
“Hey, like, no flirting with the enemy,” Ryder derided Tristan.
Rosina scowled at him. Hugh and Sam looked shocked.
“I wasn't flirting!” Tristan blurted out, his face turning red. “I was just checking them out. I mean, I was trying to figure out what skills they would use.”
“One minute left,” Coach shouted.
Sam stared disapprovingly at Tristan and then turned back to the others. “Like I was saying. Once we find it, how are we going to get the chest to the beach?”
“Okay, campers. Five, four, three, two, one, that's it for strategy,” Coach announced. “Everyone over to the beach.”
Tristan couldn't believe they thought he was flirting. He just looked at the girl. She was the one who smiled. He jogged over to the dock with the others. He glanced again at the pretty Squid. For some reason he
couldn't help himself. She caught him looking her way and again smiled. He turned away quickly, stumbling right into Hugh.
“Make me proud,” Coach yelled. “Get ready . . .
go!
”
Anthony Price, the Squids' pint-sized fish-talker, ran for the water and dove in. He swam out into the lagoon. Sam ran into the water as well. She dove in, swam about twenty feet out, and ducked under. Rosina took off for the dock.
The rest of the red team spread out along the sand, forming a widely spaced line. The flat-nosed, dark-haired surfer Squid seemed to be their leader. He confidently shouted, “Forward.” Together, they dove, swam out into the lagoon, and then popped up to reform their line.
“A search grid. Good strategy, Squids!” Coach yelled.
“Go, Sam. Hurry, Rosina,” Tristan shouted.
Rosina ran to where Henry was perched on a dock piling. After a short teenager-pelican powwow, the bird took off and began gliding high up over the lagoon, looking down.
“Interesting, Snappers,” Coach commented.
The Squids continued their coordinated swim in the lagoon.
Tristan pointed offshore. “Oh, no, check out the fish.”
A school of small silver fish leapt repeatedly out of the water in front of the Squids. A head popped up amid the porpoising fish. It was Price. He looked
toward the Snappers and waved with the smirkiest expression ever. He then dove back in among the leaping fish.
Rosina joined the other Snappers. Tristan could hardly contain himself. He wanted to get out there and start searching. He wondered if their great strategy was so great after all. He heard a sharp whistle. Fish boy was waving the red team over.
“Nice work, Price. Looks like the Squids have found their chest. Better get a move on, Snappers,” Coach shouted.
“Where's Sam?” Ryder complained. “What's taking her so long?”
Moments later, Henry circled the group and then landed near Rosina. Sam ran out of the water. Both girls began talking at once. The boys looked from one girl to the other, their heads ping-ponging back and forth.
“Whoa,” Tristan finally said. “One at a time.”
Sam nodded to Rosina.
“Henry says the chest is near the big brain coral next to where Scarface likes to rub his back in the sand.”
Tristan and the others looked at her like she just spoke in a language no one on Earth could possibly understand. “Where the heck is that?”
“Don't worry, follow me. I know,” Sam said running into the lagoon.
“Hope your sonar works better than Henry's directions,” Ryder said.
“Hey,” Rosina growled.
They sprinted for the water. Tristan tripped in the soft sand, doing a perfect nosedive onto the beach. Typical, he thought. He jumped up, hoping nobody, especially Brianna, had noticed. Tristan dove into the lagoon and quickly caught up with the others. About 150 yards from shore, Sam dove down and pointed to a yellow coral covered with squiggly ridges. Some eight feet behind it and to the right was a three-foot-long brown chest with a blue flag strapped on top. The water was about twelve feet deep.
Back at the surface, Ryder swam to gain speed and jumped up to see the Squids. He came back to the group treading water over the chest. “They've found their chest, but it doesn't look like they're moving it yet.”
Ryder and Tristan dove down and tried to pick up the wooden box. The other teens put their heads underwater to watch. The two boys strained, but the chest barely came off the sand.
“It's too heavy to carry,” Tristan said back at the surface.
“What if we push it?” Sam suggested.
As a group, they dove down and tried to push the chest forward. It moved about an inch before getting solidly stuck in the sand. The teens headed up.
Ryder jumped again to see how the other team was doing. “They've started moving to the beach.”
“Maybe one of us should go over there and see how they're doing it?” Hugh suggested.
“Uh, wait,” Rosina said. “I have an idea. I think. Something Ms. Sanchez said last year. Remember, she told us that some snails use their mucus to travel over the sand to go faster.”
The others shook their heads.
“What if I put some slime down in front of the chest and then you guys pull it over the slime?”
“Worth a try,” Tristan said.
Ryder looked doubtful, but the others agreed to give it a go.
“Give me a minute,” Rosina said before diving down and shaking her hands in front of the chest.
Tristan was watching from the surface when something big bumped his legs. His heart leapt and he flinched, instinctively curling his feet in. He swiveled around. It was Snaggle-Tooth.
Hey, what's happening? What you guys doing?
Seeing the sand tiger shark, Hugh casually swam behind the others.
Rosina came up for a breath and went back down.
Tristan told Snaggle-Tooth about their challenge against the Squids. The shark asked if he could play too. Tristan told the other teens about the shark's offer.
“He should help us move the chest. Push it for us,” Ryder suggested.
Sam smiled mischievously. “I have a better idea.”
After she explained and the others enthusiastically agreed, Tristan told Snaggle-Tooth what to do.
Rosina came back to the surface. “Okay, try it now. Every few feet, I'll try to add some more mucus. Just hope I don't run out or anything.”
“Wait a minute,” Tristan said. “You're going to want to see this.” He rose up out of the water, straining to see the red team. The other Snappers did the same. At first, they couldn't see any of the Squids. They were all underwater moving the chest. Seconds later, there was a flurry of arms and legs at the surface. A Squid girl screamed. The red team scattered, swimming away in all directions. In the center of the ruckus, a large dark gray fin broke the surface and began circling. The Snappers fist-pumped the air, laughing. The other team had just been punked by a shark.
“C'mon, let's go,” Tristan said. “Once they realize it's just Snaggle-Tooth playing, they'll get back to moving their chest.”
The group submerged. Tristan and Ryder grabbed the handles on each side of the chest and pulled. Hugh, Sam, and Rosina pushed from behind. At first the chest barely moved, catching again in the sand. Then the slime kicked in. The chest shot forward, sliding smoothly over the bottom. The teens popped up for a breath and went back down. Rosina gave up pushing to focus on releasing globs of mucus in front of the chest. They made good progress and soon were about halfway to shore. The teens gathered on the surface to rest.
“It's a tie. You're neck and neck!” Coach Fred shouted from the dock.
The teens dove back down. They pulled and pushed. But they were getting tired, and the chest was moving more slowly. Hugh and Sam suddenly dove to the side. A large, gray snout nudged the chest from behind. Snaggle-Tooth had returned to help. The chest
barreled toward the beach. Soon it was too shallow for the shark. Tristan thanked him for his help and the teens dragged the chest out of the water onto the sand.
Hugh collapsed. “I've been slimed!”
The mucus Rosina had shaken off her hands was on the sand, the chest, and all over the teens.
“Uh, sorry about that,” Rosina said with a slight smile. “But at least it worked.”
“Just think of that nice cool ice cream, sweet and delicious,” Coach Fred yelled. “Better get hopping, Squids. Snappers have taken the lead!”
Tristan looked down the beach. The other team was just nearing the beach. “C'mon, you guys. We're ahead. Let's open this thing up.”
A blue rope was wrapped about the chest and tied with a stack of tight, round knots. The teens tried to untie the rope, but the mucus on their hands made it impossible. They wiped the gooey slime off on their swimsuits, then on each other. They rinsed their hands off in the water, scrubbed them with sand, but it hardly helped. Tristan glanced down the beach. The other team was now on the beach and beginning to work on the rope around their chest.
“Hold on,” Hugh said. “Let me try something.”
The others looked at him doubtfully, but backed away. Hugh ran for the water, dunked under quickly, and returned to the chest. He closed his eyes, concentrating, fingering the knots.
“What's he doing? We're going to lose just standing here,” Ryder barked.
Hugh's fingers seemed to somehow lengthen and
narrow, working their way into spaces impossibly small. The knots started to loosen. Hugh opened his eyes and began untying them. The others jumped in to help. The rope fell away from the chest.
“Cool, how'd you do that?” Tristan asked.
“Something Old Jack taught me last summer,” Hugh said, smiling. “Wasn't sure I could still do it.”
“Nice job, everyone. It's neck and neck again,” Coach shouted.
They opened the chest. Inside was a rectangular lead weight attached to an iPad encased in sturdy plastic.
Ryder grabbed the iPad. “Now what?”
“Here, let me,” Hugh said, taking it from the teen. He turned it on. A satellite image of the beach and lagoon came up. A text box then popped up that read:
Follow the three clues to your puzzle pieces
. Hugh pressed the number one icon. It was positioned over the lagoon dock.
Here's where we started, here's where we finish. Carry me below, then off you go
.
Rosina threw up her hands. “What the heck does that mean?”
“Do you think it's waterproof?” Tristan asked.
“Yeah, I bet it is,” Hugh answered. “And I bet it also has a GPS unit in it. C'mon.” He ran for the dock. The others followed. The red team was sprinting just ahead of them. “I think we have to bring it under the dock.”
They dove in and swam beneath the dock's wooden planks. Treading water, Hugh held up the iPad. A loud ding rang out like the chime of a clock. A number two icon popped up on the screen.