Applewhites at Wit's End (15 page)

Chapter Thirty-one

F
or almost a week the messages went on showing up with the mail, and E.D. took guilty delight in watching her father prowl around Wit's End obsessing over mess and looking for signs of vermin infestation. He was the only one who still seemed to be taking the threat seriously. When the results of Plan C had been reported at a staff meeting, Zedediah said they might as well just go on taking things a day at a time. “We haven't heard directly from the state, after all. I doubt that we'll see the man again. It's hard to imagine that a little operation like ours will seem worth risking life and limb over.”

Lucille insisted there was no need to worry in any case since they were so clearly under the protection of cosmic forces. She had taken to keeping her camera with her all the time and taking sudden flash photographs without warning. “We are positively surrounded by orbs!”

Then, very early on the morning of July 17, when all the campers were at yoga, Sybil was in the kitchen getting breakfast, and E.D. was putting up the daily schedule in the dining tent, the plain black car came up the drive and pulled to a stop by the front porch with a squeal of brakes. The man, this time wearing a light blue suit, emerged from the car with his clipboard in hand and leaned on the horn.

E.D. flipped on her walkie-talkie. She hoped Jake was awake and that wherever he was, he had his walkie-talkie with him. “Jake! Jake, are you on? 9-1-1. Repeat. 9-1-1. Come to the Lodge. Right now!”

At the sound of the horn, Paulie, in the kitchen, had begun screaming like someone being attacked by an ax murderer. The horn, beeping over and over, had apparently sent him into a frenzy. Sybil hurried to the door and came out on the porch, wiping her hands on her apron. “May I help you?”

“I'm from the Department of Environment and Natural Resources!” the man shouted over the sound of Paulie's screams. “Who's in charge here?”

“Well I suppose I am at the moment,” Sybil said. “I'm the associate director.”

He waggled an official-looking name tag at her. “I'm Thomas Timmons, and I've come to inspect this camp.” He looked at his clipboard. “
Eureka!
Is that the name? Strange name for a camp.”

“Inspect the camp?” Sybil said as if she'd never heard of such a thing. “We've had no call about an inspection!”

“Of course you haven't had a call. This is an unannounced inspection, as per Section 15A of the North Carolina Administrative Code. What is there about the term ‘unannounced' you don't understand?”

Paulie's screams subsided, and he began instead a series of his most colorful curses.

“Am I correct in assuming that someone at this camp is swearing at an agent of the government? I will not be sworn at!” Brandishing his clipboard, the man stormed up the steps of the porch, and Sybil retreated until she was backed up against the screen door.

“That's just Paulie,” she said. “My father-in-law's parrot.”

“Parrot?” The man pulled a pen from his jacket pocket and jotted something on the clipboard. “A live bird on the premises. Clear danger of psittacosis. I hope this bird does not reside in the kitchen. That would be a serious violation of regulations!”

Sybil's face drained of color. “Reside? Well, no! Paulie
resides
in Maple Cottage. He was just brought over this morning to be—”

“This is to be a full inspection: food preparation area, lodging facilities, sanitation and bathing facilities, drinking water, vermin control, recreational waters. All of it. The future of this camp will depend on the results. I wish to begin with food preparation. Take me to your kitchen!”

“What is that infernal racket?” Randolph's voice could be heard now amid Paulie's gradually diminishing shrieks and curses. “Doesn't anyone down there know what time it is? It is barely past dawn!”

At that moment Winston came around the house barking his terrorist protection bark. Jake hurried after him, walkie-talkie in hand. Destiny, still in his pajamas, followed.

“Someone put up that dog!” the man yelled over the tumult. “It is against the law for an unrestrained animal to be present during an official inspection.”

“Jake!” Sybil said. “Take Winston somewhere else, would you please?”

“Is that the
bad man
, Mommy?” Destiny demanded. “The
destruction and delay
man?”

“Hush, Destiny. Of course not,” Sybil said.

“Come on, Winston!” E.D. called. “You too, Destiny.” If they were to put the plan they had come up with into effect, she had to let the others know what was going on. “Let's go watch the campers do yoga!”

“Oooh, goodie! Can I do it, too? I'm really, really good at yoga,” Destiny told the man as E.D. grabbed his hand and tried to aim him toward the barn, “but they never lets me do it. They say I'm too loud. Am I too loud, do you think?”

By this time Randolph, in undershorts and T-shirt, had come to the door, smoothing his tangled hair. “What's all this? Who are you?”

“Thomas Timmons, from the Department of Environment and Natural Resources!” the man repeated, glancing over his shoulder from time to time at Winston, who was now growling menacingly and uttering the occasional
woof
as he followed E.D.

“Then I suggest you go look after the environment. Get out there and protect some of our natural resources and quit intruding on the affairs of the citizens of this state whose taxes are responsible for keeping you employed.”

The man waved his clipboard again. “I
demand
to be taken to your kitchen. Immediately!”

Jake hurried to the porch steps. “Excuse me, sir,” he said. “But the campers haven't had breakfast yet, so the kitchen is very busy at the moment. I'd be happy to take you to see the lodging facilities, and we can come back to the kitchen when the campers are eating. The food preparation area won't go anywhere while we're gone, I promise you.”

“I want you to know that I'm calling your superiors!” Randolph blustered through the screen door now. “It's a crime to send anyone here before normal work hours.
Eureka!
is not open to the public until ten o'clock, I'll have you know!”

“Randolph! Go upstairs and get dressed,” Sybil was saying as E.D. pulled Destiny away.

Chapter Thirty-two

T
wo can play at this game,
Jake thought as he led the still-blustering Thomas Timmons, or whatever his name really was, on as roundabout a route as he could manage past the far side of the Lodge toward the boys' and girls' cottages. He began explaining
Eureka!
as if he really believed the man was an inspector from the state.

“This used to be a motor lodge,” he told him, “so the campers stay in self-contained cottages. Each one houses three campers and a counselor and has a full kitchen and a full bath. Even though the cottages aren't air-conditioned, we like to think
Eureka!
provides exceptionally luxurious accommodations.”

“The department doesn't care about luxury,” the man said, scratching the back of his neck with one hand. His frown got even more ferocious. “What we care about is the health and well-being of the campers. What we care about is sanitation. Sanitation and
safety
!”

Jake hoped this guy's intimidating attitude was all an act. If the plan they'd figured out—the plan he hoped E.D. was getting organized right now—was going to work, the man pretty much had to be a good guy at heart.

When they'd gathered to figure out what to do, David had suggested replacing distraction and delay with “capture and torture.”

Q had accused him of watching too much television, but Cinnamon pointed out that the capture part was right. “We need to catch him instead of chasing him off. But how?”

Destiny had started jumping up and down. “I know how, I know how! We can dig a Heffalump trap. Like Pooh and Piglet. We can dig a
pit
where he'll fall in and he won't be able to get out.”

Everyone had laughed at this at first. But it was Destiny's Heffalump trap that finally led them to their plan. Of course, they had thought the man would sneak into Wit's End the way he had before. They hadn't expected him to make a frontal assault. But now that he had, they would just have to make the best of it.
Creativity and flexibility,
Jake thought.
Like Zedediah said.
Jake figured his job was to stall for time and give the man a false sense of confidence. Thomas Timmons needed to believe they were buying his act.

The two of them had arrived at the boys' cottage now, and Jake led the man onto the porch. “You'll be interested in the Community Service aspect of the
Eureka!
program. We've involved every person at the camp, staff and campers alike, in making sure that everything is kept clean and in order.” With that he opened the door so that the man could go inside.
It's a good thing this isn't real!
Jake thought. Nothing about what greeted them as they entered was clean and in order.

Because Hal needed a room of his own, Harley had been sleeping on a foldout couch in the living room. Not only was the couch-bed not made, but the tangle of bedclothes was strewn with pages of music, some of it printed, some handwritten, and Archie's guitar lay on top of it all. The guitar case was open on the kitchen table, and empty soda bottles and glasses littered the counter. The mess was clearly not Harley's alone. There were clothes, dirty socks, smelly sneakers, and wet towels strewn on the floor, along with a pair of men's ballet slippers and one tap shoe. A flowerpot filled with sand supported a dead branch festooned with tangles of equally dead honeysuckle where someone had been practicing weaving Elf Nets.

Thomas Timmons whipped out his pen and began making marks on the sheets of paper clipped to his board, clicking his tongue and shaking his head. Jake bit his lip to keep from laughing and led the way down the hall to Hal's room, and David and Q's, both of which made the living room look neat by comparison. He had decided to save the bathroom for last.

Chapter Thirty-three

W
hen E.D., Winston, and Destiny approached the parking area in the shadow of the barn, the barefoot campers and Cordelia were in a semicircle around Lucille doing tree pose. Lucille, Cordelia, and Samantha were each standing perfectly balanced on one leg, the other foot flat against the inside of the knee and their hands entwined above their heads, gazing raptly skyward. Nobody else had managed to look up. Most of them were teetering on one leg and waving their arms and hands in the air to try to maintain balance.

“Aunt Lucille, Aunt Lucille!” E.D. shouted. It was as if the sound knocked them all over. Even Lucille tipped sideways and stepped out of the pose. “There's a state inspector demanding to see the kitchen!”

“What? An inspector? Now? Good heavens, not the kitchen!”

“Jake took him off to the bunks first, but Mom needs help!”

“Cordelia!” Lucille said, pushing her feet into her flip-flops and snatching up her water bottle. “Can you finish the yoga session? Just do one sun salutation, I think.” She was off even before Cordelia could answer, running toward the Lodge.

“This is it,” E.D. told the others when she was sure her aunt was out of earshot. “He drove right up to the Lodge and identified himself as the state inspector. Has a fake ID and everything. Mom's freaking, Dad's furious. They have no idea, of course, that he isn't what he says he is. Jake's stalling him—letting him do his inspector act at the bunks. We have time to get ready, but we have to hurry. Have you got your camera, Harley?”

Harley grabbed it and held it up.

“Good. Destiny? Do you remember what you're supposed to do?”

“I'm the honeypot!” Destiny said. “For the bottom of the pit. 'Cept I gotta yell and yell.”

“Where's your life jacket?”

“We left it by the dock,” Ginger said, “so it would be there when we needed it.”

“I'll go get Wolfie,” Cinnamon said.

“Be sure to keep him out of sight—and leave him on his rope till we see if we need him. Destiny could be enough.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. We don't want to chase the guy away again.”

E.D. checked her watch. “I don't know how long it'll take for him to inspect the cottages. . . .”

“If Dogwood's as bad as ours, it'll take a while,” Q said.

“It's pretty bad,” Cordelia said. “I'll run over and lead him through it—pretend I'm afraid of what he's going to report. This is going to be fun.”

“There are still mouse turds in our room,” Ginger said. “Act as if you're trying to hide them so he'll be sure to notice.”

As Cordelia started away, E.D. called to her. “Tell Jake to beep my walkie-talkie when you're done at the cottages. You can say you'll take the guy to the pond before he goes back to inspect the kitchen. I'll meet you all on your way there.”

“Ten-four!”

“Everybody remember what you're supposed to do?” E.D. asked.

“Gee, no, we're all idiots,” David said.

That, E.D. thought, was enough. Hormones or no hormones, she was finished with David! What had she
ever
seen in him? “Let's go!”

“I gots to get my swimming suit!” Destiny said.

“No time for that. You can go in your pajamas,” E.D. told him.

“Head 'em up, move 'em out,” Q shouted.

“All for one and one for all,” Harley called as they started toward the pond.

Chapter Thirty-four

O
nce Cordelia arrived it got harder and harder for Jake to keep a straight face. She came tearing up the path and stood in front of the door of Dogwood Cottage with her arms folded across her chest. “You can't come in here,” she told the man. “We're not ready.”

“That is the point of an unannounced inspection,” the man said. His voice, Jake thought, had softened suddenly. Cordelia, in her yoga outfit, her hair curling damply around her face, was looking particularly gorgeous. “We need to see conditions as they really are, not as they've been fixed up to impress us.”

Cordelia, with a great show of reluctance, moved aside and let him open the door.

Jake hadn't been inside the girls' cottage since the first night of camp. Except that here it was Cordelia who slept on the foldout couch, the scene inside was much more like the boys' cottage than he would have guessed. If anything, it was worse, mostly because the girls seemed to have a lot more clothes. Blue and green shirts and shorts, sneakers and sandals, jeans and T-shirts and bathing suits were draped on furniture and lay in piles on the floor, along with a surprising number of Cordelia's skirts and blouses. In the midst of the clothes were Samantha's books—piled, strewn, and stacked everywhere.

“Normally, it's much neater than this,” Cordelia said, blushing slightly as she slipped some underwear under a blouse.

Thomas Timmons nodded. He seemed to be paying as much attention to Cordelia as to the mess he was inspecting. Alternating between jotting notes on the pages of his clipboard and using his pen to scratch his neck, he muttered “dreadful,” “appalling,” and “disgusting” under his breath. As he started down the hall, Cordelia whispered to Jake E.D.'s message about letting her know when they were finished here.

In the twins' room, Cordelia kept putting herself between Thomas Timmons and what he was trying to inspect as if she wanted to keep him from seeing something. Finally, he actually put out a hand and moved her, surprisingly gently, out of the way.

“Vermin!” he said triumphantly, pointing at the scattering of mouse droppings all along the baseboards and the small pile in the corner. “This cabin is infested with mice!”

“We're planning to get a cat!” Cordelia said, and Jake had to clamp a hand over his mouth and leave the room entirely.

When the man had taken more notes in the bathroom, which wasn't so much dirty, Jake thought, as incredibly cluttered with tubes and bottles and jars and various zippered bags, combs, and brushes covering every square inch of horizontal surface, they went out onto the porch and Jake pressed the key on his walkie-talkie that would let E.D. know they were coming. Cordelia asked what else the man needed to inspect.

“Everything, of course!” he said. “Except, perhaps the woods. I don't need to go hiking all over the whole sixteen acres.”

“Shall we take you to see the goat pen?” she asked innocently.

“I think not,” he said quickly. He made a show of flipping through the forms on his clipboard. “There is nothing in here about goat facilities.”

“Okay, then,” Cordelia said, starting down the path toward the pond. “We might as well take you to the pond. It's where we swim. Quite nice. Lovely clear water.”

“I'll be the judge of that,” the man said, following closely behind her.

“After that we'll take you back to the Lodge so you can inspect the kitchen,” Jake said, trailing along after them. “The campers should be gathering in the dining tent very soon for breakfast. This is a creativity camp. Tell him about our workshops, Cordelia. And the end-of-camp show we're planning.”

“End-of-camp show? I hope you haven't spent a lot of energy on that!” the man said. “It's highly likely, given what I've seen so far, that the department will decide to close this camp down.”

Cordelia yelped. “Close it down? Why? When? How?”

As the man talked, citing violation after violation, Cordelia led him on toward the pond until E.D. came hurtling up the path and crashed into them. She was out of breath, her face red and terrified.

“Oh, thank God. Come quick!” she yelled. “Destiny's fallen into the pond, and something's got him! I think it's a snapping turtle! The biggest one I've ever seen.” She looked up at Thomas Timmons, clearly distraught. “Oh, please, please come and help us save my little brother! Snapping turtles can bite through a grown man's leg. What'll it do to a five-year-old? I tried to reach him, but I couldn't! Maybe you can! But hurry! Oh, please! Hurry, hurry, hurry!”

She turned around and tore off down the path. The man ran after her, and Jake and Cordelia closed in behind. No doubt about it, Jake thought, E.D. was really good at improvisation! He almost believed her himself.

As they got closer to the pond, they could hear Destiny shrieking at the top of his lungs. “Oww! Owwwww! It gots my foot. It hurts! Help, help, help! Somebody help! Oooowwww!”

Winston was standing belly-deep in the pond, barking.

Ginger and Samantha were running back and forth along the edge of the pond screaming about the monster that had hold of Destiny. “It's huge!”

“Even with his life jacket, it could pull him under!”

“He'll drown!”

“Or maybe bleed to death!”

“Oh, help, help, help!”

Out just a little way beyond the end of the dock, Destiny was splashing frantically and continuing to yell.

E.D. ran out to the end of the dock, crouched down, and reached toward Destiny. “You need to get closer,” she shouted to him.

“I can't! Oooowwww! He gots me. I can't!”

Thomas Timmons threw down his clipboard, ran onto the dock, and moved E.D. out of his way. Then he knelt and stretched one arm toward Destiny, who went on screaming and splashing, still well out of reach. E.D. scuttled back off the dock as David and Q came running from the woods with the dock ropes they'd untied from the trees. Jake snatched away the ramp that led onto the dock while Cordelia, E.D., and the other two girls began shoving it out into the water. Harley came from the woods with his camera and started clicking one picture after another.

At the front of the dock Thomas Timmons, still focused entirely on the screaming and splashing in front of him, had taken off his suit jacket and was waving it at Destiny. “Here, here! Try to grab on to my jacket. If you can get it, I can pull you over.”

As the dock floated steadily toward him, Destiny, still yelling and splashing, managed to paddle steadily backward. The others had stopped pushing now, but Jake and Cordelia, up to their knees in muck, gave one last tremendous shove. Thomas Timmons, having finally reached Destiny's hand, dropped his suit jacket on the dock behind him and pulled Destiny around to the ladder as the dock floated completely away from the shore.

Destiny stopped yelling and climbed the ladder as the man got to his feet. “Thanks, oh thanks! The monster thingie letted me go!” he said. Then he pointed back toward the edge of the pond. “But we can't get back to the land anymore.”

It wasn't until then that Thomas Timmons discovered he'd been caught in a Heffalump trap.