Cartboy Goes to Camp (14 page)

“Extra what?”

“Extra weight. To make the teams more even. We can each take something from my duffel bag and put it inside our clothes.”

I pulled the gear out of my giant bag and laid some of it on the floor.

“That is the stupidest idea ever,” Vinny said. “Even if we could carry all that stuff, how would we hide it?”

“What if we wear long pants and shirts? And put everything underneath?”

The guys just sat there and stared at me.

“Here, let me try,” I said, pulling some pants and shirts out of the bottom of my pack.

The flashlight slid inside one of the pants legs pretty easily. But I had to really cram the shovel into the other leg.

“It looks lumpy,” said Scot. “How are you going to bend your legs? How are you going to keep that stuff from falling out?”

“I happen to have just the thing.”

I reached around in my bag until my hand landed on something small and tight. With an elastic waistband.

“I have a whole pack of these underwear,” I said. “They'll fit like the skin on a grape.”

I could tell the guys were not convinced. But we had no other ideas. And it was time to go.

D
OO
  D
OO
  L
OOT
!

Vinny sighed. “Okay, let's do it,” he said.

The tug-of-war was going to be held in the middle of the clearing. Which wasn't too far from our cabin. But still, the trip felt pretty long.

The whole way there, I was sweating buckets because of the long sleeves and pants. Not to mention the
thirty pounds
of metal objects an inch from my kiwis.

But for the first time since we got to camp, I felt something I hadn't felt before. I think Vinny, Scot, and Perth felt it too.

Confidence.

We reached the clearing just as Theo and some of the other counselors finished spreading out the rope.

Half of it was on one side of a line. Half of it on the other.

“Whoever goes over the line first loses,” said one of the counselors. He straightened out the rest of the rope, then stood to the side, next to the families and the other campers who had gathered in the clearing.

“Good luck, Hal.”

I turned to see Cora standing next to me.

“I really hope you win.”

CLANK!

“What was that noise?” she asked.

“Nothing.”

CLANK CLANK

She looked down at my shirt and pants. “It sounded like metal…”

“Oh, um, that's my belt. Buckle. Yeah, it's pretty loose. Gotta go fix it. See ya!”

I walked through the crowd of kids and families and ended up right next to Mr. Prentice.

He was getting ready to announce the tug-of-war. And figure out which cabins would compete against each other.

“Hear ye. Hear ye,” he said. “As many of ye know, the game tug-of-war was very special to the Jamestown settlers. Why? Well, times were tough. Tug-of-war was a way to let off steam.”

He lifted one end of the rope. “The settlers played tug-of-war because they had plenty of rope from the ships. Anyone could participate. And of course, the zip line had not yet been invented.”

Mr. Prentice chuckled at his joke for a good five minutes before he pulled himself together. He picked up a Pilgrim hat and held it up for everyone to see.

“Each cabin shall pick a colored piece of paper from this hat. Matching colors will compete against each other. Cabin One, please step up.”

Ryan Horner stepped forward, reached into the hat, and pulled out a piece of paper.

“Green!” Mr. Prentice shouted. “Cabin two, ye shall pick next.”

Mr. Prentice held the hat toward me. I reached in, grabbed a piece of the paper, and held it up for him to see.

“Green!”

“It is decided, then. Cabin One against Cabin Two. Ye shall go first!”

“But, Mr. Prentice,” I said. “Ryan and Billy and their bunkmates are huge. Way huger than us. It's unfair!”

“'Tis no more unfair, Mr. Rifkind, than having to harvest nonexistent crops during a bitter cold winter.” He took a step toward me. “Achhh. In these dang shoes.”

Vinny, Scot, Perth, and I took our places on the rope across from Ryan, Billy, and the other two gigantors from Cabin 1.

On the sidelines, my mom was waving like crazy, and Grampa Janson gave me two thumbs up. “Go Cabin Two!” they yelled.

Mr. Prentice lifted the gourd high in the air. “On your mark…”

I looked at the gourd, then turned to face Ryan, who was staring
daggers
right through me. “Where are my pearls, Cartboy?” he said. And then, before I could answer, “You are going down.”

Mr. Prentice lifted the gourd higher. “Get set!”

I quickly reached in my underwear to secure the shovel and the flashlight. Then I steeled myself on the rope.

And then came Mr. Prentice's last command. “Goeth!”

Right away, Vinny, Scot, Perth, and I started pulling. And pulling. And grunting. And sweating. And clanging.

While we were pulling, the strangest thing happened: We were actually holding our own.

Ryan and Billy and their bunkmates were holding on to their side of the rope. But they weren't pulling hard. In fact, they didn't seem to be pulling at all.

What were they doing? Was Ryan going to let us win? Did he feel guilty about the desserts? Had seeing my family changed his mind about being so mean to me?

That must be it!

“Okay, guys,” I said to my team. “Hang in there and pull. We have this in the bag—”

That's when I saw Ryan turn to his bunkmates, move his lips, and form one tiny little word:
“HEAVE!”

And then, before we could do anything, another:

“HO!”

They yanked the rope with everything they had. A second later, Scot, Perth, Vinny, and I were way up in the air. Heading straight over the line in the middle.

The funny thing is, I always wondered what it would be like to fly. And today, I got to find out. It's kind of fun. Being high in the air.

Until you crash to the ground with a rib-crushing
BONK!