Cartboy Goes to Camp (17 page)

Scot and Perth went back to watching the bonfire. So I took the opportunity to whisper in Vinny's ear.

“I need to talk to you. I think the B. E. stands for bald eagle. Not big elm.”

Vinny and I left the bonfire and walked behind a tree so nobody could hear us. I told Vinny how I got the idea when I was watching a waitress at the diner. How I remembered that the bald eagle was sacred to the Powhatan Indians.

“Even if the pearls are five hundred feet west of a bald eagle's nest,” Vinny said, “how would we ever find it? There are a million trees here that could have had a bald eagle's nest at the top.”

“Maybe we can figure it out.”

“The bonfire is almost over. There's no time left…”

“I know. Let's think. Quickly. Where would a bald eagle's nest have been?”

“Well…”

CRUNCH CRUNCH.

“Shhh. I hear footsteps,” I said. “Someone's coming.”

“Shhh? Why shhh? What are you guys talking about?”

It was Cora. She walked right up to us and dropped the butter churner at my feet.

“What bald eagle nest?” she said.

Vinny and I stood there, staring at Cora, not sure of what to say.

“What nest? What are you guys talking about?”

“Maybe we should tell her, Vinny,” I said. “Maybe she can help.”

Vinny nodded, so I took that as a yes.

“Okay,” I said. “Here's the thing. Since the day camp started, we've been looking for a buried treasure. Vinny and I found some clues. But we need to figure out where a bald eagle's nest would have been in the 1600s.”

Unfortunately, Cora looked completely stumped.

“We figured the nest would have been at the top of a tall pine tree,” I said.

“They're all tall,” said Cora.

“True.”

Cora, Vinny, and I stood there in silence. Mystified. Beyond any chance of figuring it out.

From where we were standing behind the tree, you could hear the camp singing songs around the bonfire. After a few more songs, the bonfire would be over. Our last chance to search would come to an end.

“You know what?” I said. “This is too hard. It's a needle in a haystack. A wild goose chase. A million-to-one—”

“Hold on,” said Cora. “I just thought of something. When I was little, my great-grandmother was always telling me stories about the Powhatans. Stories that had been handed down for generations.”

Cora looked up at the trees all around us. “There was this one story. About a bald eagle who had built a nest at the top of the tallest tree in Jamestown. Legend had it, Chief Powhatan would put gifts for the bald eagle at the bottom of the tree.”

“Okay. But how can we know which tree was the tallest back in 1607?”

“My great-grandmother said the tree was next to a square-shaped rock.”

“In all your digging over the years, Vinny, you didn't happen to come across a square-shaped rock, did you?” I asked.

“No. Wait. Yes! There's a square rock right outside our cabin!”

“Thanks, Cora,” I said. “You saved us. We gotta go, now. We have to dig.”

“Wait. I'll go with you. We'll find the pearls faster together.”

I may not have become an expert pioneer at Camp Jamestown. But at least I learned something in the past two weeks:

You don't say no to Cora.

I ran inside Cabin 2, grabbed my shovel, and headed toward the door. Just before I stepped outside, I noticed something standing in the corner, by my bed.

My dad's old ax.

It was rusty. Heavy as a boulder. And as old as dirt.

But still, I grabbed it. Which if you think about it, was a pretty dumb thing to do. Why would I need an ax to dig?

There was no reason. Except that maybe I just wanted something from home.

I caught up with Vinny and Cora about five hundred feet west of the square rock. It was just past the back of the museum. Just past where we had been searching all along.

The three of us dug as fast as our arms could move.

“Hurry!” I said.

We dug to the left. We dug to the right. We dug up, down, and everywhere, but—nothing.

Even Cora looked exhausted.

We could hear the whole camp singing the last song of the night. It was a good-bye song. About how much “we're all gonna miss each other.”

I was so tired and mad and defeated, I slammed my shovel into the ground. “Let's just forget it,” I said.

And that's when I hit something hard. So hard, my shovel made a loud
THONK.

Cora bent over and frantically pulled away the loose dirt. There, buried a few feet underground, was an old wooden box.

“Look,” said Cora. “There's a carving of Chief Powhatan on the top.”

We pulled the box out of the ground and took a closer look. “It's locked!” she said. “Good thing you brought that ax.”

!

The ax! I grabbed it off the ground and tried to raise it above my head. “Hnnnhhhh…”

“Wait, Hal. Before you open the box, there's something I want to tell you.”

And then, Cora leaned in. And by that, I mean
leaned in.
Right toward my
face.
The way they always do during the mushy part of movies my mom watches on the Lifetime channel.

“Smoochy smoochy smoochy,”
said a deep gravelly voice behind us.

I turned to face Ryan.

“I've been looking all over for you, Cartboy,” he said. “Looks like you found my treasure.”

Right then and there, I decided I wasn't going to back up. Or run away. Or give him what he wanted.

Instead, I was finally going to stand up to Ryan Horner.

The only problem: He was six feet tall. And I was practically a midget. He was gonna tear me apart the same way Wolfie did last fall. When Ryan and his buddies threw me in his pen.

Ryan put his puffy face right in front of mine. “So you need a girl to help you dig? What's the matter, Cartboy? Too scared out here by yourself?”

“Leave her out of this,” I said.

“Oooh. Whatcha gonna do? Hit me with your rusty old ax?”

“You think you can make fun of my dad's ax?”

And then I did what any small kid with zero practical fighting experience would do.

I jumped on Ryan Horner's
back.

Ryan tried to throw me off, but I squeezed his neck hard. “And another thing, Horner. For your information, it
wasn't me
who tattletaled on you.”

“Oh, sure. Then who was it?”

“Maybe it was one of your so-called friends. Like Warren.”

“Yeah, right.”

“I saw him talking to Mr. Tupkin after school that day. Warren. Not me.”

The truth is I was kind of guessing on the whole Warren thing. I had no idea if it was Warren, or another kid, or nobody. But something I said must have struck a chord with Ryan. Because just for a second, he loosened his grip.

“Cora, get the pearls!” I shouted.

Cora grabbed the box and started to run. Before she could get anywhere, Ryan tackled her like a
pit bull.

I ran to Cora, but as soon as I got there, Ryan yanked the box out of her hands. He started to take off.