Cartboy Goes to Camp (6 page)

 

The Pioneer Life

Dear Possible Owner of a Real Working Time Machine:

One thing I learned pretty quickly at Camp Jamestown is that 5:45
A.M.
means 5:45
A.M.

And not a minute later.

D
OO
  D
O
  D
O
  L
OOO
!

The sound of Mr. Prentice's gourd nearly knocked me out of my bunk.

Vinny, Scot, Perth, and I stumbled out of bed and followed Theo to the dining hall. I was pretty surprised we made it there. Considering our eyes were half-closed. And Perth had put his shoes on the wrong feet.

We sat at a long wooden table, next to a bunch of girls from Cabin 6, and looked around to see what we were going to eat. I was hoping for something hot and yummy. Like a waffle with whipped cream. Or a cinnamon Dunk-a-Roo.

But breakfast was just like the rest of camp.

I sat there wondering if it was legal to serve kids glue, when suddenly I heard a voice in my ear.

“Cartboy, get me some food.”

And then, another voice.

“Shee if you can find shum shaushages shumwhere.”

I looked up to see not just Ryan, but another kid standing next to him. The kid was even bigger than Ryan, and he was missing about five teeth.

“And shhhhtep on it, Cartboy,” he said.

I tapped Vinny on the shoulder and pointed behind me. “Who's that?”

“Ninth-grader. Billy Bendigan. They call him Billy the Bully.”

“What happened to his teeth?”

“I heard he lost them in a fight at school. Apparently it involved two fists, a rolled-up gym towel, and an algebra textbook. Let's just say you do not want anything to do with him.”

Ryan shoved his plate in my face. “Get goin', Cartboy.”

I walked to the other side of the dining room, filled up Billy's and Ryan's plates, and brought them back to their table.

“Ooh, thank you, Cartboy,” said Ryan in a fake, singsongy voice. “I really wish I could have gotten it myself. But, ouch, my ankle hurts sooo much.”

With that, Ryan and Billy fell on themselves laughing.

Ryan and Billy stopped laughing when Mr. Prentice appeared at the dining hall door.

He was wearing the same wool coat as the day before, and he had the gourd tucked under his arm. “Good morrow, Jamestown settlers!” he yelled. “Two minutes till thy first activity! Gather ye in the clearing.”

All the kids finished eating and walked over to the far side of the clearing. There was a pile of logs about ten feet high, and Mr. Prentice was standing in front of it.

“Now,” he said, grabbing a log off the pile. “Who can tell me the first thing the settlers did when they arrived in Jamestown, Virginia?”

Once again, for reasons I can't begin to understand, he pointed right at me. “Mr. Rifkind. What do you think the settlers did first?”

“Um, went to the bathroom?”

“Try again.”

“Took a nap?”

“No.”

“Had a snack?”

“Mother of Moccasins! Mr. Rifkind, the answer is build shelters! The settlers needed a place to live. So they cut down trees to make wood for their cabins. Today, ye shall do the same.”

While the counselors handed out axes, Mr. Prentice explained how the settlers made their homes.

“They used a system called wattle and daub,” he said. “The wattle was a frame made of thin strips of wood. The daub was the wall, made of soil and clay. A thick wooden frame held the wattle and daub together.”

Theo handed out a few axes and started going over the rules of ax safety. He told us we needed to hold the ax at arm's length at all times. And keep the sheath on when we weren't using it. But I was hardly listening.

I was watching Cora pull a piece of wood off the pile. Judging by the size of her biceps, I was pretty sure she could wattle and daub a baseball stadium.

Once again, Cora saw me looking at her. Except this time, she took it as a sign to
walk up to me
and start
talking.

“I wish the guy who built my cabin had known how to cut wood straight. It's like the Tunnel of Wind at Great Adventure,” she said.

“Except you don't have to wait on line for ninety minutes.”

Cora stepped even
closer
to me. “I'm guessing this is your first time here. I could show you how to chop wood. Seeing as how you're a rookie and all.”

“N-no thanks. I'm good. A good axer. Excellent chopper. First-rate.”

“Great. Let's have a race. On your mark, get set, go!”

Cora grabbed some logs and raised her ax. With no other choice, I did the same. And before I knew it, there was a lot of fast and furious chopping.

CHOP  CHOP  CHOP

CHOP  CHOP  CHOP

CHOP  CHOP  CHOP

Sadly, it was all done by Cora.

My ax pretty much got stuck in a log on the first swing. I never did get it out.

After a couple of hours, Mr. Prentice came by to check on our progress. He examined Cora's nicely cut logs, piled in a neat stack.

“Four hats for thee!”

Mr. Prentice walked over to me and took a look at my ax stuck in the log. “Jesus, Brother of Crispus” was all he managed to say.

I could tell the number of hats he'd be giving me.

O

After Mr. Prentice left, Theo walked up and put his hand on my shoulder. “Next time, why don't you use your dad's ax, Hal? The one in your camp pack. It's a beauty. Looks like it's been in your family for generations.”

Theo started talking about the importance of family heirlooms. A good ten minutes went by, and he was still explaining why his grandfather's feathered cap was “irreplaceable.” Luckily, I was saved by the gourd.

D
OO
  D
O
  D
O
  L
OOO
!

It was time for lunch.

This time, I walked into the dining room, sized up the situation, and sat as far away from Ryan and Billy as I could. For one thing, I wasn't going to spend the whole time fetching them food. And the other, lunch was beans and corn, and I knew what that meant.

BEANS AND CORN + BILLY'S TEETH + TALK
= MY FACE COVERED IN FOOD

Vinny and Scot grabbed some lunch and sat down next to me. “Did you hear the news?” asked Vinny in a quiet voice. “Today's afternoon activity is digging for artifacts. We can look for the treasure.”

“We're gonna be rich, I can feel it,” said Scot. “I'm thinking front-row seats for the One Direction concert—”

FAARRT.

We looked up to see Perth standing by our table, adjusting his pants. “Ooof,” he said. “Whatever they served for breakfast clogged up the pipes pretty good.”

“Maybe lunch will be better?” I asked Perth, holding up a plate of beans.

Perth's answer was quick and to the point.

FAARRRRRT.

By the time we time finished eating, got our shovels, and waited for Perth to use the bathroom, it was already midafternoon.

We had to hurry to the back of the museum. And dig as fast as we could.

We dug and dug and dug. After three hours, not only did we
not
find the treasure, but we didn't find any colonial artifacts either. And the whole time we had to listen to the
squeals of joy
as the other campers uncovered all kinds of stuff from the 1600s.