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“No way,” said X-Ray. “The second hole’s a lot harder. You’re hurting before you even get started. If you think you’re sore now, just wait and see how you feel tomorrow morning, right?”
“That’s right,” said Squid.
“Plus, the fun’s gone,” said X-Ray.
“The fun?” asked Stanley.
“Don’t lie to me,” said X-Ray. “I bet you always wanted to dig a big hole, right? Am I right?”
Stanley had never really thought about it before, but he knew better than to tell X-Ray he wasn’t right.
“Every kid in the world wants to dig a great big hole,” said X-Ray. “To China, right?”
“Right,” said Stanley.
“See what I mean,” said X-Ray. “That’s what I’m saying. But now the fun’s gone. And you still got to do it again, and again, and again.”
“Camp Fun and Games,” said Stanley.
“What’s in the box?” asked Squid.
Stanley had forgotten he had brought it. “Uh, paper. I was going to write a letter to my mother.”
“Your mother?” laughed Squid.
“She’ll worry if I don’t.”
Squid scowled.
Stanley looked around the room. This was the one place in camp where the boys could enjoy themselves, and what’d they do? They wrecked it. The glass on the TV was smashed, as if someone had put his foot through it. Every table and chair seemed to be missing at least one leg. Everything leaned.
He waited to write the letter until after Squid had gotten up and joined the game of pool.
Dear Mom,
Today was my first day at camp, and I’ve already made some friends. We’ve been out on the lake all day, so I’m pretty tired. Once I pass the swimming test, I’ll get to learn how to water-ski. I
He stopped writing as he became aware that somebody was reading over his shoulder. He turned to see Zero, standing behind the couch.
“I don’t want her to worry about me,” he explained.
Zero said nothing. He just stared at the letter with a serious, almost angry look on his face.
Stanley slipped it back into the stationery box.
“Did the shoes have red X’s on the back?” Zero asked him.
It took Stanley a moment, but then he realized Zero was asking about Clyde Livingston’s shoes.
“Yes, they did,” he said. He wondered how Zero knew that. Brand X was a popular brand of sneakers. Maybe Clyde Livingston made a commercial for them.
Zero stared at him for a moment, with the same intensity with which he had been staring at the letter.
Stanley poked his finger through a hole in the vinyl couch and pulled out some of the stuffing. He wasn’t aware of what he was doing.
“C’mon, Caveman, dinner,” said Armpit.
“You coming, Caveman?” said Squid.
