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His secret was his confidence and his smile. He was always cool, even in the heat of Green Lake. When he smiled, it made it you feel that everything would be all right.
He didn’t need to be tough. He had Armpit and Squid by his side. They would do his dirty work for him if necessary, but it was hardly ever necessary. It seemed everyone wanted to stay on X-Ray’s good side.
Part of it was survival. I knew that if I was going to survive Camp Green Lake, I couldn’t have X-Ray mad at me. But it was more than that. When I did something for him, he would smile his great smile, look me right in the eye, and say, “Thanks, Caveman. You’re a good guy.” He made me feel cool and confident, too.
He would do things for you – get you an extra piece of bread or a clean pair of socks. Of course, X-Ray never did anything for anybody unless he got something for himself, too. Like the time he saved Zigzag from the B-tent boys and got everyone in D tent an extra carton of orange juice.
The B-tent boys were a couple of years older than us, and they were some of the meanest and toughest guys in camp. One of them was named Thlump, and he was even crazier than Zigzag. I think at one time his name was The Lump, but it turned into one word.
There was a boom box in the Wreck Room. It was a combination radio, cassette player, and CD player, but we were out of range of any radio station, and we didn’t have any cassettes. Thlump owned the only CD in camp. It was the first CD put out by the Backstreet Boys. Now, I had always thought only twelve-year-old girls liked the Backstreet Boys, but this was Thlump’s lifeline.
Don’t get me wrong. I’ve got nothing against the Backstreet Boys. I’m sure lots of people like their music, but after you’ve heard the same CD over and over and over again, day after day after day, it becomes a kind of torture. There was one song, “If You Want It to Be Good Girl (Get Yourself a Bad Boy),” which he’d sometimes play five times in a row, while he and his buddies sang along with the chorus.
That was the song that was playing when suddenly Zigzag got up from the floor, walked over to them, and said, “You mind turning that down? I’m trying to watch Ally McBeal.”
About that time, the chorus kicked in and they all started singing along. So Ziggy reached over and turned off the music. The entire room became instantly quiet, not just the Backstreet Boys.
Thlump wrapped his big hand over Zigzag’s face and pressed his head against the wall. “You’re dead,” he whispered.
X-Ray instantly eased himself between Thlump and two of his goons. “Hey, guys,” he said calmly.
“Stay away, X-Ray,” Thlump warned. “I don’t want to hurt you, too.”
X-Ray showed no sign of fear. “How would you like some new tunes?” he asked.
Thlump still held Zigzag. “You’re loonier than your friend,” he said.
“What kinda new tunes?” asked one of the goons.
“What do you want?” X-Ray asked.
Thlump let go of Zigzag. “How you gonna get new tunes way out here?”
“I got connections,” said X-Ray. “But it’s going to cost you.”
“It’s going to cost me?” asked Thlump. “You’re lucky I don’t kill you and your friend.”
“A week’s worth of orange juice,” X-Ray said. “From you and everyone in B tent.”
The B-tenters looked at each other, then back at X-Ray.
“Can you get the Backstreet Boys’ second CD?” Thlump asked.
Everyone in the Wreck Room groaned.
X-Ray smiled.
I don’t know how he did it, but two days later X-Ray brought them their CD, and for the next three days, we all got an extra carton of orange juice. It was supposed to be for a week, but after three days, X-Ray told the B-tenters they didn’t have to pay anymore. I was disappointed, but who was I to complain? At least I got extra orange juice for a few days, and got to hear some new music, sort of.
Of course we didn’t get the extra orange juice for nothing. We each had to give X-Ray half a piece of bread, but it was still a great deal for us.
I saw X-Ray last week. He lives in Lubbock. “He’s in his room doing his homework,” his mother told me, then pointed the way. “And remind him I’m still waiting for him to take out the garbage.”
X-Ray’s door was open. I could see him at his desk, which was covered with books and paper. He mumbled something about Angle C.
“X-Ray,” I said.
He turned. “Caveman! Good to see you.”
