Cartboy Goes to Camp (5 page)

He pointed to a run-down-looking cabin at the edge of camp, near some dark and creepy woods. Behind the cabin, a hammock was tied between two trees.

The sun was starting to set, and the tree branches cast so many black shadows over the hammock, it looked like a
horror
movie.

“One last thing,” said Ryan, pulling my collar up to my chin. “If you tell anyone, I'll give you another wedgie. And this time, your underwear is going to come out your ears.”

Ryan loosened his grip on my collar. I took that as a sign to get out of there. Fast.

I ran all the way to Cabin 2 without stopping once. Even though I was shaking like a wet poodle and my old-lady cart was squeaking behind me the entire way.

I sprinted inside the cabin door and sat on the first bunk bed I saw. I must have been shaking pretty hard because Scot leaned over the top bunk and said, “What's the matter, Hal?”

“N-nothing. It's just that, I ran into a big, ugly, hairy, um … spider.”

“Did you touch it?” he asked, holding out the Purell.

“If it makes you feel any better, Hal, I'm scared of spiders too.” Perth was unpacking his bag onto the bottom bunk next to mine. “Spiders, ants, beetles. Just looking at a bug gives me diarrhea.”

He placed a pile of NightTime diapers on the table between our beds. “Feel free to borrow them if you like.”

I sat there trying to catch my breath, and for the first time, I had a look around Cabin 2.

The ceiling and floors were made of splintery, jagged logs, and the walls were some sort of combination of dirt and sticks. Mostly, the whole cabin was so old, you could practically see through the cracks to the outside.

Let's just say it was pretty breezy in there.

I spotted Vinny in the corner, sitting on the floor with his map. He looked up at Scot, Perth, and me. “You're all going to need to calm down,” he said. “You need your nerves for the treasure hunt.”

“Treasure?” yelled Scot.

“What treasure?” asked Perth.

“It was buried by Mr. Prentice's ancestor, Sam Prentice,” Vinny said.

“You mean the guy who first came here off the ship?” asked Scot.

“Yes. I found a page of his diary in the camp museum a few years ago. He buried pearls so he could use them to trade with the Indians.”

Vinny pointed to a spot on the map, behind the Museum of Colonial Artifacts. “I‘ve searched the whole camp, except this one place. The treasure
has
to be buried there.”

“I've got a brand-new shovel,” said Scot, pointing to his camp pack. “Count me in. The first thing I'm buying with the treasure money is tickets to One Direction.”

“I'm in too,” Perth said to Vinny. “I've got a whole list of stuff I want to buy. Three-speed bike, mood ring, Rainbow Loom, Pop Rocks, Fiddle Faddle, Double Stuf Oreos…”

Perth listed about a thousand things, and the whole time he was talking, he was rubbing his stomach. When he finished his list, he let go a huge
fart.
“Ooof. Maybe a little Pepto too,” he said.

Meanwhile, I sat there listening. And seeing the profits
diminishing
before my eyes.

I sat down next to Vinny and whispered in his ear. “What about all the money? If we let Scot and Perth hunt with us, we'll have to divide it by four. I don't know about you, but I'm guessing one quarter of a scooter is not that easy to ride.”

“I hear you, Hal,” said Vinny. “Dividing the treasure four ways will be less money for us. And Scot and Perth do seem a little, um, high-strung. But this time, I'm not going home without it. We need all the help we can get.”

I had to admit, Vinny had a point. We didn't have much time to hunt. There were so many activities and chores.

“So what do you say, guys?” said Vinny. “All in for the treasure hunt?”

Scot, Perth, Vinny, and I made a four-way handshake. “Let's just make sure no one else knows,” I said. “It'll be our secret—”

“Sorry I'm late.”

We all turned to see Theo walk into the cabin. “I was helping that Ryan Horner kid. I guess he hurt his foot.”

Theo put his duffel bag on one of the beds. “Shouldn't you guys be unpacking?”

Everyone emptied their bags, and Cabin 2 suddenly looked like the camping aisle at Denby's, filled with brand-new sleeping bags, LED flashlights, and shiny titanium mess kits and tools and shovels.

With no other choice, I grabbed the bottom of my bag and tried to turn it upside down. Theo must have seen how heavy it was, because he jumped in to help.

“Sorry, Theo,” I said, attempting to pick up my dad's leaden ax and Grampa Janson's “World War II Edition” flashlight.

“No worries. Looks like you've got some nice antiques in there.”

“If by antiques you meant stuff that's been in my family since the dinosaur age, then yes.”

“I've got a family heirloom too.” Theo reached in his bag and pulled out an old feathered cap. “This was my grandfather's. It's irreplaceable.”

“Are you sure? Because I saw one just like it in the costume section at Bargain Basement.”

“Ha. You're funny, Hal.”

The thing is, I wasn't trying to be funny. I just didn't see how a dusty old cap could be so valuable. Especially one with a hole in the top. And loose threads everywhere.

While everyone put most of their gear under their beds, Theo explained that we would have to get up around 6
A.M.
for breakfast. And that we needed to start practicing for Pioneer Day right away.

Then he told us how it works.

“Up to six points are awarded for each activity. But instead of points, Mr. Prentice uses little Pilgrim hats. A few of the activities, like the bow-and-arrow contest and the tug-of-war, are worth up to six hats. The cabin with the most hats wins.”

Theo quickly unpacked his duffel bag and lay down in his bed. “We better get some sleep,” he said.

“Do we really have to get up at six?” I asked.

“No.”

“Oh good,” I said with a big sigh of relief.

“Mr. Prentice blows the gourd at five forty-five
A.M.
”