Dust Storm: Chapters 13-19

The Pit, 5:46 PM, Saturday

Chapter 13

Strength and Strife

BOOMP!

Vincent’s going mad on these kids, once we got down there, there were only three guys left. Vin’s sweating bullets, but he just keeps going, he’s like Muhammad Ali and Mike Tyson combined, he’s fast and he hits like a freight train. It’s mad, kids’re barely touching the ball, they’re just running away from Vin. Jorge hits the ball.

BOOMP!

“Shit! I scraped my damn knuckles on the dirt again! I’ve already done this once this week dammit!” His knuckles gush out blood and it drips down on the dusty floor. The dark red liquid dyes the ground. He wipes his knuckles on his shirt, leaving a gory splotch across his green shirt. His hands covered in red, he hits the ball. With a bloody stain, the ball flies across The Pit, hitting a kid in the shin.

“Ugh, I don’t want any immigrant blood on me.”

Jorge was Mexican and German, and he got a lot of shit for it. He looks Mexican, but he sounds slightly German, he’s been taking shit for years. His solution is beating them up, but now, that’s not acceptable.

“Hey! You’re disqualified, young man. We don’t tolerate racism at our camp. I’ll deal with you once this game’s over.” The Clipboard says as he marks off a name on his list. He swears under his breath.

“At least I don’t look like Shaggy from Scooby-Doo.” Jorge mutters under his breath. I hold back a heavy laugh.

“Hey, Clipboard! Whatcha gonna do to that kid?”

“I’ll have a strict talk on how racism is not acceptable at camp.”

“Good, serves the dumbass right.”

“What’d you say, Gridger?”

“Oh, nothing, Clipboard.”

Jorge taps the ball toward Vincent, they start a kill circle. Vin taps the ball and then Jorge, and then Vin. They slowly make their way over to the last kid. He screams,

“I forfeit, them’s scary fellas. I ain’t tryna mess 'round with them!”

He jumps outside of The Pit. His teammate glares at him, and he hangs his head in shame. Vin and Jorge walk over to The Clipboard. I overhear a 457 boy.

“We gotta find a way to get those kids to stop winnin’. We gotta call up Roy. He’ll put ‘em in their place.”

Shit. I know damn well you don’t mess around with a Leroy. Some of ‘em are meaner than junkyard dogs. “Sensei, please teach me how to eliminate the enemy.” I bow down to Vincent.

“Pfft. That was nothing. I did that all the time back home.”

“Back home? When?”

“Camp Beaginko. A real backwoods camp near Placerville.”

“Sounds like a nerd camp.”

“Shut up, Soggs.”

We walk down to the pool. It’s next to a few campsites. We walk up to the tall, metal fence. “It’s quite the pool, dontcha think? I think open swim’s tonight. You boys wanna try it out?” Connor says, pointing to a poster stapled against the wooden pavilion next to the pool. He lifts the paper up,

“Says it’s from six thirty to seven thirty.”

“I don’t have anything until stargazing in the parade field. It’s recommended for astronomy merit badge.” Vincent says. The rest of the guys nod their heads. Then we notice.

Jorge’s not with us.

“Where’s Jorge?”

“I betcha he’s talkin’ to the girl at the post.” Connor sneers.

“Hey! Let’s go see if he is. It’d be a sight to see.” Seán says.

“Shit, Seán. I didn’t see you. You using some ‘a that lucky magic?” Connor jokes.

“Let’s just head over, anyone got a camera?”

Vin pulls out his Polaroid.

“Sweet.”

Trading Post, 6:19 PM, Saturday

Chapter 14

Falling

“What a goof. He ain’t got a clue what he’s doing.”

We watch Jorge “shoot his shot” through the window of the post. He’s red and so is she. They’re both twiddling their thumbs and stuttering when they talk. Vincent takes a picture through the window.

The flash goes off.

We duck down. Vincent pulls down Connor.

“Vin! What the hell?” I say through my teeth.

“Chill, man. It’s not a big deal.” He turns the flash off and takes a blind shot, raising the camera up the window.

“Alright, they aren’t looking.”

We uncrouch from the ground and continue watching Jorge be a bad flirt. We hear his shaky voice.

“S-so w-what do you do o-over the s-summer?”

“O-oh, I usually stay home back in the El D-dorado Hills.”

“H-hey! I’m from a-around there. We should…”

“Meetup! Right? That’s what I was thinking!”

Jorge trails off and shakily puts an Ale8 down. She grabs it from his hand, and just gives it back to him. She leans over to his ear.

“It’s on the house. sweetheart.”

We burst out laughing. Vincent can’t keep the camera still. He snaps a few photos and we just fall to the ground. They both look at eachother and blush. The girl walks to the back, but Jorge is mad. He throws the door open.

“Oh, shit, guys. Jorge’s gonna get on our arses if we don’t get outta here.” Seán says as he gets up and starts to run down the trail. We follow him and so does Jorge.

“Hey! Get back here you, you dumbfucks!” he shouts as he runs down the trail.

I’m the one behind everyone, but soon everyone is gone. I just keep running. Vincent yanks my shirt from around the corner of the post. He puts his finger to his lips.

We see Jorge run down the trail, still shouting. “That was close, who knows what coulda happened if he caught us?” Connor said, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Well, hey. Let’s go see her! Let’s go talk to the girl.” Seán says.

“I dunno, Seán.” Vincent says, unsure of the idea.

“We can act normal, we just don’t be dicks about the interaction.” I say.

We walk into the post and we all grab an Ale8.

“Oh, damn. They got all these new flavors. They must’ve restocked. We see orange cream, cherry, and blackberry.

“Hey man, don’t get the blackberry, blackberry flavored shit always tastes like cough syrup.” I say, grabbing an orange cream.

“Oh, shut up, Soggs. You don’t know what tastes good.” Connor grabs a blackberry. We walk up to the counter and ring the bell.

Ding!

“Coming!” we hear from the back.

She opens the door and her face shifts from happy to bummed out.

“Whaddya want?”

“Just these please, and a word.” Seán says pretty much beneath the counter.

“Shut up, Lucky. We just wanna know whatcha think ‘bout that kid.”

“You, y-you jerks can fuck off! I ain’t done this before.”

“That don’t mean ya gotta be embarrassed ‘bout ya first time.” Connor elbows me. I scoff. “Ignore him, we’s just curious, that’s all.”

“Well, bug off. I’m not saying nothin’. I’m not admitting I like ‘im.”

She puts her hand over her mouth. She runs to the back. “Go to hell! You bastards!”

We chuckle and we realize we hadn’t paid. Vin slams four dollars on the counter, and he pulls out a tape recorder. He clicks the side button, and it plays.

“That don’t mean ya gotta be embarrassed ‘bout ya first time.”

“Ignore him, we’s just curious, that’s all.”

“Well, bug off. I’m not saying nothin’. I’m not admitting I like ‘im.”

“I cut it off after that, but that’s all we need, it’s all Jorge needs. He’ll thank us eventually.” Vin says. We all start clapping for him, none of us had even seen, let alone known that Vincent had a tape recorder.

“Come on, guys. Let’s go tell him, he’s probably down at The Pit.”

We walk out the door, and we see him, waiting.

“What the hell, guys?! I was tryna shoot my shot and you just made fun of me?! What the fuck?”

“Hey, calm down, Knuckles. We got somethin’ that might cheer ya up.”

Vin hands him the tape recorder, and he plays it. I swear, the look on his face, red, shock, flustered. It’s weird seeing him this way, considering he’s usually so gung ho all the damn time.

“Sh-she likes me? I… I can’t believe it.” He falls over, his body drops. The breath comes out of him.

“Let’s bring him back to camp, either grab a foot or a hand.” I say.

We pick him up and start to walk back to camp.

Campsite 1, 7:28 PM, Saturday

Chapter 15

Prints

“How long was I out?”

“You were out for ‘bout an hour. Long enough to miss dinner, that barbeque was like heaven.”

Jorge woke up a few minutes ago and we’re informing him on what happened. He rubs his head, I would imagine it hurt after hitting it on the gravel.

“Whoa! Was, was I bleeding?” His head is covered in somewhat soaked bandages.

“Yea, it looked like you hit your head pretty hard, considering you’re so far up from the ground.” Jack says, he was the one who did it anyway. He was tall, and so was Jorge. Both of ‘em were over six feet tall.

“Someone was here. Some things at the picnic table were shifted, thrown around. Someone was looking for something.” Jack says as he fills up his mug. He drinks some bug juice and continues, “Ya think one ‘a them 457 boys were looking fer somethin’. Like a document?”

“Was no one here guardian’ camp? Usually an adult or Quincy is back at camp after classes end.” I say.

“Huh?” Quincy groans as he wakes up from sleeping. “What did I miss?” He rubs his face and head, rustling his blonde curls.

“Quincy, wake your ass up. D’you see anything here at camp between four and seven?”

“Nah, I was sleepi-”

“Yea, yea. You was sleeping.” Jack says as he rubs his chin. It was always strange seeing Jack think, it was like seeing a detective tryna figure out a clue. We all think, just wondering who could have done this, and why.

And then it hit me.

Leroy.

Those boys said they would call him up, that they would get him to camp, that they would put us in our place.

“That’s it!” I shout aloud.

“What’d ya figure out, Soggs?” Connor says, the rest of them ask me.

“These kids said earlier today that they were gonna call up this kid, Roy. I think they were from 457. He sounded like a big and tough guy, so maybe he did it.”

They all think, and so do I. How could we get dirt on this guy?

Bronson walks up to us.

“Hey boys, they’re offering fingerprinting merit badge up at the trading post. It’s a fairly simple merit badge. I highly recommend you attend it. They even got one of them machines that recognizes your fingerprints.”

We all look at each other, smirking. We knew what we needed to do.

“Sure Mr. Bronson, we’ll head up there, it sounds fun, real fun.” I say still looking at my friends.

“Well, you better hurry. It starts in a few minutes.”

7:43

“See ya, Mr. Bronson!” We sprint off through our campsite dodging tents. We go over the game plan.

“Alright, Vin, I know damn well you can sneak anythin’ into ya pockets, and Jorge, make some kinda distraction, you’re good at that. Jack, act like a guy who works here, like a cashier or somethin’, I dunno.”

“Hey, man. Chill, we got this. Ain’t nothin’ gonna go wrong unless that Leroy kid learns who we are.”

We make it to the trail uphill, each step and jump aches my legs, it almost feels like my legs are going limp, and I’ll slip back down the incline. We reach the top and see about ten people at the pavilion in front of the post. We walk up to sign our names and I see him, a behemoth of a man. He looks 30, has a big chest, almost like he pushed up his fat from his stomach, he has dirty blonde hair and a butt chin, his shoes and clothes were covered in dirt. He has a scruffy stubble that looks like sandpaper. He stands taller than Jack, who wasn’t even meeting him despite him wearing his iconic top hat.

“Ey, Roy, dontcha worry ‘bout tomorrow, I’ll assure ya, those kids are done for once ya get in The Pit. They’ll be down at the medic’s office once yer done with ‘em.” a kid says to Leroy as they both wait in line to get their fingers scanned. Leroy lets out a low bellow. “I’m no man to be messed with, Zane. I didn’t git all this muscle fer nothin’!”

We wait in line, get our names on the clipboard, and the counselor starts to talk. We’re not paying attention, all we’re focused on is taking the machine back to camp unnoticed.

The counselor makes us go into the trading post. We all shuffle in and he goes behind the counter. We see it. He pulls out a metal box, no larger than an encyclopedia.

“This here is a fingerprint scanner, you put your finger in, and it’ll save that data, and it can scan for similar prints. It is a very useful tool for crime scenes to figure out who did it. Now line up, and I’ll scan your prints.”

All of the boys rush to the front, Leroy pushing most kids outta the way.

“Now what’s your name, son?”

“Leroy Stark.”

“Well, Roy, if you prefer Roy, would you stick your thumb into this machine?”

He sticks his thumb in, the machine lights up and whirs quietly, the light goes green and on the little screen it shows a picture of Leroy’s fingerprint.

“Now we can use Roy’s print to scan for similar ones.”

The counselor picks up the machine and starts to scan the trading post. A ray of blue light scans the room. As it scans, it beeps when going over the counter. A light flashes on the counter and it shows fingerprints, all over the counter.

“Now you see, Roy. You were touching the counter, and since your print was scanned, it shows up when we scan the room.”

“That’s wicked, it’s like something outta a Bond movie.” I whisper to Vincent.

“Yeah, just watch.”

“Watch?”

I see Jack walk out in a police uniform, holding a scanner.

That slick son of a bitch.

Trading Post, 7:56, Saturday

Chapter 16

Rest

He keeps his Aviator sunglasses on, hiding who he is.

“Hello everybody, my name is Officer Cronie and I’m here to talk to you boys about how we use these scanners to find some criminals.”

Jack winks at us.

“Now most of you have heard of mob bosses? Right?” We nod our heads.

“Well, in the early eighties, ‘82 to be exact, there was a man who was a part of the New York mafia; The Yellow were his people and boy, were they hard to catch. The leader, who we still don’t know the name of, some people just call him The Yellow Man, well fingerprint scanners had just been released to the police force, so we used them to our advantage. The city made it mandatory to scan prints in workplaces to catch these yellow men. We found over fifty vigilantes using this.”

We all “ooh” and “aah” at “Officer Cronie’s” story.

“Officer, you… well nevermind, you know what you’re talking about.” the counselor says as Jack walks behind the counselor and as no one’s looking he signals Jorge. “Aaaaachooo!”

Jorge fakes sneezes, which sounds like a gunshot. swaps the scanners, which look identical. He slips out the back door. We see him through the window, holding up the scanner.

The class ends and we get a pretty much free merit badge. We walk down the trail and head back to camp. The younger scouts have a fire going.

“Great job with the fire, Disk. When did ya start it?” I ask.

“Oh, I started about thirty minutes ago, I used some of your lint, if that’s okay.”

“That’s no problem. “ I reassure him, “I bring lint for fires, not for anything else. That’s why I brought it.”

“Thanks, Soggy.”

Damn, that really has spread like wildfire all over camp. I sit down by the fire and I put my hand over it. I feel the warmth, the heat it gives. I’ve always liked fire, it’s just so… nice to sit next to, watching it slowly die down, just naturally. I get goosebumps, because Liz enters my mind, she hasn’t been in my mind in a while. I remember making a fire with her at her house. We just sat and watched, and watched. We eventually fell asleep on the deck. It was good being next to her. I haven’t seen her for two weeks. I miss her.

“You're spacing out again, Brian.” Vincent puts his hand on my shoulder.

“It’s her, isn’t it?”

I pause. I don’t like talking about Liz to people, I was never good at it.

“It’s nothing, Vin.” I push off his shoulder.

“Okay, just remember, no writing to her in the tent. Don’t wake everyone up with your light.”

He walks off into the darkness. He’s right, Liz is getting to me, it’s not like I can see her all the time. I thought back to the note, she said, “I’ll see you soon.” I didn’t know what that meant. I was too tired to think about it. I sit down in my camp chair and I get comfortable.

“Don’t fall asleep, Soggs. It’d be a real shame if some critter came an’ took off with ya.” Connor nudges me.

“Shut up, Joker. I just need some rest. It’s been a long day.”

I put my cap over my face and I drift off, Liz still in my mind.

It was a good day, Vin showed me the sunset photos he took.

I wanted tomorrow to not be as stressful as today was.

I wanted, I needed to rest.

George C. Edmin Pool, 9:01 AM, Sunday

Chapter 17

Spit It Out

“You, Middleton. Go get the brick.”

I stare down into the twelve foot deep pool. I see a dark rectangle at the bottom, it’s a ten pound brick.

I take a deep breath, and I dive in the pool, I cut through the water, and I start to swim down to the bottom. The brick is getting closer and closer. I grab it and lift it up, I swim up gradually, lugging the brick to my side. I reach the surface and gasp for air. My shaggy hair falls in front of my face. I pull it back and hand the brick to the lifeguard. Who’s mouth is wide open.

“What? What did I do?”

“What did Middleton do?” the counselor says as he walks up to the guard. He was an old man, I think he used to be in the Marines.

The guard shows him the brick, and the only way to describe the look on Mr. Marines face is plain shock, disbelief, amazement.

“Middleton, you just lifted a twenty pound brick off the pool floor.”

All of the other scouts look at me like I’m some god, some powerful being.

“H-how? How’d ya lift a twenty pound brick off the damn twelve foot deep pool?”

“I guess I didn’t know my own strength, sir.” I say, still out of breath, and in shock.

“Are you feeling well, ‘re yer arms tired ‘er anythin’?” Mr. Marine says as he puts his hand on my shoulder.

“I feel out of breath, but I ain’t have any stress on my arms, sir.”

“Well, I’ll be damned. I thought you were some wimp, Middleton. You’ve proved me wrong.”

He sticks out his hand to shake mine. I grab his hand, firmly. It felt like a movie. I sit down at the bench and dry off.

“Now for the rest of you boys, you only have to lift a ten pound brick.”

They sigh in relief, and start to line up.

“Middleton, ya can leave early, you’ve earned it.”

I thank Mr. Marine and walk into the locker room. I change into my day clothes and step outside. The warm sun hits my body. I breathe in, and breathe out. I start walking to my next class: Cooking. Most of my friends are surprised I hadn’t gotten it earlier. Everyone thought I was a good cook. I cooked every three campouts, and everyone couldn’t get enough of it. I never saw the greatness in my cooking,

I think it’s just good at best, but maybe it’s because everyone else’s Ma’s a bad cook. Ma taught me most of the recipes I use, she was a great cook. We rarely ever ate out. Ma always had to make somethin’, and I never got tired of it. No one did, so many people wanted her recipes, she said,

“I’m not giving anyone my recipes, I’m taking them to my grave and you better do the same.” I love cooking, today we’re gonna be making pork.

I reach the building, which has a thousand smells. I can’t smell anything but a combination of pasta, tomatoes, and herbs.

“Hey, hey, hey! Is that Soggy I see?” Mr. Loberte bellows.

“Hey, Mr. Lo. We making pork today? I don’t see any ingredients.”

“About that, you remember that dinner ya had last night?”

“Oh the barbeque… Oh, they used our ingredients, damn.” I cross my arms.

“Hey! If yer okay with it, I was a-wondering if ya wanted to show us one of yer recipes.” He rubs his hands together. I look at him, and he’s practically begging.

“Aight, we’ll make a stew, goulash if ya will. I’ll need some stuff, but I’m sure we’ll have it.”

I set up a stove and I grab some ground beef from the cooler.

“Mind if I use this?” I ask Mr. Lo.

“Oh, no, no, no. You use what you want.”

I open the ground beef and put in a skillet, I take a spatula and chop up the ground beef. More scouts walk into the building, some don’t even know me, but they still know me as “Soggy” or “The Cook”. It’s good to not be known as Brian Wallace Middleton.

“Hey! It’s The Cook! Whatcha making today?” One of them asks.

“Goulash, it’s a family recipe.”

“Isn’t everything he makes a family recipe?” They snicker with each other.

“Make yourselves useful and go find some elbow pasta.” I point to a pile of boxes with dry goods in them.

“Rummage through that, see what you can find.”

They go through the box, when I know that the pasta is right next to me, I just wanted to get rid of the dumbasses.

Jack walks up to me, “Hey, about the scanner, we didn’t-“ He pauses.

“Oh shit, you cooking? Save me some.”

“Can you make your point?”

“Oh, my bad. So what I was saying was, we didn’t find any prints. Leroy was never in our camp. It must’ve been a raccoon ‘er somethin’. I returned the scanner to the post. I put it in the Lost and Found, like some dumbass kid.”

“Good job, Jack. Hey, can ya do me a favor?”

“Anything for the cook.”

I scoff.

“Go in my hammock and bring me the small bag with powder in it.”

“Are you putting drugs into yer pasta, man?”

“It’s a secret ingredient, our moron. Now go get it, you’ll get served first.”

I keep making the goulash, when a kid grabs me.

The Frog.

“Listen here, fucker. I don’t care if you’re God, we are going to take your ass down in The Pit. Roy’s here and he’s here to stay, and no one can beat ass like Roy.” I grab him and lift him off the ground.

“Now, you listen here. I want answers. Who was in our camp yesterday?!” I slam him against the wall.

“I ain’t tellin’ you, you soggy stuck up!”

“Tell me, damnit!!”

I slam him again.

“I don’t know! Please lemme go!”

“You ain’t going nowhere, you twisted shithead!”

“NO, LET ME GO!!!”

“TELL ME, FROG!!!!”

I slam him again. He kicks me in the gut. I clutch my stomach. He tries to run off, but I grab his collar. He tries to elbow me in the stomach, but he misses. I shove him to the floor.

“Hey! What the hell is goin’ on? Brian, what the hell are you thinkin’?!”

Mr. Lo rushes over. I back up from The Frog.

“H-he just jumped on me!” The Frog points at me.

I calm down. I unclench my fists, and start to explain.

“Mr. Lo, if you please, you know I would never attack a scout for no reason.”

“But, but, uh…” The Frog looks at me. I say to him,

“Spit. It. Out.”

The Pit, 4:49 PM, Sunday

Chapter 18

Provoked

“So what did he say?” they ask me.

“Lo dragged him off too quickly, he started with mister, which I found strange.”

“So it could’ve been an adult? Shit, man. Now that’s a theory.” Jack says as he puts his arms over The Pit.

“I’m just surprised I didn’t get any kinda warning for the fight, but I’m damn sure they’re watching me closely. I don’t think they’re likin’ us winnin’ so much.”

“Ya think I could play today?” Jack asks Vin.

“Sure, I don’t mind, but you better be wary of Leroy, I know he’s playing this game.” Vincent replies as he then points in the distance. Leroy comes down the road, one huge ass step at a time. I swear I feel the ground shake as he gets closer.

“Fe Fi Fo Fum, here comes a dumbass chum.” Connor whispers to us. We chuckle.

“Leroy’s here to mess you guys up!” Leroy shouts as he approaches The Pit. Only dumbasses and smartasses speak in the third person.

“Vin, we need you in there, man. If ya don’t, we might lose this.” Connor says as he points to Leroy. “Him. He’s gonna target ya. Don't let your guard down.”

Vincent doesn’t look worried, but everyone else does.

The Clipboard looks at Leroy, and writes his name down.

“Nice to see you back from juvie. Did you learn a lesson there?”

“Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t.” he grumbles.

“I’ve got my eyes on you, Stark.”

Leroy rolls his eyes.

Leroy’s partner was the kid he was talking to, he was short, but so was everyone compared to Leroy. He was maybe five three, and he knew it. His face was red with fury, like a little gremlin. He had a buzzcut and a circular head.

“Everyone, you know the rules. Get in.” The Clipboard says as he lifts his whistle off his protruding gut.

Jack hands me his top hat, revealing his long, silky, black hair that went in every which way.

“Ga-Ga-Ball!!” they shout.

Tension was in the air. Leroy aims for the ball and whacks it, and it hits a kid in the leg like a freight train.

BOOMP!

BOOMP!

BOOMP!

“Jesus, this guy’s a madman.” Connor whispers to me.

Leroy goes mad, he’s striking the ball harder than I’ve ever seen. Vin starts to sweat. Jack goes for the ball, and he hits it.

Leroy just laughs, and he makes the ball beeline for Jack.

“Oh shit!” Jack screams as he ducks down. The ball stays in The Pit. It bounces off the dirt, creating clouds of dust. Vincent starts to move, like crazy fast. He doesn’t swarm Leroy, he just moves around The Pit. He tells Jack something, and Jack starts to move crazy fast as well. Soon, it’s what Vin told me.

Dust Storm.

It’s a tornado in The Pit. The dust flies up into the air, you could probably see it from miles away. Leroy starts coughing.

“Hey, quit makin’ all ‘is dust. I’s losin’ my eye on the ball!”

Leroy swings blindly, and it hits a kid.

Vincent.

He climbs out of The Pit.

Jack looks up at Leroy, and Leroy just looks down.

“Come on, muddy boy!” Connor shouts,

“Yeah, get me out, Mudhead. I wanna see ya try.” Leroy teases.

Jack takes a hair tie off of his wrist and ties his hair, making a man bun.

“Let’s go, shithead.”

Leroy hits the ball, and it bounces like a pinball around The Pit. Jack hops over the ball, his legs shuffle around, trying to dodge the ball. Jack throws out his shirt, showing him wearing a wifebeater.

“It’s getting hot in here, isn’t it, Mudhead?”

“Shut your ass, junkass.” Jack snaps, he goes full mad. He ‘s moving all around The Pit, dust builds up. It’s like a bonfire, just with dust. He’s hitting the ball at Leroy, over and over and over and over.

BOOMP!

We can’t see through the dust.

We don’t know who it hit.

The dust clears off, and we see Jack, his leg is beat up, gorey almost. It’s a combination of blue, black and red. His blood gushes from the bruise. He wraps his tank around the wound. His tank becomes soaked immediately, it’s dead silent. And then he cheers.

“LEROY! Yeah, suck it, mud ass! Woooo!”

Jack’s face is red, but he’s calm. He sticks his hand out,

“Good game, Leroy.”

“Uh, yeah, good game.” Leroy shakes Jack’s hand, confused.

Leroy and his gang walk off, still cheering.

“I tried my best, man. He was just too fast and I couldn’t see, I was blinded. I’m sor-”

“Jack, you did better than me. I’m not trying to make myself feel good, but that’s impressive, we had a feeling this could happen, and it did. We just need to plan something.”

“I need to plan something myself.” Jack says as he rubs his chin.

“Hey man, we need to get you to the medic. You’re still bleeding a lot.”

“Yeah, this hurts like a bitch.” He puts his arms around Vin and my shoulders.

“I’m gonna get that fucker tonight.”

Campsite 1, 10:31 PM

Chapter 19

Payback

“The hell are you doin’?” I walk out of my tent to see Jack walking out of camp.

“Don’ worry ‘bout it. I’m just going to 457’s camp.”

“Jack, someone’s gonna see you.”

“Nah, I’ll just say I’m part of the staff. I’ve got a shirt.”

“How’d you get a shirt?”

“I… stole it from the washin’ machine.”

Jack always was a good thief, he stole raccoons from a dumpster a few years back and let them loose on a troop we compete with back at home. He’s always been a scoundrel, he’s done so many mischievous things. The wildest thing he’s done was stealing a projector and watching Anatasia with his friends. He wasn’t caught, to be honest, I don’t think he’s ever been caught.

“Well, what’re gonna do?”

“I ain’t gonna do anythin’ major. I’m just gonna goof around with their camp a bit. One thing I’m gonna do is put salt in the water jugs.” Jack pulls out maybe twenty salt packets from his jacket pocket.

“Jesus, Jack. You stealing from the dining hall?”

“Hey, man. They’s just salt. Ain’t nobody else tryna take ‘em.” He shoves them back into his pocket. He salutes me and walks off into the dark. I look up.

The moon shines brightly. The stars light up the sky. Jack mumbles the lyrics to Wonderwall as he walks down the gravel path.

“Who was that? It’s like, what?”

Vincent looks at his watch.

10:46

“Brian, get back to bed. I don’t even care anymore.” Vin says as he climbs back onto his cot.

I just stand there, looking into the dark abyss.

I should help him.

But I don’t need more trouble.

But I want payback.

Payback.

I creep around the tents and start crouch running across the camp. I make it to a latrine. I look around.

Dead silent.

I make my way around camp, constantly watching the minutes go by, the time getting later and later. I hear the crunch of gravel under my slip-ons. The moon is my flashlight, it softly lights the path ahead. I pass a wooden sign.

Campsite 8

And I see him, Jack. He’s crouched by 457's bus. I see him by the door, and I hear something.

Ker-CLUNK!

I whistle to get his attention. He looks around, and he sees me. He starts to run off, but I run up to him.

“It’s just me, man. It’s Brian.”

I put my hands on his shoulders. He breathes heavily, but he calms down.

“What the hell are you doin’ here, Brian?” Jack says through his teeth.

“I’m tryna help you, dumbass. Why the hell are you tryin’ to break into their bus? I thought you weren’t gonna do anything serious!” I say a bit too loud. He pulls out an aerosol can. It reads,

“Marine Epoxy”

He pushes down the nozzle, and some stuff comes out of it.

“This is glue, strong stuff.” he says as he opens the bus door. He goes to the back of the bus and sprays glue all down the aisle.

“Get outta the aisle, Soggs! I don’t need you gettin’ stuck in here!”

I jump over the glue and look around. I get an idea.

“Why don’t we glue the seats?”

Jack turns to me. He looks stone faced.

“What?”

He points to a seat, I look at it, I squint harder.

I see him.

Leroy, dead asleep.

“‘Re you thinkin’ what I’m thinkin’?”

“Let’s glue him to the seat!” We say together. We giggle like middle school girls when they hear something dumb. We spray the absolute shit outta the can, Leroy’s covered in glue, and he hasn’t even noticed.

“Hey, hey. He better stick to sleeping.” Jack jokes.

“Hey, hey. He thinks he’s safe, he's sticking to his guns.” I crack.

“He’s glued to a bus seat.” Jack says, with no emotion.

“What? That’s not funny.” I say, confused.

“Shut up, you don’t get it.” He swats at the air.

We climb out of the bus, and we start to walk back to camp.

We sing “Can’t Help Falling in Love With You” because Jack has such a mellow voice. We wrap our arms around each other’s shoulders.

“Wise men say

‘Only fools rush in’

But I can't help

Fallin’ in love with you

Shall I stay?

Would it be a sin

If I can't help

Fallin’ in love with you?

Like a river flows

Surely to the sea

Darlin’, so it goes

Some things are meant to be

Take my hand

Take my whole life too

For I can't help

Fallin’ in love with you

Like a river flows

Surely to the sea

Darlin’, so it goes

Some things are meant to be

Take my hand

Take my whole life too

For I can't help

Fallin’ in love with you

For I can't help

Fallin’ in love with you”

We chuckle after we finish.

Jack breaks the silence. “Brian, I’ve gotta ask ya a question, and you might know the answer. But do ya know if Vin is… gay? You’ve just known him for so long.”

I didn’t really think about whether or not Vin was gay or not.

“I don’t think he is, he’s quiet, but that’s with everything.”

“Ya think he’s in the closet?” Jack asks.

“He might be. He might be changing clothes.”

“Huh?”

“He might be questioning, dumbass. He might not know who he really is.” I explain.

“Oh. Should we ask him?”

I pause. I didn’t want to put Vin on the spot about his sexuality.

“No. Let him come out when he’s ready.” I say. We stop talking after that. We continue walking down the gravel road, and she comes into my mind.

Liz

Her face just can’t leave my mind. I can’t stop thinking about her.

And I know damn well she’s doing the same.

I whisper to myself, “I miss you.”

Jack doesn’t pry, because he knows what I’m talking about.

“I love you, Liz.”

I hear her saying it back.