Bunger Hill Aquatic Center, 4:34 PM, Friday

Chapter 6

Nicknames

“The aquatic center’s pretty nice, they got twice as many canoes and kayaks than back home.” Seán says as we walk up to the pavilion. “Hey, the dock looks nice, it’d be good for fishing.” I say as we walk out to it. The soft wood feels nice to walk on and the smell reminds me of being out on Folsom Lake. We all breathe in the cool air, and Jack shoves me into the water. The cool water swarms me. I climb out of the water and onto the dock. “I’m sorry, Brian. I had to do it.” Everyone’s laughing their ass off. I shove Jack into a mud puddle. Everyone only laughs harder. “Now we’re even.” I say as I pull Jack up. “You got lucky I was close to you, I would have ran off if I knew you were gonna shove me.” he says, wiping off the mud from his cargo pants. “Muddy and Soggy. That’s who you are now.” Connor says as he points to both of us. Soggy, huh? It’s something I could get used to, I’m getting tired of Brain. “Let’s call Seán, Lucky.” Connor whispers to me. “I heard that, you prick!” “Woah! Don’t scamper off, Lucky!” Connor says as we walk back to camp.

We see a kid running down the hill, he’s younger than us, as he gets closer, we realize it’s Alan Bisk, a First Class scout in our troop, real outdoorsy kid, I tell ya. “You guys did something, because 457 is pissed at you.” Alan gasps for air, he puts his hands on his knees, “They’re down at the pit.” He points down the hill. We all look at each other and start to head down. Alan tags along and gives us more details. “They were talking about how you humiliated them, and how’ll you pay the price. Sounded threatening, I overheard it and then I came here.” “Thanks, Alan. You did the right thing by coming to us.” Jack says as we approach the pit.

“You. What’s your name?” A senior says as he points to me.

“Soggy, they call me Soggy.” “Well, Soggy, it looks like you took our turf.” He looks at his watch, “4:46, it starts in 4 minutes. I hope you know that 457 is a force not to be reckoned with.” We see more scouts walk up, and more. Soon, there’s about 50 of them. A man with a clipboard walks up to the pit and starts to explain. “Welcome to our first Gaga ball game of the week. The rules are simple: two people from each troop get in the pit. The game starts as normal, if your teammate gets out, he is out for the day, and can’t play again until tomorrow. If you and your teammate both get out you can’t play anymore, at all. Others from your troop can participate but not you. And I know who plays and who doesn’t.” Vincent walks up. “What’s going on?” He says as Connor and I climb in the pit. I reply nervously, “It’s the first of many.”

The Pit, 5:00 PM, Friday

Chapter 7

The First of Many

“Ga-Ga-Ball!” we shout. Everyone scampers across the dirty ground hitting the ball back and forth. Someone aims for me but I dodge and let it hit the wall. The dust from the impact makes me cough. I hit it against the wall, making it go round the pit, hitting a few standing by. “Soggy Boy!” Connor shouts. He hits the ball at two guys, their legs twist together and they fall to the ground. I hit the ball as hard as I can and it flies at a 457 boy. He isn’t paying attention, and it hits him in the shin. “Count your days, Soggy.” He says as he climbs out. It seems like I’ll never get used to being called that. It’s just Connor, two other guys, and me. “Kill circle enabled!” The clipboard man shouts. I remember Vincent telling us about a “kill circle”. It was where two or three guys kept touching the ball, one then the other, so no double taps happened. They used it to target others. “Connor, come on, man.” Connor nods and we chant, “Kill circle! Kill circle!” Connor strikes the ball at a younger scout who tries to run but trips and lands on the ball. Now it’s just us and this one kid. He’s wearing a neon green shirt with a pair of boots dirtier than mine. He dodges the ball and hits it back at Connor, who hits the ball wrong and it hits the wall and back at his foot. “Damnit!” He says under his breath. “Go all the way, Soggy.” He climbs out. The dust is in my face. It feels like a shootout in the desert. “Double taps enabled!” The clipboard man shouts. The kid touches the ball and then hits it hard at the wall. It bounces off the wall and it flies in the air. He ran to stop it, but it was already out of the pit. I stand there, the last man standing. “What’s your name, son?” The Clipboard asks me. “Brian “Soggy” Middleton, Troop 15.” He writes some things down. “Well, Soggy, your troop just won the first game of Gaga ball, and rumor is, you boys didn’t even know what it was before you came here.” I nod my head. “Everybody! Next game is in 30 minutes! Be there or be square!” Clipboard goes over to sit on the picnic table in the shade. “Hell, yes! Woooo! D’you see what you did? He got himself out, you didn’t even hafta hit ‘em! He got himself out!” Jorge says as he congratulates me with a high-five. Vincent pats me on the back, “Well done, Brian.” I can’t stop smiling. I hear the boys murmur around me, “He got lucky, he’ll lose the next game, he doesn’t know what he’s doing.” And they’re right, I really don’t know what I’m doing. I really did just get lucky. “Let’s take you up to the post! Ale8s on me!” Jorge says as we walk up the hill. Someone grabs my shoulder, “You’ll get your turf taken, just you wait.” I shrug off his hand and continue walking up the hill.

Trading Post, 5:34 PM, Friday

Chapter 8

Let Me Dumb It Down

“So it’s a ginger citrus soda?” Connor says as he sets the green bottle down on the picnic table. “We gotta head back down in a few. Game starts at 5:45.” I say. “You can’t play again for today, Sog. It’s their rules.” Vincent says. “Damn, we need to find a kid who’s good at this.” We all think for a moment. “Well, let’s see who we have.” Seán says as he pulls out a crumpled piece of paper.

Brian Middleton

Vincent Citapelini

Jack Fields

Connor Schnadd

Seán McMeer

Michael Dencer

Jorge Gridger

Quincy Karlile

Alan Bisk

Jonathan Pealsy

Kenny Knab

Benjamin Jaggers

Jerry Elwell

Walter Schquireton

Max Mallher

Frankie Esposa

Timothy Alanare

“We got some choices, Pealsy’s a good sports guy, despite his age. Mallher’s a pretty slim guy, but he can move quickly. I don’t know, let's just flip a coin.” We all rummage through our pockets for some loose change. Jorge pulls out a penny. Pealsy and Mallher, heads. Elwell and Knab, tails. He flips the coin and it lands on the table, spinning. Around and around and around. It slows down and we all look over. It comes to a stop with Lincoln on the top. “Pealsy and Mallher it is. Now we just gotta find ‘em.” Jorge says. “I’ll go back down to camp to see if they’re there.” Jorge walks off, but breaks into a run after looking at his watch. We all look at our’s. 5:37. He better find them quick.

“So let me dumb it down for you.” Vincent says as he bends down to talk to Mallher and Pealsy. “Hit the ball with your fist at other people. Don’t let the ball hit your knee below. Don’t touch it twice, don’t go for the big guys, because they’ll go after you, and I know damn well that’s not how you make friends.” He stands back up. “Don’t fail, but if you do, we won’t get mad. You’re new, so don’t beat yourself up.” They nod and walk towards the pit. “What if we don’t know what to do?” Mallher asks me. “You just do your best, Mall.” Pealsy takes a deep breath, “Let’s go.” They both jump in the pit. The Clipboard walks up. “This is game two, boys. I hope you’re ready.” He throws the ball up in the air. “Ga-Ga-Ball!” Pealsy rushes towards the ball. He hits it with as much force as he could. It beams across the pit like a pinball, hitting the wall and legs all around. It was like a shell bouncing back and forth on Toad’s Turnpike. It was a madhouse. Kids tried to dodge but the ball just kept going. Mallher blocks the ball from hitting Pealsy, and hits it toward a kid who jumps higher than a frog. Soon it’s just Pealsy, Mallher, and the Frog. “Pealsy, aim high.” Mallher says as he begins to hit the ball, making the Frog jump. Pealsy hits the ball right when the Frog comes back down. The Frog couldn’t jump back up that quick, he tries to spread his legs to avoid the ball, but it’s too late, he’s already on the dirt with the ball against his shin. The Clipboard takes off his red hat, showing his bald head. He rubs his head in disbelief. “What are your names, boys?” “I’m Johnathon Pealsy and he’s Max Mallher.” He writes down their names on his chart. “Well, I’ll be damned, you boys just won again.” Mallher and Pealsy climb out of the pit. We lift them both in the air. “Pealsy! Pealsy! Mallher! Mallher!” we chant as we walk off. I see the glare the boys are giving us, but I can't be bothered by it. Nothing can bother me now.

Campsite 1, 9:34 PM, Friday

Chapter 9

Letters

“Hey boys, you’ve got mail.” Bronson sets a cardboard box on the picnic table. “Go through and see what ya got. Oh, and congrats on the gaga ball game, I wasn't there, but it seems to have already become a tall tale.” Bronson walks off to the other adults. We all rummage through the box. Vincent hands me two envelopes. One from Ma, and one from Liz. I rip open Liz’s.

Brian, I hope you are having fun in the middle-of-nowhere, Oregon. It’s been good back home, but everyone misses you. Especially me. I’ll be there soon.

-Liz

In the note, there’s a picture of us in San Francisco from spring break. I sigh. I miss her, but I know we can’t always be glued to each other. I learned that a while ago. A long while ago. I rip open Ma’s letter.

Dear Brian, I hope you are having much fun at summer camp. I miss having you around the house. Your father is doing well after his accident. I left you something special in the note. Share with your friends!

Love, Ma

I pull out a 24 pack of mint gum from the envelope. I love mint gum. I hand Vincent a piece under the table. “So who’d ya get a letter from, Liz?” Jorge says mockingly. “Yes, I did.” I say back. “What’d you get Connor?” I ask. “Oh, just a pair of socks in an orange envelope, a pack of deodorant, a note from my mom saying to “wear it”. Vincent chuckles as he reads his card. “What’s it say?” I look over at him. “From my Nonna.” He hands me the letter. I read it, and it’s the least grandmotherly thing I’ve ever read. “You serious? You actually read this with a straight face?” I say. “Eh, I've gotten used to it, she’s an Italian grandmother, what’re you gonna do?” He stuffs the letter in his back pocket and pops the gum in his mouth. “Well boys, I’m headed off to bed. I’ve gotta be ready for that swim tomorrow.” Jack says as he walks off to his hammock. “We should all head to bed. Most of the first years are already tired of walking everywhere.” Connor says as he heads off, the rest of the seniors walk to their tents. Vincent and I just… sit, watching the night sky. “I hope you realize you have much to learn.” he says as he keeps staring at the bright stars. I joke, “Yes, Sensei. I will not let you down.” Vincent scoffs and walks to our tent. I follow him, but something falls out of his pocket. A piece of paper folded up. I pick it up and see who it’s from.

Princeton University

Vincent Wallace Citapelini,

We are proud to say that you have been accepted into the engineering program at Princeton University. We read your essay and we were blown away. Never in my 35 years of teaching at Princeton have I seen such a well organized, clean, neat, and astounding piece of text. I am hoping to see you this Fall. I truly think you are meant for greater things, your mind is exquisite and full of knowledge. I personally would love you in my class.

Sincerely,

Paul DeLoore

Head of Engineering at Princeton University

…

I’m dumbfounded, absolutely astonished that Vincent, who I knew was a smart kid, wouldn’t talk about his acceptance letter in an ivy league school. It just wasn’t him, despite him being quiet. I enter our tent. Vincent has his shirt off, but quickly pulls a sheet over himself. “Vincent, I hope you know if I see you ass naked, it’s not going to bother me, let alone you shirtless.” He drops the sheet. I hand him the paper. “What are you thinking?! You got a college acceptance letter and you didn’t tell anybody, let alone me? Come on, Vince, I’ve known you for more than half my life!” He doesn't show any expression in his face, just his eyes, which stare straight into my soul. “You weren’t supposed to read that.” He says under his breath. “Just go to bed, Soggy.” “Just go to bed, Sensei.” He puts the paper in his backpack.

There was no sunset that night because of the clouds. I hope it’s better tomorrow.

Bunger Hill Aquatic Center, 2:47 PM, Saturday

Chapter 10

Attempts

The wind flows through my hair as we cruise by the sailboats in the lake. Motorboating is fun with Knab, he’s like a fish. You can just shove him in and he’ll swim back and shove you off a minute later. “What’s the deal with this gaga ball thing? I hear everybody talking about us, specifically you.” Kenny asks me. “We won the first two games and it was kinda a big deal, not just for us, but for everyone. Every troop here is out to get us.” I explain to him. “Oh, well, am I eligible?” “Yes, you might play today.” I steer the boat around the cone and let Knab take control of the stick. I maneuver to the front of the boat and Kanab sits in the back. He lifts the lever and slowly weaves around the buoys. “You’re a natural, Ken.” “Call me Knab, Kenny doesn’t fit me.” He’s right, Kenny sounds like a dad's name. Knab is quite the opposite, he’s more full of pride than bad jokes. We curve around the peninsula of the lake. Our instructor gives us a thumbs up. We continue the course and we pass by the dam. We see hikers looking out over it. We wave at them. They don’t wave back, they just mouth “go to hell”.

457.

Without a doubt it was them. I see them keep walking, by the time we’re past the dam, so are they. “Is that what you’ve seen, Knab? Them being dicks?” I point to where they were. “Yeah, they just act like guys too good for everyone else. Straight assholes, I tell ya.”

The motorboat speeds up, Knab pushes the lever further. “Have you ever seen God, Brian?” Further down he pushes the lever. Faster, and faster, further and further, closer and closer to the shoreline. I grab the stick and pull to the left. Knab turns it back to the right. I jump to the back of the boat, which I nearly fall off of. The boat bounces on the water and speeds up. I throw Knab to the front of the boat. “What are you thinking?!” I grab the stick and pull a hard right. The boat turns gradually. “Grrrrrrrrrragggh!!” I grunt as I nearly hit the shoreline. I stop the boat as we approach the dock. I turn to Knab. “Get. Out.” He doesn’t move. “Knab?” He’s slumped over the side of the boat. I turn him over, he’s not breathing. I lift him onto my shoulder and lie him down on the dock. I start doing CPR. “What the hell happened?” our instructor screams as he runs over. “He attempted to kill himself and now he’s not breathing.” I keep doing CPR. “I-I’m gonna go get the medic.” He says as he runs down the concrete path. “Come on, Knab.” I say under my breath. He coughs up water and breathes heavily. “W-what happened?” “You wanted to kill yourself. You tried to ram the boat into the shoreline.” I lift him up and walk him over to the pavilion. I hear the golf cart hum around me. The medic and our instructor drive over to us. “Make sure he’s okay, and talk to him about suicide and how it’s not the answer to his problems.” I say as Knab hops on the cart. They drive up the hill to the admin building and I look down at my arms. My veins are popping out. They always did when shit got scary. “Brian? Do you need to leave? You can if you want to.” “Yes, thank you. Will I get the sign off?” “Oh, yes you will. You might get something more for what you just did.” He says as he hands me my pack. I take a deep breath and walk down the hill, still looking at my veins.

I pass by The Pit. Vincent’s practicing against himself. I hear the ball thump against the wooden walls. “Hey, Vin. Whatcha doing?” He looks at me. “What’d you do?” He says. “What do ya mean?” “Your veins, they’re popped. Your blood pressure’s high.” I rub my arms, feeling the grooves of every single one. “I stopped Kenny from suicide. I don’t want to talk about it.” I drop my pack on the grass and hop in the pit. “Can ya teach me, Sensei?”

The Pit, 4:12 PM, Saturday

Chapter 11

The Planning

“Damn! The dust is getting in my eyes!”

I hit the ball with my fist. It flies across The Pit. Vincent doesn’t have a problem with the dust because of his glasses. He hits the ball but I don’t see it. It’s so dusty, it’s like a tornado. The dust clears out and he’s gone. Vincent’s nowhere to be seen. I feel the ball hit my leg. Vincent walks out from behind me.

“Shit, Vin. How’d ya do that?”

“It’s a Dust Storm, I create dust with my feet to make it impossible to see, you weren’t focused on where I was, just where the ball was. It’s creating a diversion.” Vincent was smart about this, I’m glad he’s not on the other teams.

“It takes time to learn, especially for you.”

“Don’t jab at me. I’m a quick learner.” He throws the ball up.

“Ga-Ga-Ball!”

He hits the ball at me. Straight up bullet. “Jesus, Vin!” I hit the ball back at him, he jumps over the ball. He lands and hits the ball between his legs. “Vin, you’re s’posed to teach me, not to keep gettin’ me out!”

“How else will you learn? Look at what you’re doing now, take what you’re doing wrong and fix it.” I look down at myself. My arms don’t reach the ball when I’m standing up. I spread my legs apart and crouch down. I crab-walk across The Pit. My knees bend back and forth. I realize that if I’m low to the ground and stay there, I can hit the ball a lot easier than crouching every five seconds.

“See, it took ya a while to figure that out, even Mall and Pealsy figured that out on day one.” he says. “Cut me some slack, I ain’t no genius like you.” I grab my water bottle and chug the rest of it. “Aight, let’s get back to it.” I hit the ball crouched down. Vincent slides across the pit, creating a trail across The Pit. I dodge the dust and hit the ball at the cloud. The dust breaks up into pieces and falls to the ground. The ball bounces off the wall and comes to the middle. Vincent slaps it with his bare hands, which are just as dirty as mine are. “Oooo, damn that burns!” Vincent says as he shakes his hand back and forth. I hit the ball at an angle up, let it bounce, jump across The Pit, and spike it down at Vincent’s feet.

“D’you see that?! WOOO! Baby, yeah! That was wicked!” I scream as I jump up and down. “Good play, Soggs.” Vincent responds proudly. “We need to call that something. That move. How about we call it uuuhh…” I think for a moment. “A spike! Like in volleyball. Liz talks about her doing them all the time.” I say. “Yeah, that’s good, Soggs.”

We walk back to camp and sit under the pavilion. I grab a piece of paper and a pencil. “Gather ‘round, boys. We gotta make a plan for today’s games.” The rest of our crew sits down on the sleek picnic table. “Who’re we sending in?” I ask. “I’ll volunteer, I just need to practice beforehand.” Michael chimes in. I write down his name. “We needta add in a younger scout or Bronson’s gonna get pissed.” We all nod our heads. “Hey! Why don’t we get Alan in there? Bisk’s an adventurous kid, he can take anything!” Seán shouts. “Hey, yeah! That kid oughta be a natural, dontcha think?” Jorge grunts. We all chatter about Seán’s idea. I write Bisk’s name down on the sheet. I look at my watch.

4:53

“Hey losers!” I shout, “Game starts in seven minutes, someone get Bisk to The Pit! We’ve got a game to play!”

The Pit, 4:58 PM, Saturday

Chapter 12

Moves

“Who’s looking for Bisk?” I ask Vincent. “Connor. He thinks he saw him up at the post, probably getting that canoe knife they have.” We hear a rustle in the bushes. We see Bisk and Connor sliding down from the post. “I got ‘im! I ‘splained the gist of the game from what Vin told us.” Connor shouts to us from the hill. Bisk isn’t far behind, grabbing trees to slow down his fall. He plants a stick in the ground and shoves off of it. He flies across the pavement and plants his feet in the grass. He pants, “Who am I playing with again?” “Me, I got your back if ya need it, Bisk.” Michael says as they climb over the dusty wooden walls. “You boys know the rules, no wall jumps, no double touches, and no whining about gettin’ out.”

He throws the ball up. It hits the ground, once, twice, three times. It sits for a solid second and the game begins. The scouts go wild over it, kids are getting out left and right. Michael swipes at the ball. It hits the wall and comes toward Bisk. He puts his hand down to the ground. The ball climbs up his arm, around his shoulders and to his other arm, it flies off his other arm, hurling toward a bunch of scouts. They scatter except one, who gets hit in the shin. “D’you see that?” Connor stutters. “Shit, man. Who didn’t see that? That was wicked, wicked I tell ya.”

He keeps going, he lets the ball climb up his arm and he hits it at someone. His moves, mesmerizing, just like Vin’s. The Clipboard is astonished, others are asking him if it’s allowed and he doesn’t answer because he’s just in shock. Everyone’s so focused on Bisk, we didn’t even see Michael get out. “That kid is something else.” Michael says as he brushes off his pants.

BOOMP!

“Ah, damn!”

BOOMP!

“How is that allowed?”

BOOMP!

“Jeeezus!”

There’s just two left, Bisk and the Frog, he’s back, and he ain’t losing to some newbie. You can see the steam coming out of his ears. His face is red hot, and he charges at the ball. He hits the ball as hard as he can. “DUCK, BISK!”

Bisk drops to the ground and the ball flies up in the air. It comes down like a bullet on the edge of the wall. It bounces once, twice, three times, and it falls out of The Pit.

“NOOOO! That stupid fucking ball!! Jesus Christ!!” The Frog climbs out of the pit.

Silence.

Not a word comes out of anyone. Bisk climbs out of the pit, gives his name to the Clipboard, and we walk off.

We climb up the trail to the trading post. Silence, nothing but the crunch of stray leaves under our feet. We all sit down at the picnic table outside the post. “WOOOOOOO BABY! Oh yeah, that was a rush, I thought I was gonna get called out but the guy didn’t say anything!” Bisk explodes out of nowhere. We all pat him on the back and chant, “Bisk! Bisk! Bisk! Bisk the Disk!” Bisk was like a disk, smooth with what he did, and he did it right.

“Let’s get this kid an Ale8, he deserves it for beating the shit outta those punks!” Jorge shouts as he walks into the post. We all sit back down. “Hey fellas, watch him in there.” I point to the window. We all watch him go to the fridge and grab a bottle. He goes to the counter and slams it down. We all go quiet, “Yo, anybody back there? I’m tryna get somethin’!” We watch the girl with brown curly hair rush from the back. Her curls bounce up and down. She pushes her round glasses up. “I-i’m sorry, I w-was restocking.” Jorge goes red faster than The Frog did. We all chuckle at him from the table. “He’s redder than Seán’s hair!” Connor whispers. Jorge fumbles with his wallet and shoves four quarters across the counter. She opens the register and drops the coins in. “T-thanks again.” she stutters as she hands him the bottle. He grabs the bottle and his big hands wrap around it. His square-like fingers touch her dainty fingers. They quickly release their grasp and blush. She walks to the back and Jorge walks out. He walks over to Disk and slides the bottle to him. “It’s on the house, Disk” He rests his face on his fist and looks through the window. Everyone’s looking at him. “What?”

“You, dawg, you like her.” Connor says

“Nuh uh, no I don’t. It’s just hot in there, she was red hot too.”

I look back to see Vincent helping Disk open his bottle. Vin wipes the sweat off his hand on his shorts and twists off the cap. “Better grip when your hands are dry.”

“Come one, Jorge. Make a move, man!” I say, punching his shoulder.

“Yeah, man, you can’t leave a chick like that behind.” Seán adds.

“You realize we live in Sacramento, right? It’s about a ten hour drive back home. Even if I got into a relationship, it wouldn’t last.” He says as he looks back into the window. We see the girl duck down, covering her face.

“Haha! She likes you back, big guy! You just gotta tell her!” Seán says.

“Goddamnit, guys. I ain’t ready for something like this.”

We hear a whistle blow.

5:45

The Pit is waiting. Vincent grabs Jorge and they jump over the wooden railing. They slide down just like Connor and Disk. They reach the bottom and run into the pit.

“Come on, guys. Vin’s playing and I wanna see him kick some 457 ass!” Connor shouts as he heads down the trail.