بخش 06کتاب: گودال ها / فصل 6
- زمان مطالعه 42 دقیقه
- سطح خیلی سخت
دانلود اپلیکیشن «زیبوک»
این فصل را میتوانید به بهترین شکل و با امکانات عالی در اپلیکیشن «زیبوک» بخوانید
متن انگلیسی فصل
Stanley thought again about his own parents, how awful it would be for them to never know if he was dead or alive. He realized that was how Zero must have felt, not knowing what happened to his own mother. He wondered why Zero never mentioned his father.
“Hold on,” Zero said, stopping abruptly. “We’re going the wrong way.”
“No, this is right,” said Stanley.
“You were heading toward Big Thumb when you saw the boat off to your right,” said Zero. “That means we should have turned right when we left the boat.”
Zero drew a diagram in the dirt.
Stanley still wasn’t sure.
“We need to go this way,” Zero said, first drawing a line on the map and then heading that way himself.
Stanley followed. It didn’t feel right to him, but Zero seemed sure.Sometime in the middle of the afternoon, a cloud drifted across the sky and blocked out the sun. It was a welcome relief. Once again, Stanley felt that destiny was on his side.
Zero stopped and held out his arm to stop Stanley, too.
“Listen,” Zero whispered.
Stanley didn’t hear anything.
They continued walking very quietly and Stanley began to make out the faint sounds of Camp Green Lake. They were still too far away to see the camp, but he could hear a blend of indistinct voices. As they got closer he occasionally could hear Mr. Sir’s distinctive bark.
They walked slowly and quietly, aware that sounds travel in both directions.
They approached a cluster of holes. “Let’s wait here, until they go in,” said Zero.
Stanley nodded. He checked to make sure there was nothing living in it, then climbed down into a hole.
Zero climbed into the one next to him.
Despite having gone the wrong way for a while, it hadn’t taken them nearly as long as Stanley had expected. Now, they just had to wait.
The sun cut through the cloud, and Stanley felt its rays beating down on him. But soon more clouds filled the sky, shading Stanley and his hole.
He waited until he was certain the last of the campers had finished for the day.
Then he waited a little longer.
As quietly as possible, he and Zero climbed up out of their holes and crept toward camp. Stanley held the sack in front of him, cradled in his arms, instead of over his shoulder, to keep the jars from clanking against each other. A wave of terror rushed over him when he saw the compound—the tents, the Wreck Room, the Warden’s cabin under the two oak trees. The fear made him dizzy. He took a breath, summoned his courage, and continued.
“That’s the one,” he whispered, pointing out the hole where he had found the gold tube. It was still about fifty yards away, but Stanley was pretty sure it was the right hole. There was no need to risk going any closer.
They climbed down into adjacent holes, and waited for the camp to fall asleep.
44Stanley tried to sleep, not knowing when he’d get the chance again. He heard the showers and, later, the sounds of dinner. He heard the creaking of the Wreck Room door. His fingers drummed against the side of the hole. He heard his own heart heat.
He took a drink from the canteen. He had given Zero the water jars. They each had a good supply of onions.
He wasn’t sure how long he remained in the hole, maybe five hours. He was surprised when he heard Zero whispering for him to wake up. He didn’t think he’d fallen asleep. If he had, he thought it must have just been for the last five minutes. Although, when he opened his eyes, he was surprised how dark it was.
There was only one light on at camp, in the office. The sky was cloudy, so there was very little starlight.
Stanley could see a sliver of a moon, which appeared and disappeared among the clouds.
He carefully led Zero to the hole, which was hard to find in the darkness. He stumbled over a small pile of dirt. “I think this is it,” he whispered.
“You think?” Zero asked.
“It’s it,” said Stanley, sounding more certain than he really was. He climbed down. Zero handed him the shovel.
Stanley stuck the shovel into the dirt at the bottom of the hole and stepped on the back of the blade. He felt it sink beneath his weight. He scooped out some dirt and tossed it off to the side. Then he brought the shovel back down.
Zero watched for a while. “I’m going to try to refill the water jars,” he said.
Stanley took a deep breath and exhaled. “Be careful,” he said, then continued digging.
It was so dark, he couldn’t even see the end of his shovel. For all he knew he could be digging up gold and diamonds instead of dirt. He brought each shovelful close to his face, to try to see if anything was there, before dumping it out of the hole.
As he made the hole deeper, it became harder to lift the dirt up and out. It was five feet deep before he even started. He decided to use his efforts to make it wider instead.
This made more sense, he told himself. If Kate Barlow had buried a treasure chest, she probably wouldn’t have been able to dig much deeper, so why should he?
Of course, Kate Barlow probably had a whole gang of thieves helping her.
“You want some breakfast?”
Stanley jumped at the sound of Zero’s voice. He hadn’t heard him approach.
Zero handed down a box of cereal. Stanley carefully poured some cereal into his mouth. He didn’t want to put his dirty hands inside the box. He nearly gagged on the ultra-sweet taste. They were sugar-frosted flakes, and after eating nothing but onions for more than a week, he had trouble adjusting to the flavor.
He washed them down with a swig of water.Zero took over the digging. Stanley sifted his fingers through the fresh piles of dirt, in case he had missed anything. He wished he had a flashlight. A diamond no bigger than a pebble would be worth thousands of dollars. Yet there was no way he’d see it.
They finished the water that Zero had gotten from the spigot by the showers. Stanley said he’d go fill the jars again, but Zero insisted that he do it instead. “No offense, but you make too much noise when you walk. You’re too big.”
Stanley returned to the hole. As the hole grew wider, parts of the surface kept caving in. They were running out of room. To make it much wider, they would first have to move some of the surrounding dirt piles out of the way. He wondered how much time they had before the camp woke up.
“How’s it going?” Zero asked when he returned with the water.
Stanley shrugged one shoulder. He brought the shovel down the side of the hole, shaving off a slice of the dirt wall. As he did so, he felt the shovel bounce off something hard.
“What was that?” Zero asked.
Stanley didn’t know. He moved his shovel up and down the side of the hole. As the dirt chipped and flaked away, the hard object became more pronounced.
It was sticking out of the side of the hole, about a foot and a half from the bottom. He felt it with his hands.
“What is it?” Zero asked.
He could just feel a corner of it. Most of it was still buried. It had the cool, smooth texture of metal. “I think I might have found the treasure chest,” he said. His voice was filled more with astonishment than with excitement.
“Really?” asked Zero.
“I think so,” Stanley said.
The hole was wide enough for him to hold the shovel lengthwise and dig sideways into the wall. He knew he had to dig very carefully. He didn’t want the side of the hole to collapse, along with the huge pile of dirt directly above it.
He scraped at the dirt wall, until he exposed one entire side of the box-like object. He ran his fingers over it. It felt to be about eight inches tall, and almost two feet wide. He had no way of knowing how far into the earth it extended. He tried pulling it out, but it wouldn’t budge.
He was afraid that the only way to get to it was to start back up at the surface, and dig down. They didn’t have time for that.
“I’m going to try to dig a hole underneath it,” he said. “Then maybe I can pull it down and slip it out.”
“Go for it,” said Zero.
Stanley jammed the shovel into the bottom edge of his hole, and carefully began to dig a tunnelunderneath the metal object. He hoped it didn’t cave in.
Occasionally he’d stop, stoop down, and try to feel the far end of the box. But even when the tunnel was as long as his arm, he still couldn’t feel the other side.
Once again he tried pulling it out, but it was firmly in the ground. If he pulled too hard, he feared, he’d cause a cave-in. He knew that when he was ready to pull it out, he would have to do it quickly, before the ground above it collapsed.
As his tunnel grew deeper and wider—and more precarious—Stanley was able to feel latches on one end of the box, and then a leather handle. It wasn’t really a box. “I think it might be some kind of metal suitcase,” he told Zero.
“Can you pry it loose with the shovel?” Zero suggested.
“I’m afraid the side of the hole will collapse.”
“You might as well give it a try,” said Zero.
Stanley took a sip of water. “Might as well,” he said.
He forced the tip of the shovel between the dirt and the top of the metal case and tried to wedge it free.
He wished he could see what he was doing.
He worked the end of the shovel, back and forth, up and down, until he felt the suitcase fall free. Then he felt the dirt come piling down on top of it.
But it wasn’t a huge cave-in. As he knelt down in the hole, he could tell that only a small portion of the earth had collapsed.
He dug with his hands until he found the leather handle, and then he pulled the suitcase up and out of the dirt. “I got it!” he exclaimed.
It was heavy. He handed it up to Zero.
“You did it,” Zero said, taking it from him.
“We did it,” said Stanley.
He gathered his remaining strength, and tried to pull himself up out of the hole. Suddenly, a bright light was shining in his face.
“Thank you,” said the Warden. “You boys have been a big help.”
45The beam of the flashlight was directed away from Stanley’s eyes and onto Zero, who was sitting on his knees. The suitcase was on his lap.
Mr. Pendanski was holding the flashlight. Mr. Sir stood next to him with his gun drawn and pointed in the same direction. Mr. Sir was barefoot and bare-chested, wearing only his pajama bottoms.
The Warden moved toward Zero. She was also in her bed clothes, wearing an extra-long T-shirt. Unlike Mr. Sir, however, she had on her boots.
Mr. Pendanski was the only one fully dressed. Perhaps he had been on guard duty.
Off in the distance, Stanley could see two more flashlights bobbing toward them in the darkness. He felt helpless in the hole.
“You boys arrived just in the nick—” the Warden started to say. She stopped talking and she stopped walking. Then she slowly backed away.
A lizard had crawled up on top of the suitcase. Its big red eyes glowed in the beam of the flashlight. Its mouth was open, and Stanley could see its white tongue moving in and out between its black teeth.
Zero sat as still as a statue.
A second lizard crawled up over the side of the suitcase and stopped less than an inch away from Zero’s little finger.
Stanley was afraid to look, and afraid not to. He wondered if he should try to scramble out of the hole before the lizards turned on him, but he didn’t want to cause any commotion.
The second lizard crawled across Zero’s fingers and halfway up his arm.
It occurred to Stanley that the lizards were probably on the suitcase when he handed it to Zero.
“There’s another one!” gasped Mr. Pendanski. He shined the flashlight on the box of Frosted Flakes, which lay on its side beside Stanley’s hole. A lizard was crawling out of it.
The light also illuminated Stanley’s hole. He glanced downward and had to force himself to suppress a scream. He was standing in a lizard nest. He felt the scream explode inside him.
He could see six lizards. There were three on the ground, two on his left leg, and one on his right sneaker.
He tried to remain very still. Something was crawling up the back of his neck.
Three other counselors approached the area. Stanley heard one say, “What’s going—” and then whisper, “Oh my God.”
“What do we do?” asked Mr. Pendanski.
“We wait,” said the Warden. “It won’t be very long.”“At least we’ll have a body to give that woman,” said Mr. Pendanski.
“She’s going to ask a lot of questions,” said Mr. Sir. “And this time she’ll have the A.G. with her.”
“Let her ask her questions,” said the Warden. “Just so long as I have the suitcase, I don’t care what happens. Do you know how long . . .” Her voice trailed off, then started up again. “When I was little I’d watch my parents dig holes, every weekend and holiday. When I got bigger, I had to dig, too. Even on Christmas.”
Stanley felt tiny claws dig into the side of his face as the lizard pulled itself off his neck and up past his chin.
“It won’t be long now,” the Warden said.
Stanley could hear his heart beat. Each beat told him he was still alive, at least for one more second.
Five hundred seconds later, his heart was still beating.
Mr. Pendanski screamed. The lizard which had been in the cereal box was springing toward him.
Mr. Sir shot it in midair.
Stanley felt the blast shatter the air around him. The lizards scurried frantically across his very still body.
He did not flinch. A lizard ran across his closed mouth.
He glanced at Zero and Zero’s eyes met his. Somehow they were both still alive, at least for one more second, one more heartbeat.
Mr. Sir lit a cigarette.
“I thought you quit,” said one of the other counselors.
“Yeah, well, sometimes sunflower seeds just won’t cut it.” He took a long drag on his cigarette. “I’m going to have nightmares the rest of my life.”
“Maybe we should just shoot them,” suggested Mr. Pendanski.
“Who?” asked a counselor. “The lizards or the kids?”
Mr. Pendanski laughed grimly. “The kids are going to die anyway.” He laughed again. “At least we got plenty of graves to choose from.”
“We’ve got time,” said the Warden. “I’ve waited this long, I can wait another few . . .” Her voice trailedoff.
Stanley felt a lizard crawl in and out of his pocket.
“We’re going to keep our story simple,” said the Warden. “That woman’s going to ask a lot of questions.
The A.G. will most likely initiate an investigation. So this is what happened: Stanley tried to run away in the night, fell in a hole, and the lizards got him. That’s it. We’re not even going to give them Zero’s body.
As far as anybody knows, Zero doesn’t exist. Like Mom said, we got plenty of graves to choose from.”
“Why would he run away if he knew he was getting released today?” asked Mr. Pendanski.
“Who knows? He’s crazy. That was why we couldn’t release him yesterday. He was delirious, and we had to keep watch over him so he wouldn’t hurt himself or anybody else.”
“She’s not going to like it,” said Mr. Pendanski.
“She’s not going to like anything we tell her,” said the Warden. She stared at Zero and at the suitcase.
“Why aren’t you dead yet?” she asked.
Stanley only half listened to the talk of the counselors. He didn’t know who “that woman” was or what “A.G.” meant. He didn’t even realize they were initials. It sounded like one word, “Age-ee.” His mind was focused on the tiny claws that moved up and down his skin and through his hair.
He tried to think about other things. He didn’t want to die with the images of the Warden, Mr. Sir, and the lizards etched into his brain. Instead, he tried to see his mother’s face.
His brain took him back to a time when he was very little, all bundled up in a snowsuit. He and his mother were walking, hand in hand, mitten in mitten, when they both slipped on some ice and fell and rolled down a snow-covered hillside. They ended up at the bottom of the hill. He remembered he almost cried, but instead he laughed. His mother laughed, too.
He could feel the same light-headed feeling he felt then, dizzy from rolling down the hill. He felt the sharp coldness of the snow against his ear. He could see flecks of snow on his mother’s bright and cheery face.
This was where he wanted to be when he died.
“Hey, Caveman, guess what?” said Mr. Sir. “You’re innocent, after all. I thought you’d like to know that.
Your lawyer came to get you yesterday. Too bad you weren’t here.”
The words meant nothing to Stanley, who was still in the snow. He and his mother climbed back up the hill and rolled down again, this time on purpose. Later they had hot chocolate with lots of melted marshmallows.
“It’s getting close to 4:30,” said Mr. Pendanski. “They’ll be waking up.”
The Warden told the counselors to return to the tents. She told them to give the campers breakfast and to make sure they didn’t talk to anyone. As long as they did as they were told, they wouldn’t have to dig any more holes. If they talked, they would be severely punished.”How should we say they will be punished?” one of the counselors asked.
“Let them use their imaginations,” said the Warden.
Stanley watched the counselors return to the tents, leaving only the Warden and Mr. Sir behind. He knew the Warden didn’t care whether the campers dug any more holes or not. She’d found what she was looking for.
He glanced at Zero. A lizard was perched on his shoulder.
Zero remained perfectly still except for his right hand, which slowly formed into a fist. Then he raised his thumb, giving Stanley the thumbs-up sign.
Stanley thought back to what Mr. Sir had said to him earlier, and the bits of conversation he’d overheard. He tried to make sense out of it. Mr. Sir had said something about a lawyer, but Stanley knew his parents couldn’t afford a lawyer.
His legs were sore from remaining rigid for so long. Standing still was more strenuous than walking. He slowly allowed himself to lean against the side of the hole.
The lizards didn’t seem to mind.
The sun was up, and Stanley’s heart was still beating. There were eight lizards in the hole with him. Each one had exactly eleven yellow spots.
The Warden had dark circles under her eyes from Jack of sleep, and lines across her forehead and face which seemed exaggerated in the stark morning light. Her skin looked blotchy.
“Satan, “said Zero.
Stanley looked at him, unsure if Zero had even spoken or if he’d just imagined it.
“Why don’t you go see if you can take the suitcase from Zero,” the Warden suggested.
“Yeah, right,” said Mr. Sir.
“The lizards obviously aren’t hungry,” said the Warden.
“Then you go get the suitcase,” said Mr. Sir.
“Sa-tan lee,” said Zero.Sometime later Stanley saw a tarantula crawl across the dirt, not too far from his hole. He had never seen a tarantula before, but there was no doubt what it was. He was momentarily fascinated by it, as its big hairy body moved slowly and steadily along.
“Look, a tarantula,” said Mr. Sir, also fascinated.
“I’ve never seen one,” said the Warden. “Except in—”
Stanley suddenly felt a sharp sting on the side of his neck.
The lizard hadn’t bitten him, however. It was merely pushing off.
It leapt off Stanley’s neck and pounced on the tarantula. The last Stanley saw of it was one hairy leg sticking out of the lizard’s mouth.
“Not hungry, huh?” said Mr. Sir.
Stanley tried to return to the snow, but it was harder to get there when the sun was up.
As the sun rose, the lizards moved lower in the hole, keeping mainly in the shade. They were no longer on his head and shoulders but had moved down to his stomach, legs, and feet.
He couldn’t see any lizards on Zero, but believed there were two, between Zero’s knees, shaded from the sun by the suitcase.
“How are you doing?” Stanley asked quietly. He didn’t whisper, but his voice was dry and raspy.
“My legs are numb,” said Zero.
“I’m going to try to climb out of the hole,” Stanley said.
As he tried to pull himself up, using just his arms, he felt a claw dig into his ankle. He gently eased himself back down.
“Is your last name your first name backward?” Zero asked.
Stanley stared at him in amazement. Had he been working on that all night?
He heard the sound of approaching cars.
Mr. Sir and the Warden heard it as well.
“You think it’s them?” asked the Warden.
“It ain’t Girl Scouts selling cookies,” said Mr. Sir.He heard the cars come to a stop, and the doors open and shut. A little while later he saw Mr.
Pendanski and two strangers, coming across the lake. One was a tall man in a business suit and cowboy hat. The other was a short woman holding a briefcase. The woman had to take three steps for every two taken by the man. “Stanley Yelnats?” she called, moving out ahead of the others.
“I suggest you don’t come any closer,” said Mr. Sir.
“You can’t stop me,” she snapped, then took a second glance at him, wearing pajama pants and nothing else. “We’ll get you out of there, Stanley,” she said. “Don’t you worry.” She appeared to be Hispanic, with straight black hair and dark eyes. She spoke with a little bit of a Mexican accent, trilling her r’s.
“What in tarnation?” the tall man exclaimed, as he came up behind her.
She turned on him. “I’m telling you right now, if any harm comes to him, we will be filing charges not only against Ms. Walker and Camp Green Lake but the entire state of Texas as well. Child abuse. False imprisonment. Torture.”
The man was more than a head taller than she, and was able to look directly over her as he spoke to the Warden.
“How long have they been in there?”
“All night, as you can see by the way we’re dressed. They snuck into my cabin while I was asleep, and stole my suitcase. I chased after them, and they ran out here and fell into the lizards’ nest. I don’t know what they were thinking.”
“That’s not true!” Stanley said.
“Stanley, as your attorney, I advise you not to say anything,” said the woman, “until you and I have had a chance to talk in private.”
Stanley wondered why the Warden lied about the suitcase. He wondered who it legally belonged to.
That was one thing he wanted to ask his lawyer, if she really was his lawyer.
“It’s a miracle they’re still alive,” said the tall man.
“Yes, it is,” the Warden agreed, with just a trace of disappointment in her voice.
“And they better come out of this alive,” Stanley’s lawyer warned. “This wouldn’t have happened if you’d released him to me yesterday.”
“It wouldn’t have happened if he wasn’t a thief,” said the Warden. “I told him he would be set free today, and I guess he decided he’d try to take some of my valuables with him. He’s been delirious for the last week.”
“Why didn’t you release him when she came to you yesterday?” the tall man asked.
“She didn’t have proper authorization,” said the Warden.”I had a court order!”
“It was not authenticated,” the Warden said.
“Authenticated? It was signed by the judge who sentenced him.”
“I needed authentication from the Attorney General,” said the Warden. “How do I know it’s legitimate?
The boys in my custody have proven themselves dangerous to society. Am I supposed to just turn them loose any time someone hands me a piece of paper?”
“Yes,” said the woman. “If it’s a court order.”
“Stanley has been hospitalized for the last few days,” the Warden explained. “He’s been suffering from hallucinations and delirium. Ranting and raving. He was in no condition to leave. The fact that he was trying to steal from me on the day before his release proves . . .”
Stanley tried to climb out of his hole, using mostly his arms so as not to disturb the lizards too much. As he pulled himself upward, the lizards moved downward, keeping out of the sun’s direct rays. He swung his legs up and over, and the last of the lizards hopped off.
“Thank God!” exclaimed the Warden. She started toward him, then stopped.
A lizard crawled out of his pocket and down his leg.
Stanley was overcome by a rush of dizziness and almost fell over. He steadied himself, then reached down, took hold of Zero’s arm, and helped him slowly to his feet. Zero still held the suitcase.
The lizards, which had been hiding under it, scurried quickly into the hole.
Stanley and Zero staggered away.
The Warden rushed to them. She hugged Zero. “Thank God, you’re alive,” she said, as she tried to take the suitcase from him.
He jerked it free. “It belongs to Stanley,” he said.
“Don’t cause any more trouble,” the Warden warned. “You stole it from my cabin, and you’ve been caught red-handed. If I press charges, Stanley might have to return to prison. Now I’m willing, in view of all the circumstances, to—”
“It’s got his name on it,” said Zero.
Stanley’s lawyer pushed past the tall man to have a look.
“See,” Zero showed her. “Stanley Yelnats.”
Stanley looked, too. There, in big black letters, was STANLEY YELNATS.
The tall man looked over the heads of the others at the name on the suitcase. “You say he stole it from your cabin?”The Warden stared at it in disbelief. “That’s im . . . imposs . . . It’s imposs . . .” She couldn’t even say it.
They slowly walked back to camp. The tall man was the Texas Attorney General, the chief law enforcement officer for the state. Stanley’s lawyer was named Ms. Morengo.
Stanley held the suitcase. He was so tired he couldn’t think straight. He felt as if he was walking in a dream, not quite able to comprehend what was going on around him.
They stopped in front of the camp office. Mr. Sir went inside to get Stanley’s belongings. The Attorney General told Mr. Pendanski to get the boys something to drink and eat.
The Warden seemed as dazed as Stanley. “You can’t even read,” she said to Zero.
Zero said nothing.
Ms. Morengo put a hand on Stanley’s shoulder and told him to hang in there. He would be seeing his parents soon.
She was shorter than Stanley, but somehow gave the appearance of being tall.
Mr. Pendanski returned with two cartons of orange juice and two bagels. Stanley drank the juice but didn’t feel like eating anything.
“Wait!” the Warden exclaimed. “I didn’t say they stole the suitcase. It’s his suitcase, obviously, but he put my things from my cabin inside it.”
“That isn’t what you said earlier,” said Ms. Morengo.
“What’s in the suitcase?” the Warden asked Stanley. “Tell us what’s in it, then we’ll open it and see!”
Stanley didn’t know what to do.
“Stanley, as your lawyer, I advise you not to open your suitcase,” said Ms. Morengo.
“He has to open it!” said the Warden. “I have the right to check the personal property of any of the detainees. How do I know there aren’t drugs or weapons in there? He stole a car, too! I’ve got witnesses!” She was nearly hysterical.
“He is no longer under your jurisdiction,” said Stanley’s lawyer.
“He has not been officially released,” said the Warden. “Open the suitcase, Stanley!”
“Do not open it,” said Stanley’s lawyer.Stanley did nothing.
Mr. Sir returned from the office with Stanley’s backpack and clothes.
The Attorney General handed Ms. Morengo a sheet of paper. “You’re free to go,” he said to Stanley. “I know you’re anxious to get out of here, so you can just keep the orange suit as a souvenir. Or burn it, whatever you want. Good luck, Stanley.”
He reached out his hand to shake, but Ms. Morengo hurried Stanley away. “C’mon, Stanley,” she said.
“We have a lot to talk about.”
Stanley stopped and turned to look at Zero. He couldn’t just leave him here.
Zero gave him thumbs-up.
“I can’t leave Hector,” Stanley said.
“I suggest we go,” said his lawyer with a sense of urgency in her voice.
“I’ll be okay,” said Zero. His eyes shifted toward Mr. Pendanski on one side of him, then to the Warden and Mr. Sir on the other. ‘
“There’s nothing I can do for your friend,” said Ms. Morengo. “You are released pursuant to an order from the judge.”
“They’ll kill him,” said Stanley.
“Your friend is not in danger,” said the Attorney General. “There’s going to be an investigation into everything that’s happened here. For the present, I am taking charge of the camp.”
“C’mon, Stanley,” said his lawyer. “Your parents are waiting.”
Stanley stayed where he was.
His lawyer sighed. “May I have a look at Hector’s file?” she asked.
“Certainly,” said the Attorney General. “Ms. Walker, go get Hector’s file.”
She looked at him blankly.
The Warden turned to Mr. Pendanski. “Bring me Hector Zeroni’s file.”
He stared at her.
“Get it!” she ordered.
Mr. Pendanski went into the office. He returned a few minutes later and announced the file was apparently misplaced.The Attorney General was outraged. “What kind of camp are you running here, Ms. Walker?”
The Warden said nothing. She stared at the suitcase.
The Attorney General assured Stanley’s lawyer that he would get the records. “Excuse me, while I call my office.” He turned back to the Warden. “I assume the phone works.” He walked into the camp office, slamming the door behind him. A little while later he reappeared and told the Warden he wanted to talk to her.
She cursed, then went inside.
Stanley gave Zero thumbs-up.
“Caveman? Is that you?”
He turned to see Armpit and Squid coming out of the Wreck Room. Squid shouted back into the Wreck Room, “Caveman and Zero are out here!”
Soon all the boys from Group D had gathered around him and Zero.
“Good to see you, man,” Armpit said, shaking his hand. “We thought you were buzzard food.”
“Stanley is being released today,” said Mr. Pendanski.
“Way to go,” said Magnet, hitting him on the shoulder.
“And you didn’t even have to step on a rattlesnake,” said Squid.
Even Zigzag shook Stanley’s hand. “Sorry about . . . you know.”
“It’s cool,” said Stanley.
“We had to lift the truck clear out of the hole,” Zigzag told him. “It took everybody in C, D, and E. We just picked it right up.”
“It was really cool,” said Twitch.
X-Ray was the only one who didn’t come over. Stanley saw him hang back behind the others a moment, then return to the Wreck Room.
“Guess what?” said Magnet, glancing at Mr. Pendanski. “Mom says we don’t have to dig any more holes.”
“That’s great,” Stanley said.
“Will you do me a favor?” asked Squid.
“I guess,” Stanley agreed, somewhat hesitantly.
“I want you to—” He turned to Ms. Morengo. “Hey, lady, you have a pen and paper I can borrow?”She gave it to him, and Squid wrote down a phone number which he gave to Stanley. “Call my mom for me, okay? Tell her . . . Tell her I said I was sorry. Tell her Alan said he was sorry.”
Stanley promised he would.
“Now you be careful out in the real world,” said Armpit. “Not everybody is as nice as us.”
The boys departed when the Warden came out of the office. The Attorney General was right behind her.
“My office is having some difficulty locating Hector Zeroni’s records,” the Attorney General said.
“So you have no claim of authority over him?” asked Ms. Morengo.
“I didn’t say that. He’s in the computer. We just can’t access his records. It’s like they’ve fallen through a hole in cyberspace.”
“A hole in cyberspace,” Ms. Morengo repeated. “How interesting. When is his release date?”
“I don’t know.”
“How long has he been here?”
“Like I said, we can’t—”
“So what are you planning to do with him? Keep him confined indefinitely, without justification, while you go crawling through black holes in cyberspace?”
The Attorney General stared at her. “He was obviously incarcerated for a reason.”
“Oh? And what reason was that?”
The Attorney General said nothing.
Stanley’s lawyer took hold of Zero’s hand. “C’mon, Hector, you’re coming with us.”
There never used to be yellow-spotted lizards in the town of Green Lake. They didn’t come to the area until after the lake dried up. But the townsfolk had heard about the “red-eyed monsters” living in the desert hills.
One afternoon, Sam, the onion man, and his donkey, Mary Lou, were returning to his boat, which wasanchored just a little off shore. It was late in November and the peach trees had lost most of their leaves.
“Sam!” someone called.
He turned around to see three men running after him, waving their hats. He waited. “Afternoon, Walter.
Bo, Jesse,” he greeted them, as they walked up, catching their breath, “Glad we caught you,” said Bo. “We’re going rattlesnake hunting in the morning.”
“We want to get some of your lizard juice,” said Walter.
“I ain’t a-scared of no rattlesnake,” said Jesse. “But I don’t want to come across one of those red-eyed monsters. I seen one once, and that was enough. I knew about the red eyes, of course. I hadn’t heard about the big black teeth.”
“It’s the white tongues that get me,” said Bo.
Sam gave each man two bottles of pure onion juice. He told them to drink one bottle before going to bed that night, then a half bottle in the morning, and then a half bottle around lunchtime.
“You sure this stuff works?” asked Walter.
“I tell you what,” said Sam. “If it doesn’t, you can come back next week and I’ll give you your money back.”
Walter looked around unsure, as Bo and Jesse laughed. Then Sam laughed, too. Even Mary Lou let out a rare hee-haw.
“Just remember,” Sam told the men before they left. “It’s very important you drink a bottle tonight. You got to get it into your bloodstream. The lizards don’t like onion blood.”
Stanley and Zero sat in the backseat of Ms. Morengo’s BMW. The suitcase lay between them. It was locked, and they decided they’d let Stanley’s father try to open it in his workshop.
“You don’t know what’s in it, do you?” she asked.
“No,” said Stanley.
“I didn’t think so.”
The air-conditioning was on, but they drove with the windows open as well, because, “No offense, but you boys really smell bad.”
Ms. Morengo explained that she was a patent attorney. “I’m helping your father with the new product he’s invented. He happened to mention your situation, so I did a little investigating. Clyde Livingston’s sneakers were stolen sometime before 3:15. I found a young man, Derrick Dunne, who said that at 3:20 you were in the bathroom fishing your notebook out of the toilet. Two girls remembered seeing you come out of the boys’ restroom carrying a wet notebook.”Stanley felt his ears redden. Even after everything he’d been through, the memory still caused him to feel shame.
“So you couldn’t have stolen them,” said Ms. Morengo.
“He didn’t. I did,” said Zero.
“You did what?” asked Ms. Morengo.
“I stole the sneakers.”
The lawyer actually turned around while driving and looked at him. “I didn’t hear that,” she said. “And I advise you to make sure I don’t hear it again.”
“What did my father invent?” Stanley asked. “Did he find a way to recycle sneakers?”
“No, he’s still working on that,” explained Ms. Morengo. “But he invented a product that eliminates foot odor. Here, I’ve got a sample in my briefcase. I wish I had more. You two could bathe in it.”
She opened her briefcase with one hand and passed a small bottle back to Stanley. It had a fresh and somewhat spicy smell. He handed it to Zero.
“What’s it called?” Stanley asked.
“We haven’t come up with a name yet,” said Ms. Morengo.
“It smells familiar,” said Zero.
“Peaches, right?” asked Ms. Morengo. “That’s what everyone says.”
A short while later both boys fell asleep. Behind them the sky had turned dark, and for the first time in over a hundred years, a drop of rain fell into the empty lake.
FILLING IN THE HOLES
Stanley’s mother insists that there never was a curse. She even doubts whether Stanley’s great-great-grandfather really stole a pig. The reader might find it interesting, however, that Stanley’sfather invented his cure for foot odor the day after the great-great-grandson of Elya Yelnats carried the great-great-great-grandson of Madame Zeroni up the mountain.
The Attorney General closed Camp Green Lake. Ms. Walker, who was in desperate need of money, had to sell the land which had been in her family for generations. It was bought by a national organization dedicated to the well-being of young girls. In a few years, Camp Green Lake will become a Girl Scout camp.
This is pretty much the end of the story. The reader probably still has some questions, but unfortunately, from here on in, the answers tend to be long and tedious. While Mrs. Bell, Stanley’s former math teacher, might want to know the percent change in Stanley’s weight, the reader probably cares more about the change in Stanley’s character and self-confidence. But those changes are subtle and hard to measure.
There is no simple answer.
Even the contents of the suitcase turned out to be somewhat tedious. Stanley’s father pried it open in his workshop, and at first everyone gasped at the sparkling jewels. Stanley thought he and Hector had become millionaires. But the jewels were of poor quality, worth no more than twenty thousand dollars.
Underneath the jewels was a stack of papers that had once belonged to the first Stanley Yelnats. These consisted of stock certificates, deeds of trust, and promissory notes. They were hard to read and even more difficult to understand. Ms. Morengo’s law firm spent more than two months going through all the papers.
They turned out to be a lot more valuable than the jewels. After legal fees and taxes, Stanley and Zero each received less than a million dollars.
But not a lot less.
It was enough for Stanley to buy his family a new house, with a laboratory in the basement, and for Hector to hire a team of private investigators.
But it would be boring to go through all the tedious details of all the changes in their lives. Instead, the reader will be presented with one last scene, which took place almost a year and a half after Stanley and Hector left Camp Green Lake.
You will have to fill in the holes yourself.
There was a small party at the Yelnats house. Except for Stanley and Hector, everyone there was an adult. All kinds of snacks and drinks were set out on the counter, including caviar, champagne, and the fixings to make ice cream sundaes.
The Super Bowl was on television, but nobody was really watching.
“It should be coming on at the next break,” Ms. Morengo announced.A time-out was called in the football game, and a commercial came on the screen.
Everyone stopped talking and watched.
The commercial showed a baseball game. Amid a cloud of dust, Clyde Livingston slid into home plate as the catcher caught the ball and tried to tag him out.
“Safe!” shouted the umpire as he signaled with his arms.
The people at Stanley’s house cheered, as if the run really counted.
Clyde Livingston got up and dusted the dirt off his uniform. As he made his way back to the dugout, he spoke to the camera. “Hi, I’m Clyde Livingston, but everyone around here calls me ‘Sweet Feet.’”
“Way to go, Sweet Feet!” said another baseball player, slapping his hand.
Besides being on the television screen, Clyde Livingston was also sitting on the couch next to Stanley.
“But my feet weren’t always sweet,” the television Clyde Livingston said as he sat down on the dugout bench. “They used to smell so bad that nobody would sit near me in the dugout.”
“They really did stink,” said the woman sitting on the couch on the other side of Clyde. She held her nose with one hand, and fanned the air with the other.
Clyde shushed her.
“Then a teammate told me about Sploosh,” said the television Clyde. He pulled a can of Sploosh out from under the dugout bench and held it up for everyone to see. “I just spray a little on each foot every morning, and now I really do have sweet feet. Plus, I like the tingle.”
“Sploosh,” said a voice. “A treat for your feet. Made from all natural ingredients, it neutralizes odor-causing fungi and bacteria. Plus, you’ll like the tingle.”
Everyone at the party clapped their hands.
“He wasn’t lying,” said the woman who sat next to Clyde. “I couldn’t even be in the same room with his socks.”
The other people at the party laughed.
The woman continued. “I’m not joking. It was so bad—”
“You’ve made your point,” said Clyde, covering her mouth with his hand. He looked back at Stanley.
“Will you do me a favor, Stanley?”
Stanley raised and lowered his left shoulder.
“I’m going to get more caviar,” said Clyde. “Keep your hand over my wife’s mouth.” He patted Stanley on the shoulder as he rose from the couch.
Stanley looked uncertainly at his hand, then at Clyde Livingston’s wife.She winked at him.
He felt himself blush, and turned away toward Hector, who was sitting on the floor in front of an overstuffed chair.
A woman sitting in the chair behind Hector was absent-mindedly fluffing his hair with her fingers. She wasn’t very old, but her skin had a weathered look to it, almost like leather. Her eyes seemed weary, as if she’d seen too many things in her life that she didn’t want to see. And when she smiled, her mouth seemed too big for her face.
Very softly, she half sang, half hummed a song that her grandmother used to sing to her when she was a little girl.
If only, if only, the moon speaks no reply;
Reflecting the sun and all that’s gone by.
Be strong my weary wolf, turn around boldly.
Fly high, my baby bird,
My angel, my only.
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