Stanley Yelnats' Survival Guide to Camp Green Lake

by Louis Sachar

  And if that was how I felt, it was probably ten times worse for the other guys who had girlfriends back home. Or, if not girlfriends, at least girls who would talk to them.

  But you can’t think about what’s at the other end of the road. The road is too long.

  We were out there one day, digging not too far from the road. Magnet just kept stopping and staring. It was like he was hypnotized. I was usually the slowest digger, but when the lunch break came, my hole was a foot deeper than Magnet’s.

  “Man, you got to snap out of it,” X-Ray warned him. “You’ll be out here all day.”

  “I’m leaving this place,” Magnet declared.

  “There’s only one way out of here,” X-Ray said.

  “Down that road,” said Magnet.

  “In a coffin,” said X-Ray.

  Magnet just kept staring down the road. “Next time the supply truck comes and goes,” he said, “I’ll jump on the back bumper and ride all the way to San Antonio.”

  “Supply truck’s coming today,” said Zigzag. “It’s been two weeks.”

  Somehow, Zigzag always knew the day of the week. Maybe it had something to do with his TV schedule.

  “You ain’t goin’ nowhere,” said X-Ray.

  We heard the truck before we saw it: a low rumble way off in the distance. Then the dust cloud appeared just above the horizon. Fifteen minutes later the truck lumbered by.

  Magnet climbed out of his hole.

  “How you gonna jump on a moving truck?” Squid asked.

  “I’m gonna dig a ditch across the road,” he said. “The truck’ll have to slow down.”

  I pointed out that the truck driver might get suspicious, since the ditch wasn’t there when he drove in.

  “It’s a long, old road,” said Magnet. “You think the driver remembers every pothole?”

  Armpit seemed especially worried. “The truck will go really fast. How are you going be able to stand on a bumper of a fast-moving truck for hundreds of miles?”

  Magnet smiled. “I’m a human magnet,” he said. “Besides, they probably leave the truck unlatched. I’ll just slip inside.”

  “You ain’t goin’ nowhere,” said X-Ray.

  “Just watch me,” said Magnet, and taking his shovel, he headed for the road.

  I did watch him, for a while. As I dug my hole, I could see him digging his ditch. I felt like a part of me was out there digging with him.

  I knew the Warden would punish all of us. If nothing else, we’d have to dig Magnet’s hole. But I didn’t worry about that for the moment. If Magnet could get away, it was like a part of me would be free, too.

  I wasn’t worried about Mr. Sir or Mr. Pendanski coming by. I knew they were busy with the supply truck. The counselors always took the best stuff for themselves.

  After a while, I couldn’t see Magnet anymore. He must have finished the ditch and been hiding behind a dirt pile nearby.

  I was about chest high in my hole when the truck came barreling down the road. A huge dust cloud trailed behind it. We climbed out of our holes to watch.

  The truck suddenly braked sharply, and I heard Zero whisper, “All right.” I felt really nervous, like I was the one about to jump on the back.

  But I couldn’t see what happened. The dust cloud caught up with and encircled the braking truck as it bounced over the ditch. Then the truck picked up speed and thundered off, the cloud of dust swirling behind it.

  “Anyone see him?” asked Armpit.

  “Yeah, he jumped on the back and stuck to it like a magnet on a refrigerator,” said Zigzag.

  “Yeah, well just ‘cause Zigzag sees something doesn’t mean it’s there,” said X-Ray.

  “And just because you don’t see something doesn’t mean it’s not there,” said Zigzag.

  I returned to my hole but continued to watch the truck until it disappeared over the horizon. I finished digging, took my shower, then hung out in the Wreck Room until dinner. Nobody spoke about Magnet, in case the Warden was listening, but we were all thinking about him.

  He showed up halfway through dinner. He just walked into the mess hall, still in his sweaty uniform, got his tray of food, and plopped down at our table. The only thing he said was “Pass the ketchup.”

  We stared at him.

  “Good to see you, buddy,” said X-Ray. “Didn’t you hear him, Squid? Give the man some ketchup.”

  Survival Test Four

  What happened to Magnet?

  A: He hid behind a dirt pile and watched the truck go by, too scared to try to jump on it. Ashamed, he waited until we all returned to the camp compound, then finished digging his hole.

  B: He jumped on the back bumper but immediately fell off. He lay in the road, defeated, as he watched the truck drive away. Bruised and ashamed, he waited until we all finished digging, then returned to his hole.

  C: He jumped on the back bumper and had ridden for about a mile when suddenly the truck hit a bump in the road and he fell off, nearly killing himself. He limped back down the road, then finished digging his hole.

  D: He jumped on the back bumper and held on to the latch. As the truck picked up speed, he got more and more scared. Before the truck reached an unsafe speed, he jumped off, hit the road hard, then bounced and rolled down the road. He lay there awhile, waiting for someone to come get him. When no one did, he pulled himself to his feet, limped back down the road, and finished digging his hole.

  E: He jumped on the back bumper, opened the latch, and slipped inside, only to find workers playing cards. He was taken to Mr. Pendanski, who lectured him, then to Mr. Sir, who yelled at him, then to the Warden, who punished him, and then he had to finish digging his hole.

  answer to test four

  I don’t know. I’m as curious as you are, but I never found out. If Magnet had wanted to tell us, he would have. The important thing is this: If you’re going to survive Camp Green Lake, you just can’t ask too many questions.

  10

  Rattlesnakes

  Types of rattlesnakes: It may be helpful for you to know the different kinds of rattlesnakes found at Camp Green Lake and to be able to recognize each type by its color and distinct markings. Unfortunately, I can’t help you there. When it comes to rattlesnakes, I’m basically a blubbering idiot. All I ever notice are the two ends, the rattle and the mouth. I can’t tell you much about the middle.

  I think they’re pretty much the color of sand, which is pretty much the color of everything else at Camp Green Lake. I’ve heard Mr. Pendanski refer to one as a diamondback, so it’s a good bet it has diamond markings on its back.

  Another type is the sidewinder, which I can recognize not by its markings but by the way it moves. When a sidewinder is chasing after you, it doesn’t keep its body in a straight line. Instead, it looks like a series of S curves, which slither very rapidly with a wavelike motion. I wish I could give you a better description, but I don’t have eyes in the back of my head.

  The coiled rattlesnake: Most rattlesnakes I saw were in a coil. This is the snake’s most dangerous position, because of how quickly it can become uncoiled. Usually, the snake will see you before you see it. That’s good. If you saw it first, you might already be too close.

  When the snake sees you, its tail will begin to rattle. You can see the rattle sticking straight up from somewhere in the middle of the coil. The rattles are four to six inches long. Imagine trying to shake a baby’s rattle as fast as you can for as long as you can. Your arm would get tired after thirty seconds. The snake’s tail rattles much faster, about ten rattles per second, and it doesn’t seem to get tired. It would be interesting to know how long a rattlesnake can keep on rattling, but that would require sticking around.

  Also rising up from the coil will be the head. As you circle around a coiled snake, the raised head will turn 360 degrees, watching you; the snake’s mouth will be open, its forked tongue darting in and out between two large fangs.

  Even a dead rattlesnake can bite you. Rattlesnakes are not the most i
ntelligent creatures on the planet. If their sensors detect danger, they strike. It’s just a reflex. They don’t think about it. If a rattlesnake has been recently killed, some of its nerve endings may still be working. If you try to pick up a dead rattlesnake, it may still bite you, as a reflex.

  What to do if you are bitten by a rattlesnake: Don’t panic. The good news is that one way or another, you are about to leave Camp Green Lake.

  “What do you think Barf Bag is doing right now?”

  That question was asked my first night in D tent. Barf Bag had stepped on a rattlesnake. I was his replacement.

  “I bet he’s lying in a hospital bed, watching television,” said Zigzag.

  “On clean sheets,” said Armpit.

  “Drinking milk shakes through a straw,” said Squid.

  “Beautiful nurses come by every fifteen minutes,” said Magnet. “And gently pat his head with cool washcloths.”

  “Or else, he’s dead,” said X-Ray.

  We must have had a hundred similar conversations during my time at the camp. Whenever anyone was feeling lonely or desperate, he’d ask, “What do you think Barf Bag’s doing right now?” And then we’d all try to imagine. I guess it helped.

  I don’t recommend taking Barf Bag’s approach. If a rattler bites you, you will need medical treatment as soon as possible. If someone is coming for you, you should lie down, keeping the snakebite below your heart. If you have to go back to camp, take it slow and easy.

  The nearest hospital to Camp Green Lake is over a hundred miles away; however, they have a helicopter. It’s about an hour-and-a-half trip each way. In the meantime, the Warden keeps a supply of antivenin.

  Antivenin is made from rattlesnake venom. Scientists inject tiny doses of snake venom into a horse until the horse becomes immune. The antivenin is then derived from the horse’s blood.

  Mr. Sir sometimes catches rattlesnakes and brings them to the Warden. The Warden extracts the venom herself. X-Ray watched her do it one time.

  With one hand, she held the live rattlesnake right behind its head. In her other hand, she held a beaker with a thin piece of rubber stretched over it. She then brought the beaker toward the snake. The snake struck at it. Its fangs pierced the rubber cover, and venom squirted into the beaker.

  The Warden showed X-Ray the snake’s venom glands, which were located right behind its eyes. She gently stroked the glands, causing more venom to fill the beaker.

  “It was really cool,” he told us.

  I don’t know if the Warden used any of this venom to make antivenin. I think it was mainly used for cosmetics.

  11

  Twitch

  Twitch did everything wrong. He is a good example of how not to survive. He was Zero’s replacement.

  When he was brought to D tent, he immediately began poking through all the crates. “What’s this for?” he kept asking as he touched all our stuff. “March 22, 1998? I think you can throw this away.” He tossed the TV Guide on the floor. “Whose octopus?”

  The tent door slammed in his face.

  Twitch’s biggest problem was that he had too much nervous energy. He couldn’t sit still. X-Ray named him Twitch because some part of his body was always twitching.

  We tested him. “See if you can sit perfectly still for five minutes,” Armpit challenged. “No moving.”

  Twitch sat on his cot, Zero’s cot, and tried not to move a muscle.

  Nobody had a watch, but Zigzag said he’d count to five hundred. “One Mississippi, two Mississippi …”

  If Zero had still been there, he might have pointed out that Zigzag should count to three hundred. Zero was good at math, but knowing Zero, he probably wouldn’t have said anything. Of course if Zero had still been there, then Twitch wouldn’t have been.

  “… Twenty-two Mississippi. Twenty-three Mississippi.”

  The muscles on Twitch’s face jumped and fluttered. His eyes blinked constantly. I thought I saw his ear wiggle. “I have a cousin who lives in McGehee, Arkansas,” he suddenly blurted out. “We’d go and drive four-wheelers down by the Mississippi River.”

  “Shhh,” Armpit whispered.

  Twitch really tried. He just couldn’t do it. Zigzag was at seventy-three Mississippi when Twitch abruptly stood up and said he’d had enough.

  Magnet said he thought that instead of blood, Twitch had coffee in his veins.

  “I guess I’m a little nervous,” Twitch admitted.

  “Seventy-three seconds,” said Zigzag. “He couldn’t even last a minute.”

  You should never do anything fast at Camp Green Lake. Walk, don’t run. Even if a sidewinder is coming after you, you just walk quickly out of the way. Always look where you’re going. The last thing you want to do is run away from a rattlesnake and into a yellow-spotted lizard.

  Twitch did everything way too fast. He moved in quick, jerky steps and was always looking from side to side, never in front of him. He even talked fast.

  “What’s your deal, Zigzag? Anyone ever tell you, you look kind of weird? You should do something with your hair, man, if you know what I mean. So, what’s the worst crime anyone did here? Any murderers?”

  “Quit bumping your gums,” X-Ray said, which was his way of telling Twitch to shut up.

  “Bumping my gums, that’s a good one. I’ll have to remember that. So what happened to Zero?”

  “You ask too many questions,” I told him.

  “I just want to know what happened. Why are you so touchy?”

  I didn’t feel like talking about it. Zero had become my best friend, and what happened to him had been my fault.

  Twitch ate fast, too. You should always eat slowly. It’s not about having good manners. You don’t know what you’re eating, and you may have to suddenly spit something out.

  He talked while he ate. “Five-foot holes. That’s a lotta dirt. Whew! I bet you get tired. How long does that take? About an hour?”

  “About,” I said.

  I could have told him the truth, but it didn’t matter. Twitch asked lots of questions but never stopped to listen to an answer.

  He tossed and turned all night in bed. I know. I was up all night worrying about Zero. But when the horn blew the next morning, Twitch jumped out of bed, ready to go.

  “Man, look at all the stars. That’s the Big Dipper. I never saw this many stars in Plano.”

  I tried to tell him he was better off keeping his eyes on the ground, but he didn’t listen.

  “That’s the Little Dipper. Hey, Armpit, what sign are you?”

  “This is my sign,” Armpit said, and gave him the finger.

  “Don’t talk so much,” Magnet said. “You got to save your strength.”

  “I never get tired,” said Twitch.

  “Well, you’re making me tired just listening to you,” said X-Ray.

  Out at the digging area, Mr. Sir gave Twitch the usual instructions. “You’re not finished until your hole is as deep and as wide as your shovel. If you dig up anything unusual, you’re to report it to me or Mr. Pendanski. The water truck will—”

  Twitch didn’t have the patience to listen. “Quit bumping your gums,” he said, “and show me where I’m supposed to dig.”

  We all stopped and stared. I don’t think I have to tell you that you don’t talk to Mr. Sir that way.

  But Mr. Sir just smiled, then made an X in the dirt with the heel of his boot. “Right here,” he said.

  I guess he knew he didn’t have to do anything to Twitch. Twitch would soon be suffering enough.

  As soon as Mr. Sir stepped away, Twitch’s shovel cut through the X and the dirt was flying. I’d never seen anyone dig so fast. Zero had been a fast digger, but it was never about speed. It was his steadiness that made him fast. His movements were smooth. He kept his rhythm and never wavered.

  Twitch dug in short, quick strokes. He was all arms and back. He’d stop and take long gulps of water, and even pour some water on his head.

  I tried to tell him he had to save his water,
but he wouldn’t listen. “Talk to me when your hole is as deep as mine!”

  He was right about that. His hole was twice as deep as mine was. He scooped up another shovelful of dirt and tossed it right where Armpit was digging.

  Armpit walked over to Twitch and threw a handful of dirt in his face. “Your dirt landed in my hole.” Then he walked back to his hole.

  “What’s his problem?” Twitch asked, wiping the dirt from his eye. He didn’t realize he’d gotten off easy. I hoped, for his sake, no more of his dirt would land in Armpit’s hole.

  I didn’t have to worry. It was right about then that Twitch started wearing down. His shovel got slower, and slower, and then, for the first time since he got to Camp Green Lake, Twitch stopped twitching.

  Then the moaning and groaning started. “My hands hurt. Ahggh. I can’t hold the shovel.” His voice was raspy, and all kinds of strange sounds came out of him. “Ahgha. Oy-yah. Anybody got any water they don’t want? Uhnnhhk. Caveman, can I have some of your water?”

  Yeah, right.

  “First hole’s the hardest,” I told him.

  That was a lie. The second hole is a lot harder. You’re tired and sore before you even crawl out of bed.

  The water truck came an hour later. Twitch used his last ounce of strength to drag himself out of his hole and scramble to the front of the line. But that isn’t how things are done at Camp Green Lake. You have to earn your place in line.

  X-Ray was always first, followed by Armpit, Squid, Zigzag, Magnet, and then me. I didn’t get in line that day, so Twitch took my place.

  I wish I could tell you if and how Twitch made it through the day, and if he survived Camp Green Lake, but I left the camp abruptly after the arrival of the water truck and went out searching for Zero. One of the last things I heard Twitch say was “Hey, check out this awesome lizard!”