Wacko Academy

by Faith Wilkins

  Soon I got bored of spying and went back to reading. Then something strange and totally unexpected happened. A head from the bunk over me popped out to look at me. It had a smiling face with jet-black pigtails. The skin was a soft milk chocolate.

  “How’s it goin’?” said the head. “My name’s Cattie. What’s yours?”

  Her hand appeared, reaching out to shake mine. I shook it with caution.

  “Hello. I’m Lily Mason.”

  She giggled with glee as if she was so excited to just find out my name. “Lily. That’s a beautiful name. I wish I had a name like that, but no. My name sounds like ‘cat.’ You know, I never really liked cats. They’re so furballish. Is that even a word? Nope. Don’t think so. Wow, I made up a word! Have you ever made up a word? Words are so fun. Even the word word is cool! You know . . .”

  She went on and on, her mouth running like a faucet. It was oddly fascinating to just watch her talk. Cattie had a gift of hopping from one topic to another in about three seconds. I wondered if she liked coffee, because she sure didn’t need any.

  “. . . and that’s why I hate vanilla icing,” she finally concluded.

  I stared at her in disbelief. How the heck had she gotten to that topic? Admittedly, I hadn’t really been listening. I was just watching her lips move. You’d think her lips were vibrating, she’d been talking so fast.

  Her smile was so full of life that I had to smile back. She made it seem like we weren’t at a boot camp at all, just a fun sleepaway camp. Good feelings and buoyancy seemed to emanate from her very being. Her pep was contagious and once in contact, unavoidable.

  “Come on up,” she insisted. “The top bunk is such a great place for chatting.”

  So I climbed to the bunk. Cattie was sitting Indian-style. Just like all the other girls, she wore a C.I.A.T. T-shirt and shorts. Beaded bracelets jingled on both arms. Three anklets dangled from her ankles. What kind of boot camp let the students wear that?

  “Lay ’em on me,” she said, leaning in a little too close.

  I leaned back. “What are you talking about?”

  She looked at me like I was being stupid. “Questions, of course. I know you have them about this place and all kinds of stuff. Why wouldn’t you?”

  She had a point there. I could tell she was completely serious, because she didn’t say another word. She sat completely still with her eyes set on me, waiting.

  “OK, maybe I do have a few questions.” I admitted. “First off, how long have you been at boot camp?”

  The talkative girl smiled. “I came just last night. Right in time for dinner. The food’s really good. Though not as good as my cook, Marie, but—”

  I cut her off. “Whoa. Whoa. Whoa. Hold up. You have a cook?”

  She nodded. “Uh-huh. You see, before I got here I lived with my mom. She’s some kind of politician or something. She used to leave me at home with Marie. We would play games and Marie would make me pastries and cakes. It was simply stupendous!” Cattie paused, reminiscing about the golden days. Then her smile turned into a frown. “But then Mom started to think that leaving me home with Marie wasn’t good enough. She hired babysitter after babysitter, but still she wasn’t satisfied. Then she met the headmaster of this school. He told her all about his ‘plans for the future’ and offered to take me in. A few days later I arrived here.”

  She flashed a megawatt smile, but it seemed kind of forced. Her eyes smoldered with rage. To tell you the truth, it kind of frightened me a bit. Then she blinked and her eyes were back to normal.

  I cleared my throat uneasily. “How long have you been here? Like, in this whole place.”

  Cattie furrowed her eyebrows, thinking. “Umm, I’d say about four months. You know, all these months and I still haven’t met the amazing Recruiter, A.K.A. Dustin, the headmaster’s son. Have you?”

  Before I could so much as open my mouth to speak, she slapped her palm to her forehead. “Well, duh, you’re The Girl.”

  “Does everybody know about me?” I inquired, lowering my voice to a hushed whisper.

  “Of course,” she whispered back. “Why wouldn’t everybody know about you? You’re all we’ve talked about since you got here.”

  Just great. I sighed. This was not the sort of fame that I wanted. In my daydreams, the whole world knew my name from magazines and TV screens. Yes, everybody knew Lily Mason the fashion designer and part-time musician who’d made a stunning singing debut. But never in my wildest dreams had I been known for this, being some kind of future queen of a horrible organization that I had no intention of ruling.

  The chatterbox frowned. “You OK there? You look a little sick. Maybe you should visit the nurse. She’s very nice, really. I’ll bring you to her. Don’t worry. We’re allowed.”

  I started to tell her that I was perfectly fine when her watch beeped. All the girls’ watches were beeping. They immediately began to tie their hair up and take off their jewelry.

  Cattie glanced at her watch. “Shoot. It’s time to get to the gym. Come on, follow me.” She appraised me up and down. “You need to change your clothes. Open your bag. They probably gave you a uniform.”

  I opened my bag and sure enough, there they were. Along with a watch like theirs. It too was beeping. Quick as a wink, I got dressed and secured the watch around my wrist. We marched out in a neat little line. The red-haired twins no longer chatted, but played a poking game. They kept stealing smug glances at each other and then me, giggling secretively like they knew some big inside joke.

  The corridors were long and narrow. When we finally entered the gym, I felt like I was about to explode. Those girls were seriously getting on my nerves with all that giggling, and I was sure the others felt the same way. Then I took a look around. A loud gasp escaped my lips before I could stop myself. I ignored the even louder chortles now coming from more than just the two redheads. The room had to be at least as big as two football fields. Hurdles, tires, shoots, ropes, sparring mats, and a whole bunch of other stuff hung from the ceilings and was scattered around the floor. Sergeant Buck stood right in the middle of it all, completely still. He didn’t even blink, his face stony and expressionless. I swear, he could have been a statue.

  Everyone filed in. Some kids I had seen around the premises. Others I had never seen before in my life. They all wore the same set of clothing, like a uniform. Since all the other kids stood as still as the sergeant, I tried to do the same.

  He slowly walked along the line of boys and girls, glaring at each and every one of us. “Today you train inside. Tomorrow will be a different story. I don’t care if it’s raining, snowing, hailing, or if there’s a tornado. All of you, and I mean all of you, will be outside workin’ your butts off tomorrow. Do you understand?!”

  We all yelled, “Yes, sir!” at the top of our lungs. Then we split up into the lines we had arrived in and stood at attention to wait for his orders.

  Sergeant Buck started shouting out stations for us to go to. I hurried along after my fellow bunkers. We had been sent to the giant net that went all the way up to the ceiling. At the very top, there was a buzzer that you were supposed to hit. A large mat had been placed at the bottom, but that wouldn’t help if someone fell from all the way up there. I looked around to see if there was any kind of harness or anything like that. Of course, there was not.

  My bunkmates stared at the huge net. One of the redheads cursed under her breath. The blonde girl looked like she was about to faint. I shot a glance toward Cattie. She stood there with her mouth open and her head tilted upward, just staring up at the thing.

  Sighing, I said, “Well, if no one else is going up, I guess I’ll go first.”

  The girls stared at me as I sauntered right on up to the net. Once my hands and feet were secure, I began to climb. When I was about halfway up, I started to feel kinda confident. That is, until Cattie so very kindly reminded me not to look down. I looked down. Everyone appeared to be tiny from up there. It was cool, but then I got dizzy. My vision grew slightl
y blurry and the room spun. My grip loosened, stomach flopping. I shivered and completely lost my hold for a moment. Drawing in a surprised breath, I frantically grasped at the net.

  “She’s gonna fall!” I heard someone say.

  Determined to prove them wrong, I managed to get a good hold on the net again. Before plowing on, I took a deep breath, tuning out everything around me. Nothing was going to stop me from touching that buzzer. After a great deal of heaving and climbing, I finally had the pleasure of slamming my hand on it. The girls cheered as I climbed back down, which was even scarier.

  By the time I had gotten down, the sergeant stood among them. He took a step toward me. I stiffened and stood at attention. Unfortunately, he kept coming toward me until he was uncomfortably close. He towered over me, glaring.

  “I suppose you think you’re all that now,” he spat, his expression hard.

  I began to say, “No, sir,” but he cut me off. “You’re not. You are just a scruffy little kid like the rest. So don’t expect any favors, kid.”

  He walked away, probably to drown some other person’s spirits.

  The iPod girl patted me on the shoulder. “Hey, don’t sweat it. That’s his way of complimenting you. You did great up there. My name’s Trudence, by the way. True for short.”

  She had a splash of brown freckles on her face and a mane of sandy hair. She waved and smiled at me as she went up next.

  After everyone had their turn on the Net O’ Horror, we moved on to the next station: the dreaded ropes. That was the one thing I could never do in P.E. True saw me staring at it like death itself and asked me what was wrong. I told her my dilemma.

  “Just try your best. If you don’t even try, you’ll get into serious trouble,” she said.

  I nodded, watching one of the terribly tiresome twins climb up the rope like some kind of monkey. Boy, was she fast. The other twin stood right under her, squealing and clapping with delight. Cattie and True rolled their eyes at the same time.

  Soon it was my turn. I gulped and put my hands around the rope. Pulling myself up took just about all of my strength. I tried and tried until my hands were raw. Just when I was near the top, I slid right back down. My hands really stung now, the palms bright red from rope burn.

  Cattie took a look at my hands over my shoulder. “Ooh. That looks like it hurts. You really should go to the nurse for that. I had to go last night for an injury. She has everything. Bandages, antibiotics, shots—you name it, she has it. Once, when I was in third grade, my friend and I were playing hopscotch and . . .”

  We all stopped listening and started to move on to the next station. She followed, still chattering to no one in particular. I stared at my hands. They seemed to sting even more. True urged me to ask to go to the nurse, so I hesitantly called the sergeant over. I showed him my hands. He told me to suck it up until training was over.

  I joined the group, fuming.

  “Wow, he’s being really hard on you,” Cattie mused.

  No, really? Thank you, Captain Obvious.

  True snapped her fingers, making me jump. “I know why.”

  She had our full attention.

  “Well, it’s most likely because you’re The Girl. He’s testing you to see if you’re up to it. Can’t believe I didn’t think about that before.”

  Weary of all this “The Girl” talk, I groaned. This whole thing was seriously getting on my nerves. Everywhere I went, that stupid name seemed to follow. Who even came up with that? What, did they get it from some kind of movie or something? Seriously. They could have at least come up with a better name.

  The rest of training was a whirlwind of sit-ups, crunches, push-ups, and other grueling torture. By the time Sergeant Buck blew the very loud whistle, my whole body ached. I was in so much pain that I could barely feel the rope burn anymore.

  Even when I protested that all I needed was rest, both True and Cattie insisted that I go to the nurse. So they led me down some hallways and through some rooms. The word nurse had been written in big letters on the door. She was a tiny but strongly built woman. She seemed friendly enough.

  “Hello. Call me Karen. Let’s see what we have here.”

  She took a look at my now blazing red palms. Nurse Karen clucked her tongue and reached for some ointment. It was cool and slimy against my skin, but the stuff made my hand feel better.

  While she slathered it on, I took a peek around the room. Rows and rows of medicines, ointments, bandages, and just about everything else lined the starch-white walls. There was a comfortable cot in the back of the room. All was neat and had been carefully organized.

  “There you go,” said the nurse once she’d finished. “In a few hours, that nasty rope burn will be gone for good.”

  I thanked her and, with one more appraising look around, left the room. Outside, I met up with True and Cattie. We headed back to our room.

  “So,” Cattie started, nudging me. “Tell us about Dustin.”

  The last thing I wanted to do was talk about him, but they both stared at me expectantly. With an exasperated sigh, I agreed to tell them about him when we got back.

  So, once in our room, we all piled onto Cattie’s bunk bed. I started from the beginning; when I first met him. The whole room turned silent as I told my story. Somehow I knew everyone was listening, not just True and Cattie. They hung on every word, squealing with fright or sighing at certain times. I felt like I was at a sleepover, gushing about some boy from school. Throughout the storytelling, I was interrupted quite a lot. Mostly by Cattie with remarks such as Wow, he sounds so dreamy. . . . What?! I so can’t believe he did that. . . . I can’t believe you did that! . . . How come you went there?

  And so on. I soon learned to ignore the comments.

  When I finished, all eyes were trained on me. I squirmed under their awed gazes. My chatty friend broke the silence by drowning me with a flood of questions. The rest of the girls groaned and left us to talk amongst ourselves.

  “I think he sounds like a conceited jerk. Look at what he’s done to you. There’s no way you can possibly believe he cares about you at all,” said True.

  Cattie bit her lip. “I don’t know about that. Maybe he’s not all that bad. I mean, he does sound really dreamy and maybe he’s nice.”

  True began to say something but I put my hand up to stop her. Then I turn my gaze toward Cattie. “It doesn’t matter how dreamy he is. He still brought me here, knowing what would happen. Then he lied to me again. You know what? I don’t even know what he wants from me. Dustin told me what his father wanted, but he didn’t say anything about what he wanted. The truth is, I don’t even care anymore. I just wanna get out of here and take as many people as I can with me.”

  “That’s a tall order,” True remarked. There was mischief in her eyes. “You might need some help with that, and I don’t mean to brag, but I’m pretty good at cookin’ up schemes.”

  I smiled, catching on quick. “You really want to help me?”

  She shrugged. “Sure.”

  We both looked at Cattie. For once, she seemed completely silent. She refused to raise her eyes from the floor.

  Then she began to speak, stating that it was different for her, since her mom had sent her here. Maybe this place wasn’t so bad and maybe we were wrong. She had even heard rumors that we would eventually be set free.

  Putting my hands on her shoulders and staring straight into her eyes, I told her about the day Dustin and I had come across that scary building. In detail, I described the stretcher and the little girl that lay unconscious on it.

  With a grim expression, she appeared to make a decision. “I’m in.”

  So now all we needed was a plan. True came up with the idea that I should gain Dustin’s trust and then, when he least expected it, knock him over the head or something. I asked her what the heck that was supposed to do. Then Cattie calmly stated that I would need a gun. Uh-uh. That was out of the question.

  But before I could protest, she talked over me. “Don’t w
orry. I’ve seen all the James Bond movies and stuff like that. It’s usually that the woman’s captured; she, like, knocks him over the head or something. Then she takes his gun and pulls it out on him, forcing him to release her.”

  I loathe guns. This is why James Bond and all action movies aren’t exactly on my top ten list. I insisted that there had to be another way. Something that didn’t involve guns.

  Both True and Cattie scrunched up their faces in concentration. In about five minutes they came up with a verdict. There was no other way unless I could persuade Dustin to help me. We all knew that was highly unlikely. So grudgingly I gave in. Now we just needed to figure out how to gain access to the weaponry.

  Soon the girls and I had come up with a ludicrous outline of what was to happen. The watches went off once again. Just like before, everyone got up and headed out the door in single file. Someone informed me that it was time for lunch. Despite the things I had been told, images of slop and mystery meat came to mind. My stomach grumbled in hunger and disgust.

  When we entered the lunchroom, I was pleasantly proven wrong. The tables, chairs, and floors had not a speck of grime. Children and teens alike were sitting down, chatting excitedly about their day. Despite the cold, dreary atmosphere of the camp, this room felt warm. Inviting, even. Although some tough-looking men and women surrounded the perimeter, all stood at ease.

  Our bunk stood in line for food. I observed that we were not served, but rather chose for ourselves. There was a long salad bar filled with different greens, veggies, dressings, toppings, and fruits. Standing next to it was a sandwich bar with a surplus of cold cuts and every kind of bread known to man. Next to that, I could see an assortment of soups, chilies, and other hot foods. Finally, at the end of all that were the drinks. The choices were water, iced tea, Gatorade, lemonade, and fruit punch. For some reason, seeing all that food made it very hard for me not to smile. The same thing seemed to be happening to everyone else too.