by Mac Barnett
“But, Barry—” said Miles.
“I invited Niles to call me Barry,” said Principal Barkin, “not you, Miles.”
“But, Principal Barkin,” said Miles, “I thought a principal was a principal always, even on Sundays.”
“Who said that?”
“You did.”
Principal Barkin nodded. “Sounds like me. Wise words. Very wise words. But, Miles, you need to loosen up! We’re not talking about Sundays—we’re talking about the summertime. I mean, who knows what day of the week it is!”
(It was Sunday.)
“Plus, we are in the woods, boys! There are no rules in the woods, besides whatever rules the Yawnee Valley Park District enforces, hold on, I grabbed a brochure from a little ranger station in the parking lot and put it somewhere in my backpack, ah, here it is, wow, that’s a lot of rules. But these are mostly rules about fire safety! I am talking about the rules of society! In the woods, boundaries dissolve. There are no pedestals that elevate principals high above students, which is a principal’s rightful place in town. There are no obstacles separating father and son, even if that son is surly and disrespectful, partly because of hormones, probably, although sometimes I worry that there is more going on there, a darkness that I just can’t seem to . . .”
Principal Barkin trailed off.
“Are you talking about Josh?” asked Niles.
“Josh Barkin? No! Just a hypothetical father and son. In any case, the woods are a natural place for a couple of rapscallions like yourselves. Out here, everything gets turned on its head! Thus I find myself looking up at you, Miles Murphy, whereas in school I am always looking down at you, both metaphorically, in the sense that I disapprove of your general attitude and manner of dress, especially your T-shirts, and literally, in the sense that I am much taller than you. Out here, I couldn’t punish you if I wanted to, which I don’t.”
Principal Barkin was surprised to hear himself speak this sentence, and even more surprised that it felt true.
“Now,” said Principal Barkin, “how do I get out of this hole?”
“We had a ladder,” said Niles, “but we left it back in the forest.”
“Ah,” said Principal Barkin. “I see.”
And so Miles and Niles reached down into the hole. Miles grabbed Principal Barkin’s right arm with both his hands, and Niles grabbed Principal Barkin’s left hand with both his hands, and they pulled. Principal Barkin used his legs to scramble up the side of the pit, and the boys lifted their principal up.
“We did it!” said Principal Barkin.
He looked back down into the hole.
“But may I ask: Why did you set this trap,” he asked, “if not to prank me?”
“We don’t just prank you, Principal Barkin.”
“Right,” said Principal Barkin. “Of course.”
“We dug this hole for defense,” said Miles.
“Defense?”
Niles gave Miles a look like, Should we tell him?
Miles gave Niles a look like, Yeah, it’s kind of weird that we would tell him, but yeah.
“It’s a fortification. This area is our base.”
“Your base!” Principal Barkin was delighted. “But who would attack your base?”
Niles gave Miles a look like, We probably shouldn’t tell him everything, though.
“Some kids,” said Miles. “We took their flag and they’re trying to get it back.”
“A giant game of capture the flag in the woods! It’s a shame you aren’t friends with my son, Josh Barkin. This is just the kind of thing he would love. Although knowing Josh, he’d probably take things too far. To be honest, I really don’t know what he would love anymore. But! It’s the kind of thing I would have loved, when I was a boy, if my father had allowed me into these woods, which he didn’t. Your fathers allow you into these woods?”
“Sure,” said Niles.
“My mom does,” said Miles. “It’s just me and her.”
“Oh,” said Principal Barkin. “Right. Yes. I’m sorry.”
Miles shrugged. “It’s fine.”
“Well, anyway! These fortifications are ingenious.”
Niles smiled. “The skillful warrior does not rely on the enemy’s not coming, but on preparedness.”
“Who said that?” Principal Barkin asked. “Was that me again?”
“Sun Tzu.”
“Oh. Well. It’s still very wise.”
He checked his brand-new hiking pocket watch. “Well, boys, I should probably be heading off.”
“Where are you going?” Miles asked.
“West!”
“What’s west?”
“Oh,” said Principal Barkin. “I don’t know.”
“Barry,” asked Niles, “what are you doing out here?”
“That’s a very good question, Niles.”
Principal Barkin sat down on a rock.
“Every summer, my son, Josh Barkin, and I spend two weeks out here. It’s our annual Father-Son Outdoor Barkin Bonding Experience! This year, Josh declined. He couldn’t make it, because he is at a summer camp, which I believe is actually not too far from here! Anyway, I then invited my wife, Mrs. Barkin, for a first annual Husband-Wife Outdoor Barkin Bonding Experience! She also declined. She doesn’t really like the outdoors. But I had already rented the cabin and spent quite a lot of money on some brand-new camping equipment. And so I am on the first day of my first annual Barry-Barry Outdoor Barkin Bonding Experience! I am exploring these woods, and myself, and when you’re exploring, whether nature or yourself, you never know what you will stumble upon, your base, for instance, and that hole, although to be completely frank I was hoping to stumble upon my cabin, and eat some lunch.”
“Wait, are you staying at the Manzanita Cabin?” Miles asked.
“I am!”
“You’re going in the wrong direction. It’s that way a couple miles.”
“Well, it appears I will miss lunch!” Principal Barkin shook his plastic baggie. “Don’t worry about me, boys, I’ve got some Barkin Scroggin to tide me over on my way.”
“Scroggin?” Miles asked.
“It means trail mix! Carefully prepared according to my family recipe: peanuts, almonds, cashews, and pecans!”
“That sounds like what just comes in a can of mixed nuts,” said Niles.
“Yes!” Principal Barkin tapped the side of his head. “But not in the right proportions.”
Miles and Niles didn’t even need to give each other a look.
“Principal Barkin,” said Miles, “do you want to have lunch with us?”
Principal Barkin had a rule: Never eat lunch in front of students. He firmly believed that letting students see him eat would diminish his authority. He was not one of those faculty members who dined in the cafeteria because they wanted to “relate to students.” Nor did he eat in the teachers’ lounge, because a principal needed to wield power not just over students, but over staff as well. No. During the school year, Principal Barkin ate in his office, alone: a principal power lunch.
But school was out. And hadn’t he just given a remarkably good speech about rules in the forest?
“What are you having?” asked Principal Barkin.
And that’s how Miles, Niles, and Principal Barkin came to sit on a blanket in a little green glade, enjoying a lunch of tomato sandwiches and sugar cereals. It was truly the kind of thing that could happen only in the woods.
“These Arnold Palmers are ice cold!” said Principal Barkin. “Delicious!”
Chapter
17
After lingering for a while after lunch, Barkin took his leave of the boys. And he took his time taking his leave. “OK, GOOD-BYE, YOU TWO RUFFIANS!” he stood up and said. “I SHOULD BE GOING, UNLESS OF COURSE YOU WANT TO GIVE ME A TOUR OF YOUR CAVE!” After the tour he bid them farewell—“FAREWELL, PRANKSTERS!”—but stayed a little longer for a post-lunch snack. Finally he left, but not before standing at the edge of the glade, waving, and saying, “WELL, BOYS,
IF YOU NEED ME, LIKE I SAID EARLIER, I’LL BE OVER AT THE MANZANITA CABIN, BUT OOPS, MAYBE I SHOULDN’T HAVE MENTIONED IT, SINCE YOU’RE LIABLE TO SNEAK OVER AND PRANK ME!”
“It’s almost like he wants to be pranked,” Miles said, after they were sure Principal Barkin was gone.
“I think he does,” said Niles.
“Yeah,” said Miles. “But why?”
“I think maybe he’s lonely,” said Niles. “I mean, a prank can be a slap or a high five. When you and I prank each other, it’s because we’re friends.”
“It’s about respect,” said Miles.
“Yeah,” said Niles. “And affection!”
“OK,” said Miles, who felt like affection was a weird word to use, but also a good one. “Still, Principal Barkin hates pranks.”
“I think he’s changing,” said Niles.
Miles frowned. “But he’s a grown man.”
They sat and thought about their principal for a while.
Miles was the first to speak up.
“Well, it was nice seeing him. And weird.”
Niles nodded. “It’s weird to see your principal wearing shorts.”
“Yeah,” said Miles. “It’s weird seeing a teacher outside of school at all. But even weirder in the summer. You know? In the summer it seems like the teachers shouldn’t even exist. Like the school shouldn’t even exist. Me and my mom drove past it last week on the way to the dentist, and I didn’t even recognize the building. The yard was empty, and the parking lot was empty, and the gate was all chained up. And even though you couldn’t see through the walls, you could just tell the whole building was empty. It was like a dead body—everything looked the same, but something important was missing.”
“Creepy,” said Niles.
“It was creepy,” said Miles. “I mean, think about it—everybody we know from school, they’re all having summers too. Like, have you thought about Stuart at all the last couple months?”
“No.”
“Me neither! I love that guy! And just now is the first time I’ve thought about him since school ended. What’s Stuart doing this summer?”
“I think he said his family was going to Australia,” said Niles.
“That’s what I’m talking about!” Miles was getting excited now. “We’re here in the forest, and Stuart is in Australia right now, shouting at a kangaroo.”
“HEY!” said Niles, doing his best Stuart impersonation. “That KANGAROO has a POUCH!”
Miles laughed.
(It was a pretty good impersonation.)
“HEY,” said Miles, “there’s a JOEY in THERE!”
Niles laughed.
(It wasn’t a great Stuart impression but it was still pretty funny.)
“Yeah!” said Miles. “Like, what is Scotty up to?”
Niles frowned. “I don’t really know Scotty that well.”
“Me neither,” said Miles. “Still, it feels like he’s always around when we’re at school. And now he’s off somewhere . . . just . . . being Scotty. Which is crazy. I mean, it seems like the world doesn’t even exist in the summer, especially when we’re out here. Like it’s just the two of us. And Josh. And now Principal Barkin. But what’s Holly up to, you know? Have you thought about Holly since the last day of school?”
Niles smiled. But he didn’t answer.
Chapter
18
In fact, Niles had thought of Holly since the last day of school. And he knew exactly what she was up to. Every few days, in the afternoon, Niles had been leaving the little green glade to meet up with Holly at a swimming hole in the woods.
Niles didn’t say anything about these meetings when Miles mentioned Holly. It would have gone against the general thrust of the point Miles was trying to make about summer, which Niles thought was a good one. Plus Niles liked having secrets.
He went to visit Holly that very afternoon.
The swimming hole was a deep pool of cool clear water encircled by big jagged rocks. There was a big gray goose who lived there during the summer. The goose was the reason most people avoided the swimming hole. He honked and charged at most visitors, but he seemed to like Holly.
Holly didn’t go to the swimming hole to swim. She liked to take off her shoes and read with her feet in the water. And when Niles visited, he put his feet in the water and read books with her.
When Holly heard Niles, she looked up from her book.
(It was Frankenstein, by Mary Shelley.)
When the goose heard Niles, he honked aggressively.
“Oh hush, you,” said Holly.
The goose shut his beak but eyed Niles warily.
“Hey, Butch,” said Holly. “How’s Sundance?”
“What?” said Niles.
“From a movie.” Holly sighed.
“Right!” said Niles. “What movie?”
Holly told him the title, and he wrote it down in his pranking notebook. He tried to watch the movies Holly mentioned because (1) they were usually great movies, and (2) nobody ever caught Holly’s movie references, and Niles wanted to be an exception.
“Got it,” said Niles.
“How’s Miles?” Holly asked.
Niles smiled. “He’s great!”
Then he took out his book (it was The Once and Future King, by T. H. White), and he took off his shoes and his socks. He sat down next to Holly, and they read.
In the chapter Niles was reading, a boy was turned into a falcon and spent the night in a mews among several cruel and warlike birds. It gave Niles a lot to think about, so he stopped reading and starting thinking, while staring at his feet.
Holly wiggled her toes.
“School’s starting up pretty soon,” she said.
“Yeah,” said Niles. It was late afternoon and the sun was still high in a cloudless sky. It was hard to believe that this day would ever end, let alone the summer. Niles didn’t want to think about school, not this afternoon. So he tried not to.
Of course, the harder you try not to think about something, the more you tend to think about it. For example: Don’t think of a cow. Try very, very hard not to think of a cow. Empty your mind of anything resembling a cow. Just in case you need help knowing what not to think about, here is what a cow looks like:
So don’t picture one of those.
OK. Now go for it. Don’t think of a cow!
What did you think about?
Was it a cow?
If yes, you understand what Niles was going through. If no, please draw a picture of whatever you did think about on a postcard and mail it to HUMAN BRAIN STUDY, c/o AMULET BOOKS. (The address is on the last page.) Your contribution will help our understanding of science!
Anyway, Niles was having so much trouble not thinking about school that he got up and, wearing all his clothes, jumped into the water.
There was a great splash, and when Niles resurfaced, his hair was plastered flat to the top of his head.
The goose honked.
Holly laughed.
“What the heck, Niles?”
“I needed to short-circuit my brain!” Niles said.
“You know,” she said, “I used to think you were a real weirdo. And now that I’m getting to know you, I think you’re a completely different kind of weirdo.”
Niles smiled. He liked that a lot.
Holly set down her book. She dove into the water.
Niles was delighted. “I want to learn how to do that!”
Holly tried to teach Niles to dive, but the lessons didn’t take. (Niles was too protective of his brain to go headfirst.) So they spent an hour just swimming.
Splinters and Mudflap couldn’t believe they had to spend sixty mikes watching the target swim with a girl. First of all, it was obvious the target had a crush on her, and who wanted to watch a woodland romance? Second of all, they had to spend the whole time hidden behind a rock, and their muscles were starting to cramp from staying still. Third of all, they were supposed to be back at camp. But they doubted Josh would punish them, not whe
n they came back with news of their successful patrol. No, Josh would probably reward them! Maybe he’d even give them some medals! Or order Papa Company to give a parade in their honor! A small parade, yes. But a parade nonetheless!
At 1700 hours, the target and the girl got out of the water.
At 1702, the target picked up his book and his backpack and headed toward a trail opposite their rock.
The girl sat down and picked up her book.
The girl was stationed between them and the target.
As was the goose.
There was no way they could follow the target without being seen.
“See you in three days? Same time, same place?” asked the target.
“Make it noon,” said the girl.
“Noon it is,” said Niles.
Niles started down the path.
Holly opened her book again, but she stared down at the same page for minutes, smiling.
(She wasn’t reading. She was thinking. There’s not much to smile at in the second half of Frankenstein.)
“Great, more romance,” Splinters whispered to his brother.
Mudflap made a gagging sign.
Splinters rolled his eyes into his head like he was dead.
Then they checked their watches, which were synchronized, and melted back into the forest.
Chapter
19
Oh, how Josh PLOPped that afternoon. He was positively purple and throwing a fit. The sun was low in the sky and a chilly breeze was rising—perfect swimming weather. At Yawnee Valley Yelling and Push-Ups Camp, swimming worked a little differently: Cadets lined up on a dock while counselors strode around, screaming hurtful things at them, then throwing them in the lake. As a junior counselor, Josh got to toss the smallest campers into the water.
“YOU THINK YOU’RE REALLY FUNNY, BUT ALL YOUR JOKES ARE OUT OF A JOKE BOOK, SCOTTY,” he yelled, right in one kid’s face. The kid, Scotty—who was a different Scotty from the one in the first two Terrible Two books—nodded sadly as he flew into the lake.
