“Like Birch already does!” said Sean.
“That prank was funny and it was, you know, nice, too,” said Carlos. He shook his head and grinned at Zee and Will. “I still don’t know how you did it so quietly.”
“We’re not telling,” said Will. He poked Zee. “Secret unto death. Right, partner?”
“Right,” said Zee. “But stay tuned, campers. We’ve been emailing ideas back and forth all winter, and we’ve got some lulus and doozies planned for this summer.” Zee loved to make up new words, so now he said, “Word of the day, guys: lulu-doozies.”
All the boys groaned and cheered and tossed stuff—socks, pillows, tennis balls, rolled up towels, and flip-flops—at Zee and Will.
Zee ducked a flying pillow. And then, because it was the only way to express how happy and relieved he was to be reunited with Will, he howled with glee: “Lulu-doozie!”
And Will answered with a long, loud howl of his own: “Lulu-doozie, aroo-oo!”
Chapter Two
“So, the good news is, I’m here, with about a million great ideas for practical jokes,” said Will. He twirled a basketball on the tip of his finger as he and Zee sat on the steps of Birch. “But, the bad news is, I’m in Pawpaw Cabin, not Birch.”
“Are we at least in the same cluster?” asked Zee. Clusters were groups of campers who teamed up on theme days and did outings and chores together.
“Yes,” said Will. “We’re both Isabels.”
“Isa whats?” asked Zee.
“Isabels,” said Will. “This summer, clusters are named after the punch lines of knock-knock jokes. So we’re Isabels, short for ‘Isabel Necessary on a Bike?’”
“I like it,” chuckled Zee. “Typical Camp Wolf Trail. And I’m glad we’re in the same cluster. That’ll make it easier for us to make plans. Speaking of…” He lowered his voice and glanced back over his shoulder to be sure no one would hear him. “Let’s meet at the tennis courts later to talk about getting rid of the you-know-what. Okay?”
“Sure,” said Will. “I’ll head over to Pawpaw now, but meet you in about an hour.” He tucked the basketball under his arm and smiled. “Just like Nate said—Will-n-Zee are back in business.”
“Finally!” said Zee. “I’ve been waiting all year.”
Will left, and Zee went back inside Birch. Pretty soon Jim and the new guy Zack arrived, and in no time, Zee was running a cookie throw-down to decide whose cookies were best: Zack’s chocolate chips or Kareem’s peanut butter bars. Both cookies were so good that Erik, another old camper, declared it a tie, but only after everybody had stuffed himself. Zee stuck with his cabin mates when they all went to the lake to take their swim tests. But when the guys went to O’Mannitt’s Cove for a splash fight, Zee slipped away to meet Will.
The two tricksters had a lot to talk about. Just before the end of camp last summer, Zee had been on the receiving end of a long-running Camp Wolf Trail practical joke. The Hot Potato Octopus had been planted in Zee’s stuff. The octopus was a hideous, screaming yellow, extra-large stuffed animal complete with button suction cups running down eight dangly arms, bald spots where its plush had been worn away, and thin spots where its stuffing had fallen out over the years. It smelled ripe, too. The tradition was that anyone caught with the Hot Potato Octopus got a pie in the face tossed by the person who’d planted the octopus on him. Luckily, no one had been around when Zee found the octopus stuffed in his sleeping bag last summer. He had hidden it and told only Will.
Now, when Will got to the courts, Zee said, “I’m still kind of bummed about getting stuck with the stupid octopus.” Zee made up a new word to express how he felt. “Somebody picked me to be octo-pied.”
“Shake it off,” said Will. “I can see how you might not want to get creamed with a pie, but look at it this way: being one of the few people to get octo-pied at Camp Wolf Trail is a badge of honor.”
Zee grinned in spite of himself. “Some honor.”
“No, it is,” Will went on, “especially for you. I think you were chosen deliberately. In your case, the octopus was dumped on you because you’re so good at practical jokes. It’s as if the Hot Potato Octopus dumpster was saying, ‘You can dish it out, Zee. Now, let’s see if you can take it.’ I bet the dumpster meant it as a challenge. Everybody knows you’re tricky and you’re smart. Plus, you have a brilliant partner-in-crime—me. The dumpster knew we’d flip the octopus thing around, put our own spin on it.” He slid Zee a sly smile. “And that’s exactly what we did, right?”
“Right,” agreed Zee. He smiled, too. Since camp was almost over when the octopus was dumped on him, Zee and Will had hit upon a brilliant idea: Zee sneaked the octopus home in his luggage. “I bet no one’s ever done that before. It probably drove whoever dumped the octopus on me crazy. He had to stew all year wondering what the heck was going on. Plus, it gave us a whole year to come up with a plan to plant it on somebody else.”
“Tonight’s the night,” said Will, as he shot the basketball at the rickety, net-less, rusted ring that served as a basketball hoop at Camp Wolf Trail. “The time has come to put our plan into action.”
“Planning has been cool,” said Zee. All winter, in their emails, for secrecy and just for fun, the boys called the octopus the “supotco,” which was “octopus” backwards. “But I’ll be glad to get rid of the supotco. I sure hope I don’t get caught trying to get rid of it.”
“Hey, if you get caught, I will, too,” said Will, shooting another basket. He was so much taller than he’d been last summer that he sank the shot with ease. “I hope Skeeter-the-cook won’t mind making two pies.” Will passed the basketball to Zee. “I won’t let you get pied-in-the-face alone.”
“Thanks!” said Zee, catching the pass, extra glad that Will was his friend.
Shooting hoops made the boys thirsty, so they stopped off at the hose next to the dining hall to get a drink of water before they went back to their cabins.
“See you at dinner,” said Will. “Be sure Carlos brings his guitar so he’ll have to stay at the campfire till the end.”
“He always does,” said Zee. First-night-of-camp dinner was always a cookout down at the lake, and Carlos always played his guitar so the old campers could teach the new guys the camp songs. “It’s tradition.”
“Yeah,” said Will, “just like the octopus is a tradition. But it’s a tradition you and I have changed a little bit.”
“We’ve Will-n-Zeed it,” said Zee, “and—” Zee stopped short. He elbowed Will hard because just then, Skeeter Malone, the camp cook, came out of the dining hall, wiping his hands on his apron. Skeeter’s dog, Cookie, followed him. When Cookie saw the boys, he leapt up on them, greeting them with slurpy, doggish enthusiasm.
“Hi, there, boys,” said Skeeter. “Welcome back.”
“Thanks,” said Zee and Will in unison, trying to sound casual.
Skeeter took a deep breath. “Nice breeze,” he said. “Smells good. And you know, a breeze like this carries sound—and conversations—really well.”
Zee froze. Will looked at him in horror. Clearly, Skeeter had overheard their conversation about the octopus. Would he give them away?
But Skeeter winked. “I was wondering when that old octopus would turn up,” he said. “It disappeared at the end of camp last summer. That’s never happened before. You two have changed the tradition.” He smiled at the boys. “Don’t worry. I won’t spill the beans. I’ll be too busy. Seems like I’ve got some baking to do.” He looked down at Cookie and patted his head. “You love a good pie, don’t you, Cookie?”
Cookie wagged his tail so hard it banged against Skeeter’s leg.
“Everybody loves pie,” said Will. “No question.”
“Hey,” said Zee. “You just gave me a great idea!” He turned to Skeeter and asked, “Would you like to help us change the tradition a little more?”
Before Skeeter answered, Will jabbed Zee hard. “Don’t let him in on our plan,” he muttered, frowning.
“Why
not?” asked Zee. He was a little surprised. He and Will usually saw eye-to-eye. “Trust me, you’ll be glad.” Zee turned to Skeeter and asked, “What do you say?”
***
Zee usually ate about twenty hot dogs at the first-night-of-camp cookout by the lake. But tonight, he was too nervous to eat much. Nobody noticed. Everybody was too busy eating, singing along with Carlos, laughing, clapping, cheering, and shouting out the names of their favorite camp songs for Carlos to play next. Nobody noticed when Will and Zee slipped away from the campfire, either, because they were singing at the top of their lungs:
This land is your land, this land is my land, from California, to the New York island …
And then Carlos led the old campers in the jokey camp version:
Wolf Trail is your camp, Wolf Trail is my camp, from the wrecky rec hall, to the splintery boat ramp …
The sun had just dipped behind the trees as Zee and Will left the fire circle. It was a clear night, perfect for an undercover mission. The crickets chirped and the fireflies flashed in agreement. Without speaking, Zee and Will headed up the path that led back through the trees. They stopped before entering the clearing around Birch, peering ahead to see if anyone was in the cabin.
“The coast is clear,” said Will.
“Game on,” said Zee.
The boys sprinted to the cabin and up the steps. Zee’s eyes refocused to the dark inside. It was strange to find Birch empty. The room had a dank smell, sort of like stagnant swamp water.
Zee flipped on the battery-powered lantern. With one last check out the door to make sure no was coming, Zee slid a lump wrapped in a blanket out from under his bunk. He unwrapped it carefully, as if it might come alive and reach out and grab him.
“Boo!” said Will.
Zee yelped, “Whoa!” Startled, he stepped back, dropping the octopus. Eight bright yellow tentacles flopped out onto the floor in a jumbled pile.
“Yikes,” said Will, shading his eyes. “It’s brighter than I remembered.”
“I washed it,” laughed Zee. “I glued reflective strips on it, too.”
“It’s cool how it glows in the dark when the light hits it,” said Will. “You better hide it under your shirt.”
Zee stuffed the yellow octopus under his T-shirt. It was sort of scratchy. He was just about to click off the lantern when Will grabbed his arm.
“Wait a second,” he said. “I think we’ve got a golden opportunity here to pull a Will-n-Zee.”
“What do you have in mind?” asked Zee with a flash of reluctance. He didn’t want to risk blowing the octopus plan.
Will grinned wickedly. “Redecoration.”
“Okay,” said Zee. “But let’s redecorate your cabin—Pawpaw. It makes me nervous to stay here in Birch one second longer.”
“It’s okay with me to put our paws on Pawpaw,” said Will. “Let’s go.”
The boys sprinted over to Pawpaw, set to work, and in record time, the inside of Pawpaw Cabin was unrecognizable. Zee held the cabin door open for Will, who closed it silently behind himself. Zee’s heart was beating fast, even though everything was going according to plan. Will led the way back into the woods, where a chorus of crickets sounded like a million people talking at once. When the boys emerged from the woods near the lake, Cookie was waiting for them.
“Want to join in the fun, Cookie?” asked Will.
Cookie wagged his tail and followed the boys to the cove. A full moon hung in the sky, its reflection shining on the still lake, lighting a wide path across it.
“There it is,” said Zee, nodding toward Carlos’s bright red-and-yellow kayak, which stood out in the moonlight. Carlos had left it propped upside down near the little boat ramp, its black paddle secured underneath. Carlos was obsessed with kayaks. Every summer he brought his own kayak to camp. The boys teased him that he was half-man, half-kayak because he was so often sitting in his kayak, paddling across the lake, that they hardly ever saw his legs.
“I’ve got to ask Carlos to teach me how to kayak this summer,” said Zee. He moved the stuffed animal to one arm and flipped the kayak over. It made a hollow thunk as it settled, rocking on the ground until it was still. The paddle fell to the side. “Where should I put the octopus?”
“Here, let me,” said Will. He plucked the octopus out of Zee’s arms. Cookie followed him as Will placed the octopus in the cockpit of the kayak. Will pointed its silly smiling face toward the main trail. Then he wrapped two of the octopus’s arms around the paddle and tilted it so that it looked like the octopus was using it.
“Perfect,” said Zee. Will was such a great partner-in-pranks!
“Carlos is going to freak,” said Will.
“Yeah,” said Zee. “But you do think he’s the right guy to octo-pie, don’t you? I don’t want to hurt anybody’s feelings. A newbie wouldn’t understand, and even an old camper might get bent out of shape. Carlos will be cool with it, right? He won’t get mad.”
“No way!” said Will. “He’ll appreciate being Will-n-Zeed. No question. He’ll get a kick out of being our first victim of the summer.”
“Actually, he’ll get a pie out of it,” said Zee.
The boys laughed quietly and high-fived. Zee wished he could take a picture of the two of them and the octopus sitting in the kayak. Instead, he saluted. “Bye, supotco,” he said. “Nice knowing ya.”
Swoosh! Woosh! The boys gasped at the sound, stepping away from the kayak into the protection of the trees by the lake.
Cookie looked up and his eyebrows lifted into little triangles as if to say, “Who goes there?”
“Don’t you start howling and give away our secret, Dog,” whispered Zee.
Cookie seemed to understand. He sniffed the air a few times and then seemed to forget about the rustling in the woods.
The boys relaxed. If Cookie hadn’t sensed a person, then the sound must have been nothing but the breeze off the lake blowing through the pine branches, or a big bird like an owl just swooping by to check them out.
Cookie ambled to the water’s edge. He waded in belly-deep, looking at the boys as though inviting them to join him.
“Sorry, Cookie, you know the rules. No swimming without a lifeguard, not even for a dog,” said Will. “Come on out now.”
Agreeably, Cookie bounded out of the water. He ran up to the boys and shook his fur out, spraying them with lake water and damp dog hair.
“Great idea to invite Cookie along,” joked Zee, wiping his face. “Now we reek of wet dog.”
“I’ve smelled worse,” said Will. “So have you. Come on. Let’s get back to the campfire before somebody realizes that we’re missing.”
Chapter Three
Slipping silently through the shadows, Zee and Will returned to the campfire. They hung back, sitting behind Yasu, so that no one would ask why they were out of breath, why they smelled like wet dog, or why the wet dog in question had suddenly appeared. Good old Cookie stuck by them in the darkness. Max and another counselor, Simon, had built a campfire that roared inside the stone fire ring. They had piled the logs into a structure that lifted the flames up three feet high. The fire crackled and sizzled, sending sparks high into the night sky.
“Great green globs of greasy grimey gopher guts,” the campers sang, going for the record as World’s Worst and Loudest Singers as they hit the ending, “And I forgot my spoo—oo—oon …”
The boys cheered for themselves, and Max said, “Okay, guys, congratulations. That was totally terrible.”
The boys cheered again, and Max had to hold up his hands for quiet before he could go on. “Okay!” he said. “Games and activities, crafts and chores, and outings all begin tomorrow, which means it’s time for bed. Simon and I are on fire duty. We’ll be heading down to the lake to get water. Carlos will lead you on your way back to the cabins.”
“No!” everyone groaned. “Not yet!”
“The moon’s full,” Zee said to Will loud enough for the kids near them to hear.
“Oh,
yeah?” said Will. “I can’t see it through all the trees.”
“Then let’s go down to the lake with Max and Simon,” said Zee, “so we can see the moon over the water without the trees blocking it.”
“Good idea,” said Will. He poked Yasu in the back and asked, “Want to come?”
“Sure,” said Yasu. He sounded surprised and pleased that Will and Zee were including him. Then, just as Will and Zee had thought he would, Yasu yelled, “Hey, everybody! We’re going back to the cabins by way of the lake. Gotta see the full moon on the water. Come on, Carlos, sing us on our way. Everybody, follow me.”
Will and Zee exchanged silent looks of triumph. Yasu always liked to lead.
All the campers stood, stretched, and then some of the boys headed to their cabins and others—mostly from Pawpaw and Birch—followed Yasu toward the lake. Max and Simon swung water buckets, chatting with Tyler, one of the guys from Pawpaw. Carlos looped his guitar strap over his shoulder and sang as he walked:
Oh, Mister Moon, Moon, Mister Silver Moon, won’t you please shine down on me?
Oh Mister Moon, Moon, Mister Silver Moon, hiding behind that tree.
All these guys are telling you, to Camp Wolf Trail they’ll be true.
So Mister Moon, Moon, Mister Silver Moon, won’t you please shine down on,
Please shine down on, please shine down on me?
Zee and Will joined the song and the group of boys. They acted casual and unhurried as they strolled along, as though they had not a care in the world.
Ahead, Zee saw the guys in Birch. Seemed like a good group this year. Behind Yasu there was Jim, whose head stuck up because he was so much taller than everyone else, walking with Erik and Zack. Nate was talking to Vik and Sean and flashing his flashlight up into the trees as if he were looking for something. Kareem, another Birch newbie, danced around trying to keep a daddy-long-legs on his arm.
The way the boys jostled one another, and the way they were the same but different, reminded Zee of wolves and how they stuck to their packs for just about everything—living together, eating together, and traveling together. He thought—not for the first time—how appropriately named Camp Wolf Trail was.
Boys Camp Page 2
