by Lenore Look
It was a very close call.
The best thing about recess is that it doesn’t matter if you are having trouble paying attention in class. Suddenly, you are paying attention to a million things on the playground.
“Let’s play camping,” Pinky announced as soon as we got outside. Since he’s the leader of the gang, he gets to say what the gang plays.
“The first thing we have to do is pitch a tent by a bubbling brook,” said Pinky. “Then we’ll catch a few frogs. Then we’ll make a roaring fire. After that, we’ll paddle a canoe and go fishing.”
Camping isn’t like the games where you choose sides and someone gets left out. Everyone plays together. So we pitched an imaginary tent on the kickball field. Then we paddled our imaginary canoe and fished. Then some of us turned into bears and chased the campers. Then the campers roared and chased the bears. It was terrific!
Camping was not scary at all, until … the girls wanted to play.
“Go away,” said Pinky. “No girls allowed.”
“That’s discrimination,” said Esha.
“It’s not,” said Sam. “We’re just camping.”
“That’s not camping,” said Sara Jane.
“No one camps on asphalt,” said Ophelia.
Then the girls began to giggle.
“People camp in the woods,” said Flea, pointing to the bird sanctuary at the edge of the playground.
The gang turned and stared. Usually, no one goes there except to do a class project with the art teacher or science teacher. It is a little scary.
“We knew that,” said Pinky. “We were just warming up. Right, guys?”
Silence.
Then before I knew it, everyone was running toward the bird sanctuary. When we got there, the girls ran right in. But the boys stopped.
It wasn’t as bad as it looked from a distance. There were trees, a little breeze and birds chirping. But it was kind of dark in there.
“What are the boys waiting for?” a girl’s voice drifted out.
“Maybe they’re scared,” said another.
Then they giggled.
That was it. The boys hurled themselves into the bird sanctuary, except for me. I’m allergic. So I stayed at the edge of the playground where I could watch everything and keep an eye out for the playground monitor, just in case.
Fortunately, the boys knew everything about camping and were ready to show the girls how it’s done.
Pitching a tent was no problem. Nhia suggested taking off their shirts and pants and tying them together to make a tent. It was brilliant! Who would have ever thunk it? It was a much better tent than the girls’, which was only a bunch of sticks leaning against a tree like a teepee.
“It’s called a lean-to,” said Flea. “I learned it at camp.”
“You mean a bean-to?” asked Pinky. “Looks like you’re all waiting for beans to grow up the poles!”
Pinky was right. A bunch of sticks isn’t a tent at all!
“Betcha can’t make a fire,” said Jules, who was playing on the girls’ side.
“Betcha can’t either,” said Hobson.
Then everyone rushed around gathering sticks and leaves and pieces of wood for a fire. It was the boys against the girls.
But starting a fire was harder than rubbing two sticks together.
It was even harder than using a magnifying glass, which no one had, so the boys used Eli’s glasses, which were good for nothing, not even for inspecting ants.
Nothing worked. (It was a good thing the girls’ fire didn’t work either.)
And sitting around in your underwear in front of an imaginary fire is a little boring. So Pinky said why didn’t they climb trees? “Girls can’t climb as good as boys,” he yelled.
And Pinky was right! All the boys went up, up, up, much faster and higher than the girls.
“C’mon, Alvin,” shouted Sam. “Climb with us!”
I didn’t move. I have acrophobia. I couldn’t join them, but watching the boys climb was almost as exciting as putting snakes in a bag!
Watching the girls, however, was boring. They didn’t climb very far.
“You win!” said Flea.
“Yeah,” said Esha. “I don’t like heights.”
“Neither do I,” said Orphelia.
“It’s for the birds,” said Flea.
“And the boys,” added Sara Jane.
Then they giggled.
Worse, the bell rang. Recess was over.
And because they were the losers and not very far from the ground, the girls jumped down and ran.
But the boys did not.
“Camping is g-g-great,” said Pinky.
“You’re l-l-lucky to be going c-c-camping with your d-d-dad,” stammered Sam.
“You’ll have a great t-t-time,” said Scooter.
I nodded. I sure was lucky. I was on the ground.
They were high in the trees.
And they were stuck.
“I need the b-b-bathroom,” said Pinky.
“Me too,” said Scooter.
“Help!” yelled Eli.
“HEEEEEEEEEELLLLP!” screamed Nhia. “Somebody HEEEEEEELLLLP!”
“Lemmeeee DOWWWWWWN!” shrieked Hobson.
I wished that I could help them, but I couldn’t. So I turned and ran. I had to tell someone, fast!
But when I got back inside, my mouth felt like it was full of sand. I couldn’t say anything at all. And Miss P told me to take a seat. It was time for class to begin.
“Where are the boys?” asked Miss P. She looked around. It was strangely quiet without them.
“Camping,” said Flea.
“Camping?” Miss P looked puzzled. Then she looked at me. I was the only boy in the class, except for maybe Jules, but no one can tell whether Jules is a boy or a girl. “Jules” could stand for “Julian” or it could stand for “Julia.” I kept my hands in plain sight. I said nothing.
But my eyes can talk when my mouth can’t. My eyes looked out the window, far away across the playground and into the bird sanctuary, where you could almost see underwear clinging to the tops of the trees if you looked really hard. Miss P figured it out. Like I said, she’s very smart. And when the fire truck from the Concord Fire Engine Co. came screaming into the playground, everyone poured out of the school to watch.
If I could have given the gang some advice, it would have been this: It’s important to have already used the bathroom before climbing trees.
time was running out.
“Here’s a few things to pack for our trip,” my dad said after dinner. He handed me a list:
I read the list. I was not impressed.
“If you think of other things, go ahead and pack them,” said my dad. “But keep it simple. It’s only for two days.”
Two whole days?
“I can’t wait,” said my dad, giving my shoulder a squeeze. “A little hiking, a little camping—maybe even a little fishing—we’re going to love being in the great outdoors together.”
“I love being together with you anyway, Dad,” I said. I squeezed his shoulder back. I think it’s a gentleman thing to do, like shaking hands, only fewer germs.
“I love being with you too, Alvin,” said my dad. “It’ll be a great adventure.”
“What if we get lost?” I asked.
“Then we’ll use our compasses.”
“What if our compasses are lost?”
“Then I’ll show you how to make one with a watch and a match.”
“What if it rains ALL day and night and all the next day and night too?”
“Then we will huddle together and drink hot chocolate.”
“What if something happens to you, Dad?”
“Then you will rescue me, son.”
Silence.
“I will?”
“I know you will.”
“What if I get sick?” I asked.
“Then we’ll come home,” said my dad.
“No … I mean, what if I get sick before we leav
e?”
My dad blinked. He looked at me.
“Major suffering,” I said. “A leave-me-for-dead whopper.”
“What did you have in mind?” my dad asked.
“Measles-mumps-rubella-typhoid-malaria-scarlet fever-Black Death-campophobia.”
“Sorry I asked,” said my dad.
“Then we’d have to cancel, right, Dad?”
“Ohhhhhhhh,” my dad groaned. He put his head in his hands.
I didn’t know what to say.
I scratched my butt.
I looked at my list.
Then I ran to find Calvin.
Calvin is amazing.
He knows something about everything.
“A ferrule is the metal band on a pencil that holds the eraser in place,” Calvin said, reading from the computer screen in our room, with Anibelly next to him. They were both in their pajamas. So I got into mine.
“The father of Harry Houdini was a rabbi.” Calvin’s eyes moved across the bright screen.
“What’s a rabbi?” I asked.
“It’s a rabbit without the ‘t,’ ” said Calvin. “I think they meant he was a rabbit.” He was reading the entire encyclopedia online and he was up to the letter “F.” But he also liked to skip around.
“Did you know that bats always turn left when leaving a cave?”
“Even Batman?” I asked.
“Dunno about that one,” said Calvin. “The bite of the taipan snake can kill you within three seconds, but the bite of the tiger snake can take up to twelve hours.
“Do you want to know about spider bites?”
“Yes,” said Anibelly
“No,” I said.
“Why not?” asked Calvin.
“Because I have arachnophobia,” I said. “And I’m going camping.”
Fortunately, it was time for Anibelly to go to bed. So I waited until she left the room, and then I showed Calvin my list.
He helped me make some improvements:
It was great!
Calvin added a few extras for just in case. Then he helped me find everything online.
We went to www.campwithoutfear.com, and with just a few clicks, we were set.
“Will everything get here in time?” I asked.
“No problem,” said Calvin. “Next Day Delivery.”
“Will it cost a lot of money?” I asked.
“None,” said Calvin. “I’ll use Dad’s credit card. He said it’s for emergency use only—and this is an emergency.”
I nodded.
“This way no one has to spend any money,” Calvin explained, “you pay with plastic.”
My brother Calvin is really, truly amazing. He knows everything.
“Thanks, Calvin,” I said.
“No problem,” said Calvin.
Then we went to bed and turned out the light.
It was very, very dark.
Maybe it was as dark as camping in the woods.
And it was very quiet.
“I’m still afraid of going camping, Calvin,” I whispered.
Silence.
“Cal?”
“It’s okay to be scared,” said Calvin, his voice fading into dreams. “What matters is that you have the right stuff.”
Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.
“Okay,” I said. But I was not okay. I was wide awake. And I was worried about a million things.
What if the wrong package arrives and I get a bunch of lightbulbs or plastic flowers or candle holders?
What if the right package arrives but none of the stuff works?
What if the stuff works but I forget to take it with me?
What if I remember to take the stuff but don’t know how to use it?
The hairs on my head stuck out like a raccoon cap struck by lightning. Then I remembered— my uncle Dennis was coming to watch us after school the next day, and if anyone knows anything about the right stuff and how to use it, it’s my uncle Dennis.
After that I felt much better. Then I finally closed my eyes, and the hairs on my head went to sleep too.
my uncle dennis arrived before Next Day Delivery. He is very quick that way; it is one of his talents. He is also highly trained in unarmed combat, snowball combat, wrapping-paper-roll combat, combat without combat, signals, rolling stops and emergency landings.
Uncle Dennis can tell some great stories, but he can never finish them.
He always stops halfway on account of “the rest of it is so bad, I’d give away some illegal doings,” he says. He’s a secret agent of some sort, I’m sure of it. Just look at his Batman ring. It’s a dead giveaway!
And he can sense when a suspicious package is about to arrive. “The delivery truck is coming up your driveway,” said Uncle Dennis. “Is it your birthday?”
“I hope so,” I said.
Thwuuuuuump!
It was my Next Day Delivery!
Anibelly and I pushed the box into the kitchen and ripped it open.
This is what we found:
The Monster Eye. Not just any monster eye, but the super-duper Triple Action Monster Eye Wide Beam Flashlight, to be exact.
A portable diesel generator for disaster use.
A GPS.
And a bunch of extra stuff that Calvin had added at the last minute:
N95 respirator dust masks.
Water-purification tablets.
Energy bars.
Night-vision goggles.
“Whoa!” said Uncle Dennis, trying on the night-vision goggles. “Son of a water pistol!” He was very impressed. And it takes a lot to impress my uncle Dennis.
He looked at all the stuff. Then he looked at me. Then he lowered his voice.
“You’re a little worried about camping with your dad, aren’t you?” he asked.
“Not a little worried,” I cried, “I’m all freaked out!”
Uncle Dennis took a deep breath. He cracked his knuckles.
“Camping’s not that bad,” he said. “All you need are some secret tips. Just remember what SURVIVAL spells:
“ ‘S’—size up the situation.
“ ‘U’—use all your senses.
“ ‘R’—relieve yourself first.
“ ‘V’—veer from fear and panic.
“ ‘I’—improvise.
“ ‘V’—vacuum your crumbs.
“ A’—always carry some form of weapon on you.
“ ‘L’—Learn some secret tricks.
“ ‘L’ is the most important one,” said Uncle Dennis, who is an expert on secret tricks. He can take nearly anything and make it useful in many different ways. It is something he learned in secret agent training school, I’m sure of it.
“Secret Trick Number One,” said my uncle Dennis. “Dryer lint can save your life.”
“Dryer lint?” My mouth fell open and Anibelly’s Hokey Pokey toe went out.
“It catches fire with a single spark,” said Uncle Dennis. “It’s also light and easy to pack.”
So then Anibelly and I collected dryer lint. It was easy!
“Secret Trick Number Two,” said my uncle Dennis, leading us into the backyard. “Trapping dinner is easier than hunting it.”
Uncle Dennis tied a rope around our littlest tree and pulled it until the entire tree bent over in a question mark. With the other end of the rope, he made a big loop, like a noose, and pinned it to the ground with a heavy rock. “Young trees are very flexible,” he explained. “When you bend it over you can set the other end of the rope into a trap, like this.”
Anibelly watched Uncle Dennis very carefully.
“This is called the dangle trap,” said Uncle Dennis. “When your prey steps into the rope and loosens it from the rock, the tree will snap itself upright and dangle the prey”
“Does it hurt?” asked Anibelly, frowning.
“Probably not,” said Uncle Dennis. “This is different from traps that mangle, tangle and strangle. But it will surprise.”
“Hooray!” said Anibelly. “I like surprises.”<
br />
“Then you’ll like Secret Trick Number Three,” said Uncle Dennis. “Toilet paper has many uses. You can use it to wrap, tape and signal.”
Then Uncle Dennis showed us how to wrap toilet paper around a tree or branch to signal which direction we’re going. Then we dampened pieces of toilet paper and used them as Band-Aids on our scratches and mosquito bites.
“Most importantly,” said my uncle Dennis, “wipe with it. Don’t use anything else, especially if you don’t know what it is.”
Uncle Dennis nodded and winked. So I nodded and winked back. And Anibelly winked too. She doesn’t miss a thing.
“Secret Trick Number Four: Mosquito netting makes a good hammock.” He strung the jungle-grade mosquito netting between two trees.
“Secret Trick Number Five: Marshmallows can give you a peaceful night’s sleep.” Uncle Dennis dashed into the kitchen and came back with a bag of marshmallows. He stuffed a marsh-mallow into each ear. Earplugs! What a fantastic idea!
Anibelly and I ate some marshmallows and stuffed our ears with them, and Lucy’s too. Then we ran around the yard screaming at the top of our lungs. We could hardly hear, but we chased one another until our toilet paper Band-Aids fell off and a couple of our marshmallows popped out. After that, we took some sticks and dug some holes in the yard. Digging holes is great!
When we finally made it back to Uncle Dennis, he was motionless in the hammock, marshmallows in his ears, fast asleep.
“What’s Secret Trick Number Six?” I asked.
Uncle Dennis did not stir. But he moaned, just a little.
I held my breath.
My uncle Dennis is a sleep talker and will spill all sorts of secrets when he’s in stage two light sleep. Sleep talking is sure to give you away if you’re a secret agent. That is why when secret agents get captured, they have to stay awake no matter what.
“Listen, Sport …,” mumbled Uncle Dennis.
I gasped.
“You don’t … need so many … secret tips…. All you … need is a … special secret … weapon.”
A special secret weapon? Now the truth was out. I shivered in my sneakers.
