“I hope whoever it is doesn’t decide to shoot us with an arrow,” whispered Bill, tensing to spring.
“Wait,” said Striker, grabbing Bill’s arm.
“I was just kidding!” said Bill.
“No,” said Striker. “I think I know who it is!”
Who is the mystery archer?
Solution
Some items that we buy are needs and some are wants. If it’s a need, it’s something that we really need to survive. Needs are very important. Obviously, food, water, and shelter are needs, but so are medicine, education, and transportation.
Wants are items that would be nice to have, but that we don’t technically need. Some examples of wants are new toys, ballet lessons, or Disney World vacations.
In general, people purchase needs before they purchase wants. In other words, if you only have a limited amount of money, you first buy the things that you need to have. Only if you have money left over do you buy wants, or things that it would be nice to have.
Because he knew the difference between wants and needs, Striker figured out that the mystery archer was . . . Sheila!
When Sheila went to town, it looked like she mixed up her wants and her needs. Striker knew that Sheila really needed sunscreen. Sunscreen is pretty important at summer camp! But instead, she put all her money towards a new haircut, which was seemingly just a want.
If she spent all her money on a want (the haircut) and ignored what she really needed (sunscreen), maybe the haircut was actually more important than it appeared. Maybe the haircut was also a need.
When Striker saw the second arrow in front of the dining hall, it appeared to have a piece of thread or fishing line wrapped around it. But what if that thread was actually hair? Maybe the mystery archer was getting pieces of her hair caught on the arrow!
If that happened to you, a logical step would be to get the hair out of the way – in other words, get a haircut! And that’s exactly what Sheila did.
“I’ve always wanted to learn how to shoot a bow and arrow,” said Sheila. She and the boys were sitting on the floor of the game shed. Her scream when she had stumbled into Bill and Striker in the dark had thankfully loosened up Striker’s tongue again.
“My dad used to compete at archery,” she continued, “and I thought he’d like it if I tried, too. I was so bad, though, that I’ve been practicing at night. I didn’t want anyone to make fun of me.”
“You must have been bad if you shot a cabin,” said Bill.
“Yeah, that was an accident,” said Sheila. “One of many. I’ve actually shot a lot of things I wasn’t supposed to. Since it was dark, I couldn’t always find all the arrows. I guess I missed that one at the cabin.”
“And at the dining hall,” added Bill.
“Anyways, I’m getting better now, and I think I’m about ready to start practicing in the daylight.”
“You’d better,” said Striker. “You’re going to get in trouble if they catch you.”
“Oh, my counselor, Sarah, knows,” said Sheila with a laugh. “She gave me permission at first. She wasn’t too happy about the arrows I left around camp, though, so she said tonight had to be my last practice.”
“Well then,” said Striker, standing up, “let’s make it a good one!”
When the archery contest was finally held, Sheila managed third place. She also didn’t hit anyone with her arrows.
And if Striker ducked for cover every time she shot an arrow, she never saw.
Chapter 6: Talented or Terrible?
Camp was halfway over, and the campers were all preparing for Parents Day.
Striker was looking forward to showing his parents around. Though he didn’t plan to admit it, he missed them. He’d never been away from home for so long before. He couldn’t wait to show his mom how he could handle a kayak now, and he was ready to impress his dad by building a fire from scratch.
He shared his plans with Sheila and Amy.
“And don’t forget my favorite part of Parents Day,” said Sheila. “The talent show!”
“I’m singing in it,” said Amy.
“Yeah, I heard about the show,” said Striker. “Count me out!”
“You sure you don’t want to sing, too?” teased Amy. Amy had given Striker singing lessons for a brief time during the previous school year. They were not successful.
“You don’t have to perform,” said Sheila. “But it’s really fun to watch. In fact, they start rehearsals this afternoon. We should slip in and get a sneak peak.” She turned to Amy. “You wouldn’t mind, would you?”
“Mind what?” asked Richard, joining them.
“Us watching the talent show rehearsals,” said Sheila. “Amy’s going to be singing.”
“Yeah, let’s go!” said Richard. “We can give you moral support.”
“I never needed moral support in my life,” Amy said, lifting her chin, “but you are welcome to come and watch.”
After lunch, the dining hall was transformed into a makeshift auditorium. There weren’t any chairs set up yet, but a section of one side of the room was roped off as the stage. Striker and his friends sat on the gray linoleum floor to watch along with a few other campers who wandered in.
“Will they be able to fit everyone in here for the actual show?” he asked Sheila.
“It’s normally a little tight,” she said, “but it’s not like everybody comes. Usually, it’s only the parents who have kids in the show and some of the other campers. There’s a parent/kid volleyball game being held outside at the same time. That’ll take some of the crowd away.”
They watched as the first boy took the stage. He performed some magic tricks and told a few mildly funny jokes. Striker and his friends laughed at all the right parts and applauded at the end.
Next was a group of three girls who performed a hip-hop dance together, followed by a girl who demonstrated some karate moves.
Amy came onto stage next and belted out a blues song. Her strong voice echoed around the dining hall and captured everyone’s attention.
“That was really good,” said Richard, clapping loudly with the rest of the small audience at the end of the number.
“That’s Amy,” said Striker with a grin.
“Next up, Sam and Harry Newton,” said the counselor organizing the show.
Sam and Harry were twin boys. They were short and wiry with light brown hair.
“I’m Sam.” He waved to the audience.
“And I’m Harry.”
“Ooh, twins,” said Sheila. “I wonder what their act is.”
Sam intertwined his fingers to make a step with his hands. “One, two, three,” he counted. With a suddenness that was startling, Harry stepped into his brother’s hands and flipped backward!
What followed was the coolest display of acrobatics that Striker had ever seen. The boys cartwheeled around each other, flipped one another, and threw each other into the air. At one point, they bounced back and forth on a small seesaw, sending one person up and then the other, until Sam finally turned a double-summersault in midair and landed with his arms outstretched.
At the end of the show, everyone in the audience and even the other performers stood on their feet and cheered.
“Wow!” said Richard over the noise. “That was amazing!”
“I know!” said Striker.
Harry and Sam grinned and bowed together before dashing off the stage.
That night at dinner, the main topic of conversation was the acrobat routine. Even those who hadn’t seen the show were talking about Harry and Sam and making plans to see the act.
“I couldn’t believe those two,” said Amy, sitting down with her tray at the group’s regular table. “How do you even learn to do that?” She shook her head in amazement.
“I think there’s going to be a huge crowd at the rehearsal tomorrow,” said Sheila.
“There’s another rehearsal?” asked Striker.
Sheila nodded. “Yes, just one more before the actual talent show.
”
“Awesome,” said Striker. “I’m looking forward to seeing them perform again.”
“Yeah,” said Bill. “I want to see what everyone is yapping about!”
The next day, the rehearsal was packed. So many people attended that it felt like the actual show.
“I don’t know how they can possibly fit parents in here, too,” said Striker. He and Bill were stationed on the floor ready to watch.
“No kidding,” said Bill. “Ouch!” He quickly lifted his hand. “I’m getting stepped on!”
“Oops. Sorry.” Bill and Striker looked up. It was Sam from the acrobatics act.
“Hi,” said Striker. “I watched you and your brother yesterday. You were awesome.”
“Thanks.” He looked around. “There sure are a lot of people here today.”
“Everyone’s here to see you guys,” said Bill. “I don’t think the talent show has ever had such good attendance since I’ve been coming to camp. The parents are going to have to fight to get in tomorrow.”
“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking, too,” said Sam. “Oh, I see my brother. Gotta run.”
“Good luck!” called Striker. He watched Sam join Harry. The two boys looked out at the crowd with concerned expressions on their faces and then began whispering to one another.
I wonder what’s up, thought Striker.
The talent show practice began, running in the same order. With all the people, the room was buzzing with energy, and the acts were even better than the day before.
Finally, it was time for the acrobatics display. Sam and Harry took the stage as the entire room quieted down. No one wanted to miss a moment of the performance.
Sam put his hands out. “One, two, three.”
Harry jumped into his hand, but, instead of flipping into the air, fell on his backside.
The audience gasped.
Harry stood up and brushed himself off. They went back into their routine. Only seconds later, however, Sam fell when Harry got a bad grip on his hands and was unable to launch him into the air.
The audience murmured as the act went from bad to worse. By the time Harry and Sam reached the seesaw trick, Striker could hardly bear to look. The audience let out a loud groan as Harry and Sam were unable to get their timing right, and Sam was launched sideways off the seesaw. He just barely managed to land on his feet.
When the routine was finally over, the two boys skipped their bows to the stunned and silent audience and slunk offstage.
Bill turned to Striker. “What was that about?”
“I think I know,” said Striker. He stood to slip out of the audience as the next act came on stage, a ballet dancer who looked as thoroughly bewildered as the audience. Her music began, and Striker headed for the door where Harry and Sam had just exited.
He found them perched on a railing just outside the dining hall.
“Hi, guys,” he said. “That was pretty brutal.”
They looked at him suspiciously.
“Yeah,” said Harry. “Well, I guess we can’t be at the top of our game every time.”
“Maybe not,” said Striker. “The thing is, I think we can find a solution to your problem without you throwing the whole act.”
“What do you mean by that?” asked Sam.
“You know what I mean,” said Striker. “You didn’t choke. You two performed badly on purpose.”
Why did the boys throw the act?
Solution
Everything in this world is scarce. That means that there isn’t enough of any one thing to spread around to all the people who want it. When lots of people really want something, or demand it, it can sometimes be a little hard to get.
Harry and Sam had a great act. It was so entertaining that they drove up the number of people who wanted to see them perform. The rehearsal was packed, and they knew it would only get more crowded once parents were added to the mix during the official Parents Day show. Space in the audience was limited, and lots of campers wanted that space for themselves and their parents.
Harry and Sam were concerned that their own parents might not be able to find a space to watch them or, at the very least, that they wouldn’t be able to get very good seats.
So, the brothers came up with a solution. They decided to perform badly in the rehearsal, missing tricks and falling down whenever possible. That way, everyone who watched them would think they weren’t very good and wouldn’t try to come back and see them with their parents the next day. Then Harry and Sam’s parents would easily be able to watch them perform their acrobatics routine from great seats.
They weren’t particularly happy about the strategy, both with losing face in front of their friends and with the bruises and sore limbs they received from all the trips and falls. Unfortunately, the boys didn’t see any other options.
Luckily for them, Striker did.
At the end of the rehearsal, a counselor stood in front of the kids and made an announcement.
“In light of the high demand for this show,” she said, smiling at Striker, “we’ve added a second showing for Parents Day. We’ll have a morning talent show and then repeat it that evening. We want everyone – and everyone’s parents – to be able to see all of our talented performers.
“And speaking of talented performers, I have two boys here who would like a second chance to entertain this great audience.”
Harry and Sam walked sheepishly onto the stage.
“Let’s give them a welcome!”
The audience clapped politely as the boys began their act, but the polite clapping soon built to wild applause. It never let up, and by the end of the performance, everyone was standing and cheering.
Chapter 7: Arts and Crafty Competition
One morning at breakfast, Jamie stood and spoke above the hubbub of the campers’ conversations. “Hey, everybody, listen up.”
Striker and his friends quit talking as the room fell quiet. Bill froze with his fork full of eggs halfway to his mouth. Striker rolled his eyes and stifled a laugh.
“We’ve got a camper who would like to make an announcement.” Jamie gestured to the girl standing by his side: Ruby.
“Hi,” said Ruby. “I just wanted to let you all know that the painting club is sponsoring an arts and crafts competition. Anyone is welcome to submit, and all kinds of crafts are allowed.” She paused and consulted a sheet of paper in her hand. “The competition will be held one week from today, and all designs are due in the swim shack the day before. Mr. Cutchins has agreed to be our judge.
“Um, I think that’s everything, but if anyone has any questions, please ask me. Thanks!”
The conversations around the room started up again.
“I might enter something,” said Sheila. “I made a really cool beaded bracelet a few days ago that might have a chance to win.”
“You should,” said Amy.
“I bet there will be a lot of entries,” said Richard, “with the amount of time some kids spend doing arts and crafts.” He took a bite of grits. “You’d think they came to camp solely to make lanyards! Give me sports any day.”
“I’m sure there will be plenty of submissions from the painting club,” said Striker. “Bill, are you interested?”
The group laughed.
The next week, Striker and Amy browsed through the contest entries. The crafts were set up on tables lined along the baseball fields. Each entry had a little blue card in front of it with the name of the contestant.
“Ooh, I like that one,” said Amy, pointing out a quilted square. It showed the design of a blue bird on a tree limb. “I wonder how anyone had time to make that at camp.”
“Look, there’s Sheila’s bracelet,” said Striker. The bracelet featured blue and purple glass beads arranged in a pattern.
“It looks great!” said Amy. “I hope she gets a prize.”
“Me, too.”
They passed a drawing of a mysterious castle with a red dragon curled around the top of the tallest tower. Then, they saw
some contributions from the painting club: a watercolor of the lake at sunset and an oil painting of an old man in a fedora driving a sports car.
Striker looked ahead and saw a group of campers huddled around one table. There were so many spectators that it was impossible to see the entry. “I wonder what’s up there,” he said, pointing.
“Let’s check it out,” said Amy. “It must be good!’
And it was. Sitting on the table were five figurines whittled out of wood. About five inches tall, each was a different animal – a beaver, a lion, a giraffe, a bear, and a raccoon. The wood was smooth and shiny, and the animals all looked very realistic. Striker almost expected them to begin moving at any moment.
“They are adorable!” said Amy. “I just love the giraffe!”
“Who made them?” asked Striker.
Amy read the card, “Carol Fitzgerald. I don’t know her.”
“Me, either. But she is really talented!”
“Look, here comes the judge.” Amy pulled Striker to the side and watched Mr. Cutchins stroll through the exhibits, stopping at each to take a closer look. He occasionally smiled or made notes on the clipboard he carried.
When he came to the figurines, he spent more time examining them than he had any of the other entries.
“I think he likes them,” said Striker.
“I don’t blame him,” said Amy. “Come on, let’s go back to the beginning. That’s where they’ll announce the winners.”
Striker and Amy wove back through the entries to the opening tables of the competition. They found Sheila with a crowd underneath a large banner that announced the judging time. She looked nervous.
“I hope Mr. Cutchins finishes soon,” she said. “I can’t take this waiting!”
“Don’t worry,” said Striker. “Yours was great!”
Amy nodded enthusiastically, and Sheila smiled weakly.
Striker Jones and the Midnight Archer Page 4
