Charlie Joe Jacksons Guide to Summer Vacation

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Charlie Joe Jacksons Guide to Summer Vacation Page 11

by Tommy Greenwald


  Wow. First Jack feels the heat from his dad, and now Jared tries to be like his brother. Being a nerd was definitely waaaaay too stressful. But you know what? Jack handled his stress way better than Jared, if you ask me.

  Lauren kept talking. “And I was so excited that he liked me that I didn’t even care. Then earlier tonight, we’re talking about tomorrow’s Final Workshop, and he tells me we have to sit next to each other. ‘What do you mean,’ I said, ‘we always sit together.’ Then he says no, it’s more than that. I have to sit on his left side and make sure I don’t put my arm over my paper. I ask why and he says, ‘So I can copy your answers, duh!’ Then he laughs, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.”

  She zinged a rock at a tree. It nailed the bark with a loud THWACK! “I should have known,” she said.

  “I can’t believe it,” I said. “What a cheater. I always knew there was something about that kid.” I started skipping my own rocks. “What are you going to do?”

  “What can I do?” Lauren wondered. “I guess I’ll let him copy my answers. If I don’t, he’ll probably hate me forever.”

  “Absolutely not,” I said immediately. “If you let him copy your paper, then you’re cheating, too. You could get thrown out of camp forever.”

  (You’re probably wondering why a guy like me, who has other kids read my books, is suddenly so concerned about cheating; but hey, Lauren was a better person than me, so why should she stoop to my level?)

  “But I’m too scared to tell him!” Lauren cried. “He’ll kill me!”

  “Good point,” I said. “Can I ask you something though? Why you’re telling all this to me? Why not, like, Katie?”

  “I don’t know,” Lauren said. “I just thought maybe … you’d know what to do.”

  “Oh.”

  Okay. Lauren had a problem, and out of all the brainiacs in camp, she came to me. That was pretty cool. “Well, we’ll have to come up with a plan,” I said.

  “Like what?” she said, looking at me hopefully.

  “Let me think for a minute.”

  I thought for a minute … then for another minute … and then for another minute …

  And then it hit me.

  A good plan. Actually, a perfect plan. A plan that had only one weakness.

  It would get me banished from Camp Rituhbukkee forever and hated by everyone who went there. And just when I decided I liked camp after all!

  I know: It was a pretty big weakness.

  But when I looked at Lauren sitting there crying, I realized I had to go for it.

  “I have an idea.”

  “What’s that?”

  “If you’re not at the test, Jared can’t copy your answers.”

  “Why in the world would I miss the test?”

  I picked up a rock that was perfectly flat and tossed it. It skipped six times.

  “Because I’m going to miss the test, too,” I said.

  43

  The next morning, Lauren sat next to me on the bus to Old Bridgetown.

  “Are you sure about this?” she asked.

  “Very,” I said. “Just remember to wait for my signal. Where’s Jared?”

  “I’ve been avoiding him,” she said.

  “Good.”

  “Also, I’ve been thinking…” Lauren added.

  “Uh-oh,” I replied. “That’s your first mistake.”

  She tried to smile. “What if we get caught? I don’t want to get in trouble for Jared, he’s not worth it.”

  I laughed. “Well, you won’t, but I will.”

  “Well then, I don’t want YOU to get in trouble!”

  “That’s okay,” I told her, “I’m used to it.”

  She sighed. “I’ve never done anything like this before. It’s not exactly being honest.”

  “No one has to know,” I answered. “Ever.”

  Lauren still looked unsure.

  “Your only other option,” I continued, “is to go tell Dr. Mal right now about what Jared wants you to do.”

  “I can’t do that,” she said quietly. I wasn’t sure if that was because some tiny part of her still wanted to protect Jared, or because she was so embarrassed that she ever fell for him in the first place.

  Maybe both.

  * * *

  The bus pulled into the Old Bridgetown parking lot— the only part of the whole place that didn’t look like it was from the 1700s—and we all piled off. As soon as we started walking to the Little Yellow Schoolhouse, I doubled over and grabbed my stomach.

  “I don’t think that sausage agreed with me,” I said to Dwayne. “I need to make a quick trip to the bathroom.”

  Dwayne looked at me like he didn’t quite believe me—can you imagine?—then finally nodded. “Fine, hurry up,” he said.

  I went over to the bathroom and shut the door. After a few minutes, I snuck around to the back of the schoolhouse, where I hid behind a tree for five more minutes. Then I crept up to an open window and listened.

  Two minutes later I heard Dr. Mal’s voice.

  “I thought you said he went to the bathroom!”

  Dwayne replied, “That’s what he told me. I went to find him and he was gone.”

  A hand slammed down on a desk. “This kid is killing me,” Dr. Mal said. “Killing me!”

  Then the schoolmistress’s voice: “How would you like to proceed?”

  “We’re already running behind,” Dr. Mal told her. “Let’s get started. We have to head back to camp by ten o’clock.”

  It was time. I threw a small pebble against the window.

  That was Lauren’s cue.

  Five seconds later, I heard her voice. “I think I might know what happened. Last night at the campfire he told me he would probably do badly at Final Workshop, and his parents would be so mad they’d make him take summer school when he got home. He was kind of panicky and didn’t know what to do.”

  I heard some rustling—maybe people moving around, to hear Lauren better—then her voice again: “He said the same thing on the bus ride here this morning. He said he would rather run away and skip the test, then take it and do really badly. He said he was going to sneak off and go somewhere. I didn’t think he was serious, or I would have told you.”

  Dr. Mal: “Sneak off where?”

  Schoolmistress Moffitt, forging ahead: “Students, please begin.”

  Lauren: “He did mention a place, I think.”

  Dwayne: “He did?!?”

  Dr. Mal: “He did?!?”

  Both: “WHERE?!?!?”

  Lauren, sounding very flustered (she was a good actress): “I don’t know! I mean I’m not sure!”

  Dr. Mal: “It’s okay, it’s not your fault. Let’s calm down, everybody. Lauren, do you think you can remember?”

  Lauren: “He did mention someplace, but I was focused on the test and it was loud on the bus and he was whispering and I wasn’t really listening. I’m really sorry.”

  “It’s okay,” said Dr. Mal again.

  “I think if I saw it I’d remember, though.” Lauren added. “Maybe someone could take me around Old Bridgetown. I think if I saw the name of the place I might remember.”

  Next I heard whispering, and then finally Dr. Mal’s voice: “Fine. Dwayne will walk the grounds with Lauren. I’ll stay here with the other campers, in case Charlie Joe comes to his senses and returns.”

  The plan was working perfectly, but then I got a special treat. I heard Jared say, “Seriously? Why does she get out of taking the test? That’s so not fair.”

  “This doesn’t concern you, Jared,” said Dr. Mal, which made Jared moan and groan for another minute. It was awesome.

  Sadly, though, I couldn’t stick around to hear any more whining, because I had to get to Ye Olde Fudge Factory, and fast. I figured I had about five minutes to get there—enough time for Lauren and Dwayne to walk around Old Bridgetown, and for her to “realize” it was the Fudge Factory she’d been looking for.

  That was part two of the plan.


  44

  I sprinted as fast as I could to Ye Olde Fudge Factory, which was all the way on the other side of Old Bridgetown, so I was totally out of breath when I got there. Since it was still early, Bart the Fudgemaker was the only one around. He was cooking something that smelled so good it made my mouth and my eyes water.

  “What are you making?”

  Bart looked up from his huge pot. “Well, hey,” he said. Then he looked past me. “Where’s the rest of your troop?”

  “We’re on our own today.”

  He eyed me suspiciously. “Really? They don’t usually allow that.”

  “Well, we’re from a camp for gifted kids, so I guess that makes us more responsible.”

  Bart thought that one over for a minute, then shrugged and went back to his cooking.

  “What are you making?” I repeated.

  “Coconut fudge,” Bart said, stirring what looked like brown mud. “House specialty.”

  “Can I taste it?”

  “It’s not done.”

  “Please?”

  Bart looked around, then took a small wooden spoon and dipped it into the melting chocolate. He handed it to me. “Blow on it first.”

  I blew for about half a second, then took a bite (more like a sip, actually). It burned my mouth a little, but I didn’t care. It was quite possibly the single greatest thing I’d ever tasted. It was even better than the first time I discovered the combination of caramel and apple.

  “Wow,” I said. And then, for good measure, I added, “Wow, wow, wow, wow, wow.”

  “Yeah, it rocks the house,” Bart said, still stirring.

  I was begging Bart for another bite-sip when the door swung open. Dwayne and Lauren stood there.

  “I knew it, the fudge factory!” she said, nodding excitedly.

  Dwayne marched in and grabbed me by the collar, practically lifting me off the floor.

  “Is this your idea of a joke?” he yelled. Without letting go of me, he got out his cell phone and pressed a button. “Yeah, I got him. Fudge factory.” He hung up, glared at me again, then set his sights on Bart. “And what do you think you’re doing, letting some kid wander in here by himself?”

  Bart was too scared to speak, so I did. “Bart was just about to call the security people, he was just making sure he didn’t start a fire first. He yelled at me, too.”

  Dwayne stared at Bart, but decided that he only had enough energy to be furious at one person. That would be me.

  “All summer long we’ve put up with your shenanigans, because you seem like a good kid. And you actually did a brave thing with the Extra Workshop protest—that was pretty cool. But this is totally uncool. Totally uncool!” He looked at Lauren, who was still in the doorway. “You’re lucky she told us where you were, or else we might have never found you, and you would have had to walk home.”

  “You would have found me, this place isn’t that big,” I said.

  “That’s not the point!” Dwayne was yelling now. “You need to respect the rules!” Dwayne shook his head. “I don’t even want to know what kind of trouble you’re going to be in.”

  Then, as if to answer Dwayne’s question, Dr. Mal walked in. Ms. Domerca was right behind him.

  Dr. Mal paced around the Fudge Factory for about a minute, not saying a word. Finally, I decided to start the conversation.

  “I skipped the test because I don’t belong here,” I told Dr. Mal. “Remember the first day, at the Welcome Ring, you said I was more like everyone here than I realized? Well, that was crazy then, and it’s crazy now. It’s the most obvious thing in the world. Kids come here because they love to read. I love to not read. So why don’t we just call my coming to this camp a big mistake. In three hours my parents will pick me up and you’ll never have to see me again.”

  Ms. Domerca stared at me with tears in her eyes. “I can’t even begin to describe how disappointed I am in you,” she said.

  I so wanted to tell her everything. About Katie, about Zoe, about Lauren and Jared and our plan.

  But I didn’t.

  “Obviously you will never be returning to our camp,” Dr. Mal said. Then he looked at Lauren. “Thank you for your help. You’re welcome to join the others for Final Workshop, if you’d like.”

  “I think I’ll skip it,” Lauren said, almost whispering. “I’m a little upset.”

  I looked at her. Man, she was good. Who knew?

  Dr. Mal nodded. “Fine. Dwayne, please take them to the bus to wait for the others. Don’t let Charlie Joe out of your sight.”

  “Will do, Dr. Malstrom,” Dwayne said.

  As we walked to the bus, Lauren took a quick glance at me.

  Thank you, she said, without actually making a sound.

  45

  Dwayne, Lauren, and I waited on the bus alone for an hour and a half. No one said a word.

  Eventually, the rest of the kids came out of the schoolhouse and got on the bus. They all completely ignored me. Katie wouldn’t even look at me.

  It was like I was right back where I started, on the first day of camp: a total outsider.

  The only one who spoke to me was George.

  “What happened?” he whispered. “Where were you? Is it true that you just decided to skip workshop and go to Ye Olde Fudge Factory? Are you kidding me? Who does that?”

  I didn’t answer any of his questions.

  “We believed in you,” George said. “We thought you were one of us.”

  When Jared got on the bus, he stared at Lauren for a second. Then he went all the way to the back and sat by himself, staring out the window.

  No one sang any arias—or any other kind of songs—the whole way back to camp.

  Dear Mom and Dad,

  By the time you read this, I will be back home, and probably grounded. I’m sure you won’t believe me, but I actually got in trouble because I was helping a friend. I can’t say any more than that.

  Right now, I’m sitting in my cabin, and everything’s packed up. In fifteen minutes we’re going up to the flagpole to wait for the parents, and camp will finally be over. But guess what? I actually had a decent time at camp, and I made some good friends. And believe it or not, I was starting to think I might even want to come back here next year. Unfortunately, though, that’s not possible now.

  But that’s okay, because helping a friend is way more important.

  Your loving son,

  Charlie Joe

  46

  Four hours later, everyone was standing in a giant circle around the flagpole, just like the first day of camp. But this time, it was called the “Farewell Ring.” All the campers were there, of course. Except for one.

  I was in Dr. Mal’s office, looking out the window, waiting for my parents to pick me up.

  I watched as the kids held hands and sang “Learning to Love, and Loving to Learn” for the last time. I watched as Dr. Mal went around and shook each camper’s hand. I watched as all the parents started to pull up, get out of their cars, and hug their children. Nareem’s parents. Katie’s parents. George’s parents. Cathy’s parents. Jack’s parents (and grandmother, complete with chocolate chip cookies wrapped in their usual five layers of tinfoil).

  Then I saw my parents’ car coming down the long dirt road. My mom was driving, my dad was in the passenger seat, and my sister Megan was in the back. Moose and Coco, our dogs, were fighting to stick their heads out the same window. You could tell by the excited looks on their faces that they knew they were coming to pick me up.

  My dad got out of the car first. I saw him look for me, then scratch his head when he couldn’t find me. I didn’t want to watch anymore, so I sat down on the couch, staring at those six thousand diplomas again. A minute later Dr. Mal came in.

  “Your parents are here. Let’s go.”

  We headed outside. As soon as they saw me, my parents and sister ran up and hugged me.

  “We missed you so much!” they all said, in some form or another. The dogs were barking like crazy, so I ran up to th
em and kissed and hugged them for about three minutes.

  “Why were you waiting inside?” asked Megan.

  Before I could say anything, Dr. Mal came up to my parents and reintroduced himself. Then he said, “We are just about to do the final announcements for the year, but afterward I would like to talk with you both for just a moment.”

  My parents looked at each other.

  “Is there a problem?” my dad asked Dr. Mal. It seemed like with me, they always kind of expected the worst. For good reason, I suppose.

  Dr. Mal flashed his friendliest smile. “Let’s talk afterward, shall we?” Then he blew a whistle. “Announcements, please! Announcements!” he yelled, and everyone assembled around the flagpole, this time with parents in the mix.

  “We’ve had a memorable summer here at Camp Rituhbukkee,” Dr. Mal said. “A very interesting and unusual summer at times, certainly, but overall it was wonderfully rewarding. Thank you for entrusting us with your remarkable children.”

  People clapped and hugged, but the energy was low. Everyone seemed kind of wiped out from the morning’s drama.

  Dr. Mal went on. “And now, I’d like to announce the winner of our very first Rituhbukkee Reward.” A hush fell over the circle. “As I mentioned on the first day of camp, this high honor goes to the camper who best displays the camp’s core values of integrity, community, and scholarship. At stake is a full scholarship to next year’s session.” Dr. Mal paused. “The winner of the inaugural Rituhbukkee Reward is one of our finest campers, a person of compassion, kindness, and—as she showed just this morning—great responsibility. Please join me in congratulating Lauren Rubin.”

  People broke out in huge cheers. Everyone loved Lauren. She looked shocked. Her mom and dad were hugging, and her mom was crying. They looked so proud.

  Lauren went up to Dr. Mal and shook his hand. Then Dr. Singer gave her a framed certificate. She looked at everyone, smiled, and headed back to her parents.

 

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