by Annie Tipton
The baby alligator blinked its eyes, seemingly bored with the whole situation. Spike’s handler, a blond-haired teenager named Luke, eyed EJ before handing the animal over.
“Spike’s stronger than he looks,” Luke said over the crowd cheering on CoraLee as she let Pokey curl around her arms like reptilian bracelets. “Are you sure you can handle him?”
“No problem,” EJ said confidently. “Let me at him.”
Luke held the animal out to EJ, but before she could get a firm grip, Spike whipped his surprisingly strong tail and head toward EJ, shocking her so much that she screamed and tripped backward, landing hard on her backside before Luke got the flailing alligator under control and put in its cage.
“Th–that thing wants to take a bite out of me!” she gasped, suddenly grateful that the rest of the campers were still too engrossed in CoraLee’s snake show to notice her embarrassing little freak out.
“Hey, easy now. He just got spooked for some reason,” Luke said, suppressing a laugh. “Not everybody can be a reptile whisperer like that girl over there.”
EJ glanced over to see that Pokey was now curled on top of CoraLee’s head like a hat that looked something like a beehive.
“No offense, but the rabbit might be more your speed,” Luke said, pointing toward the cuddly creatures end of the exhibit. “Maybe you can work up to the reptiles.”
“Hamburger or cheeseburger?” the cow asked EJ while the other barnyard animals in the serving line danced and sang multiple verses of “Old MacDonald.”
“Doesn’t that seem a little cannibalistic?” EJ grinned at the lunch lady dressed up as a Holstein.
“I’m not eating the beef, you are,” the cow answered, laughing.
“Cheeseburger, please,” EJ said, holding up her cafeteria tray.
A chicken served up celery and carrot sticks, a llama gave EJ the option of a cherry or lemon Jell-O cup (she picked cherry), and a horse gave her a carton of milk and a bottle of water.
After going through the line, she looked back when she heard a good-natured argument break out in the middle of a verse.
“Llamas hum!” the cow said. “So it should be ‘with a hmmm-hmmm here and a hmmm-hmmm there.’ ”
“No—they spit!” the chicken replied. “ ‘With a pthu-pthu here and a pthu-pthu there.’ What do you say, camper?” The chicken pointed a carrot stick at Macy, who had been standing politely quiet with her tray outstretched, waiting to be served.
“I—uh—,” Macy stammered, obviously surprised to be asked her opinion. “I guess humming seems like a better choice than spitting … you know, around food.”
“I like the way you think, girl.” The chicken added a handful of vegetable sticks to Macy’s tray. “You might have a future in being a camp cook!”
EJ waited for Macy, and they found a spot at a table and sat down to eat. EJ had just licked the whipped cream off her Jell-O cup when Gene started mail call.
“When I call your name, please come up and claim your mail quickly,” Gene said through his megaphone. “My lovely assistant, Susan, will have your letters in hand.”
“Your lovely assistant, eh?” a male counselor piped up from across the dining hall. Gene’s face turned a lovely shade of red that almost matched his hair. Susan beamed at him.
Gene’s megaphone crackled as he fumbled with the switch. “Don’t forget—anybody who receives a package in the mail must tell a joke in front of everyone to claim said package. It’s Camp Christian tradition.”
Gene started calling out names, and a steady stream of campers made their way up to Susan to claim their letters. Macy got a letter from her mom that she ripped open and started reading as she walked back to their table. Her eyes were bright and she had a strange look on her face when she sat down.
“EJ, you’re not going to believe this,” Macy said, shaking her head as she looked at the paper in her hand.
“What’s wrong?” EJ asked, her stomach clenching with nervousness.
“Actually, nothing is wrong.” Macy smiled and smoothed out the paper on the table. “Mom says we’re not moving to Milwaukee after all! The company Dad works for is going to let him telecommute and just go to Milwaukee for a couple of days every other month.”
“Mace, that’s great!” EJ’s stomach gave a little flip. She really was happy for her best friend, but the news reminded her of her own problem. I’m still moving away, so I’m still going to lose my best friend.
“Time for the packages,” Gene called through the megaphone. “Anna Baker, EJ Payne, and Wade Thompson—you each have one up here. So come on up when you have your joke ready to go.”
“All right!” EJ pushed her worries about moving to the back of her mind and focused on the task at hand: claiming that package.
Macy looked at EJ wide-eyed. “What joke are you going to tell? I’m glad I didn’t get a package.”
“Don’t worry,” EJ said, taking a final swig of milk before wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “I was born for this.”
EJ stood from her seat and walked confidently toward Susan and Gene. Which joke should I tell? she wondered. The one about the magic lamp? Or maybe the talking turtle? Oh well, I’ll just let my instincts take over once I can read the room.
“EJ, the return address says your package is from your aunt CJ in Chicago,” Susan said, shaking the package next to her ear. “Sounds like there’s some good candy in here.”
“Here you go.” Gene handed EJ the megaphone, which was heavier than it looked, so she had to grasp it with both hands to keep it steady. “Just push this button when you want to talk.”
EJ pushed what she thought was the correct button, except an ear-splitting siren blared out of the thing. It surprised EJ so much she accidentally threw the megaphone and watched it sail—seemingly in slow-motion—in an arc toward the floor.
“Whoa, there!” Gene fisted the megaphone strap and saved his precious contraption mere centimeters from it shattering on the floor. Gene’s miraculous save was impressive, and the campers gave a collective sigh—EJ wasn’t sure if it was relief or disappointment. “Maybe I’ll just hold it for you,” Gene said. “Ready?”
EJ took a deep breath. “Ready.”
Gene held the megaphone at EJ’s level and pushed the button. The megaphone gave a little squeak, so everyone knew it was on. EJ looked out at the sea of faces, all watching her expectantly.
And her mind went completely blank.
Well, almost completely blank. There was one joke that remained. The one joke she promised herself she’d never tell because she’d heard it too many times in her life already. The joke that made her roll her eyes and was hugely annoying because everyone laughed at it, even though she didn’t think it was funny. At all. But what other choice did she have? She really wanted whatever was in that package from Aunt CJ.
“Knock-knock,” she said.
“Who’s there?” the crowd asked in unison.
“Noah.”
“Noah who?”
EJ gulped. She couldn’t believe she was about to deliver this punch line:
“Noah good joke?”
EJ closed her eyes, sure she’d be booed back to her seat. But after a moment of silence, a loud burst of laughter exploded from Gene and rippled through the crowd. EJ opened her eyes to see laughing faces all across the cafeteria and joined in, relieved.
Isaac’s lame joke saved the day. Who would’ve thought?
EJ wondered if maybe she should give her little brother more credit for being funny.
Nah.
Chapter 11
INVASION OF THE DAY CAMPERS
July 23
Dear Diary,
Mom says that one way to set yourself up for success is to make sure your outside matches what you want your inside to be like. So I’m wearing my very favorite pair of Converse All-Stars (the red ones with the glitter that’s almost worn off because they’re so old), a red Camp Christian T-shirt, and my oldest and comfiest pair of jean shorts
.
Why am I trying to make sure my outside matches my inside? Today is the one day of camp I’ve been dreading: day camp. Busloads of five- and six-year-olds (all of whom are probably “space invaders” to their older brothers and sisters) will swarm the campground like a plague of locusts with their high-pitched voices, sticky hands, runny noses, short attention spans, and spaz-tastic craziness. And us older campers have to help herd them around all day as their big buddies!
But I’m going to try my best to enjoy camp today, Diary. And if I think about it for a half second, I remember having such a fun time at day camp. I especially liked hanging out with the big kids. It made me feel so grown up. So maybe I can be the cool friend to one of these little ankle biters.
EJ
“All day campers should stay seated until you are paired up with your camp buddy,” Gene barked through his megaphone, hardly being heard above the excited yelling, chattering, squealing sound of 150 day campers sitting on the grass of the rec field.
Well, they were supposed to be sitting. Mostly the boys were running around or pummeling each other or wrestling on the grass. And the girls were dancing or practicing cartwheels or picking dandelion bouquets. And there was a line of day campers being herded to the restrooms by camp counselors. (EJ thought she remembered reading somewhere it’s a scientific fact that kindergarteners have the world’s tiniest bladders.) Isaac was in his own little world, running through clusters of day campers and flexing his muscles. This would’ve been weird enough, but he was also wearing two oversized green Incredible Hulk fists and shouting, “Hulk excited! Hulk go to camp!”
“Who’s the crazy day camper who’s Hulking out over there?” EJ heard Cory Liden ask. “Oh wait, I recognize him. That’s EJ’s little brother.”
“You think that’s crazy?” EJ piped up. “That’s nothing.”
“He looks like fun,” Cory said, grinning.
EJ and her fellow fifth-grade campers stood along the edge of the rec field, overwhelmed and amused by the heightened energy of the mass of little bodies in front of them. Three loud, crackling pops came from the megaphone. EJ assumed Gene must’ve jacked the volume control up to eleven—as high as it would go.
“Day campers!” Gene’s voice boomed louder, but everybody knew he was fighting a losing battle. Nobody under the age of six even looked at him. “Hello? Is this thing on?”
“Gene, let me take a swing at this one,” Susan said. Then she winked at EJ, Macy, and the handful of other campers near them. “Join in if you know this—just a little something I learned during student teaching.”
EJ looked at Macy to see if she knew what was happening, and Macy shrugged. Susan started a very distinctive rhythmic clapping pattern—one that EJ, Macy, and the other campers from Spooner Elementary recognized as the “Zip Your Trap, It’s Time to Clap” rhythm that all of the teachers used to get students to sit down, be quiet, and pay attention.
EJ couldn’t help but wonder how this was going to work with so many kids, but she quickly joined in on the clap, keeping time with Susan. Macy and several other fifth-grade campers started clapping as well, and in a matter of seconds, the eyes of the little day campers looked toward the noise. A cluster of kindergarten boys in the middle of wrestlemania heard the clapping and—as if on cue or hypnotized by the sound—stopped beating on each other, sat down, and joined in the clapping. The swell of sound grew as more people joined in, and soon even the campers and counselors who didn’t know the rhythm at first caught on to the simple beat.
It took a little more than a minute before every day camper was sitting on the ground, clapping like it was the best game they’d ever played. (EJ had always thought the “Zip Your Trap, It’s Time to Clap” tactic was a little sneaky trick by teachers, but this time she didn’t mind a bit since it got the day campers under control.) EJ grinned at Susan, once again admiring how resourceful and cool the counselor was. Susan ended the clap with a flourish, and 150 attentive day campers were ready to get started.
The whole scene must’ve caught Gene off guard, because his precious megaphone hung at his side, and he stared openmouthed at Susan, obviously impressed with her pied piper–like skills.
“Uh, Gene …” Susan helped guide the megaphone to his mouth. “You’ve got their attention.”
Gene snapped out of his daze and pushed the button. “Welcome to day camp!” A chorus of excited cheers burst out of the crowd of kids and counselors.
For the next several minutes counselors moved throughout the day campers, checked lists on clipboards, and paired day campers with their fifth-grade buddies.
Macy got paired with a tiny girl named Shawna, who looked like she was about three seconds away from bursting into tears. Macy took her by the hand and glanced at EJ with a “What have I gotten myself into?” look as she led Shawna to the dining hall for breakfast.
Cory Liden got paired up with Isaac. EJ watched and listened as Cory invited Isaac to punch him in the stomach with his Hulk fists—a request that resulted in Cory doubled over in surprised pain.
“Still think he looks like fun?” EJ asked Cory, trying to hide a grin.
“Are you kidding?” he said, recovering quickly. “Little dude is awesome!”
“Hi, EJ!” Isaac waved a Hulk fist at his sister as he and Cory walked to breakfast. “Bye, EJ!”
“EJ, you’re with”—the counselor named Jen glanced down at the list—“McCallister. Katy McCallister.”
“YES! Yes, yes, YESSSSSSS!” Katy leaped from her spot in the grass and skipped two circles around EJ before throwing her arms around her waist in a hug. “Best day camp EVER!”
“Eeeeasy, Katy.” EJ grinned and hugged Katy back. She had to admit it felt pretty nice to be adored like that.
Breakfast was pancakes, sausage, fruit cups, juice, and milk—served by circus clowns. But everyone quickly found out there were a dozen day campers who had clown phobias, so after a handful of freak-outs and meltdowns, the cooks agreed to take off their wigs and foam noses. Still, a couple of the day campers wouldn’t sit with their backs toward the cooks. “I don’t trust their painted-on smiles,” one day camper said, and EJ secretly agreed with him.
After breakfast they all went to the gym for a camp song sing-along, followed by a short devotion given by Gene. EJ was glad he used the building’s microphone and sound system rather than giving the devotion through the megaphone.
Next up, the campers could choose from a number of different activities to do: archery lessons, boating, laser tag, pottery, kids’ karaoke, jet skiing, a campfire cooking class.
EJ knew the water-related stuff would be the most popular, so she convinced Katy they should do some of the other activities first. First they sang a karaoke duet of “Lean on Me” that got a standing ovation from the crowd. Then they spent some time at the archery range. EJ made sure Isaac wasn’t there; nobody in their right mind would give her maniac of a brother a weapon like that—she hoped. EJ was a little surprised to find she was a decent shot with a bow and arrow, so she mentally added that to her career list (although she wasn’t really sure what kind of job involved archery).
Next EJ and Katy walked to the lake, where EJ spotted Cory and Isaac strapping on lifejackets at the boat dock.
“How do you feel about bumper boats?” EJ asked Katy.
“They’re my favorite!” Katy replied, hopping excitedly. “But I thought you wanted to stay away from Isaac today.”
“I do want to stay away from him,” EJ said. “But when it comes to high seas battles, it’s my turn for a win.”
First Mate EJ Payne takes one last look at the map coordinates before rolling up the parchment and tucking it inside her uniform pocket. The open sea is perfect, with a brisk tailwind. She’s confident the merchant ship Merriweather will deliver its cargo of coffee and tea to the American colonies ahead of schedule.
“Deck Cadet Katy McCallister reporting for duty, sir … er … ma’am.” Katy blushes at her mistake but recovers quickly in a shar
p salute to her superior.
“Ah, very good, cadet.” EJ paces the Merriweather’s deck and looks out on the sea’s horizon, hands clasped behind her back. “You’ve been through your training, and you’ve done well.”
“Thank you, ma’am.” Katy stands a little straighter.
“I’d like you to take the helm.” EJ faces Katy and lays a hand on the younger sailor’s shoulder. “I’ve taught you everything I know, and I believe you’re ready for this.”
Katy’s eyes light up. “Yes ma’am!” She grasps the giant wooden wheel with both hands and pulls as hard and as fast as she can, rotating the wheel clockwise.
“Stop, Katy!” EJ grabbed the edge of her seat as the bumper boat spun like a top. “Not like that! We’re going to get dizzy!”
Katy let go of the steering wheel, and the doughnut-shaped bumper boat slowly stopped spinning. EJ tugged on the collar of her lifejacket and took deep breaths, willing her head to stop spinning, too.
“Sorry, EJ,” Katy said sheepishly. “I thought it might be good to practice—you know, to get away from—”
“Pirates!” Deck Cadet Katy shouts, pointing toward a dark ship with black sails and a Jolly Roger flag flying from the mast. Except there was something odd about the flag—it wasn’t the typical skull-and-crossbones that pirates use. No, the shape of the skull was somehow wrong. EJ raised her spyglass to get a better look.
“A T-Rex skull. Oh no,” EJ whispers.
“Hoist the mainstay! Scuttle the mainmast! Protect the starboard side! Swab the poop deck!” EJ shouts frantically.
“Swab the poop deck?” Katy asks. “Really?”
“Get us out of here!” EJ replies. “It’s the dread pirate Weird Beard!”
Too late. The pirate ship is already within striking distance.
“Katy, go below to take inventory of the weaponry in the cargo hold,” EJ orders.
