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【Tags 164 40meterP Miku tF M】 Original Music title 未来線 English music title Future Line / Future Horizon Romaji music title Miraisen Lyrics written by 40㍍P (40meterP) Music written by 164 Music arranged by 40㍍P (40meterP) 164 Singer(s) 初音ミク (Hatsune Miku) Click here for the original Japanese Lyrics English Lyrics (translated by animeyay)： I ran into my past self on the station platform where I was standing still. She was staring at me with her ultra clear pupils. "Have you changed, even slightly?" My past self asked me. "I ve become stronger, slightly." I lied to her. Saying nothing, without crying, she smiled at me. I have always hated my past self. Before you disappeared, before I would forget you, I called out your name. Inside my disappeared dream, I ran into my future self. She was staring at me with her ultra tired eyes. "Have you changed, even slightly?" I asked my future self. "I ve become stronger, slightly." I could tell she was only acting strong. I know very well that is a lie, merely feigned toughness. I know you better than anyone else does. Before you disappeared, before I would forget you, you called out my name. Saying nothing, without crying, she smiled at me. I have always hated my past self. It matters not if it s a lie or feigned toughness. You should just live life the way you want. I will come to see you someday in this town, for sure, at the future s horizon. Nobody is there now on the distancing station platform. The color of the cleared sky is the same as always. Romaji lyrics (transliterated by animeyay)： tachidomatta eki no hoomu ano hi no jibun ni deaeta sumiwatatta sono hitomi de boku o mitsumete ta "honno chotto kawareta?" tte ano hi no jibun ga tazuneta "honno chotto tsuyoku nareta" to ka uso o tsuita n da nani mo iwanaide naki mo shinaide hohoende ta boku ga zutto kirai datta no hi no boku kiete yuku mae ni wasureru mae ni kimi no namae yonda kiekakatta yume no naka de mirai no jibun ni deaeta tsukarekitta sono hitomi de boku o mitsumete ta "honno chotto kawareta?" tte mirai no jibun ni tazuneta "honno chotto tsuyoku nareta" to ka tsuyogatte ta n da sore ga uso datte tsuyogari datte wakatte ru yo kimi no koto wa ichiban boku ga shitte iru yo kiete yuku mae ni wasureru mae ni boku no namae yonda nani mo iwanaide naki mo shinaide hohoende ta boku ga zutto kirai datta no hi no boku sore ga uso datte tsuyogari datte kamawanai yo kimi ga ima mo kimi no mama de ikite ireba kono machi de itsuka kimi no moto e ai ni yuku yo kitto, miraisen de toozakatta eki no hoomu soko ni wa dare mo inakute harewatatta sora no iro wa kyou mo kawaranai [1640mP, 164, 40m-P, 40mP, 40meter-P, 40meterP]
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http //www.americanheartbreak.com/ http //www.myspace.com/americanheartbreak member Lance Boone vocal Billy Rowe guitar Casey Crenshaw guitar Michael Butler bass Erik Lannon drums CDYou Can't Kill Rock N Roll Postcards From Hell DVDLive @ Out Break, Yotsuya, Tokyo November 12nd 2006 Live @ Out Break, Yotsuya, Tokyo November 11st 2006 Live @ Out Break, Yotsuya, Tokyo November 10th 2006 Live @ Out Break, Yotsuya, Tokyo November 9th 2006 V.A. world / Glam That Stole Chritmas ( 2004年12月14日 ) CD You Can t Kill Rock N Roll 2001年11月6日 ( HD ) 1. Postcards From Hell / 2. Rotten Apple / 3. She s Tellin Lies / 4. Condemned 2000 / 5. Genius Of Crack / 6. Am I Ever Gonna See Your Face Again / 7. In Heaven / 8. I Don t Belong / 9. Catwalk / 10. Candy / 11. Ask The Lonely / 12. Just Got Back Postcards From Hell 2000年9月21日 1. Superstar / 2. White Girl / 3. Drinks / 4. Too Beautiful / 5. Please Kill Me / 6. Brain Vacation / 7. Dead At Seventeen / 8. Seven Time Loser / 9. Not Alright / 10. 4 A.M. / 11. Arm Candy / 12. Idiots On Parade / 13. I Wish You Were ( D.E.A.D. ) / 14. Angeline / 15. Postcards From Hell / 16. Trash produced by Matt Bayles AMERICAN HEARTBREAK DVD Live @ Out Break, Yotsuya, Tokyo November 12nd 2006 Lance Boone (vo), Billy Rowe (g), Casey Crenshaw (g), Michael Butler (b), Erik Lannon (ds) Live @ Out Break, Yotsuya, Tokyo November 11st 2006 Lance Boone (vo), Billy Rowe (g), Casey Crenshaw (g), Michael Butler (b), Erik Lannon (ds) Live @ Out Break, Yotsuya, Tokyo November 10th 2006 Lance Boone (vo), Billy Rowe (g), Casey Crenshaw (g), Michael Butler (b), Erik Lannon (ds) Live @ Out Break, Yotsuya, Tokyo November 9th 2006 Lance Boone (vo), Billy Rowe (g), Casey Crenshaw (g), Michael Butler (b), Erik Lannon (ds)
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9. The Only Easy Day... Was Yesterday Board the oilrig, rescue the hostages, and clear the route to the gulag. 石油リグを強襲し、人質を救出せよ。収容所へのルートを開け。 TASK FORCE 141 - SGT. GARY "ROACH" SANDERSON タスクフォース141 ゲイリー "ローチ" サンダーソン軍曹 Captain MacTavish Seems we re headed the wrong direction, Sir. Shouldn t we be coming back to fight? Captain MacTavish 向かう方角が違います。我々は本土の防衛に就くべきでは？ Shepherd Plenty of fight to go around, MacTavish. Shepherd 戦う場所など何処にでもある、マクタビッシュ。 Shepherd Glad you made it outta South America. You re meeting up with the 6th Fleet. Leadin the counter-strike. Shepherd よくぞ南米から生還した。君達には第六艦隊のロシア反攻作戦に参加してもらう。 Shepherd Prisoner Six-Tow-Seven. We believe that s who Makarov s got the mad-on for. But we can t get to him. Shepherd 囚人"627"号･･･ マカロフがご執心の人物だな。だが、そこへ辿り着くのは容易ではないぞ。 Captain MacTavish Oilrigs, Sir? Captain MacTavish "石油リグ"ですか？ Shepherd Russians are using them as SAM sites. Shepherd ロシア軍はこれらをSAM（地対空ミサイル）基地に改造している。 Shepherd Oil workers are human shields, so we can t just blow up the rigs wholesale. And this one is the least defended. Shepherd 作業員が人質になっていて、丸ごと吹き飛ばす訳にもいかん。そして、最も守りが薄いのがこれだ。 Shepherd Boy s I know I m sending you into the meat grinder on this one... Shepherd 君達を肉挽機に送り込むような作戦だとは承知しているが･･･ Captain MacTavish They re defending it, so it means we want it. Especially if it gets us to Six-Two-Seven. Captain MacTavish 守りを固めているということは、敵にとっても重要なのでしょう。まして"627"号へ繋がる道ならば― （以下、原子力潜水艦USSシカゴとUSSダラスの無線通信） USS Chicago USSシカゴより水密格納筒へ。発進だ。 USS Chicago DDS（ドライデッキシェルター）注水完了。圧力正常。 USS Chicago 投下開始。 Captain Macavish チーム1、SDV（SEAL輸送潜水艇）発進します。 USS Chicago ホテル6、019に艦。 USS Dallas USSダラス、チーム2投下。作戦開始。 USS Chicago ホテル6、あと20mだ。 Team2 Soldier チーム2、目標に到達。 "The Only Easy Day...Was Yesterday" （＊１） "楽に過ごせた日は昨日まで" Day 5 - 05 48 5日目 - 05 48 Sgt. Gary Roach Sanderson ゲイリー "ローチ" サンダーソン軍曹 Task Force 141 タスクフォース141 Vikhorevka 36 Oil Platform, Russia ロシア ヴィホレフカ 第36石油採掘リグ Captain MacTavish We ll take them out at the same time...on your go. Captain MacTavish 同時にやろう･･･タイミングは任せたぞ。 Captain MacTavish In position, Let s take them out together, On your go. Captain MacTavish 位置についた。同時にやるぞ･･･タイミングは任せる。 （ロシア語のセリフ） まったく嫌になるぜ。なんて寒さだ。 ああ、まったくだぜ。 Captain MacTavish Two hostiles down in section One-Alpha. Moving up to section Two. Captain MacTavish セクション1-Aの敵2名を排除。セクション2へ移動する。 Sub Commander Roger that,Hotel Six. Sub Commander（潜水艦司令） 了解だ、ホテル6。 Captain MacTavish Keep it tight people. Captain MacTavish 油断するな。 Captain MacTavish Ready weapons. Captain MacTavish 武器の準備をしろ。 Ghost Got a visual by the railing. Ghost 手すりに一人。 Captain MacTavish Free to engage. Suppressed weapons only. Captain MacTavish 交戦を許可する。消音のみだ。 Ghost We re clear. Ghost クリア。 Sub Commander Civilian hostages at your position,watch your fire. Sub Commander そこには民間人の人質がいる。発砲には注意せよ。 Captain MacTavish Roger that. Team One moving to breach. Captain MacTavish 了解。チーム1、突入する。 （ロシア語のセリフ） 敵襲だ！ Ghost Clear. Ghost クリア。 Captain MacTavish We re clear. Captain MacTavish クリアだ。 Captain MacTavish Hostages secured in section Two-Echo. Captain MacTavish セクション2-Eの人質を確保。 Sub Commander Roger that Hotel Six,Team 2 will secure and evac,get topside and find the rest of the civvies. Sub Commander 了解。チーム2が保護、脱出させる。上階へ移動しつつ、残りの人質を解放せよ。 Captain MacTavish OK, move upstairs. Control - we re advancing to Deck Two. Captain MacTavish 了解、これより第2デッキへ移動する。 Captain MacTavish Get a frame charge on the door. We re hit the room from both sides. Captain MacTavish 突入用爆薬をドアに設置しろ。両方同時に行くぞ。 Captain MacTavish Get a charge on the door. We ll breach from both sides. Captain MacTavish ドアに爆薬を設置しろ。両方同時に突入するぞ。 Captain MacTavish Blow the doors. We ll hit them from both sides. Captain MacTavish ドアを吹き飛ばせ。両方同時に行くぞ。 Captain MacTavish Get into position. Captain MacTavish 位置に着け。 Sub Commander Roger that Hotel Six,Team 2 will secure and evac,continue your search topside. Sub Commander 了解だ、ホテル6。チーム2が保護、脱出させる。このまま捜索を続けろ。 TF-141 Soldier Get topside, we got this area covered. TF-141 Soldeir 上階へ移動して下さい。このエリアーをカバーします。 TF-141 Soldier We got this area covered. Move up to deck 2 with your team. TF-141 Soldeir エリアをカバーします。第2デッキに向かって下さい。 TF-141 Soldeir Roach,get moving topside,this area is secure. TF-141 Soldeir ローチ、上へ向かえ。ここは制圧済みだ。 Captain MacTavish Eyes open. Watch your sectors. Captain MacTavish 周囲を警戒しろ。 Sub Commander Enemy helo patroling the perimeter. Keep a low profile,Hotel Six. Sub Commander 敵のヘリが巡回中だ、ホテル6。目立つ行動は避けろ。 Captain MacTavish Roger that. Captain MacTavish 了解。 Ghost Enemy helo, get out of sight. Ghost ヘリに見られるなよ。 Ghost Enemy helo. Get down. Ghost 敵のヘリだ。伏せろ。 Ghost Helo approaching. Get down. Ghost ヘリが接近中。伏せろ。 Captain MacTavish All clear,move up. Captain MacTavish オールクリア、移動するぞ。 Sub Commander Hotel Six,more hostages are at your position. Sub Commander ホテル6、そこにも人質が数名いる。 Captain MacTavish Copy that. Captain MacTavish 了解だ。 Ghost Clear. Ghost クリア。 Captain MacTavish Clear. Captain MacTavish クリア。 Captain MacTavish Control - all Deck Two hostages secured. Captain MacTavish 司令部、第2デッキの人質をすべて確保。 （ロシア語の無線） こちら本部だ、応答しろ。 どうした、聞こえないのか？ Ghost Enemy radio....I think we re going to have company sir... Ghost この無線･･･もうすぐ団体が来そうですぜ。 Captain MacTavish Set up for plan B. Get some C4 on those bodies,go. Captain MacTavish "プランB"の準備だ。敵の死体にC4を仕掛けろ。 Captain MacTavish Get C4 on those bodies ASAP, We don t have much time. Captain MacTavish 早く仕掛けろ。あまり時間が無い。 Ghost C4 placed, sir. Ghost 設置完了。 Captain MacTavish Get an elevated position. We ll ambush them when they discover the bodies. Captain MacTavish 高所で待ち伏せるぞ。死体が発見されると同時に奇襲を掛ける。 Captain MacTavish There s the patrol. Hold your fire until they re closer. Captain MacTavish 奴らが来たぞ。もう少し近づくまで待て。 Captain MacTavish Standby.... Captain MacTavish まだだ･･･ Captain MacTavish Plan B. Do it. Captain MacTavish "プランB" やれ。 Captain MacTavish Control,this is Hotel Six. Our cover is blown. Captain MacTavish 司令部、こちらホテル6。敵に存在を知られた。 Sub Commander Copy that,intel still indicates hostages and possible explosives on the top deck. Sub Commander 了解。情報によると、最上階にはまだ人質がおり、爆発物が設置されている可能性がある。 Sub Commander Your team needs to secure that location before we can send in reinforcements to handle the SAM sites,over. Sub Commander 君達にそこを制圧してもらわないと、SAMに対処する部隊を送り込めない。どうぞ。 Captain MacTavish Roger that. Will call in for exfil at LZ Bravo. Captain MacTavish 了解。終了後は脱出地点Bへ向かう。 Captain MacTavish CentCom needs us to take the top deck ASAP so they can send in the Marines. Move. Captain MacTavish 司令部から、海兵隊を送り込むため、可及的速やかに最上階を確保しろとのお達しだ。行くぞ。 Captain MacTavish Move. Captain MacTavish 行け。 Sub Commander Hotel Six,hostages from lower decks are being extracted by Team 2. Processed to the top deck ASAP to secure the rest,over. Sub Commander ホテル6、下層デッキの人質はチーム2が脱出させている。可及的速やかに上部デッキを制圧してくれ。 Captain MacTavish Copy that,we re working on it. Out. Captain MacTavish 了解。今向かっている所だ。 Ghost Enemy helicopter! Get down, get down! Ghost 敵のヘリだ！伏せろ！ Ghost Attack heli 12 o clock,find some cover! Ghost 12時に攻撃ヘリ！隠れろ！ Captain MacTavish Find some heavy ordinance to take down that bird. Captain MacTavish あのヘリを落とせる重火器を探せ！ Captain MacTavish Take out that chopper. Look for some rockets. Captain MacTavish あのヘリを始末しろ！ロケット砲はないか？ Captain MacTavish We ve gotta neutralize that helicopter. Keep an eye out for any heavy artillery and take it out. Captain MacTavish あのヘリを何とかしないと･･･ 対空武器を見つけてあいつを始末しろ。 Captain MacTavish We re getting shredded by that chopper. Look for some RPGs or rockets and take it down. Captain MacTavish あのヘリで身動きが取れん。RPGかロケット砲を探して撃墜しろ。 Captain MacTavish 早くヘリを落とせ！これじゃ身動きが取れん！ Ghost Firing missile. Ghost ミサイル発射！ Ghost Firing AT4. Ghost AT-4、発射！ Ghost Nice shot, Roach. Ghost ナイスショットだ、ローチ。 Ghost Enemy helicopter has been neutralized. Ghost ヘリを無力化。 Ghost That helo is history. Nice shot. Ghost 奴は逝っちまったぜ。ナイスショット。 Captain MacTavish The clock s ticking. We need to get to topside and secure any remaining hostages before we call in the Marines. Captain MacTavish 時間を喰ったな。増援を呼ぶために、最上階の人質を確保しないと。 Captain MacTavish Split up. We can flank through these hallways. Captain MacTavish 二手に分かれよう。俺達はここを抜けて、敵の側面を突く。 Captain MacTavish Let s go! Those hostages aren t going to rescure themselves. Captain MacTavish 急げ、人質は自力で助かったりしないぞ。 Captain MacTavish Move up. Captain MacTavish 進め。 Ghost They re throwing up a smokescreen. Ghost 敵が煙幕を張っています。 Captain MacTavish All teams be advised these guys are a step up - they re using thermal optics to see through the smoke. Captain MacTavish 注意しろ。敵は準備万端だ。サーマルで煙幕を見通してくるぞ。 Captain MacTavish These guys have thermal optics. Stay clear of the smoke. Captain MacTavish 煙幕に入るな。サーマルで向こうからはまる見えだぞ。 Sub Commandr Hotel Six,be advised,hostages have been confirmed at your location along with possible explosives,over. Sub Commandr ホテル6、最上階の人質が爆発物と見られる物と共に確認された。どうぞ。 Captain MacTavish Copy that. All teams check your fire - we don t know what s behind these doors. Captain MacTavish 了解。総員、発砲注意― 扉の向こうに何があるか判らんぞ。 Captain MacTavish Get a frame charge on the door. We re hit the room from both sides. Captain MacTavish ドアに爆薬を設置しろ。両方から同時に突入する。 Ghost Clear. Ghost クリア。 Captain MacTavish Room clear. Captain MacTavish ルームクリア。 Captain MacTavish Control,all hostages have been secured. I repeat - all hostages secured. Proceeding to LZ Bravo,over. Captain MacTavish 司令部へ、全人質を確保。繰り返す、全人質を確保。脱出地点Bへ移動する、どうぞ。 Sub Commander Good job,Hotel Six. Marine reinforcements are inserting now to dismantle the SAM sites. Get your team ready for phase two of the operation. Out. Sub Commander よくやってくれた、ホテル6。これより海兵隊がSAMを無力化する作業に入る。君達は作戦の第二段階に備えてくれ。 （＊１） The Only Easy Day...Was Yesterday ： 訓練の過酷さと強い責任感を表す海軍の特殊部隊SEALsのモットー。 (C)2009 ACTIVISION Ltd. (C)2009 Infinity Ward, Inc. 海兵隊が海軍や海軍兵になっています。 -- 名無しさん (2010-08-20 15 34 20) ＣｏＤ４のときの誤訳みたいだ。懐かしい -- 名無しさん (2011-02-10 00 42 23) MactavishじゃなくてMacavishになっとる -- 名無しさん (2011-03-31 22 11 25) ご指摘ありがとうございます。修正しました。 -- 管理人 (2011-05-28 13 48 41) 名前 コメント
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(加わろうかな…) と、その時 ゴゴン！ ラピュタが浮上し、大きく傾いた！ 夜神月のみダクトから転落死。哀れ。 【夜神月＠DEATH NOTE 死亡確認】 皆の思考が混乱している。 と、その時 グゴオーン！ ラピュタの雷が落ちた。ラピュタが正常な向きになった。 その直後、一度目の墜落で損傷していたラピュタが再び墜落、島に不時着した瞬間崩壊が始まった。 【剛田武(アニメ版)＠ドラえもん 死亡確認】 【巴マミ＠魔法少女まどか☆マギカ 死亡確認】 【野比のび太＠ドラえもん 死亡確認】 死因：圧死 【T-880＠ターミネーターシリーズ 死亡確認】 【味吉陽一＠ミスター味っ子 死亡確認】 【堺一馬＠ミスター味っ子 死亡確認】 【中江兵太＠ミスター味っ子 死亡確認】 【劉虎峰＠ミスター味っ子 死亡確認】 【柊かがみ＠らき☆すた 死亡確認】 【アサシン＠fate 死亡確認】 【鹿目まどか＠魔法少女まどか☆マギカ 死亡確認】 【暁美ほむら＠魔法少女まどか☆マギカ 死亡確認】 【桂言葉＠School Days 死亡確認】 【源静香＠ドラえもん 死亡確認】 【骨川スネ夫＠ドラえもん 死亡確認】 【剛田武(漫画版)＠ドラえもん 死亡確認】 死因：ラピュタにつぶされ圧死 残った上条とT-1000はラピュタに乗り込んだ。
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Holes Louis Sachar 2 PART ONE YOU ARE ENTERING CAMP GREEN LAKE 1 There is no lake at Camp Green Lake. There once was a very large lake here, the largest lake in Texas. That was over a hundred years ago. Now it is just a dry, flat wasteland. There used to be a town of Green Lake as well. The town shriveled and dried up along with the lake, and the people who lived there. During the summer the daytime temperature hovers around ninety-five degrees in the shade? if you can find any shade. There s not much shade in a big dry lake. The only trees are two old oaks on the eastern edge of the "lake." A hammock is stretched between the two trees, and a log cabin stands behind that. The campers are forbidden to lie in the hammock. It belongs to the Warden. The Warden owns the shade. Out on the lake, rattlesnakes and scorpions find shade under rocks and in the holes dug by the campers. Here s a good rule to remember about rattlesnakes and scorpions If you don t bother them, they won t bother you. Usually. Being bitten by a scorpion or even a rattlesnake is not the worst thing that can happen to you. You won t die. Usually. Sometimes a camper will try to be bitten by a scorpion, or even a small rattlesnake. Then he will get to spend a day or two recovering in his tent, instead of having to dig a hole out on the lake But you don t want to be bitten by a yellow-spotted lizard. That s the worst thing that can happen to you. You will die a slow and painful death. Always. If you get bitten by a yellow-spotted lizard, you might as well go into the shade of the oak trees and lie in the hammock. There is nothing anyone can do to you anymore. 2 The reader is probably asking Why would anyone go to Camp Green Lake? Most campers weren t given a choice. Camp Green Lake is a camp for bad boys. If you take a bad boy and make him dig a hole every day in the hot sun, it will turn him into a good boy. That was what some people thought. 3 Stanley Yelnats was given a choice. The judge said, "You may go to jail, or you may go to Camp Green Lake." Stanley was from a poor family. He had never been to camp before. 3 Stanley Yelnats was the only passenger on the bus, not counting the driver or the guard The guard sat next to the driver with his seat turned around facing Stanley A rifle lay across his lap Stanley was sitting about ten rows back, handcuffed to his armrest His backpack lay on the seat next to him It contained his toothbrush, toothpaste, and a box of stationery his mother had given him He d promised to write to her at least once a week. He looked out the window, although there wasn t much to see? mostly fields of hay and cotton. He was on a long bus ride to nowhere The bus wasn t air-conditioned, and the hot, heavy air was almost as stifling as the handcuffs. Stanley and his parents had tried to pretend that he was just going away to camp for a while, just like rich kids do. When Stanley was younger he used to play with stuffed animals, and pretend the animals were at camp. Camp Fun and Games he called it. Sometimes he d have them play soccer with a marble. Other times they d run an obstacle course, or go bungee jumping off a table, tied to broken rubber bands. Now Stanley tried to pretend he was going to Camp Fun and Games Maybe he d make some friends, he thought. At least he d get to swim in the lake. He didn t have any friends at home. He was overweight and the kids at his middle school often teased him about his size. Even his teachers sometimes made cruel comments without realizing it. On his last day of school, his math teacher, Mrs Bell, taught ratios. As an example, she chose the heaviest kid in the class and the lightest kid m the class, and had them weigh themselves. Stanley weighed three times as much as the other boy Mrs. Bell wrote the ratio on the board, 3 1, unaware of how much embarrassment she had caused both of them. Stanley was arrested later that day. He looked at the guard who sat slumped in his seat and wondered if he had fallen asleep. The guard was wearing sunglasses, so Stanley couldn t see his eyes. Stanley was not a bad kid. He was innocent of the crime for which he was convicted He d just been in the wrong place at the wrong time. It was all because of his no-good-dirty-rotten-pig-stealing-great-great-grandfather! He smiled. It was a family joke. Whenever anything went wrong, they always blamed Stanley s no-good-dirty-rotten-pig-stealing-great-great-grandfather. Supposedly, he had a great-great-grandfather who had stolen a pig from a one-legged Gypsy, and she put a curse on him and all his descendants. Stanley and his parents didn t believe in curses, of course, but whenever anything went wrong, it felt good to be able to blame someone Things went wrong a lot. They always seemed to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. 4 He looked out the window at the vast emptiness. He watched the rise and fall of a telephone wire. In his mind he could hear his father s gruff voice softly singing to him "If only, if only," the woodpecker sighs, "The bark on the tree was just a little bit softer." While the wolf waits below, hungry and lonely, He cries to the moo? oo? oon, "If only, if only." It was a song his father used to sing to him. The melody was sweet and sad, but Stanley s favorite part was when his father would howl the word "moon " The bus hit a small bump and the guard sat up, instantly alert. Stanley s father was an inventor. To be a successful inventor you need three things intelligence, perseverance, and just a little bit of luck. Stanley s father was smart and had a lot of perseverance. Once he started a project he would work on it for years, often going days without sleep. He just never had any luck. Every time an experiment failed, Stanley could hear him cursing his dirty-rotten-pig-stealing-great-grandfather. Stanley s father was also named Stanley Yelnats. Stanley s father s full name was Stanley Yelnats III. Our Stanley is Stanley Yelnats IV. Everyone in his family had always liked the fact that "Stanley Yelnats" was spelled the same frontward and backward. So they kept naming their sons Stanley. Stanley was an only child, as was every other Stanley Yelnats before him. All of them had something else in common. Despite their awful luck, they always remained hopeful. As Stanley s father liked to say, "I learn from failure." But perhaps that was part of the curse as well. If Stanley and his father weren t always hopeful, then it wouldn t hurt so much every time their hopes were crushed. "Not every Stanley Yelnats has been a failure," Stanley s mother often pointed out, whenever Stanley or his father became so discouraged that they actually started to believe in the curse. The first Stanley Yelnats, Stanley s great-grandfather, had made a fortune m the stock market. "He couldn t have been too unlucky." At such times she neglected to mention the bad luck that befell the first Stanley Yelnats. He lost his entire fortune when he was moving from New York to California. His stagecoach was robbed by the outlaw Kissin Kate Barlow. If it weren t for that, Stanley s family would now be living in a mansion on a beach in California. Instead, they were crammed in a tiny apartment that smelled of burning rubber and foot odor. If only, if only . . . The apartment smelled the way it did because Stanley s father was trying to invent a way to recycle old sneakers. "The first person who finds a use for old sneakers," he said, "will be a very rich man." It was this latest project that led to Stanley s arrest. The bus ride became increasingly bumpy because the road was no longer paved. 5 Actually, Stanley had been impressed when he first found out that his great-grandfather was robbed by Kissin Kate Barlow. True, he would have preferred living on the beach in California, but it was still kind of cool to have someone in your family robbed by a famous outlaw. Kate Barlow didn t actually kiss Stanley s great-grandfather. That would have been really cool, but she only kissed the men she killed. Instead, she robbed him and left him stranded in the middle of the desert. "He was lucky to have survived," Stanley s mother was quick to point out. The bus was slowing down. The guard grunted as he stretched his arms. "Welcome to Camp Green Lake," said the driver. Stanley looked out the dirty window. He couldn t see a lake. And hardly anything was green. 4 Stanley felt somewhat dazed as the guard unlocked his handcuffs and led him off the bus. He d been on the bus for over eight hours. "Be careful," the bus driver said as Stanley walked down the steps. Stanley wasn t sure if the bus driver meant for him to be careful going down the steps, or if he was telling him to be careful at Camp Green Lake. "Thanks for the ride," he said. His mouth was dry and his throat hurt. He stepped onto the hard, dry dirt. There was a band of sweat around his wrist where the handcuff had been. The land was barren and desolate. He could see a few rundown buildings and some tents. Farther away there was a cabin beneath two tall trees. Those two trees were the only plant life he could see. There weren t even weeds. The guard led Stanley to a small building. A sign on front said, YOU ARE ENTERING CAMP GREEN LAKE JUVENILE CORRECTIONAL FACILITY. Next to it was another sign which declared that it was a violation of the Texas Penal Code to bring guns, explosives, weapons, drugs, or alcohol onto the premises. As Stanley read the sign he couldn t help but think, Well, duh! The guard led Stanley into the building, where he felt the welcome relief of air-conditioning. A man was sitting with his feet up on a desk. He turned his head when Stanley and the guard entered, but otherwise didn t move. Even though he was inside, he wore sunglasses and a cowboy hat. He also held a can of soda, and the sight of it made Stanley even more aware of his own thirst. He waited while the bus guard gave the man some papers to sign. "That s a lot of sunflower seeds," the bus guard said Stanley noticed a burlap sack filled with sunflower seeds on the floor next to the desk. "I quit smoking last month," said the man in the cowboy hat. He had a tattoo of a rattlesnake on his arm, and as he signed his name, the snake s rattle seemed to wiggle "I used to smoke a pack a day. Now I eat a sack of these every week " 6 The guard laughed. There must have been a small refrigerator behind his desk, because the man in the cowboy hat produced two more cans of soda. For a second Stanley hoped that one might be for him, but the man gave one to the guard and said the other was for the driver. "Nine hours here, and now nine hours back," the guard grumbled. "What a day." Stanley thought about the long, miserable bus ride and felt a little sorry for the guard and the bus driver. The man in the cowboy hat spit sunflower seed shells into a wastepaper basket. Then he walked around the desk to Stanley. "My name is Mr. Sir," he said "Whenever you speak to me you must call me by my name, is that clear?" Stanley hesitated. "Uh, yes, Mr. Sir," he said, though he couldn t imagine that was really the man s name. "You re not in the Girl Scouts anymore," Mr. Sir said. Stanley had to remove his clothes in front of Mr. Sir, who made sure he wasn t hiding anything. He was then given two sets of clothes and a towel. Each set consisted of a long-sleeve orange jumpsuit, an orange T-shirt, and yellow socks. Stanley wasn t sure if the socks had been yellow originally. He was also given white sneakers, an orange cap, and a canteen made of heavy plastic, which unfortunately was empty. The cap had a piece of cloth sewn on the back of it, for neck protection. Stanley got dressed. The clothes smelled like soap. Mr. Sir told him he should wear one set to work in and one set for relaxation. Laundry was done every three days. On that day his work clothes would be washed. Then the other set would become his work clothes, and he would get clean clothes to wear while resting. "You are to dig one hole each day, including Saturdays and Sundays. Each hole must be five feet deep, and five feet across in every direction. Your shovel is your measuring stick. Breakfast is served at 4 30." Stanley must have looked surprised, because Mr. Sir went on to explain that they started early to avoid the hottest part of the day. "No one is going to baby-sit you," he added. "The longer it takes you to dig, the longer you will be out in the sun. If you dig up anything interesting, you are to report it to me or any other counselor. When you finish, the rest of the day is yours." Stanley nodded to show he understood. "This isn t a Girl Scout camp," said Mr. Sir. He checked Stanley s backpack and allowed him to keep it. Then he led Stanley outside into the blazing heat. "Take a good look around you," Mr. Sir said. "What do you see?" Stanley looked out across the vast wasteland. The air seemed thick with heat and dirt. "Not much," he said, then hastily added, "Mr. Sir." Mr. Sir laughed. "You see any guard towers?" "No." 7 "How about an electric fence?" "No, Mr. Sir." "There s no fence at all, is there?" "No, Mr. Sir." "You want to run away?" Mr. Sir asked him. Stanley looked back at him, unsure what he meant. "If you want to run away, go ahead, start running. I m not going to stop you." Stanley didn t know what kind of game Mr. Sir was playing. "I see you re looking at my gun. Don t worry. I m not going to shoot you." He tapped his holster. "This is for yellow-spotted lizards. I wouldn t waste a bullet on you." "I m not going to run away," Stanley said. "Good thinking," said Mr. Sir. "Nobody runs away from here. We don t need a fence. Know why? Because we ve got the only water for a hundred miles. You want to run away? You ll be buzzard food in three days." Stanley could see some kids dressed in orange and carrying shovels dragging themselves toward the tents. "You thirsty?" asked Mr. Sir. "Yes, Mr. Sir," Stanley said gratefully. "Well, you better get used to it. You re going to be thirsty for the next eighteen months." 5 There were six large gray tents, and each one had a black letter on it A, B, C, D, E, or F. The first five tents were for the campers. The counselors slept in F. Stanley was assigned to D tent. Mr. Pendanski was his counselor. "My name is easy to remember," said Mr. Pendanski as he shook hands with Stanley just outside the tent. "Three easy words pen, dance, key." Mr. Sir returned to the office. Mr. Pendanski was younger than Mr. Sir, and not nearly as scary looking. The top of his head was shaved so close it was almost bald, but his face was covered in a thick curly black beard. His nose was badly sunburned. "Mr. Sir isn t really so bad," said Mr. Pendanski. "He s just been in a bad mood ever since he quit smoking. The person you ve got to worry about is the Warden. There s really only one rule at Camp Green Lake Don t upset the Warden." Stanley nodded, as if he understood. "I want you to know, Stanley, that I respect you," Mr. Pendanski said. "I understand you ve made some bad mistakes in your life. Otherwise you wouldn t be here. But everyone makes mistakes. You may have done some bad things, but that doesn t mean you re a bad kid." Stanley nodded. It seemed pointless to try and tell his counselor that he was innocent. He figured that everyone probably said that. He didn t want Mr. Pen-dance-key to think he had a bad attitude. 8 "I m going to help you turn your life around," said his counselor. "But you re going to have to help, too. Can I count on your help?" "Yes, sir," Stanley said. Mr. Pendanski said, "Good," and patted Stanley on the back. Two boys, each carrying a shovel, were coming across the compound. Mr. Pendanski called to them. "Rex! Alan! I want you to come say hello to Stanley. He s the newest member of our team." The boys glanced wearily at Stanley. They were dripping with sweat, and their faces were so dirty that it took Stanley a moment to notice that one kid was white and the other black. "What happened to Barf Bag?" asked the black kid. "Lewis is still in the hospital," said Mr. Pendanski. "He won t be returning." He told the boys to come shake Stanley s hand and introduce themselves, "like gentlemen." "Hi," the white kid grunted. "That s Alan," said Mr. Pendanski. "My name s not Alan," the boy said. "It s Squid. And that s X-Ray." "Hey," said X-Ray. He smiled and shook Stanley s hand. He wore glasses, but they were so dirty that Stanley wondered how he could see out of them. Mr. Pendanski told Alan to go to the Rec Hall and bring the other boys to meet Stanley. Then he led him inside the tent. There were seven cots, each one less than two feet from the one next to it. "Which was Lewis s cot?" Mr. Pendanski asked. "Barf Bag slept here," said X-Ray, kicking at one of the beds. "All right, Stanley, that ll be yours," said Mr. Pendanski. Stanley looked at the cot and nodded. He wasn t particularly thrilled about sleeping in the same cot that had been used by somebody named Barf Bag. Seven crates were stacked in two piles at one side of the tent. The open end of the crates faced outward. Stanley put his backpack, change of clothes, and towel in what used to be Barf Bag s crate. It was at the bottom of the stack that had three in it. Squid returned with four other boys. The first three were introduced by Mr. Pendanski as Jose, Theodore, and Ricky. They called themselves Magnet, Armpit, and Zigzag. "They all have nicknames," explained Mr. Pendanski. "However, I prefer to use the names their parents gave them? the names that society will recognize them by when they return to become useful and hardworking members of society." "It ain t just a nickname," X-Ray told Mr. Pendanski. He tapped the rim of his glasses. "I can see inside you, Mom. You ve got a big fat heart." The last boy either didn t have a real name or else he didn t have a nickname. Both Mr. Pendanski and X-Ray called him Zero. "You know why his name s Zero?" asked Mr. Pendanski. "Because there s nothing inside his head." He smiled and playfully shook Zero s shoulder. Zero said nothing. "And that s Mom!" a boy said. 9 Mr. Pendanski smiled at him. "If it makes you feel better to call me Mom, Theodore, go ahead and call me Mom." He turned to Stanley. "If you have questions, Theodore will help you. You got that, Theodore. I m depending on you." Theodore spit a thin line of saliva between his teeth, causing some of the other boys to complain about the need to keep their "home" sanitary. "You were all new here once," said Mr. Pendanski, "and you all know what it feels like. I m counting on every one of you to help Stanley." Stanley looked at the ground. Mr. Pendanski left the tent, and soon the other boys began to file out as well, taking their towels and change of clothes with them. Stanley was relieved to be left alone, but he was so thirsty he felt as if he would die if he didn t get something to drink soon. "Hey, uh, Theodore," he said, going after him. "Do you know where I can fill my canteen?" Theodore whirled and grabbed Stanley by his collar. "My name s not Thee-o-dore," he said. "It s Armpit." He threw Stanley to the ground. Stanley stared up at him, terrified. "There s a water spigot on the wall of the shower stall." "Thanks . . . Armpit," said Stanley. As he watched the boy turn and walk away, he couldn t for the life of him figure out why anyone would want to be called Armpit. In a way, it made him feel a little better about having to sleep in a cot that had been used by somebody named Barf Bag. Maybe it was a term of respect. 6 Stanley took a shower? if you could call it that, ate dinner? if you could call it that, and went to bed? if you could call his smelly and scratchy cot a bed. Because of the scarcity of water, each camper was only allowed a four-minute shower. It took Stanley nearly that long to get used to the cold water. There was no knob for hot water. He kept stepping into, then jumping back from, the spray, until the water shut off automatically. He never managed to use his bar of soap, which was just as well, because he wouldn t have had time to rinse off the suds. Dinner was some kind of stewed meat and vegetables. The meat was brown and the vegetables had once been green. Everything tasted pretty much the same. He ate it all, and used his slice of white bread to mop up the juice. Stanley had never been one to leave food on his plate, no matter how it tasted. "What d you do?" one of the campers asked him. At first Stanley didn t know what he meant. "They sent you here for a reason." "Oh," he realized. "I stole a pair of sneakers." The other boys thought that was funny. Stanley wasn t sure why. Maybe because their crimes were a lot worse than stealing shoes. "From a store, or-were they on someone s feet?" asked Squid. 10 "Uh, neither," Stanley answered. "They belonged to Clyde Livingston." Nobody believed him. "Sweet Feet?" said X-Ray. "Yeah, right!" "No way," said Squid. Now, as Stanley lay on his cot, he thought it was kind of funny in a way. Nobody had believed him when he said he was innocent. Now, when he said he stole them, nobody believed him either. Clyde "Sweet Feet" Livingston was a famous baseball player. He d led the American League in stolen bases over the last three years. He was also the only player in history to ever hit four triples in one game. Stanley had a poster of him hanging on the wall of his bedroom. He used to have the poster anyway. He didn t know where it was now. It had been taken by the police and was used as evidence of his guilt in the courtroom. Clyde Livingston also came to court. In spite of everything, when Stanley found out that Sweet Feet was going to be there, he was actually excited about the prospect of meeting his hero. Clyde Livingston testified that they were his sneakers and that he had donated them to help raise money for the homeless shelter. He said he couldn t imagine what kind of horrible person would steal from homeless children. That was the worst part for Stanley. His hero thought he was a no-good-dirty-rotten thief. As Stanley tried to turn over on his cot, he was afraid it was going to collapse under all his weight. He barely fit in it. When he finally managed to roll over on his stomach, the smell was so bad that he had to turn over again and try sleeping on his back. The cot smelled like sour milk. Though it was night, the air was still very warm. Armpit was snoring two cots away. Back at school, a bully named Derrick Dunne used to torment Stanley. The teachers never took Stanley s complaints seriously, because Derrick was so much smaller than Stanley. Some teachers even seemed to find it amusing that a little kid like Derrick could pick on someone as big as Stanley. On the day Stanley was arrested, Derrick had taken Stanley s notebook and, after a long game of come-and-get-it, finally dropped it in the toilet in the boys restroom. By the time Stanley retrieved it, he had missed his bus and had to walk home. It was while he was walking home, carrying his wet notebook, with the prospect of having to copy the ruined pages, that the sneakers fell from the sky. "I was walking home and the sneakers fell from the sky," he had told the judge. "One hit me on the head." It had hurt, too. They hadn t exactly fallen from the sky. He had just walked out from under a freeway overpass when the shoe hit him on the head. 11 Stanley took it as some kind of sign. His father had been trying to figure out a way to recycle old sneakers, and suddenly a pair of sneakers fell on top of him, seemingly out of nowhere, like a gift from God. Naturally, he had no way of knowing they belonged to Clyde Livingston. In fact, the shoes were anything but sweet. Whoever had worn them had had a bad case of foot odor. Stanley couldn t help but think that there was something special about the shoes, that they would somehow provide the key to his father s invention. It was too much of a coincidence to be a mere accident. Stanley had felt like he was holding destiny s shoes. He ran. Thinking back now, he wasn t sure why he ran. Maybe he was in a hurry to bring the shoes to his father, or maybe he was trying to run away from his miserable and humiliating day at school. A patrol car pulled alongside him. A policeman asked him why he was running. Then he took the shoes and made a call on his radio. Shortly thereafter, Stanley was arrested. It turned out the sneakers had been stolen from a display at the homeless shelter. That evening rich people were going to come to the shelter and pay a hundred dollars to eat the food that the poor people ate every day for free. Clyde Livingston, who had once lived at the shelter when he was younger, was going to speak and sign autographs. His shoes would be auctioned, and it was expected that they would sell for over five thousand dollars. All the money would go to help the homeless. Because of the baseball schedule, Stanley s trial was delayed several months. His parents couldn t afford a lawyer. "You don t need a lawyer," his mother had said. "Just tell the truth." Stanley told the truth, but perhaps it would have been better if he had lied a little. He could have said he found the shoes in the street. No one believed they fell from the sky. It wasn t destiny, he realized. It was his no-good-dirty-rotten-pig-stealing-great-great-grandfather! The judge called Stanley s crime despicable. "The shoes were valued at over five thousand dollars. It was money that would provide food and shelter for the homeless. And you stole that from them, just so you could have a souvenir." The judge said that there was an opening at Camp Green Lake, and he suggested that the discipline of the camp might improve Stanley s character. It was either that or jail. Stanley s parents asked if they could have some time to find out more about Camp Green Lake, but the judge advised them to make a quick decision. "Vacancies don t last long at Camp Green Lake." 7 The shovel felt heavy in Stanley s soft, fleshy hands. He tried to jam it into the earth, but the blade banged against the ground and bounced off without making a dent. The vibrations ran up the shaft of the shovel and into Stanley s wrists, making his bones rattle. 12 It was still dark. The only light came from the moon and the stars, more stars than Stanley had ever seen before. It seemed he had only just gotten to sleep when Mr. Pendanski came in and woke everyone up. Using all his might, he brought the shovel back down onto the dry lake bed. The force stung his hands but made no impression on the earth. He wondered if he had a defective shovel. He glanced at Zero, about fifteen feet away, who scooped out a shovelful of dirt and dumped it on a pile that was already almost a foot tall. For breakfast they d been served some kind of lukewarm cereal. The best part was the orange juice. They each got a pint carton. The cereal actually didn t taste too bad, but it had smelled just like his cot. Then they filled their canteens, got their shovels, and were marched out across the lake. Each group was assigned a different area. The shovels were kept in a shed near the showers. They all looked the same to Stanley, although X-Ray had his own special shovel, which no one else was allowed to use. X-Ray claimed it was shorter than the others, but if it was, it was only by a fraction of an inch. The shovels were five feet long, from the tip of the steel blade to the end of the wooden shaft. Stanley s hole would have to be as deep as his shovel, and he d have to be able to lay the shovel flat across the bottom in any direction. That was why X-Ray wanted the shortest shovel. The lake was so full of holes and mounds that it reminded Stanley of pictures he d seen of the moon. "If you find anything interesting or unusual," Mr. Pendanski had told him, "you should report it either to me or Mr. Sir when we come around with the water truck. If the Warden likes what you found, you ll get the rest of the day off." "What are we supposed to be looking for?" Stanley asked him. "You re not looking for anything. You re digging to build character. It s just if you find anything, the Warden would like to know about it." He glanced helplessly at his shovel. It wasn t defective. He was defective. He noticed a thin crack in the ground. He placed the point of his shovel on top of it, then jumped on the back of the blade with both feet. The shovel sank a few inches into the packed earth. He smiled. For once in his life it paid to be overweight. He leaned on the shaft and pried up his first shovelful of dirt, then dumped it off to the side. Only ten million more to go, he thought, then placed the shovel back in the crack and jumped on it again. He unearthed several shovelfuls of dirt in this manner, before it occurred to him that he was dumping his dirt within the perimeter of his hole. He laid his shovel flat on the ground and marked where the edges of his hole would be. Five feet was awfully wide. He moved the dirt he d already dug up out past his mark. He took a drink from his canteen. Five feet would be awfully deep, too. The digging got easier after a while. The ground was hardest at the surface, where the sun had baked a crust about eight inches deep. Beneath that, the earth was looser. 13 But by the time Stanley broke past the crust, a blister had formed in the middle of his right thumb, and it hurt to hold the shovel. Stanley s great-great-grandfather was named Elya Yelnats. He was born in Latvia. When he was fifteen years old he fell in love with Myra Menke. (He didn t know he was Stanley s great-great-grandfather.) Myra Menke was fourteen. She would turn fifteen in two months, at which time her father had decided she should be married. Elya went to her father to ask for her hand, but so did Igor Barkov, the pig farmer. Igor was fifty-seven years old. He had a red nose and fat puffy cheeks. "I will trade you my fattest pig for your daughter," Igor offered. "And what have you got?" Myra s father asked Elya. "A heart full of love," said Elya. "I d rather have a fat pig," said Myra s father. Desperate, Elya went to see Madame Zeroni, an old Egyptian woman who lived on the edge of town. He had become friends with her, though she was quite a bit older than him. She was even older than Igor Barkov. The other boys of his village liked to mud wrestle. Elya preferred visiting Madame Zeroni and listening to her many stories. Madame Zeroni had dark skin and a very wide mouth. When she looked at you, her eyes seemed to expand, and you felt like she was looking right through you. "Elya, what s wrong?" she asked, before he even told her he was upset. She was sitting in a homemade wheelchair. She had no left foot. Her leg stopped at her ankle. "I m in love with Myra Menke," Elya confessed. "But Igor Barkov has offered to trade his fattest pig for her. I can t compete with that." "Good," said Madame Zeroni. "You re too young to get married. You ve got your whole life ahead of you." "But I love Myra." "Myra s head is as empty as a flowerpot." "But she s beautiful." "So is a flowerpot. Can she push a plow? Can she milk a goat? No, she is too delicate. Can she have an intelligent conversation? No, she is silly and foolish. Will she take care of you when you are sick? No, she is spoiled and will only want you to take care of her. So, she is beautiful. So what? Ptuui!" Madame Zeroni spat on the dirt. She told Elya that he should go to America. "Like my son. That s where your future lies. Not with Myra Menke." But Elya would hear none of that. He was fifteen, and all he could see was Myra s shallow beauty. Madame Zeroni hated to see Elya so forlorn. Against her better judgment, she agreed to help him. "It just so happens, my sow gave birth to a litter of piglets yesterday," she said. "There is one little runt whom she won t suckle. You may have him. He would die anyway." 14 Madame Zeroni led Elya around the back of her house where she kept her pigs. Elya took the tiny piglet, but he didn t see what good it would do him. It wasn t much bigger than a rat. "He ll grow," Madame Zeroni assured him. "Do you see that mountain on the edge of the forest?" "Yes," said Elya. "On the top of the mountain there is a stream where the water runs uphill. You must carry the piglet every day to the top of the mountain and let it drink from the stream. As it drinks, you are to sing to him." She taught Elya a special song to sing to the pig. "On the day of Myra s fifteenth birthday, you should carry the pig up the mountain for the last time. Then take it directly to Myra s father. It will be fatter than any of Igor s pigs." "If it is that big and fat," asked Elya, "how will I be able to carry it up the mountain?" "The piglet is not too heavy for you now, is it?" asked Madame Zeroni. "Of course not," said Elya. "Do you think it will be too heavy for you tomorrow?" "No." "Every day you will carry the pig up the mountain. It will get a little bigger, but you will get a little stronger. After you give the pig to Myra s father, I want you to do one more thing for me." "Anything," said Elya. "I want you to carry me up the mountain. I want to drink from the stream, and I want you to sing the song to me." Elya promised he would. Madame Zeroni warned that if he failed to do this, he and his descendants would be doomed for all of eternity. At the time, Elya thought nothing of the curse. He was just a fifteen-year-old kid, and "eternity" didn t seem much longer than a week from Tuesday. Besides, he liked Madame Zeroni and would be glad to carry her up the mountain. He would have done it right then and there, but he wasn t yet strong enough. Stanley was still digging. His hole was about three feet deep, but only in the center. It sloped upward to the edges. The sun had only just come up over the horizon, but he already could feel its hot rays against his face. As he reached down to pick up his canteen, he felt a sudden rush of dizziness and put his hands on his knees to steady himself. For a moment he was afraid he would throw up, but the moment passed. He drank the last drop of water from his canteen. He had blisters on every one of his fingers, and one in the center of each palm. Everyone else s hole was a lot deeper than his. He couldn t actually see their holes but could tell by the size of their dirt piles. 15 He saw a cloud of dust moving across the wasteland and noticed that the other boys had stopped digging and were watching it, too. The dirt cloud moved closer, and he could see that it trailed behind a red pickup truck. The truck stopped near where they were digging, and the boys lined up behind it, X-Ray in front, Zero at the rear. Stanley got in line behind Zero. Mr. Sir filled each of their canteens from a tank of water in the bed of the pickup. As he took Stanley s canteen from him, he said, "This isn t the Girl Scouts, is it?" Stanley raised and lowered one shoulder. Mr. Sir followed Stanley back to his hole to see how he was doing. "You better get with it," he said. "Or else you re going to be digging in the hottest part of the day." He popped some sunflower seeds into his mouth, deftly removed the shells with his teeth, and spat them into Stanley s hole. Every day Elya carried the little piglet up the mountain and sang to it as it drank from the stream. As the pig grew fatter, Elya grew stronger. On the day of Myra s fifteenth birthday, Elya s pig weighed over fifty stones. Madame Zeroni had told him to carry the pig up the mountain on that day as well, but Elya didn t want to present himself to Myra smelling like a pig. Instead, he took a bath. It was his second bath in less than a week. Then he led the pig to Myra s. Igor Barkov was there with his pig as well. "These are two of the finest pigs I ve ever seen," Myra s father declared. He was also impressed with Elya, who seemed to have grown bigger and stronger in the last two months. "I used to think you were a good-for-nothing book reader," he said. "But I see now you could be an excellent mud wrestler." "May I marry your daughter?" Elya boldly asked. "First, I must weigh the pigs." Alas, poor Elya should have carried his pig up the mountain one last time. The two pigs weighed exactly the same. Stanley s blisters had ripped open, and new blisters formed. He kept changing his grip on the shovel to try to avoid the pain. Finally, he removed his cap and held it between the shaft of his shovel and his raw hands. This helped, but digging was harder because the cap would slip and slide. The sun beat down on his unprotected head and neck. Though he tried to convince himself otherwise, he d been aware for a while that his piles of dirt were too close to his hole. The piles were outside his five-foot circle, but he could see he was going to run out of room. Still, he pretended otherwise and kept adding more dirt to the piles, piles that he would eventually have to move. The problem was that when the dirt was in the ground, it was compacted. It expanded when it was excavated. The piles were a lot bigger than his hole was deep. It was either now or later. Reluctantly, he climbed up out of his hole, and once again dug his shovel into his previously dug dirt. 16 Myra s father got down on his hands and knees and closely examined each pig, tail to snout. "Those are two of the finest pigs I have ever seen," he said at last. "How am I to decide? I have only one daughter." "Why not let Myra decide?" suggested Elya. "That s preposterous!" exclaimed Igor, expelling saliva as he spoke. "Myra is just an empty-headed girl," said her father. "How can she possibly decide, when I, her father, can t?" "She knows how she feels in her heart," said Elya. Myra s father rubbed his chin. Then he laughed and said, "Why not?" He slapped Elya on the back. "It doesn t matter to me. A pig is a pig." He summoned his daughter. Elya blushed when Myra entered the room. "Good afternoon, Myra," he said. She looked at him. "You re Elya, right?" she asked. "Myra," said her father. "Elya and Igor have each offered a pig for your hand in marriage. It doesn t matter to me. A pig is a pig. So I will let you make the choice. Whom do you wish to marry?" Myra looked confused. "You want me to decide?" "That s right, my blossom," said her father. "Gee, I don t know," said Myra. "Which pig weighs more?" "They both weigh the same," said her father. "Golly," said Myra, "I guess I choose Elya? No, Igor. No, Elya. No, Igor. Oh, I know! I ll think of a number between one and ten. I ll marry whoever guesses the closest number. Okay, I m ready." "Ten," guessed Igor. Elya said nothing. "Elya?" said Myra. "What number do you guess?" Elya didn t pick a number. "Marry Igor," he muttered. "You can keep my pig as a wedding present." The next time the water truck came it was driven by Mr. Pendanski, who also brought sack lunches. Stanley sat with his back against a pile of dirt and ate. He had a baloney sandwich, potato chips, and a large chocolate-chip cookie. "How you doin ?" asked Magnet. "Not real good," said Stanley. "Well, the first hole s the hardest," Magnet said. Stanley took a long, deep breath. He couldn t afford to dawdle. He was way behind the others, and the sun just kept getting hotter. It wasn t even noon yet. But he didn t know if he had the strength to stand up. He thought about quitting. He wondered what they would do to him. What could they do to him? His clothes were soaked with sweat. In school he had learned that sweating was good for you. It was nature s way of keeping you cool. So why was he so hot? Using his shovel for support, he managed to get to his feet. 17 "Where are we supposed to go to the bathroom?" he asked Magnet. Magnet gestured with his arms to the great expanse around them. "Pick a hole, any hole," he said. Stanley staggered across the lake, almost falling over a dirt pile. Behind him he heard Magnet say, "But first make sure nothing s living in it." After leaving Myra s house, Elya wandered aimlessly through the town, until he found himself down by the wharf. He sat on the edge of a pier and stared down into the cold, black water. He could not understand how Myra had trouble deciding between him and Igor. He thought she loved him. Even if she didn t love him, couldn t she see what a foul person Igor was? It was like Madame Zeroni had said. Her head was as empty as a flowerpot. Some men were gathering on another dock, and he went to see what was going on. A sign read DECK HANDS WANTED FREE PASSAGE TO AMERICA He had no sailing experience, but the ship s captain signed him aboard. The captain could see that Elya was a ma n of great strength. Not everybody could carry a full-grown pig up the side of a mountain. It wasn t until the ship had cleared the harbor and was heading out across the Atlantic that he suddenly remembered his promise to carry Madame Zeroni up the mountain. He felt terrible. He wasn t afraid of the curse. He thought that was a lot of nonsense. He felt bad because he knew Madame Zeroni had wanted to drink from the stream before she died. Zero was the smallest kid in Group D, but he was the first one to finish digging. "You re finished?" Stanley asked enviously. Zero said nothing. Stanley walked to Zero s hole and watched him measure it with his shovel. The top of his hole was a perfect circle, and the sides were smooth and steep. Not one dirt clod more than necessary had been removed from the earth. Zero pulled himself up to the surface. He didn t even smile. He looked down at his perfectly dug hole, spat in it, then turned and headed back to the camp compound. "Zero s one weird dude," said Zigzag. Stanley would have laughed, but he didn t have the strength. Zigzag had to be the "weirdest dude" Stanley had ever seen. He had a long skinny neck, and a big round head with wild frizzy blond hair that stuck out in all directions. His head seemed to bob up and down on his neck, like it was on a spring. Armpit was the second one to finish digging. He also spat into his hole before heading back to the camp compound. One by one, Stanley watched each of the boys spit into his hole and return to the camp compound. 18 Stanley kept digging. His hole was almost up to his shoulders, although it was hard to tell exactly where ground level was because his dirt piles completely surrounded the hole. The deeper he got, the harder it was to raise the dirt up and out of the hole. Once again, he realized, he was going to have to move the piles. His cap was stained with blood from his hands. He felt like he was digging his own grave. In America, Elya learned to speak English. He fell in love with a woman named Sarah Miller. She could push a plow, milk a goat, and, most important, think for herself. She and Elya often stayed up half the night talking and laughing together. Their life was not easy. Elya worked hard, but bad luck seemed to follow him everywhere. He always seemed to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. He remembered Madame Zeroni telling him that she had a son in America. Elya was forever looking for him. He d walk up to complete strangers and ask if they knew someone named Zeroni, or had ever heard of anyone named Zeroni. No one did. Elya wasn t sure what he d do if he ever found Madame Zeroni s son anyway. Carry him up a mountain and sing the pig lullaby to him? After his barn was struck by lightning for the third time, he told Sarah about his broken promise to Madame Zeroni. "I m worse than a pig thief," he said. "You should leave me and find someone who isn t cursed." "I m not leaving you," said Sarah. "But I want you to do one thing for me." "Anything," said Elya. Sarah smiled. "Sing me the pig lullaby." He sang it for her. Her eyes sparkled. "That s so pretty. What does it mean?" Elya tried his best to translate it from Latvian into English, but it wasn t the same. "It rhymes in Latvian," he told her. "I could tell," said Sarah. A year later their child was born. Sarah named him Stanley because she noticed that "Stanley" was "Yelnats" spelled backward. Sarah changed the words of the pig lullaby so that they rhymed, and every night she sang it to little Stanley. "If only, if only," the woodpecker sighs, "The bark on the tree was as soft as the skies." While the wolf waits below, hungry and lonely, Crying to the moo? oo? oon, "If only, if only." Stanley s hole was as deep as his shovel, but not quite wide enough on the bottom. He grimaced as he sliced off a chunk of dirt, then raised it up and flung it onto a pile. He laid his shovel back down on the bottom of his hole and, to his surprise, it fit. He rotated it and only had to chip off a few chunks of dirt, here and there, before it could lie flat across his hole in every direction. 19 He heard the water truck approaching, and felt a strange sense of pride at being able to show Mr. Sir, or Mr. Pendanski, that he had dug his first hole. He put his hands on the rim and tried to pull himself up. He couldn t do it. His arms were too weak to lift his heavy body. He used his legs to help, but he just didn t have any strength. He was trapped in his hole. It was almost funny, but he wasn t in the mood to laugh. "Stanley!" he heard Mr. Pendanski call. Using his shovel, he dug two footholds in the hole wall. He climbed out to see Mr. Pendanski walking over to him. "I was afraid you d fainted," Mr. Pendanski said. "You wouldn t have been the first." "I m finished," Stanley said, putting his blood-spotted cap back on his head. "All right!" said Mr. Pendanski, raising his hand for a high five, but Stanley ignored it. He didn t have the strength. Mr. Pendanski lowered his hand and looked down at Stanley s hole. "Well done," he said. "You want a ride back?" Stanley shook his head. "I ll walk." Mr. Pendanski climbed back into the truck without filling Stanley s canteen. Stanley waited for him to drive away, then took another look at his hole. He knew it was nothing to be proud of, but he felt proud nonetheless. He sucked up his last bit of saliva and spat. 8 A lot of people don t believe in curses. A lot of people don t believe in yellow-spotted lizards either, but if one bites you, it doesn t make a difference whether you believe in it or not. Actually, it is kind of odd that scientists named the lizard after its yellow spots. Each lizard has exactly eleven yellow spots, but the spots are hard to see on its yellow-green body. The lizard is from six to ten inches long and has big red eyes. In truth, its eyes are yellow, and it is the skin around the eyes which is red, but everyone always speaks of its red eyes. It also has black teeth and a milky white tongue. Looking at one, you would have thought that it should have been named a "red-eyed" lizard, or a "black-toothed" lizard, or perhaps a "white-tongued" lizard. If you ve ever been close enough to see the yellow spots, you are probably dead. The yellow-spotted lizards like to live in holes, which offer shade from the sun and protection from predatory birds. Up to twenty lizards may live in one hole. They have strong, powerful legs, and can leap out of very deep holes to attack their prey. They eat small animals, insects, certain cactus thorns, and the shells of sunflower seeds. 9 20 Stanley stood in the shower and let the cold water pour over his hot and sore body. It was four minutes of heaven. For the second day in a row he didn t use soap. He was too tired. There was no roof over the shower building, and the walls were raised up six inches off the ground except in the corners. There was no drain in the floor. The water ran out under the walls and evaporated quickly in the sun. He put on his clean set of orange clothes. He returned to his tent, put his duty clothes in his crate, got out his pen and box of stationery, and headed to the rec room. A sign on the door said WRECK ROOM. Nearly everything in the room was broken; the TV, the pinball machine, the furniture. Even the people looked broken, with their worn-out bodies sprawled over the various chairs and sofas. X-Ray and Armpit were playing pool. The surface of the table reminded Stanley of the surface of the lake. It was full of bumps and holes because so many people had carved their initials into the felt. There was a hole in the far wall, and an electric fan had been placed in front of it. Cheap air-conditioning. At least the fan worked. As Stanley made his way across the room, he tripped over an outstretched leg. "Hey, watch it!" said an orange lump on a chair. "You watch it," muttered Stanley, too tired to care. "What d you say?" the Lump demanded. "Nothin ," said Stanley. The Lump rose. He was almost as big as Stanley and a lot tougher. "You said something." He poked his fat finger in Stanley s neck. "What d you say?" A crowd quickly formed around them. "Be cool," said X-Ray. He put his hand on Stanley s shoulder. "You don t want to mess with the Caveman," he warned. "The Caveman s cool," said Armpit. "I m not looking for trouble," Stanley said. "I m just tired, that s all." The Lump grunted. X-Ray and Armpit led Stanley over to a couch. Squid slid over to make room as Stanley sat down. "Did you see the Caveman back there?" X-Ray asked. "The Caveman s one tough dude," said Squid, and he lightly punched Stanley s arm. Stanley leaned back against the torn vinyl upholstery. Despite his shower, his body still radiated heat. "I wasn t trying to start anything," he said. The last thing he wanted to do after killing himself all day on the lake was to get in a fight with a boy called the Caveman. He was glad X-Ray and Armpit had come to his rescue. "Well, how d you like your first hole?" asked Squid. Stanley groaned, and the other boys laughed. "Well, the first hole s the hardest," said Stanley. 21 "No way," said X-Ray. "The second hole s a lot harder. You re hurting before you even get started. If you think you re sore now, just wait and see how you feel tomorrow morning, right?" "That s right," said Squid. "Plus, the fun s gone," said X-Ray. "The fun?" asked Stanley. "Don t lie to me," said X-Ray. "I bet you always wanted to dig a big hole, right? Am I right?" Stanley had never really thought about it before, but he knew better than to tell X-Ray he wasn t right. "Every kid in the world wants to dig a great big hole," said X-Ray. "To China, right?" "Right," said Stanley. "See what I mean," said X-Ray. "That s what I m saying. But now the fun s gone. And you still got to do it again, and again, and again." "Camp Fun and Games," said Stanley. "What s in the box?" asked Squid. Stanley had forgotten he had brought it. "Uh, paper. I was going to write a letter to my mother." "Your mother?" laughed Squid. "She ll worry if I don t." Squid scowled. Stanley looked around the room. This was the one place in camp where the boys could enjoy themselves, and what d they do? They wrecked it. The glass on the TV was smashed, as if someone had put his foot through it. Every table and chair seemed to be missing at least one leg. Everything leaned. He waited to write the letter until after Squid had gotten up and joined the game of pool. Dear Mom, Today was my first day at camp, and I ve already made some friends. We ve been out on the lake all day, so I m pretty tired. Once I pass the swimming test, I ll get to learn how to water-ski. I He stopped writing as he became aware that somebody was reading over his shoulder. He turned to see Zero, standing behind the couch. "I don t want her to worry about me," he explained. Zero said nothing. He just stared at the letter with a serious, almost angry look on his face. Stanley slipped it back into the stationery box. "Did the shoes have red X s on the back?" Zero asked him. It took Stanley a moment, but then he realized Zero was asking about Clyde Livingston s shoes. 22 "Yes, they did," he said. He wondered how Zero knew that. Brand X was a popular brand of sneakers. Maybe Clyde Livingston made a commercial for them. Zero stared at him for a moment, with the same intensity with which he had been staring at the letter. Stanley poked his finger through a hole in the vinyl couch and pulled out some of the stuffing. He wasn t aware of what he was doing. "C mon, Caveman, dinner," said Armpit. "You coming, Caveman?" said Squid. Stanley looked around to see that Armpit and Squid were talking to him. "Uh, sure," he said. He put the piece of stationery back in the box, then got up and followed the boys out to the tables. The Lump wasn t the Caveman. He was. He shrugged his left shoulder. It was better than Barf Bag. 10 Stanley had no trouble falling asleep, but morning came much too quickly. Every muscle and joint in his body ached as he tried to get out of bed. He didn t think it was possible but his body hurt more than it had the day before. It wasn t just his arms and back, but his legs, ankles, and waist also hurt. The only thing that got him out of bed was knowing that every second he wasted meant he was one second closer to the rising of the sun. He hated the sun. He could hardly lift his spoon during breakfast, and then he was out on the lake, his spoon replaced by a shovel. He found a crack in the ground, and began his second hole. He stepped on the shovel blade, and pushed on the very back of the shaft with the base of his thumb. This hurt less than trying to hold the shaft with his blistered fingers. As he dug, he was careful to dump the dirt far away from the hole. He needed to save the area around the hole for when his hole was much deeper. He didn t know if he d ever get that far. X-Ray was right. The second hole was the hardest. It would take a miracle. As long as the sun wasn t out yet, he removed his cap and used it to help protect his hands. Once the sun rose, he would have to put it back on his head. His neck and forehead had been badly burned the day before. He took it one shovelful at a time, and tried not to think of the awesome task that lay ahead of him. After an hour or so, his sore muscles seemed to loosen up a little bit. He grunted as he tried to stick his shovel into the dirt. His cap slipped out from under his fingers, and the shovel fell free. He let it lie there. He took a drink from his canteen. He guessed that the water truck should be coming soon, but he didn t finish all the water, just in case he was wrong. He d learned to wait until he saw the truck, before drinking the last drop. The sun wasn t yet up, but its rays arced over the horizon and brought light to the sky. 23 He reached down to pick up his cap, and there next to it he saw a wide flat rock. As he put his cap on his head, he continued to look down at the rock. He picked it up. He thought he could see the shape of a fish, fossilized in it. He rubbed off some dirt, and the outline of the fish became clearer. The sun peeked over the horizon, and he could actually see tiny lines where every one of the fish s bones had been. He looked at the barren land all around him. True, everyone referred to this area as "the lake," but it was still hard to believe that this dry wasteland was once full of water. Then he remembered what Mr. Sir and Mr. Pendanski had both said. If he dug up anything interesting, he should report it to one of them. If the Warden liked it, he would get the rest of the day off. He looked back down at his fish. He d found his miracle. He continued to dig, though very slowly, as he waited for the water truck. He didn t want to bring attention to his find, afraid that one of the other boys might try to take it from him. He tossed the rock, face down, beside his dirt pile, as if it had no special value. A short while later he saw the cloud of dirt heading across the lake. The truck stopped and the boys lined up. They always lined up in the same order, Stanley realized, no matter who got there first. X-Ray was always at the front of the line. Then came Armpit, Squid, Zigzag, Magnet, and Zero. Stanley got in line behind Zero. He was glad to be at the back, so no one would notice the fossil. His pants had very large pockets, but the rock still made a bulge. Mr. Pendanski filled each boy s canteen, until Stanley was the only one left. "I found something," Stanley said, taking it out of his pocket. Mr. Pendanski reached for Stanley s canteen, but Stanley handed him the rock instead. "What s this?" "It s a fossil," said Stanley. "See the fish?" Mr. Pendanski looked at it again. "See, you can even see all of its little bones," said Stanley. "Interesting," said Mr. Pendanski. "Let me have your canteen." Stanley handed it to him. Mr. Pendanski filled it, then returned it. "So do I get the rest of the day off?" "What for?" "You know, you said if I found something interesting, the Warden would give me the day off." Mr. Pendanski laughed as he gave the fossil back to Stanley. "Sorry, Stanley. The Warden isn t interested in fossils." "Let me see that," said Magnet, taking the rock from Stanley. Stanley continued to stare at Mr. Pendanski. "Hey, Zig, dig this rock." "Cool," said Zigzag. Stanley saw his fossil being passed around. 24 "I don t see nothing," said X-Ray. He took off his glasses, wiped them on his dirty clothes, and put them back on. "See, look at the little fishy," said Armpit. 11 Stanley returned to his hole. It wasn t fair. Mr. Pendanski had even said his fossil was interesting. He slammed his shovel into the ground and pried up another piece of earth. After a while, he noticed X-Ray had come by and was watching him dig. "Hey, Caveman, let me talk to you a second," X-Ray said. Stanley put down his shovel and stepped up out of his hole. "Say, listen," said X-Ray. "If you find something else, give it to me, okay?" Stanley wasn t sure what to say. X-Ray was clearly the leader of the group, and Stanley didn t want to get on his bad side. "You re new here, right?" said X-Ray. "I ve been here for almost a year. I ve never found anything. You know, my eyesight s not so good. No one knows this, but you know why my name s X-Ray?" Stanley shrugged one shoulder. "It s pig latin for Rex. That s all. I m too blind to find anything." Stanley tried to remember how pig latin worked. "I mean," X-Ray went on, "why should you get a day off when you ve only been here a couple of days? If anybody gets a day off, it should be me. That s only fair, right?" "I guess," Stanley agreed. X-Ray smiled. "You re a good guy, Caveman." Stanley picked up his shovel. The more he thought about it, the more he was glad that he agreed to let X-Ray have anything he might find. If he was going to survive at Camp Green Lake, it was far more important that X-Ray think he was a good guy than it was for him to get one day off. Besides, he didn t expect to find anything anyway. There probably wasn t anything "of interest" out there, and even if there was, he d never been what you could call lucky. He slammed his blade into the ground, then dumped out another shovelful of dirt. It was a little surprising, he thought, that X-Ray was the leader of the group, since he obviously wasn t the biggest or the toughest. In fact, except for Zero, X-Ray was the smallest. Armpit was the biggest. Zigzag may have been taller than Armpit, but that was only because of his neck. Yet Armpit, and all the others, seemed to be willing to do whatever X-Ray asked of them. As Stanley dug up another shovelful of dirt, it occurred to him that Armpit wasn t the biggest. He, the Caveman, was bigger. He was glad they called him Caveman. It meant they accepted him as a member of the group. He would have been glad even if they d called him Barf Bag. 25 It was really quite remarkable to him. At school, bullies like Derrick Dunne used to pick on him. Yet Derrick Dunne would be scared senseless by any of the boys here. As he dug his hole, Stanley thought about what it would be like if Derrick Dunne had to fight Armpit or Squid. Derrick wouldn t stand a chance. He imagined what it would be like if he became good friends with all of them, and then for some reason they all went with him to his school, and then Derrick Dunne tried to steal his notebook . . . "Just what do you think you re doing?" asks Squid, as he slams his hands into Derrick Dunne s smug face. "Caveman s our friend," says Armpit, grabbing him by the shin collar. Stanley played the scene over and over again in his mind, each time watching another boy from Group D beat up Derrick Dunne. It helped him dig his hole and ease his own suffering. Whatever pain he felt was being felt ten times worse by Derrick. 12 Again, Stanley was the last one to finish digging. It was late afternoon when he dragged himself back to the compound. This time he would have accepted a ride on the truck if it was offered. When he got to the tent, he found Mr. Pendanski and the other boys sitting in a circle on the ground. "Welcome, Stanley," said Mr. Pendanski. "Hey, Caveman. You get your hole dug?" asked Magnet. He managed to nod. "You spit in it?" asked Squid. He nodded again. "You re right," he said to X-Ray. "The second hole s the hardest." X-Ray shook his head. "The third hole s the hardest," he said. "Come join our circle," said Mr. Pendanski. Stanley plopped down between Squid and Magnet. He needed to rest up before taking a shower. "We ve been discussing what we want to do with our lives," said Mr. Pendanski. "We re not going to be at Camp Green Lake forever. We need to prepare for the day we leave here and join the rest of society." "Hey, that s great, Mom!" said Magnet. "They re going to finally let you out of here?" The other boys laughed. "Okay, Jose," said Mr. Pendanski. "What do you want to do with your life?" "I don t know," said Magnet. "You need to think about that," said Mr. Pendanski. "It s important to have goals. Otherwise you re going to end up right back in jail. What do you like to do?" "I don t know," said Magnet. "You must like something," said Mr. Pendanski. "I like animals," said Magnet. 26 "Good," said Mr. Pendanski. "Does anyone know of any jobs that involve animals?" "Veterinarian," said Armpit. "That s right," said Mr. Pendanski. "He could work in a zoo," said Zigzag. "He belongs in the zoo," said Squid, then he and X-Ray laughed. "How about you, Stanley? Any ideas for Jose?" Stanley sighed. "Animal trainer," he said. "Like for the circus, or movies, or something like that." "Any of those jobs sound good to you, Jose?" asked Mr. Pendanski. "Yeah, I like what Caveman said. About training animals for movies. I think it would be fun to train monkeys." X-Ray laughed. "Don t laugh, Rex," said Mr. Pendanski. "We don t laugh at people s dreams. Someone is going to have to train monkeys for the movies." "Who are you kidding, Mom?" asked X-Ray. "Magnet s never going to be a monkey trainer." "You don t know that," said Mr. Pendanski. "I m not saying it s going to be easy. Nothing in life is easy. But that s no reason to give up. You ll be surprised what you can accomplish if you set your mind to it. After all, you only have one life, so you should try to make the most of it. Stanley tried to figure out what he d say if Mr. Pendanski asked him what he wanted to do with his life. He used to think he wanted to work for the F.B.I., but this didn t seem the appropriate place to mention that. "So far you ve all done a pretty good job at messing up your lives," said Mr. Pendanski. "I know you think you re cool." He looked at Stanley. "So you re Caveman, now, huh? You like digging holes, Caveman?" Stanley didn t know what to say. "Well, let me tell you something, Caveman. You are here on account of one person. If it wasn t for that person, you wouldn t be here digging holes in the hot sun. You know who that person is?" "My no-good-dirty-rotten-pig-stealing-great-great-grand-father." The other boys howled with laughter. Even Zero smiled. It was the first time Stanley had ever seen Zero smile. He usually had such an angry expression on his face. Now he had such a huge smile it almost seemed too big for his face, like the smile on a jack-o -lantern. "No," said Mr. Pendanski. "That person is you, Stanley. You re the reason you are here. You re responsible for yourself. You messed up your life, and it s up to you to fix it. No one else is going to do it for you? for any of you." Mr. Pendanski looked from one boy to another. "You re all special in your own way," he said. "You ve all got something to offer. You have to think about what you want to do, then do it. Even you, Zero. You re not completely worthless." The smile was now gone from Zero s face. 27 "What do you want to do with your life?" Mr. Pendanski asked him. Zero s mouth was shut tight. As he glared at Mr. Pendanski, his dark eyes seemed to expand. "What about it, Zero?" asked Mr. Pendanski. "What do you like to do?" "I like to dig holes." 13 All too soon Stanley was back out on the lake, sticking his shovel into the dirt. X-Ray was right the third hole was the hardest. So was the fourth hole. And the fifth hole. And the sixth, and the . . . He dug his shovel into the dirt. After a while he d lost track of the day of the week, and how many holes he d dug. It all seemed like one big hole, and it would take a year and a half to dig it. He guessed he d lost at least five pounds. He figured that in a year and a half he d be either in great physical condition, or else dead. He dug his shovel into the dirt. It couldn t always be this hot, he thought. Surely it got cooler in December. Maybe then they froze. He dug his shovel into the dirt. His skin had gotten tougher. It didn t hurt so much to hold the shovel. As he drank from his canteen he looked up at the sky. A cloud had appeared earlier in the day. It was the first cloud he could remember seeing since coming to Camp Green Lake. He and the other boys had been watching it all day, hoping it would move in front of the sun. Occasionally it got close, but it was just teasing them. His hole was waist deep. He dug his shovel into the dirt. As he dumped it out, he thought he saw something glisten as it fell onto the dirt pile. Whatever it was, it was quickly buried. Stanley stared at the pile a moment, unsure if he d even seen it. Even if it was something, what good would it do him? He d promised to give anything he found to X-Ray. It didn t seem worth the effort to climb out of his hole to check it out. He glanced up at the cloud, which was close enough to the sun that he had to squint to look at it. He dug his shovel back into the earth, scooped out some dirt, and lifted it over his dirt pile. But instead of dumping it there, he tossed it off to the side. His curiosity had gotten the better of him. He climbed up out of his hole and sifted his fingers through the pile. He felt something hard and metallic. He pulled it out. It was a gold tube, about as long and as wide as the second finger on his right hand. The tube was open at one end and closed at the other. He used a few drops of his precious water to clean it. 28 There seemed to be some kind of design on the flat, closed end. He poured a few more drops of water on it and rubbed it on the inside of his pants pocket. He looked again at the design engraved into the flat bottom of the tube. He could see an outline of a heart, with the letters K B etched inside it. He tried to figure out some way that he wouldn t have to give it to X-Ray. He could just keep it, but that wouldn t do him any good. He wanted a day off. He looked at the large piles of dirt near where X-Ray was digging. X-Ray was probably almost finished for the day. Getting the rest of the day off would hardly do him much good. X-Ray would first have to show the tube to Mr. Sir or Mr. Pendanski, who would then have to show it to the Warden. By then X-Ray might be done anyway. Stanley wondered about trying to secretly take the tube directly to the Warden. He could explain the situation to the Warden, and the Warden might make up an excuse for giving him the day off, so X-Ray wouldn t suspect. He looked across the lake toward the cabin under the two oak trees. The place scared him. He d been at Camp Green Lake almost two weeks, and he still hadn t seen the Warden. That was just as well. If he could go his entire year and a half without seeing the Warden, that would be fine with him. Besides, he didn t know if the Warden would find the tube "interesting." He looked at it again. It looked familiar. He thought he d seen something like it, somewhere before, but couldn t quite place it. "What you got there, Caveman?" asked Zigzag. Stanley s large hand closed around the tube. "Nothin , just, uh . . ." It was useless. "I think I might have found something." "Another fossil?" "No, I m not sure what it is." "Let me see," said Zigzag. Instead of showing it to Zigzag, Stanley brought it to X-Ray. Zigzag followed. X-Ray looked at the tube, then rubbed his dirty glasses on his dirty shirt and looked at the tube again. One by one, the other boys dropped their shovels and came to look. "It looks like an old shotgun shell," said Squid. "Yeah, that s probably what it is," said Stanley. He decided not to mention the engraved design. Maybe nobody would notice it. He doubted X-Ray could see it. "No, it s too long and thin to be a shotgun shell," said Magnet. "It s prob ly just a piece of junk," said Stanley. "Well, I ll show it to Mom," said X-Ray. "See what he thinks. Who knows? Maybe I ll get the day off." "Your hole s almost finished," said Stanley. "Yeah, so?" Stanley raised and lowered his shoulder. "So, why don t you wait until tomorrow to show it to Mom?" he suggested. "You can pretend you found it first thing in the morning. Then you can get the whole day off, instead of just an hour or so this afternoon." X-Ray smiled. "Good thinking, Caveman." He dropped the tube into his large pocket on the right leg of his dirty orange pants. 29 Stanley returned to his hole. When the water truck came, Stanley started to take his place at the end of the line, but X-Ray told him to get behind Magnet, in front of Zero. Stanley moved up one place in line. 14 That night, as Stanley lay on his scratchy and smelly cot, he tried to figure out what he could have done differently, but there was nothing he could do. For once in his unlucky life, he was in the right place at the right time, and it still didn t help him. "You got it?" he asked X-Ray the next morning at breakfast. X-Ray looked at him with half-opened eyes behind his dirty glasses. "I don t know what you re talking about," he grumbled. "You know . . ." said Stanley. "No, I don t know!" X-Ray snapped. "So just leave me alone, okay? I don t want to talk to you." Stanley didn t say another word. Mr. Sir marched the boys out to the lake, chewing sunflower seeds along the way and spitting out the shells. He scraped the ground with his boot heel, to mark where each boy was supposed to dig. Stanley stamped down on the back of the blade of the shovel, piercing the hard, dry earth. He couldn t figure out why X-Ray snapped at him. If he wasn t going to produce the tube, why did he make Stanley give it to him? Was he just going to keep it? The tube was gold in color, but Stanley didn t think it was real gold. The water truck came a little after sunrise. Stanley finished his last drop of water and stepped up out of his hole. At this time of day, Stanley sometimes could see some distant hills or mountains on the other side of the lake. They were only visible for a short while and would soon disappear behind the haze of heat and dirt. The truck stopped, and the dust cloud drifted past it. X-Ray took his place at the front of the line. Mr. Pendanski filled his canteen. "Thanks, Mom," X-Ray said. He didn t mention the tube. Mr. Pendanski filled all the canteens, then climbed back into the cab of the pickup. He still had to bring water to Group E. Stanley could see them digging about two hundred yards away. "Mr. Pendanski!" X-Ray shouted from his hole. "Wait! Mr. Pendanski! I think I might have found something!" The boys all followed Mr. Pendanski as he walked over to X-Ray s hole. Stanley could see the gold tube sticking out of some dirt on the end of X-Ray s shovel. Mr. Pendanski examined it and took a long look at its flat bottom. "I think the Warden is going to like this." "Does X-Ray get the day off?" asked Squid. "Just keep digging until someone says otherwise," Mr. Pendanski said. Then he smiled. "But if I were you, Rex, I wouldn t dig too hard." 30 Stanley watched the cloud of dust move across the lake to the cabin beneath the trees. The boys in Group E were just going to have to wait. It didn t take long for the pickup to return. Mr. Pendanski stepped out of the cab. A tall woman with red hair stepped out of the passenger side. She looked even taller than she was, since Stanley was down in his hole. She wore a black cowboy hat and black cowboy boots which were studded with turquoise stones. The sleeves on her shirt were rolled up, and her arms were covered with freckles, as was her face. She walked right up to X-Ray. "This where you found it?" "Yes, ma am." "Your good work will be rewarded." She turned to Mr. Pendanski. "Drive X-Ray back to camp. Let him take a double shower, and give him some clean clothes. But first I want you to fill everyone s canteen." "I just filled them a little while ago," said Mr. Pendanski. The Warden stared hard at him. "Excuse me," she said. Her voice was soft. "I had just filled them when Rex? " "Excuse me," the Warden said again. "Did I ask you when you last filled them?" "No, but it s just? " "Excuse me." Mr. Pendanski stopped talking. The Warden wiggled her finger for him to come to her. "It s hot and it s only going to get hotter," she said. "Now, these fine boys have been working hard. Don t you think it might be possible that they might have taken a drink since you last filled their canteens?" Mr. Pendanski said nothing. The Warden turned to Stanley. "Caveman, will you come here, please?" Stanley was surprised she knew his name. He had never seen her. Until she stepped out of the truck, he didn t even know the Warden was a woman. He nervously went toward her. "Mr. Pendanski and I have been having a discussion. Have you taken a drink since Mr. Pendanski last filled your canteen?" Stanley didn t want to cause any trouble for Mr. Pendanski. "I still got plenty left," he said. "Excuse me." He stopped. "Yeah, I drank some." "Thank you. May I see your canteen please." Stanley handed it to her. Her fingernails were painted dark red. She gently shook the canteen, letting the water swish inside the plastic container. "Do you hear the empty spaces?" she asked. "Yes," said Mr. Pendanski. "Then fill it," she said. "And the next time I tell you to do something, I expect you to do it without questioning my authority. If it s too much trouble for you to fill a canteen, I ll give you a shovel. You can dig the hole, and the Caveman can fill your canteen." 31 She turned back to Stanley. "I don t think that would be too much trouble for you, would it?" "No," said Stanley. "So what will it be?" she asked Mr. Pendanski. "Do you want to fill the canteens or do you want to dig?" "I ll fill the canteens," said Mr. Pendanski. "Thank you." 15 Mr. Pendanski filled the canteens. The Warden got a pitchfork out of the back of the pickup. She poked it through X-Ray s dirt pile, to see if anything else might have been buried in there as well. "After you drop off X-Ray, I want you to bring back three wheelbarrows," she said. X-Ray got in the pickup. As the truck pulled away, he leaned out the wide window and waved. "Zero," said the Warden. "I want you to take over X-Ray s hole." She seemed to know that Zero was the fastest digger. "Armpit and Squid, you will keep digging where you have been," she said. "But you re each going to have a helper. Zigzag, you help Armpit. Magnet will help Squid. And Caveman, you ll work with Zero. We re going to dig the dirt twice. Zero will dig it out of the hole, and Caveman will carefully shovel it into a wheelbarrow. Zigzag will do the same for Armpit, and the same with Magnet and Squid. We don t want to miss anything. If either of you find something, you ll both get the rest of the day off, and a double shower. "When the wheelbarrows are full, you are to dump them away from this area. We don t want any dirt piles to get in the way." The Warden remained at the site for the remainder of the day, along with Mr. Pendanski and Mr. Sir, who showed up after a while. Occasionally Mr. Sir would leave to take water to the other groups of campers, but otherwise he and the water truck stayed parked there. The Warden saw to it that nobody in Group D was ever thirsty. Stanley did as he was told. He carefully looked through all the dirt dug up by Zero, as he shoveled it into a wheelbarrow, though he knew he wouldn t find anything. It was easier than digging his own hole. When the wheelbarrow was full, he took it a good distance away before dumping it. The Warden couldn t keep still. She kept walking around, looking over the boys shoulders, and sticking her pitchfork through the dirt piles. "You re doing fine, just fine," she told Stanley. After a while, she told the boys to switch places, so that Stanley, Zigzag, and Magnet dug in the holes, and Zero, Armpit, and Squid shoveled the excavated dirt into the wheelbarrows. 32 After lunch, Zero took over the digging again, and Stanley returned to the wheelbarrow. "There s no hurry," the Warden said several times. "The main thing is not to miss anything." The boys dug until each hole was well over six feet deep and wide. Still, it was easier for two boys to dig a six-foot hole than it was for one boy to dig a five-foot hole. "All right, that s enough for today," the Warden said. "I ve waited this long, I can wait another day." Mr. Sir drove her back to her cabin. "I wonder how she knew all our names," Stanley said as he walked back to the compound. "She watches us all the time," said Zigzag. "She s got hidden microphones and cameras all over the place. In the tents, the Wreck Room, the shower." "The shower?" asked Stanley. He wondered if Zigzag was just being paranoid. "The cameras are tiny," said Armpit. "No bigger than the toenail on your little toe." Stanley had his doubts about that. He didn t think they could make cameras that small. Microphones, maybe. He realized that was why X-Ray didn t want to talk to him about the gold tube at breakfast. X-Ray was afraid the Warden might have been listening. One thing was certain They weren t just digging to "build character." They were definitely looking for something. And whatever they were looking for, they were looking in the wrong place. Stanley gazed out across the lake, toward the spot where he had been digging yesterday when he found the gold tube. He dug the hole into his memory. 16 As Stanley entered the Wreck Room, he could hear X-Ray s voice from all the way across the room. "See what I m saying," X-Ray said. "Am I right, or am I right?" The other bodies in the room were little more than bags of flesh and bones, dumped across broken chairs and couches. X-Ray was full of life, laughing and waving his arms around as he talked. "Yo, Caveman, my man!" he called out. Stanley made his way across the room. "Hey, slide on over, Squid," said X-Ray. "Make room for the Caveman." Stanley crashed on the couch. He had looked for a hidden camera in the shower. He hadn t seen anything, and he hoped the Warden hadn t either. "What s the matter?" asked X-Ray. "You guys tired or something?" He laughed. "Hey, keep it down, will you," groaned Zigzag. "I m trying to watch TV." Stanley glanced uncertainly at Zigzag, who was staring very intently at the busted television screen. 33 The Warden greeted the boys at breakfast the next morning and went with them to the holes. Four dug in the holes, and three tended to the wheelbarrows. "Glad you re here, X-Ray," she said to him. "We need your sharp eyes." Stanley spent more time pushing the wheelbarrow than digging, because he was such a slow digger. He carted away the excess dirt and dumped it into previously dug holes. He was careful not to dump any of it in the hole w here the gold tube was actually found. He could still see the tube in his mind. It seemed so familiar, but he just couldn t place it. He thought that it might have been the lid to a fancy gold pen. K B could have been the initials of a famous author. The only famous authors he could think of were Charles Dickens, William Shakespeare, and Mark Twain. Besides, it didn t really look like the top of a pen. By lunchtime the Warden was beginning to lose her patience. She made them eat quickly, so they could get back to work. "If you can t get them to work any faster," she told Mr. Sir, "then you re going to have to climb down there and dig with them." After that, everyone worked faster, especially when Mr. Sir was watching them. Stanley practically ran when he pushed his wheelbarrow. Mr. Sir reminded them that they weren t Girl Scouts. They didn t quit digging until after every other group had finished. Later, as Stanley sat sprawled across an understuffed chair, he tried to think of a way to tell the Warden where the tube was really found, without getting himself or X-Ray into trouble. It didn t seem possible. He even thought about sneaking out at night and digging in that hole by himself. But the last thing he wanted to do after digging all day was to "dig at night, too. Besides, the shovels were locked up at night, presumably so they couldn t be used as weapons. Mr. Pendanski entered the Wreck Room. "Stanley," he called as he made his way to him. "His name s Caveman," said X-Ray. "Stanley," said Mr. Pendanski. "My name s Caveman," said Stanley. "Well, I have a letter here for someone named Stanley Yelnats," said Mr. Pendanski. He turned over an envelope in his hands. "It doesn t say Caveman anywhere." "Uh, thanks," Stanley said, taking it. It was from his mother. "Who s it from?" Squid asked. "Your mother?" Stanley put it in the big pocket of his pants. "Aren t you going to read it to us?" asked Armpit. "Give him some space," said X-Ray. "If Caveman doesn t want to read it to us, he doesn t have to. It s probably from his girlfriend." Stanley smiled. He read it later, after the other boys had gone to dinner. 34 Dear Stanley, It was wonderful to hear from you. Your letter made me feel like one of the other moms who can afford to send their kids to summer camp. I know it s not the same, but I am very proud of you for trying to make the best of a bad situation. Who knows? Maybe something good will come of this. Your father thinks he is real close to a breakthrough on his sneaker project. I hope so. The landlord is threatening to evict us because of the odor. I feel sorry for the little old lady who lived in a shoe. It must have smelled awful! Love from both of us, "What s so funny?" Zero asked. It startled him. He thought Zero had gone to dinner with the others. "Nothing. Just something my mom wrote." "What d she say?" Zero asked. "Nothing." "Oh, sorry," said Zero. "Well, see my dad is trying to invent a way to recycle old sneakers. So the apartment kind of smells bad, because he s always cooking these old sneakers. So anyway, in the letter my mom said she felt sorry for that little old lady who lived in a shoe, you know, because it must have smelled bad in there." Zero stared blankly at him. "You know, the nursery rhyme?" Zero said nothing. "You ve heard the nursery rhyme about the little old lady who lived in a shoe?" "No." Stanley was amazed. "How does it go?" asked Zero. "Didn t you ever watch Sesame Street?" Stanley asked. Zero stared blankly. Stanley headed on to dinner. He would have felt pretty silly reciting nursery rhymes at Camp Green Lake. 17 For the next week and a half, the boys continued to dig in and around the area where X-Ray had supposedly found the gold tube. They widened X-Ray s hole, as well as the holes Armpit and Squid had been digging, until the fourth day, when all three holes met and formed one big hole. As the days wore on, the Warden became less and less patient. She arrived later in the morning and left earlier in the afternoon. Meanwhile, the boys continued to dig later and later. "This is no bigger than it was when I left you yesterday," she said after arriving late one morning, well after sunrise. "What have you been doing down there?" 35 "Nothing," said Squid. It was the wrong thing to say. At just that moment, Armpit was returning from a bathroom break. "How nice of you to join us," she said. "And what have you been doing?" "I had to . . . you know . . . go." The Warden jabbed at Armpit with her pitchfork, knocking him backward into the big hole. The pitchfork left three holes in the front of his shirt, and three tiny spots of blood. "You re giving these boys too much water," the Warden told Mr. Pendanski. They continued to dig until late afternoon, long after all the other groups had finished for the day. Stanley was down in the big hole, along with the other six boys. They had stopped using the wheelbarrows. He dug his shovel into the side of the hole. He scooped up some dirt, and was raising it up to the surface when Zigzag s shovel caught him in the side of the head. He collapsed. He wasn t sure if he passed out or not. He looked up to see Zigzag s wild head staring down at him. "I ain t digging that dirt up," Zigzag said. "That s your dirt." "Hey, Mom!" Magnet called. "Caveman s been hurt." Stanley brought his fingers up the side of his neck. He felt his wet blood and a pretty big gash just below his ear. Magnet helped Stanley to his feet, then up and out of the hole. Mr. Sir made a bandage out of a piece of his sack of sunflower seeds and taped it over Stanley s wound. Then he told him to get back to work. "It isn t nap time." When Stanley returned to the hole, Zigzag was waiting for him. "That s your dirt," Zigzag said. "You have to dig it up. It s covering up my dirt." Stanley felt a little dizzy. He could see a small pile of dirt. It took him a moment to realize that it was the dirt which had been on his shovel when he was hit. He scooped it up, then Zigzag dug his shovel into the ground underneath where "Stanley s dirt" had been. 18 The next morning Mr. Sir marched the boys to another section of the lake, and each boy dug his own hole, five feet deep and five feet wide. Stanley was glad to be away from the big hole. At least now he knew just how much he had to dig for the day. And it was a relief not to have other shovels swinging past his face, or the Warden hanging around. He dug his shovel into the dirt, then slowly turned to dump it into a pile. He had to make his turns smooth and slow. If he jerked too quickly, he felt a throbbing pain just above his neck where Zigzag s shovel had hit him. 36 That part of his head, between his neck and ear, was considerably swollen. There were no mirrors in camp, but he imagined he looked like he had a hard-boiled egg sticking out of him. The remainder of his body hardly hurt at all. His muscles had strengthened, and his hands were tough and callused. He was still the slowest digger, but not all that much slower than Magnet. Less than thirty minutes after Magnet returned to camp, Stanley spat into his hole. After his shower, he put his dirty clothes in his crate and got out his box of stationery. He stayed in the tent to write the letter so Squid and the other boys wouldn t make fun of him for writing to his mother. Dear Mom and Dad, Camp is hard, but challenging. We ve been running obstacle courses, and have to swim long distances on the lake. Tomorrow we learn… He stopped writing as Zero walked into the tent, then returned to his letter. He didn t care what Zero thought. Zero was nobody. … to rock climb. I know that sounds scary, but don t worry, Zero was standing beside him now, watching him write. Stanley turned, and felt his neck throb. "I don t like it when you read over my shoulder, okay?" Zero said nothing. I ll be careful. It s not all fun and games here, but I think I m getting a lot out of it. It builds character. The other boys… "I don t know how," said Zero. "What?" "Can you teach me?" Stanley didn t know what he was talking about. "Teach you what, to rock climb?" Zero stared at him with penetrating eyes. "What?" said Stanley. He was hot, tired, and sore. "I want to learn to read and write," said Zero. Stanley let out a short laugh. He wasn t laughing at Zero. He was just surprised. All this time he had thought Zero was reading over his shoulder. "Sorry," he said. "I don t know how to teach." After digging all day, he didn t have the strength to try to teach Zero to read and write. He needed to save his energy for the people who counted. "You don t have to teach me to write," said Zero. "Just to read. I don t have anybody to write to." "Sorry," Stanley said again. 37 His muscles and hands weren t the only parts of his body that had toughened over the past several weeks. His heart had hardened as well. He finished his letter. He barely had enough moisture in his mouth to seal and stamp the envelope. It seemed that no matter how much water he drank, he was always thirsty. 19 He was awakened one night by a strange noise. At first he thought it might have been some kind of animal, and it frightened him. But as the sleep cleared from his head, he realized that the noise was coming from the cot next to him. Squid was crying. "You okay?" Stanley whispered. Squid s head jerked around. He sniffed and caught his breath. "Yeah, I just . . . I m fine," he whispered, and sniffed again. In the morning Stanley asked Squid if he was feeling better. "What are you, my mother?" asked Squid. Stanley raised and lowered one shoulder. "I got allergies, okay?" Squid said. "Okay," said Stanley. "You open your mouth again, and I ll break your jaw." Stanley kept his mouth shut most of the time. He didn t talk too much to any of the boys, afraid that he might say the wrong thing. They called him Caveman and all that, but he couldn t forget that they were dangerous, too. They were all here for a reason. As Mr. Sir would say, this wasn t a Girl Scout camp. Stanley was thankful that there were no racial problems. X-Ray, Armpit, and Zero were black. He, Squid, and Zigzag were white. Magnet was Hispanic. On the lake they were all the same reddish brown color? the color of dirt. He looked up from his hole to see the water truck and its trailing dust cloud. His canteen was still almost a quarter full. He quickly drank it down, then took his place in line, behind Magnet and in front of Zero. The air was thick with heat, dust, and exhaust fumes. Mr. Sir filled their canteens. The truck pulled away. Stanley was back in his hole, shovel in hand, when he heard Magnet call out. "Anybody want some sunflower seeds?" Magnet was standing at ground level, holding a sack of seeds. He popped a handful into his mouth, chewed, and swallowed, shells and all. "Over here," called X-Ray. The sack looked to be about half full. Magnet rolled up the top, then tossed it to X-Ray. "How d you get them without Mr. Sir seeing you?" asked Armpit. "I can t help it," Magnet said. He held both hands up, wiggled his fingers, and laughed. "My fingers are like little magnets." 38 The sack went from X-Ray to Armpit to Squid. "It s sure good to eat something that doesn t come from a can," said Armpit. Squid tossed the sack to Zigzag. Stanley knew it would come to him next. He didn t even want it. From the moment Magnet shouted, "Anybody want some sunflower seeds," he knew there would be trouble. Mr. Sir was sure to come back. And anyway, the salted shells would only make him thirsty. "Coming your way, Caveman," said Zigzag. "Airmail and special delivery . . ." It s unclear whether the seeds spilled before they got to Stanley or after he dropped the bag. It seemed to him that Zigzag hadn t rolled up the top before throwing it, and that was the reason he didn t catch it. But it all happened very fast. One moment the sack was flying through the air, and the next thing Stanley knew the sack was in his hole and the seeds were spilled across the dirt. "Oh, man!" said Magnet. "Sorry," Stanley said as he tried to sweep the seeds back into the sack. "I don t want to eat dirt," said X-Ray. Stanley didn t know what to do. "The truck s coming!" shouted Zigzag. Stanley looked up at the approaching dust cloud, then back down at the spilled seeds. He was in the wrong place at the wrong time. What else is new? He dug his shovel into his hole, and tried to turn over the dirt and bury the seeds. What he should have done, he realized later, was knock one of his dirt piles back into his hole. But the idea of putting dirt into his hole was unthinkable. "Hello, Mr. Sir," said X-Ray. "Back so soon?" "It seems like you were just here," said Armpit. "Time flies when you re having fun," said Magnet. Stanley continued to turn the dirt over in his hole. "You Girl Scouts having a good time?" asked Mr. Sir. He moved from one hole to another. He kicked a dirt pile by Magnet s hole, then he moved toward Stanley. Stanley could see two seeds at the bottom of his hole. As he tried to cover them up, he unearthed a corner of the sack. "Well, what do you know, Caveman?" said Mr. Sir, standing over him. "It looks like you found something." Stanley didn t know what to do. "Dig it out," Mr. Sir said. "We ll take it to the Warden. Maybe she ll give you the rest of the day off." "It s not anything," Stanley muttered. "Let me be the judge of that," said Mr. Sir. Stanley reached down and pulled up the empty burlap sack. He tried to hand it to Mr. Sir, but he wouldn t take it. "So, tell me, Caveman," said Mr. Sir. "How did my sack of sunflower seeds get in your hole?" 39 "I stole it from your truck." "You did?" "Yes, Mr. Sir." "What happened to all the sunflower seeds?" "I ate them." "By yourself." "Yes, Mr. Sir." "Hey, Caveman!" shouted Armpit. "How come you didn t share any with us?" "That s cold, man," said X-Ray. "I thought you were our friend," said Magnet. Mr. Sir looked around from one boy to another, then back to Stanley. "We ll see what the Warden has to say about this. Let s go." Stanley climbed up out of his hole and followed Mr. Sir to the truck. He still held the empty sack. It felt good to sit inside the truck, out of the direct rays of the sun. Stanley was surprised he could feel good about anything at the moment, but he did. It felt good to sit down on a comfortable seat for a change. And as the truck bounced along the dirt, he was able to appreciate the air blowing through the open window onto his hot and sweaty face. 20 It felt good to walk in the shade of the two oak trees. Stanley wondered if this was how a condemned man felt on his way to the electric chair? appreciating all of the good things in life for the last time. They had to step around holes to get to the cabin door. Stanley was surprised to see so many around the cabin. He would have expected the Warden to not want the campers digging so close to her home. But several holes were right up against the cabin wall. The holes were closer together here as well, and were of different shapes and sizes. Mr. Sir knocked on the door. Stanley still held the empty sack. "Yes?" the Warden said, opening the door. "There s been a little trouble out on the lake," Mr. Sir said. "Caveman will tell you all about it." The Warden stared at Mr. Sir a moment, then her gaze turned toward Stanley. He felt nothing but dread now. "Come in, I suppose," said the Warden. "You re letting the cold out." It was air-conditioned inside her cabin. The television was going. She picked up the remote and turned it off. She sat down on a canvas chair. She was barefoot and wearing shorts. Her legs were as freckled as her face and arms. "So what is it you have to tell me?" Stanley took a breath to steady himself. "While Mr. Sir was filling the canteens, I snuck into the truck and stole his sack of sunflower seeds." 40 "I see." She turned to Mr. Sir. "That s why you brought him here?" "Yes, but I think he s lying. I think someone else stole the sack, and Caveman is covering up for X-Ray or somebody. It was a twenty-pound sack, and he claims to have eaten them all by himself." He took the sack from Stanley and handed it to the Warden. "I see," the Warden said again. "The sack wasn t full," said Stanley. "And I spilled a lot. You can check my hole." "In that room, Caveman, there s a small flowered case. Will you get it for me, please?" She pointed to a door. Stanley looked at the door, then at the Warden, then back at the door. He slowly walked toward it. It was a kind of dressing room, with a sink and a mirror. Next to the sink he saw the case, white with pink roses. He brought it back out to the Warden, and she set it on the glass coffee table in front of her. She unclasped the latch and opened the case. It was a makeup case. Stanley s mother had one similar to it. He saw several bottles of nail polish, polish remover, a couple of lipstick tubes, and other jars and powders. The Warden held up a small jar of dark-red nail polish. "You see this, Caveman?" He nodded. "This is my special nail polish. Do you see the dark rich color? You can t buy that in a store. I have to make it myself." Stanley had no idea why she was showing it to him. He wondered why the Warden would ever have the need to wear nail polish or makeup. "Do you want to know my secret ingredient?" He raised and lowered one shoulder. The Warden opened the bottle. "Rattlesnake venom." With a small paintbrush she began applying it to the nails on her left hand. "It s perfectly harmless . . . when it s dry." She finished her left hand. She waved it in the air for a few seconds, then began painting the nails on her right hand. "It s only toxic while it s wet." She finished painting her nails, then stood up. She reached over and touched Stanley s face with her fingers. She ran her sharp wet nails very gently down his cheek. He felt his skin tingle. The nail on her pinkie just barely touched the wound behind his ear. A sharp sting of pain caused him to jump back. The Warden turned to face Mr. Sir, who was sitting on the fireplace hearth. "So you think he stole your sunflower seeds?" "No, he says he stole them, but I think it was? " She stepped toward him and struck him across the face. Mr. Sir stared at her. He had three long red marks slanting across the left side of his face. Stanley didn t know if the redness was caused by her nail polish or his blood. It took a moment for the venom to sink in. Suddenly, Mr. Sir screamed and clutched his face with both hands. He let himself fall over, rolling off the hearth and onto the rug. The Warden spoke softly. "I don t especially care about your sunflower seeds." Mr. Sir moaned. "If you must know," said the Warden, "I liked it better when you smoked." 41 For a second, Mr. Sir s pain seemed to recede. He took several long, deep breaths. Then his head jerked violently, and he let out a shrill scream, worse than the one before. The Warden turned to Stanley. "I suggest you go back to your hole now." Stanley started to go, but Mr. Sir lay in the way. Stanley could see the muscles on his face jump and twitch. His body writhed in agony. Stanley stepped carefully over him. "Is he? ?" "Excuse me?" said the Warden. Stanley was too frightened to speak. "He s not going to die," the Warden said. "Unfortunately for you." 21 It was a long walk back to his hole. Stanley looked out through the haze of heat and dirt at the other boys, lowering and raising their shovels. Group D was the farthest away. He realized that once again he would be digging long after everyone else had quit. He hoped he d finish before Mr. Sir recovered. He didn t want to be out there alone with Mr. Sir. He won t die, the Warden had said. Unfortunately for you. Walking across the desolate wasteland, Stanley thought about his great-grandfather? not the pig stealer but the pig stealer s son, the one who was robbed by Kissin Kate Barlow. He tried to imagine how he must have felt after Kissin Kate had left him stranded in the desert. It probably wasn t a whole lot different from the way he himself felt now. Kate Barlow had left his great-grandfather to face the hot barren desert. The Warden had left Stanley to face Mr. Sir. Somehow his great-grandfather had survived for seventeen days, before he was rescued by a couple of rattlesnake hunters. He was insane when they found him. When he was asked how he had lived so long, he said he "found refuge on God s thumb." He spent nearly a month in a hospital. He ended up marrying one of the nurses. Nobody ever knew what he meant by God s thumb, including himself. Stanley heard a twitching sound. He stopped in mid-step, with one foot still in the air. A rattlesnake lay coiled beneath his foot. Its tail was pointed upward, rattling. Stanley backed his leg away, then turned and ran. The rattlesnake didn t chase after him. It had rattled its tail to warn him to stay away. "Thanks for the warning," Stanley whispered as his heart pounded. The rattlesnake would be a lot more dangerous if it didn t have a rattle. "Hey, Caveman!" called Armpit. "You re still alive." "What d the Warden say?" asked X-Ray. "What d you tell her?" asked Magnet. 42 "I told her I stole the seeds," said Stanley. "Good going," said Magnet. "What d she do?" asked Zigzag. Stanley shrugged one shoulder. "Nothing. She got mad at Mr. Sir for bothering her." He didn t feel like going into details. If he didn t talk about it, then maybe it didn t happen. He went over to his hole, and to his surprise it was nearly finished. He stared at it, amazed. It didn t make sense. Or perhaps it did. He smiled. Since he had taken the blame for the sunflower seeds, he realized, the other boys had dug his hole for him. "Hey, thanks," he said. "Don t look at me," said X-Ray. Confused, Stanley looked around? from Magnet, to Armpit, to Zigzag, to Squid. None of them took credit for it. Then he turned to Zero, who had been quietly digging in his hole since Stanley s return. Zero s hole was smaller than all the others. 22 Stanley was the first one finished. He spat in his hole, then showered and changed into his cleaner set of clothes. It had been three days since the laundry was done, so even his clean set was dirty and smelly. Tomorrow, these would become his work clothes, and his other set would be washed. He could think of no reason why Zero would dig his hole for him. Zero didn t even get any sunflower seeds. "I guess he likes to dig holes," Armpit had said. "He s a mole," Zigzag had said. "I think he eats dirt." "Moles don t eat dirt," X-Ray had pointed out. "Worms eat dirt." "Hey, Zero?" Squid had asked. "Are you a mole or a worm?" Zero had said nothing. Stanley never even thanked him. But now he sat on his cot and waited for Zero to return from the shower room. "Thanks," he said as Zero entered through the tent flap. Zero glanced at him, then went over to the crates, where he deposited his dirty clothes and towel. "Why d you help me?" Stanley asked. Zero turned around. "You didn t steal the sunflower seeds," he said. "So, neither did you," said Stanley. Zero stared at him. His eyes seemed to expand, and it was almost as if Zero were looking right through him. "You didn t steal the sneakers," he said. Stanley said nothing. He watched Zero walk out of the tent. If anybody had X-ray vision, it was Zero. 43 "Wait!" he called, then hurried out after him. Zero had stopped just outside the tent, and Stanley almost ran into him. "I ll try to teach you to read if you want," Stanley offered. "I don t know if I know how to teach, but I m not that worn-out today, since you dug a lot of my hole." A big smile spread across Zero s face. They returned to the tent, where they were less likely to be bothered. Stanley got his box of stationery and a pen out of his crate. They sat on the ground. "Do you know the alphabet?" Stanley asked. For a second, he thought he saw a flash of defiance in Zero s eyes, but then it passed. "I think I know some of it," Zero said. "A, B, C, D." "Keep going," said Stanley. Zero s eyes looked upward. "E . . ." "F," said Stanley. "G," said Zero. He blew some air out of the side of his mouth. "H . . . I . . . K, P." "H, I, J, K, L," Stanley said. "That s right," said Zero. "I ve heard it before. I just don t have it memorized exactly." "That s all right," said Stanley. "Here, I ll say the whole thing, just to kind of refresh your memory, then you can try it." He recited the alphabet for Zero, then Zero repeated it without a single mistake. Not bad for a kid who had never seen Sesame Street! "Well, I ve heard it before, somewhere," Zero said, trying to act like it was nothing, but his big smile gave him away. The next step was harder. Stanley had to figure out how to teach him to recognize each letter. He gave Zero a piece of paper, and took a piece for himself. "I guess we ll start with A." He printed a capital A, and then Zero copied it on his sheet of paper. The paper wasn t lined, which made it more difficult, but Zero s A wasn t bad, just a little big. Stanley told him he needed to write smaller, or else they d run out of paper real quick. Zero printed it smaller. "Actually, there are two ways to write each letter," Stanley said, as he realized this was going to be even harder than he thought. "That s a capital A. But usually you ll see a small a. You only have capitals at the beginning of a word, and only if it s the start of a sentence, or if it s a proper noun, like a name." Zero nodded as if he understand, but Stanley knew he had made very little sense. He printed a lowercase a, and Zero copied it. "So there are fifty-two," said Zero. Stanley didn t know what he was talking about. "Instead of twenty-six letters. There are really fifty-two." Stanley looked at him, surprised. "I guess that s right. How d you figure that out?" he asked. Zero said nothing. "Did you add?" Zero said nothing. 44 "Did you multiply?" "That s just how many there are," said Zero. Stanley raised and lowered one shoulder. He didn t even know how Zero knew there were twenty-six in the first place. Did he count them as he recited them? He had Zero write a few more upper- and lowercase A s, and then he moved on to a capital B. This was going to take a long time, he realized. "You can teach me ten letters a day," suggested Zero. "Five capitals and five smalls. After five days I ll know them all. Except on the last day I ll have to do twelve. Six capitals and six smalls." Again Stanley stared at him, amazed that he was able to figure all that out. Zero must have thought he was staring for a different reason, because he said, "I ll dig part of your hole every day. I can dig for about an hour, then you can teach me for an hour. And since I m a faster digger anyway, our holes will get done about the same time. I won t have to wait for you." "Okay," Stanley agreed. As Zero was printing his B s, Stanley asked him how he figured out it would take five days. "Did you multiply? Did you divide?" "That s just what it is," Zero said. "It s good math," said Stanley. "I m not stupid," Zero said. "I know everybody thinks I am. I just don t like answering their questions." Later that night, as he lay on his cot, Stanley reconsidered the deal he had made with Zero. Getting a break every day would be a relief, but he knew X-Ray wouldn t like it. He wondered if there might be some way Zero would agree to dig part of X-Ray s hole as well. But then again, why should he? I m the one teaching Zero. I need the break so I ll have the energy to teach him. I m the one who took the blame for the sunflower seeds. I m the one who Mr. Sir is mad at. He closed his eyes, and images from the Warden s cabin floated inside his head her red fingernails, Mr. Sir writhing on the floor, her flowered makeup kit. He opened his eyes. He suddenly realized where he d seen the gold tube before. He d seen it in his mother s bathroom, and he d seen it again in the Warden s cabin. It was half of a lipstick container. KB? KB? He felt a jolt of astonishment. His mouth silently formed the name Kate Barlow, as he wondered if it really could have belonged to the kissin outlaw. 23 45 One hundred and ten years ago, Green Lake was the largest lake in Texas. It was full of clear cool water, and it sparkled like a giant emerald in the sun. It was especially beautiful in the spring, when the peach trees, which lined the shore, bloomed with pink and rose-colored blossoms. There was always a town picnic on the Fourth of July. They d play games, dance, sing, and swim in the lake to keep cool. Prizes were awarded for the best peach pie and peach jam. A special prize was given every year to Miss Katherine Barlow for her fabulous spiced peaches. No one else even tried to make spiced peaches, because they knew none could be as delicious as hers. Every summer Miss Katherine would pick bushels of peaches and preserve them in jars with cinnamon, cloves, nutmeg, and other spices which she kept secret. The jarred peaches would last all winter. They probably would have lasted a lot longer than that, but they were always eaten by the end of winter. It was said that Green Lake was "heaven on earth" and that Miss Katherine s spiced peaches were "food for the angels." Katherine Barlow was the town s only schoolteacher. She taught in an old one-room schoolhouse. It was old even then. The roof leaked. The windows wouldn t open. The door hung crooked on its bent hinges. She was a wonderful teacher, full of knowledge and full of life. The children loved her. She taught classes in the evening for adults, and many of the adults loved her as well. She was very pretty. Her classes were often full of young men, who were a lot more interested in the teacher than they were in getting an education. But all they ever got was an education. One such young man was Trout Walker. His real name was Charles Walker, but everyone called him Trout because his two feet smelled like a couple of dead fish. This wasn t entirely Trout s fault. He had an incurable foot fungus. In fact, it was the same foot fungus that a hundred and ten years later would afflict the famous ballplayer Clyde Livingston. But at least Clyde Livingston showered every day. "I take a bath every Sunday morning," Trout would brag, "whether I need to or not." Most everyone in the town of Green Lake expected Miss Katherine to marry Trout Walker. He was the son of the richest man in the county. His family owned most of the peach trees and all the land on the east side of the lake. Trout often showed up at night school but never paid attention. He talked in class and was disrespectful of the students around him. He was loud and stupid. A lot of men in town were not educated. That didn t bother Miss Katherine. She knew they d spent most of their lives working on farms and ranches and hadn t had much schooling. That was why she was there? to teach them. But Trout didn t want to learn. He seemed to be proud of his stupidity. "How d you like to take a ride on my new boat this Saturday?" he asked her one evening after class. "No, thank you," said Miss Katherine. "We ve got a brand-new boat," he said. "You don t even have to row it." 46 "Yes, I know," said Miss Katherine. Everyone in town had seen? and heard? the Walkers new boat. It made a horrible loud noise and spewed ugly black smoke over the beautiful lake. Trout had always gotten everything he ever wanted. He found it hard to believe that Miss Katherine had turned him down. He pointed his finger at her and said, "No one ever says No to Charles Walker!" "I believe I just did," said Katherine Barlow. 24 Stanley was half asleep as he got in line for breakfast, but the sight of Mr. Sir awakened him. The left side of Mr. Sir s face had swollen to the size of half a cantaloupe. There were three dark-purple jagged lines running down his cheek where the Warden had scratched him. The other boys in Stanley s tent had obviously seen Mr. Sir as well, but they had the good sense not to say anything. Stanley put a carton of juice and a plastic spoon on his tray. He kept his eyes down and hardly breathed as Mr. Sir ladled some oatmeal-like stuff into his bowl. He brought his tray to the table. Behind him, a boy from one of the other tents said, "Hey, what happened to your face?" There was a crash. Stanley turned to see Mr. Sir holding the boy s head against the oatmeal pot. "Is something wrong with my face?" The boy tried to speak but couldn t. Mr. Sir had him by the throat. "Does anyone see anything wrong with my face?" asked Mr. Sir, as he continued to choke the boy. Nobody said anything. Mr. Sir let the boy go. His head banged against the table as he fell to the ground. Mr. Sir stood over him and asked, "How does my face look to you now?" A gurgling sound came out of the boy s mouth, then he managed to gasp the word, "Fine." "I m kind of handsome, don t you think?" "Yes, Mr. Sir." Out on the lake, the other boys asked Stanley what he knew about Mr. Sir s face, but he just shrugged and dug his hole. If he didn t talk about it, maybe it would go away. He worked as hard and as fast as he could, not trying to pace himself. He just wanted to get off the lake and away from Mr. Sir as soon as possible. Besides, he knew he d get a break. "Whenever you re ready, just let me know," Zero had said. The first time the water truck came, it was driven by Mr. Pendanski. The second time, Mr. Sir was driving. 47 No one said anything except "Thank you, Mr. Sir" as he filled each canteen. No one even dared to look at his grotesque face. As Stanley waited, he ran his tongue over the roof of his mouth and inside his cheeks. His mouth was as dry and as parched as the lake. The bright sun reflected off the side mirror of the truck, and Stanley had to shield his eyes with his hand. "Thank you, Mr. Sir," said Magnet, as he took his canteen from him. "You thirsty, Caveman?" Mr. Sir asked. "Yes, Mr. Sir," Stanley said, handing his canteen to him. Mr. Sir opened the nozzle, and the water flowed out of the tank, but it did not go into Stanley s canteen. Instead, he held the canteen right next to the stream of water. Stanley watched the water splatter on the dirt, where it was quickly absorbed by the thirsty ground. Mr. Sir let the water run for about thirty seconds, then stopped. "You want more?" he asked. Stanley didn t say anything. Mr. Sir turned the water back on, and again Stanley watched it pour onto the dirt. "There, that should be plenty." He handed Stanley his empty canteen. Stanley stared at the dark spot on the ground, which quickly shrank before his eyes. "Thank you, Mr. Sir," he said. 25 There was a doctor in the town of Green Lake, one hundred and ten years ago. His name was Dr. Hawthorn. And whenever people got sick, they would go see Doc Hawthorn. But they would also see Sam, the onion man. "Onions! Sweet, fresh onions!" Sam would call, as he and his donkey, Mary Lou, walked up and down the dirt roads of Green Lake. Mary Lou pulled a cart full of onions. Sam s onion field was somewhere on the other side of the lake. Once or twice a week he would tow across the lake and pick a new batch to fill the cart. Sam had big strong arms, but it would still take all day for him to row across the lake and another day for him to return. Most of the time he would leave Mary Lou in a shed, which the Walkers let him use at no charge, but sometimes he would take Mary Lou on his boat with him. Sam claimed that Mary Lou was almost fifty years old, which was, and still is, extraordinarily old for a donkey. "She eats nothing but raw onions," Sam would say, holding up a white onion between his dark fingers. "It s nature s magic vegetable. If a person ate nothing but raw onions, he could live to be two hundred years old." Sam was not much older than twenty, so nobody was quite sure that Mary Lou was really as old as he said she was. How would he know? Still, nobody ever argued with Sam. And whenever they were sick, they would go not only to Doc Hawthorn but also to Sam. 48 Sam always gave the same advice "Eat plenty of onions." He said that onions were good for the digestion, the liver, the stomach, the lungs, the heart, and the brain. "If you don t believe me, just look at old Mary Lou here. She s never been sick a day in her life." He also had many different ointments, lotions, syrups, and pastes all made out of onion juice and different parts of the onion plant. This one cured asthma. That one was for warts and pimples. Another was a remedy for arthritis. He even had a special ointment which he claimed would cure baldness. "Just rub it on your husband s head every night when he s sleeping, Mrs. Collingwood, and soon his hair will be as thick and as long as Mary Lou s tail." Doc Hawthorn did not resent Sam. The folks of Green Lake were afraid to take chances. They would get regular medicine from Doc Hawthorn and onion concoctions from Sam. After they got over their illness, no one could be sure, not even Doc Hawthorn, which of the two treatments had done the trick. Doc Hawthorn was almost completely bald, and in the morning his head often smelled like onions. Whenever Katherine Barlow bought onions, she always bought an extra one or two and would let Mary Lou eat them out of her hand. "Is something wrong?" Sam asked her one day as she was feeding Mary Lou. "You seem distracted." "Oh, just the weather," said Miss Katherine. "It looks like rain clouds moving in." "Me and Mary Lou, we like the rain," said Sam. "Oh, I like it fine," said Miss Katherine, as she rubbed the donkey s rough hair on top of its head. "It s just that the roof leaks in the schoolhouse." "I can fix that," said Sam. "What are you going to do?" Katherine joked. "Fill the holes with onion paste?" Sam laughed. "I m good with my hands," he told her. "I built my own boat. If it leaked, I d be in big trouble." Katherine couldn t help but notice his strong, firm hands. They made a deal. He agreed to fix the leaky roof in exchange for six jars of spiced peaches. It took Sam a week to fix the roof, because he could only work in the afternoons, after school let out and before night classes began. Sam wasn t allowed to attend classes because he was a Negro, but they let him fix the building. Miss Katherine usually stayed in the schoolhouse, grading papers and such, while Sam worked on the roof. She enjoyed what little conversation they were able to have, shouting up and down to each other. She was surprised by his interest in poetry. When he took a break, she would sometimes read a poem to him. On more than one occasion, she would start to read a poem by Poe or Longfellow, only to hear him finish it for her, from memory. She was sad when the roof was finished. "Is something wrong?" he asked. 49 "No, you did a wonderful job," she said. "It s just that . . . the windows won t open. The children and I would enjoy a breeze now and then." "I can fix that," said Sam. She gave him two more jars of peaches and Sam fixed the windows. It was easier to talk to him when he was working on the windows. He told her about his secret onion field on the other side of the lake, "where the onions grow all year round, and the water runs uphill." When the windows were fixed, she complained that her desk wobbled. "I can fix that," said Sam. The next time she saw him, she mentioned that "the door doesn t hang straight," and she got to spend another afternoon with him while he fixed the door. By the end of the first semester, Onion Sam had turned the old run-down schoolhouse into a well-crafted, freshly painted jewel of a building that the whole town was proud of. People passing by would stop and admire it. "That s our schoolhouse. It shows how much we value education here in Green Lake." The only person who wasn t happy with it was Miss Katherine. She d run out of things needing to be fixed. She sat at her desk one afternoon, listening to the pitter-patter of the rain on the roof. No water leaked into the classroom, except for the few drops that came from her eyes. "Onions! Hot sweet onions!" Sam called, out on the street. She ran to him. She wanted to throw her arms around him but couldn t bring herself to do it. Instead she hugged Mary Lou s neck. "Is something wrong?" he asked her. "Oh, Sam," she said. "My heart is breaking." "I can fix that," said Sam. She turned to him. He took hold of both of her hands, and kissed her. Because of the rain, there was nobody else out on the street. Even if there was, Katherine and Sam wouldn t have noticed. They were lost in their own world. At that moment, however, Hattie Parker stepped out of the general store. They didn t see her, but she saw them. She pointed her quivering finger in their direction and whispered, "God will punish you!" 26 There were no telephones, but word spread quickly through the small town. By the end of the day, everyone in Green Lake had heard that the schoolteacher had kissed the onion picker. Not one child showed up for school the next morning. Miss Katherine sat alone in the classroom and wondered if she had lost track of the day of the week. Perhaps it was Saturday. It wouldn t have surprised her. Her brain and heart had been spinning ever since Sam kissed her. 50 She heard a noise outside the door, then suddenly a mob of men and women came storming into the school building. They were led by Trout Walker. "There she is!" Trout shouted. "The Devil Woman!" The mob was turning over desks and ripping down bulletin boards. "She s been poisoning your children s brains with books," Trout declared. They began piling all the books in the center of the room. "Think about what you are doing!" cried Miss Katherine. Someone made a grab for her, tearing her dress, but she managed to get out of the building. She ran to the sheriff s office. The sheriff had his feet up on his desk and was drinking from a bottle of whiskey. "Mornin , Miss Katherine," he said. "They re destroying the schoolhouse," she said, gasping for breath. "They ll burn it to the ground if someone doesn t stop them!" "Just calm your pretty self down a second," the sheriff said in a slow drawl. "And tell me what you re talking about." He got up from his desk and walked over to her. "Trout Walker has? " "Now don t go saying nothing bad about Charles Walker," said the sheriff. "We don t have much time!" urged Katherine. "You ve got to stop them." "You re sure pretty," said the sheriff. Miss Katherine stared at him in horror. "Kiss me," said the sheriff. She slapped him across the face. He laughed. "You kissed the onion picker. Why won t you kiss me?" She tried to slap him again, but he caught her by the hand. She tried to wriggle free. "You re drunk!" she yelled. "I always get drunk before a hanging." "A hanging? Who? " "It s against the law for a Negro to kiss a white woman." "Well, then you ll have to hang me, too," said Katherine. "Because I kissed him back." "It ain t against the law for you to kiss him," the sheriff explained. "Just for him to kiss you." "We re all equal under the eyes of God," she declared. The sheriff laughed. "Then if Sam and I are equal, why won t you kiss me?" He laughed again. "I ll make you a deal. One sweet kiss, and I won t hang your boyfriend. I ll just run him out of town." Miss Katherine jerked her hand free. As she hurried to the door, she heard the sheriff say, "The law will punish Sam. And God will punish you." She stepped back into the street and saw smoke rising from the schoolhouse. She ran down to the lakefront, where Sam was hitching Mary Lou to the onion cart. "Thank God, I found you," she sighed, hugging him. "We ve got to get out of here. Now!" "What? " 51 "Someone must have seen us kissing yesterday," she said. "They set fire to the schoolhouse. The sheriff said he s going to hang you!" Sam hesitated for a moment, as if he couldn t quite believe it. He didn t want to believe it. "C mon, Mary Lou." "We have to leave Mary Lou behind," said Katherine. Sam stared at her a moment. There were tears in his eyes. "Okay." Sam s boat was in the water, tied to a tree by a long rope. He untied it, and they waded through the water and climbed aboard. His powerful arms rowed them away from the shore. But his powerful arms were no match for Trout Walker s motorized boat. They were little more than halfway across the lake when Miss Katherine heard the loud roar of the engine. Then she saw the ugly black smoke . . . These are the facts The Walker boat smashed into Sam s boat. Sam was shot and killed in the water. Katherine Barlow was rescued against her wishes. When they returned to the shore, she saw Mary Lou s body lying on the ground. The donkey had been shot in the head. That all happened one hundred and ten years ago. Since then, not one drop of rain has fallen on Green Lake. You make the decision Whom did God punish? Three days after Sam s death, Miss Katherine shot the sheriff while he was sitting in his chair drinking a cup of coffee. Then she carefully applied a fresh coat of red lipstick and gave him the kiss he had asked for. For the next twenty years Kissin Kate Barlow was one of the most feared outlaws in all the West. 27 Stanley dug his shovel into the ground. His hole was about three and a half feet deep in the center. He grunted as he pried up some dirt, then flung it off to the side. The sun was almost directly overhead. He glanced at his canteen lying beside his hole. He knew it was half full, but he didn t take a drink just yet. He had to drink sparingly, because he didn t know who would be driving the water truck the next time it came. Three days had passed since the Warden had scratched Mr. Sir. Every time Mr. Sir delivered water, he poured Stanley s straight onto the ground. Fortunately, Mr. Pendanski delivered the water more often than Mr. Sir. Mr. Pendanski was obviously aware of what Mr. Sir was doing, because he always gave Stanley a little extra. He d fill Stanley s canteen, then let Stanley take a long drink, then top it off for him. It helped, too, that Zero was digging some of Stanley s hole for him. Although, as Stanley had expected, the other boys didn t like to see Stanley sitting around while they 52 were working. They d say things like "Who died and made you king?" or "It must be nice to have your own personal slave." When he tried pointing out that he was the one who took the blame for the sunflower seeds, the other boys said it was his fault because he was the one who spilled them. "I risked my life for those seeds," Magnet had said, "and all I got was one lousy handful."
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What s going on, Mickey? 調子はどう？ミッキー。 The water s been fixed, so you can take a hot shower if you want. 水道は直ったわ。シャワー浴びれるわよ。 Hi. ハイ。 Yeah. そう。 I smell that bad? そんなに臭う？ Great, I ll take a quick one before bedtime. グレイト！寝る前にさっと浴びるわ。 I kinda liked taking a cold shower in this heat. この暑さじゃ水浴びがしたいような感じね。 No, I didn t mean that you-- I just, you know, in case you wanted to take a warm shower, I just wanted you to...the water being hot. As it were. いいえ、そういう意味じゃないわ。あなたがもし温かいシャワーを浴びたかったのなら、熱いのを浴びさせようかと思っただけよ。 You can still take a...a cold shower if you really want to. I m just saying the hot water s there, you know, in case...in case you need it. Thanks, Mickey. ありがとう。 Yeah. ええ Mind you don t let everyone else go before you, cause in that case I can t guarantee that you ll...the water gets cold, you know? あなたが先に浴びたいのなら Thanks, Mickey. Yeah. Thanks, Mickey. Yeah. I ll talk to you later, Mickey. 後でね、ミッキー。 Yeah. I heard you had a nightmare last night. 昨晩悪夢を見たって聞いたけど。 Did she tell you that? She can t keep her mouth shut, can she. You can t, can you? 彼女が言ったの？黙ってられないのね。 What was wrong with the pipes? パイプの何が悪かったの？ They re just old. Like all of Venice, they re really old. Twice a year, every year, I have to spend half a day freezing my ass off down in the canal performing emergency surgery on the pipes. 古かったのよ。ベニスのように。本当に古いわ。年に2回、毎年、パイプの緊急手術のために用水路に入ってケツを凍らせながら半日過ごさないとならない。 Not that I don t love doing it, especially when my so-called partner s curled up on the sofa watching soaps all day long. Later, Mickey. Yeah. As if your screaming wasn t enough to wake up the whole building? And so what if you were having a nightmare? You are human, you know. Even though you d like to think differently. I m sorry, I didn t mean to cause an argument. It s just that I had a nightmare as well. Good luck trying to get anything out of her. She s so very together, you know? There ll be no chink in her armor. She s the iron lady. Well, bollocks. Would you shut up, Fiona? I mean, for once, would you just shut up? Yes, I had a nightmare, and yes, it s none of your business. So don t try to make it your business. I wasn t trying to...to intrude. Fine. I just don t like talking about my dreams, yeah? Have you been sitting here all day? Hi, Fiona. Hi, darling! What ve you been up to today? I saw you come down early this morning, but you looked busy, so I didn t want to bother you. Pretty much, darling. I feel like a vegetable. How was your day, then? I ve been working on my painting. I ve been around. Sleepwalking, basically. Oh right, for the exhibition? How s that going, darling? Until today? Terrible. But I managed to get something down on canvas this morning, so I feel a little better. You ll be all right, I m sure of it. After all, I love your paintings. I wish my teachers shared your enthusiasm, Fiona. They will. Trust me. You ll be the star of the show. Did you go to school today? Yeah, all morning, and half the afternoon. I actually made some progress on my painting -- you know, for the exhibition? Finally, eh? I knew you d get around to it eventually. I haven t been particularly inspired lately, but today there were certain...events that inspired me. Same here. I felt particularly inspired after watching Greg punch out Lars, the evil Norwegian brain surgeon on "The Wealthy and the Depraved". He deserved a good beating after what he did to Laura, the precious thing. Ha-ha. Yeah? You tired, darling? I didn t sleep much last night. Nightmares. God, you too? Mickey woke me up screaming in the middle of the night. She was so perturbed she refused to go back to sleep until I made her a cup of herbal tea. This is Mickey we re talking about? Exactly. Hard to believe, yeah? She s always so composed, even in the most extreme situations. It frightened me half to death seeing her like that, darling. Don t tell her I said so, though. She wouldn t want me talking about it, I m sure. It was good. It s been a weird day. I ve had a horrible day. How so? Really? What happened? Well, you know how some mornings, you wake up, but you re not sure if you re really awake or if you re still just dreaming? I feel like that every morning, darling. A pot of black coffee cures that in a flash. That s how I ve been feeling all day. Like I said, it s been a weird day. How was yours? Exceedingly ordinary. Almost depressingly so. I poked my head out the door once, for about a second, but thought better of it. Did you get any work done? You know what, I think I did. Surprised the hell out of me, that s for sure. That s wonderful, darling. See, didn t I tell you? I knew you d be inspired again. You were right. I usually am. Yeah, you were right. I usually am. That s good, then. See, didn t I tell you? I knew you would. Just...everything. But I did get some work done. Why don t you sit down and watch a movie with us, April? You know what? That sounds like an excellent idea. I ll see you later, yeah? All right, darling. Bye. Bye now. What are you watching? Nothing special. We were thinking about watching a movie later, though. Yeah? Which one? They have quite a few new releases out. Did you ever see "Victory Hotel"? No. Is it good? That s what they say. So we might catch that one. Can I ask you a few questions? Can I ask you a few more questions? Why, certainly, darling. About what? I don t mind, darling. Ask away. Morning, Fiona! Good morning, darling! You re up early. Hi. Hello, darling. Yeah, I couldn t sleep. Are you feeling all right? You look a little pale. I had a bad nightmare. I just have a lot of work to do. I m fine... Again? Well, you re not the only one, darling. Mickey woke me up screaming in the middle of the night. She wouldn t go back to sleep until I made her a cup of herbal tea. That doesn t sound like Mickey. I know, darling. Don t tell her I said so, but I ve never seen her so agitated in my life. She scared the hell out of me. For the exhibition? How s that going, darling? Good. Fine. It s going...actually it s not going so well. I haven t felt inspired in a long time. Weeks. I m scared that I ll never-- What d happen if I just...ran out of creativity, Fiona? What if I can t ever finish a painting again? Oh God, I ve chosen the wrong line of work... Oh, darling, no. No, I just think you work too hard. I worry about you all the time, you know. Don t. Well, darling, I do. You should work less and play more. When was the last time you had a boyfriend? God, don t remind me. That s a depressing thought. Well, there you are. Live. Enjoy your youth. It goes by too quickly as it is. Not hard enough, apparently. I don t even know if my painting will be done in time for the exhibition. I think I ve...inspiration is hard to find these days. Real hard. I don t know why I have nightmares. I guess they could be stress-related. After all, the exhibition is right around the corner. Oh yes, the school exhibition. How s that going? No, I don t know. But apparently you do. You need to take some time to yourself. Relax. Have a good time. Find yourself a boyfriend. Be eighteen. I m...just...just a little tired, that s all. You work much too hard, darling. Nightmares? Apparently. But she refuses to tell me what they were. I think she s embarrassed. God, don t ask. I have no idea how I m going to finish my painting on time. I haven t felt inspired in ages. I think you work too hard, darling. You need to relax once in a while. Live. Enjoy your youth. There s inspiration to be found in hedonism, you know. (laughs) I m an authority on the subject, darling. Ask Mickey. She ll tell you I don t lift a finger around the place unless I absolutely have to. Yeah, you d know, wouldn t you? I have time to be eighteen when I ve made it into the two-year program. Right now it s all I can do to keep my head above water. Take care you don t drown, darling. That s cute. That s...did you come up with that one just now? Because that s pretty cute. Yeah. Rather nifty, eh? I m no slouch when it comes to verbal sparring after all (laughs). Oh, that s uncalled-for. That s downright mean, April. I m in a mind to kick your arse for that one. And I ve won tougher fights, believe me (laughs). ...but? Where s everybody this morning? Mickey s tied up in the basement... Mind you, she s not literally tied up, of course -- although that is a tempting thought. Are we getting into your sexual fantasies here, Fiona? Because it s a little too early in the morning for that, don t you think? Sorry. I just can t help myself. Anyway, the plumbing is...you probably noticed when you took a shower, yeah? There s no hot water. So Mickey s working on that. Getting knee-deep in putrid canal water is her job, thank God. What about Charlie? He up yet? No, he s still sleeping, and Emma just went to bed. I saw her come in when I was making breakfast. Do you know who she s seeing now? I don t know. Some guy. Those lads I see her with, darling...she s too good for those arseholes. I wish she d find herself a man who d treat her right for once. She hasn t had much luck with love, no. She s a magnet for creeps. And she s so pretty. They prey on her, you know. Bastards. I ve tried to talk to her about it, but Emma s...impulsive. She doesn t listen. She s just as headstrong as you and me, darling. But I m sure she ll be all right. She s smart and resourceful, and not afraid to speak up for herself. Shouldn t you be outside enjoying the good weather? You joking? Bollocks to that, I ll stay inside until September, thank you very much. It s too bloody hot. I d better get going. Off to school? Yeah, there are no more classes this semester, but I have to finish my painting by next Thursday. For what it s worth, darling--good luck. And don t work too hard, all right? See you later, Fiona. Have fun, darling. Can I ask you a few questions? Why, certainly, darling. About what? Can I ask you a few more questions? I don t mind, darling. Ask away. I think the ring might belong to me. I m sorry I have to ask, but could you describe the ring? Sure thing. It says "Sweet Sixteen". My Dad gave it to me. I think it was the only birthday of mine he remembered, or at least acknowledged. Yes, that s the one. I found it under the sofa when I was vacuuming. Here you are, darling. Thanks. It s not worth much, but it s got a certain...sentimental value for me. It s a very pretty ring. Yeah. Yeah, it is. My Dad never gave me anything pretty, before or since. He must ve won a poker game or something that day. You know what s strange? I don t hate him. He s a bastard, and he treated me like crap almost every single day of my life, but I don t hate him. I feel sorry for him. Why? Because he doesn t know how to love. He can t love anybody or anything. And because he ll be miserable every second of every minute of every day until the day he dies. God, I m glad that life is behind me. I hope I never have to see him again. No, that doesn t sound right. I ve made a choice not to see him again. Ever. I saw this note on the corkboard... Do you have any idea what this means? "Where kids visualize their..." No, sorry. Do you mind if I borrow these matches? Not at all, darling. I don t have any more questions right now. Don t hesitate asking if there s something else you want to know. Thanks for your help, Fiona. You re welcome, darling. Where did you find my ring? Under the sofa, darling. It must have slipped off your finger while you were watching a movie or something. That s strange, because I ve been keeping it in a box in my room. I rarely ever wear it, and I ve never carried it around in my pocket. I m not sure what you mean, darling. What do you think of Cortez? Don t you think he s a little creepy? Oh, he s harmless. That old hippie s been drugged up for fifty years, and he s not likely to come down any time soon. Mickey likes him, but I m not a big fan. But what can I do? He just sits outside the building smoking or reading a book. He doesn t harm anyone. How long has he been around? Oh, I don t know...a year, maybe? He just showed up one day, and he hasn t left since. He never leaves his spot? He sleeps and eats, obviously. And sometimes he goes to some revival cinema uptown. Says that, second to reading, old movies are his greatest passion. What else can you tell me about Cortez? One word I wouldn t use to describe him is "lucid". He s always on about some bollocks idea, and you d never know from listening to him that he s got any sense at all. People say he s quite sharp, though, quite intelligent. Well read, multi-lingual, and he s travelled all over the world, apparently. But still completely bonkers, if you ask me. Tell me about Emma. Emma? Why, she s your best friend, darling. I don t know what to tell you that you don t already know. You girls are so close. That s true. The day we met, we clicked -- instantly. It was strange, but cool. Like me and Mickey, then. Except for the sex, of course. That s a pretty big "except for", Fiona. Oh, I guess so. She s a crazy one, Emma is. Not crazy as in "mad as a hatter", but crazy in a good way. Fun to be around. Emma s always been a little weird. Exactly, darling. She s a flirt, too, and the boys seem to drop like flies at her feet. No wonder. She s a real looker, I don t have to tell you. I m sure she could ve been a model if she d wanted, but she s an artist, and a good one too. I really think she ll be a successful artist. Her sculptures are getting a lot of attention. Anything else you can tell me about Emma? She ought to be a little more careful sometimes. She s a flirt, and although she doesn t mean any harm, some lads don t take too well to being teased and rejected. You should tell her that, being her best friend and all. I have told her. She won t listen. No. She does worry me a little. But she s a big girl and she can take care of herself. I m certainly happy to have her living here. Next to you and Charlie, she s my favorite tenant. What did you think of me when we first met? That s a peculiar question, isn t it? I thought you were quite lovely. I still do, darling. Do you remember the day I arrived? Of course, darling, it wasn t that long ago, and I m not senile quite yet. It was in May, wasn t it? Charlie referred you to me, and you were quite at a loss. First day in the city, wasn t it? I remember, you looked like a lost puppy. Puppy? Me? When I saw you lugging that suitcase across the bridge, my heart went out to you. I m glad you came here -- you d have been lost anywhere else. How long have you known Charlie? Oh, he s one of our oldest tenants. It s close to three years, I believe, since he moved in. Charlie is always in a good mood, and he is such a gentleman. I agree, he s an actual, genuine gentleman. And you don t see a lot of gentlemen these day, trust me. You have a very good friend in him, darling. Perhaps even more than a friend. What do you mean, more than a friend? Not for me to say, darling. If you don t realize it yet, you will. What s up with Zack Lee? Zack? I think we both feel the same way about him, darling. He s not actually a bastard -- if he was, I d ve had him out of here in an instant. But he is an arse, and a stuck up, pompous, arrogant wanker. My thoughts exactly. Aside from that "wanker" bit. Still, he pays his rent on time, he doesn t make a lot of noise, he keeps to himself, and, most importantly, he s shit scared of me. So I can t just kick him out. Tell me a little about yourself, Fiona. Me? Why, there s not much to say, darling. I love my job, I love Venice, and I love being with Mickey. I m a happy girl. Sure, sometimes I wish I could go back to England to see my family, but that s...water under the bridge, so to speak. I m very happy with myself and my life here in Newport. How long have you and Mickey been together? Mickey and I ve been together since I was nineteen. She was in her late thirties then. The older, wiser, worldly woman. I found her sweet and charming and intriguing... When I finally realized she was neither of those things, it was too late -- I was in love (laughs). She stole me away from my dreary, British inner-city life, and she brought me here. She was no knight in shining armor, that s for sure, but she knew how to treat me like a woman. You guys make a great couple. You think so, darling? Yes, I guess we do. And the sex is amazing. You never get tired of talking about your sex-life, do you? Never. And if I ever do, please shoot me. Can you tell me something about the Border House? That s one of my favorite topics, darling. What precisely do you want to know? Tell me some more about the Border House. What precisely do you want to know? What can you tell me about Venice? I don t really know much about the history of Venice. You should really ask someone with an interest in local affairs. What I do know is that this whole neigborhood used to be an industrial area, and that about one hundred years ago they converted most of the buildings into residences for students and the homeless. And it s a nice place to live, certainly. Friendly people, liberal attitudes, great clothing stores...quite perfect, aside from that dreadful stench from the canals in the summertime. What s the story behind my apartment? Your apartment? It s more a room than anything else...not much more than a large closet, really. It s not that small. It s one of our smallest rooms, but it s cheap, and it s on a nice floor. I hope you re happy there. I like it. It s convenient. And it s got a, uh, interesting view. That s nice to hear, darling. As for the story behind it? No unexplained deaths or hidden pirate treasures, I m afraid. Just a long string of students on a tight budget. Do you like Newport? The city? I stay in Venice most of the time, and it s easy to forget we re just a tiny little pocket in the middle of a sprawling urban wasteland. But do I like it? I think Newport is one of the great cities of our age. Love it or hate it, you can t argue with that. And which one is it? Love or hate? I haven t decided yet, darling. Ask me again in another fifteen years, perhaps I have an answer then (laughs). What s Metro Circle like? That s the sleaziest and most perverted neighborhood in Newport. On the negative side, however, it s also a dangerous place to hang out. I wouldn t go there alone if I were you. Thanks for your help, Fiona. You re welcome, darling. What made you decide to run a boarding house? That s a long story. One of the reasons Mickey and I got together was that we shared a passion for the classic English country inns. You know -- quaint, weathered buildings, funny old ladies, and oddly suggestive names like "The Lazy Cock". So why come here, to the big city, to America? We wanted to create a place with a similar atmosphere and hospitality here in Newport. Like a safe-house for people like you and I to call home, if only for a short while. So we discussed different options for a few months, and then we decided we wanted to start a boarding house for young, penniless students and artists. You d decided you wanted to do that here in Venice? We knew that Venice was the place for us, long before we came here, but the hard part was finding a building cheap enough. And this building was available? Not at first. Like most of the buildings in Venice, this one used to be a factory, but when we first looked at it, a local company was planning to turn it into a bar and nightclub. It was so perfect for our purposes, though, that we appealed to the Venice borough council, and after outlining our plans, they gave us the go-ahead at a reduced price -- provided we kept our promises regarding our tenants. What inspired the name " Border House"? That came quite naturally when we saw the place. It s on the border between two worlds, isn t it? Between Venice and the city itself. And at the same time, I also believe we re on the border between two more abstract worlds. Between art and spirit on the one hand, and science and technology on the other. That s very poetic, Fiona. Yes, I ve practiced. I may be an inner city girl, but I can philosophize and bullshit with the best of them. Do you and Mickey own the place together? We own it together, yes, and we ve shared the responsibilities between us. Mickey takes care of the maintenance of the building, I busy myself with the administrative tasks. I also take care of the day-to-day management of our tenants, like deciding whether or not to let someone rent a room. And, of course, the unpleasant business of booting someone out. I thought you enjoyed that part. Yes, all right, in some cases, I do. But not always. It can get quite messy. Thanks for the information. I m glad I could help you out, darling. Good morning! Anything interesting going on outside? Did your tongue stick to the window pane again, Fiona? Did you ever question your own sanity, April? I mean, did you ever wonder if you were going mad? Please tell me last night was a dream, April. Definitely. I m quite certain I am insane. No, never. Never? You never saw anything that challenged your perception of reality, that defied everything you know, everything you ve ever been taught? If you re asking me if I ve seen things I can t explain? Then, sure, yeah, I have. Then explain to me -- how do you deal with it? Do you lock it away inside yourself, or do you talk to someone about it? Because I m at a loss here, April. I don t know what to do. Then explain to me -- how do you deal with it? Do you lock it away inside yourself, or do you talk to someone about it? Because I m at a loss here, April. I don t know what to do. I m not trying to amuse you, April. I m really serious. Sorry. Yeah. Yeah, I have felt like that. Many times. Then explain to me -- how do you deal with it? Do you lock it away inside yourself, or do you talk to someone about it? Because I m at a loss here, April. I don t know what to do. You have to give me more to go on than that. I locked it away. I d talk to someone about it. That s what I figured. It s not something you can just stow away and forget about. What I saw... I won t ever be able to forget that, real or not. How is that possible? Doesn t it tear you apart, knowing you might be losing your mind? I d just...write it down, perhaps. Translate my emotions into words, write them down in my diary, close it, lock it away. I couldn t do that. I can t do that. I need to find...I don t know how to say this. Peace? Knowledge that there might be another answer, that madness isn t the reason why I saw what I saw? I don t know how I can put it into words. What I saw... Last night -- right here, in this room -- Mickey and I, we were watching a movie... A documentary about the new, synthetic rain forests in Mexico... What did you see? But I m digressing... Anyway, about halfway through the movie -- like I said, I m probably going completely bonkers -- this room became a...a... It was more like a vision, really. And I m sure it wasn t holographic... What? It was like the forest came out of the Screen and into the room, like being in the middle of a Holotheater, but with added resolution, hallucinogenic effects...and...and smells. Did anyone else see this? Mickey did, but she refuses to speak of it. Says it was just our imagination acting up. Which leaves me wondering how long it ll take before I end up in a mental institution. You know, the ones that produce eight times the oxygen of the original organic forests? This room turned into a forest. What kind of vision? It only lasted for a few seconds, and then it all just...disappeared. I ve heard about-- I don t think you re going crazy. I ve been seeing strange things lately too. Something equally weird happened at the caf・last night. Yeah? Thanks, darling. But I still wish there was some explanation for what I saw. Like what? What was that? Last night, at the caf・-- right in front of everybody -- this creature appeared out of thin air. Just like your forest. It was only there for a few seconds, and then it disappeared, but everybody saw it. Everybody. Oh my. What s going on, love? I don t scare easily, but this is really getting to me. Don t know. But whatever it is, I think -- I m pretty sure -- Cortez is involved. Cortez? How is he involved? I don t know that either. I d love to find out, though. It was a dream. It wasn t a dream. I don t know what it was. I know it couldn t have been, because both you and Mickey... You were both there, and you saw what I saw, didn t you? I know it wasn t. And since both you and Mickey... Since the both of you saw what I saw, it can t have been a hallucination either. I wish there was an explanation, but both you and Mickey... We all saw the same thing, didn t we? Not a dream, not a hallucination, but what? Weird things have been happening lately. I have noticed. This isn t the first time. I have to get going. Take care of yourself out there, darling. What other weird things have happened lately? Little things. Like movement in the corner of your eye that s gone when you turn your head. And noises, the kind you re not supposed to hear in the city. Animal noises. Wild animals. And once -- this was very early in the morning, mind, a few days ago -- I looked down into the canal and saw what looked like an underwater city. But as I looked at it it dissolved into ripples of water. Have you seen Cortez today? No, darling. I don t think he s around. Any idea where Cortez might be? Like I told you, darling, I wouldn t know. Ask Zack. Scary. And you re telling me, darling? I m scared of cockroaches, for God s sake. What do you think this does to my nerves? What s Metro Circle like? That s the sleaziest and most perverted neighborhood in Newport. On the negative side, however, it s also a dangerous place to hang out. I wouldn t go there alone if I were you. Hi. Yes? Do you have any idea where Cortez is? Could you tell Cortez I m looking for him? Sorry. He could be anywhere. Well, he does enjoy going uptown to watch old movies in some revival cinema. But where that is, I wouldn t know. Certainly, darling. If I happen to see him. Thanks. Who d know? Perhaps Zack. He is, after all, the self-appointed film expert around here. You should talk to him, darling. Great. Zack. My very best friend in the whole wide world. We have a nice view of the bridges from this window. It s a reproduction of an early Lebowski. Not a particular favorite of mine, but there you are. Venice. It s an early Lebowski. You know, that really freaks me out when I think about it. More fans. Proper air-conditioning was apparently never a viable alternative for the contractor. It s a chair. That s a plasma cushion. As in the, "Once you sit down you don t wanna get up!" official plasma cushions. It should really be, "Once you sit down there s no way you can get up". Not without a helping hand, anyway. They really knew how to design tacky furniture back in the late twenty-second century. Emma picked this table up at a flea market for ten dollars last month. That s nine dollars more than it s worth. It s supposed to be a coffee-table. Shelves. That s Fiona, my landlady. She s all right. It s our Screen. The omnipresent Screen... I don t pretend to know how it works, but all the data apparently passes through tiny little black holes in the fabric of our dimension. It gets real hot in Newport during the summer, so it s a good thing we have these fans to keep the temperature down. Or, at least, that s the intention. It s a plasma cushion. It s Fiona. It s a matchbook. Mickey s not usually the sit-in-front-of-the-Screen type of gal. Unlike Fiona, she s always working on something around the house. I guess that s why they re such a great couple. Mickey. I should talk to her first. She seems preoccupied. Emma! What s going on here? April, run! Get out of here! Why? What s the-- Emma, who s this man? Tell me what s going on! Who are you? What do you want? Run, April! Now! I wouldn t listen to her if I were you. Move over there. I said move! He is just following orders, Miss Ryan. He is just a servant. My servant. I was hoping you would join our little...party. You are a difficult person to find, miss Ryan. A very difficult person to find. What are you doing to my friends? If you cooperate? Nothing. Nothing permanent, at any rate. But if you make this any harder than it has to be, I will have your friends shot. All of them. What do you w-- Do I know you? I know you. I ve seen your face somewhere. My name is Halloway. Gordon Halloway. I work for Jacob McAllen, who I am certain you have heard of, yes? He runs the Church of Voltec, also known as the Vanguard? He has been insisting on meeting you, Miss Ryan. Of course, we were not sure who you were at first, but we knew we would find you in Venice. You did give us a run for our money, I must admit. Your Shift a week ago today made it a lot easier, but then you decided to stay out of town for a while. Smart. Coming back, though, was rather stupid. What do you want from me? How did you find me? Where s Cortez? We want you. And what you carry with you. We have our...connections, in Arcadia. We know of your journey north -- good job on our friend Mister Klacks, by the way. Good job. Very impressive. Unfortunately, we lost track of you once you set out to sea. The Tyren are not very comfortable with water, and so there was no chance of sending anyone after you. Of course, not to mention the fine work you did on that Gribbler creature. She was not very cooperative, she just refused to listen to reason, but she was a twisted old girl, and we respected that. However, with your good fortune and...shall we say, good breeding, I am certain you brought some valuable items back with you, hmm? I would expect no less from a bright and industrious girl such as yourself. So -- give me what you have, and let us be done with this nasty business. I will let your friends go, and then you and I will go on a little...trip. Oh, we have our methods. The eyes that see, the ears that hear -- our impressive technology helps, of course. And Mister McAllen is not a bad magician. He can sense things. Besides, you have not been particularly covert, have you? I mean, the job you did in the police archives was messy. Very messy. Footprints all over it. Not your footprints, certainly, but footprints. That poor sod...Mister Minnelli, was it? It took us eight painful hours to get a confession, and then it turns out he actually knew nothing about it. Did...did you kill him? Certainly not! He has proven useful in the past. No, a little mental laundry, and this nasty business is behind him. We even cleaned up a few...unfortunate childhood memories while we were at it. Cortez? He has been...disposed of. He was meddling. Not at all acceptable behavior from a man of his stature. He simply had to go. He kept telling all the secrets, and that is not how we play this game. All right, release my friends and you will get what I have. There s nothing I have that you could possibly want. No way, I m not giving you anything! Leave that decision to me, Miss Ryan. Just hand it all over, and we can let these fine people return to their pathetic little lives. You have caused them enough pain, yes? Very well. Shoot...that one. You are a very intelligent woman, Miss Ryan. But first, we still need to teach you and your friends a lesson. Shoot...that one. Still, we need to teach you and your friends a lesson. Shoot...that one. What the hell is going on?
https://w.atwiki.jp/asay3/pages/11.html
このページはhttp //www.geocities.jp/autosu/person/0001.htmlからの引用です Asada Mao - Topics May 23, 2009 May 6, 2009 Her source of energy She does a dynamic movement on the ice link. She keep movingthere toward the end of a performance when one is getting exhausted out. Whatdrives her that way? Its secret is in her food. Ando Miki, a fellow athlete,said, I always see Mao go to a chophouse. Mao s favorite food is roasted meatand kimuchi. Eating much roasted meat seems her source of remarkableenergy. May 3, 2009 Mao s pet dog Asada Mao has a toypoodle called Earo, her petdog. The dog was adopted for a stuffed toy for sale. She has once performedwith Earo in her arms on an ice show. Apr 30, 2009 Asada Mao is going to fly to Moscow soon. She llcompose a new performance program under Tatiana Tarasova, hercoach. Will this program be for Olympics next year? How will triple axels herweapon be set in it, is an interesting point. Because using a triple axel couldcut both ways. Triple axel is a diffcult technique, so a performer doesn t doit successfully often. When it fails, it means being down-graded big. And ofcourse when it gets through, it brings about high marks. Apr 29, 2009 Asada Mao said in her latest interview that itmade her feel refreshed to have time with young people of her age in Universitywhere she d entered this spring. She had have rare opportunites of mixing withpeople about her age since she started her figure skater s life. Apr 26, 2009 What is Axel? In an Axel, a skater jumps with a forward take-off. Apr 25, 2009 Triple Axel Triple Axel is Asada Mao s strong point. She didone even as a junior. And her problem with it is how to make her jumping TripleAxels more stable and successful, since they re not so. Unless she couldincrease the probability of doing those successful jumps, she d never be likelyto reach the top in Olympics in Canada early next year. Apr 23, 2009 What does she learn inUniversity? She entered Chukyo University this spring located in AichiPrefecture. She s learning in its Physical Training Dept. It has a skating ringfor training within the campus. Apr 22, 2009 What s Mao s favorite food? She likes roated beef. She goes to a grillade very often. Shesays, My physical stamina comes from roated beef, and chili. Apr 21, 2009 Mao scored 201. In ISU World Team Trophy 2009, Asada Mao got topscore in single among the women. She got a score above 200, that is first timefor her all her career as a player. She did a triple axel with success in short program, and triedthe jump twice in long program, too. The first one was successful, but the nextone was downgraded by judges. 全国特選情報 Copyright(c) 2008 全国の地域情報 All rightsreserved Related links to get more knowledge of Asada Mao ISU FourContinents 2009 Wikipedia Chukyo University
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The TearJerker / ティアジャーカー The Enforcer / エンフォーサー The ThunderVolt II / サンダーボルトII The Fab Turismo / ファブツーリズモ The CharBroiler / チャーブロイラー The SilverScale / シルバースケイル The MadishMobile / マディッシュモバイル The Crusher / クラッシャー The HeartBreaker / ハートブレイカー The Chili Chopper / チリチョッパー The MudSkipper / マッドスキッパー Le Punch Buggy / パンチバギー The Brass Bolt / ブラスボルト The ZipCodester / ジップコードスター The Party Sub / パーティーサブ The Dynamobile XS / ダイナモバイルXS The JetSetter / ジェットセッター The BankRoller / バンクローラー The SoothSlayer / スーススレイヤー The Rust Runner / ラストランナー The Preserver / プレサーバー The Willow’s Wisp / ウィローズ・ウィスプ The Road Block / ロードブロック The GigaRover / ギガローバー The SamuRide / サムライド The TearJerker / ティアジャーカー 今週の展示はサージ・ファンのために造られたティアジャーカーという名のカスタムカートです。 このカートはくさび形デザインとオニオンリングのリーダー、サージのしかめっ面が特徴です。 This weeks exhibit is a custom kart created for Sarge Fan named The TearJerker. The kart is a wedge design and features the grimacing face of Sarge, leader of the Onion Ring. The Enforcer / エンフォーサー This weeks exhibit is a custom kart created for Hank named The Enforcer. The kart is a box design and features a blue and red flashing spoiler for when Hank is in hot pursuit of the finish line. The ThunderVolt II / サンダーボルトII This week’s exhibit is a custom kart created for Akari named The ThunderVolt II. The kart is a wedge design and features duel external side exhausts and a nitro booster. It is named and modeled after Akari’s motorcycle, the original ThunderVolt. The Fab Turismo / ファブツーリズモ This week’s exhibit is a custom kart created for Foodini named The Fab Turismo. The kart is a box design with shimmering gold metallic paint and a matching bow-tie grille. The CharBroiler / チャーブロイラー This week’s exhibit is a custom kart created for Ember named The CharBroiler. The kart is a heavy-duty box design with steel plated reinforcements. Although slow to start, once it’s cruising at top speeds, the CharBroiler can”t be stopped. The SilverScale / シルバースケイル This week’s exhibit is a custom kart created for Wally named The SilverScale. The kart is a sleek wedge design covered with a scaly surface. The tailpipe emits a fowl smell of fish to discourage any racers from drafting Wally’s wake. The MadishMobile / マディッシュモバイル This week’s exhibit is a custom kart created for Radlynn named The MadishMobile. The kart is a sleek wedge design with an uncanny resemblance to one of Radley Madish’s wild radishes. It has a powerful engine that offsets the incredible drag made by its leafy spoiler (a feature that Radlynn was insistent upon). The Crusher / クラッシャー Not many people know this but during the events of Papa Louie 2 When Burgers Attack, Wendy was one of the many customers taken hostage by Sarge and Radley Madish. She was held in Fort Onion and tasked with building a tank for Sarge called the Crusher. Sarge was so thrilled with the design that he sent Wendy back to Maple Mountain. Little did he know, Wendy purposefully built it larger than the garage door. When it came time to defend the fort, Sarge wasn’t able to get The Crusher out without bringing down the whole fort. A furious Sarge was unprepared for battle without his tank, and was quickly overthrown by Papa’s loyal customers. The HeartBreaker / ハートブレイカー This week’s exhibit is a custom kart created for Scarlett named The HeartBreaker. The kart is a classic box design with a ruby red paint job and three layers of clear coat. One should highly avoid bumping into this kart. A single scratch upon the HeartBreaker will whip Scarlett into a revenge-fueled fit of road rage. The Chili Chopper / チリチョッパー This week’s exhibit is a custom kart created for Rico named The Chili Chopper. The kart is a chunky wedge design modeled after Rico’s beloved motorcycle. In lieu of his cycle’s side car, Wendy built this kart with an extra deep trunk to haul many cans of Rico’s Chili. Just beware of tailing too close to The Chili Chopper, as an errant can could easily topple out of the kart’s trunk. The MudSkipper / マッドスキッパー This week’s exhibit is a custom kart created for Daniela named The MudSkipper. The kart is a heavy-duty box design with removable doors for quick entry. The MudSkipper was designed to go off-roading and offers excellent control over slick surfaces. The kart is capable of maintaining its speed even when it accidentally veers off course. Le Punch Buggy / パンチバギー This week’s exhibit is a custom kart created for LePete named Le Punch Buggy. The kart is a curved roadster design modeled after infamous boxer from Munchmore, Luau LePunch. Le Punch Buggy has excellent VSA and traction control allowing it to weave and dodge obstacles at break-neck speeds. The Brass Bolt / ブラスボルト This week’s exhibit is a custom kart created for Skyler named The Brass Bolt. The kart is a welded barrel design that incorporates a modified steam engine to propel Skyler down the track. Although it is slow to start, The Brass Bolt picks up steam quickly and is soon cruising at race-winning speed. The ZipCodester / ジップコードスター This week’s exhibit is a custom kart created for Vincent named The ZipCodester. The kart is a reliable box design based off of Vincent’s favorite mail truck. The ZipCodester was constructed with an emphasis on durability rather than speed. This translates to less pit-stops during the race and fewer visits to the Greasy Gear Garage. The Party Sub / パーティーサブ This week’s exhibit is a custom kart created for Olivia named The Party Sub. The kart is a sturdy box design inspired by Olivia’s favorite snackimals, the Party Subs. Hidden beneath the fake lettuce on the front and back of the kart are hitch attachments. This allows multiple karts to connect to each other and form a massive, rolling, conga-line. All current kart owners who are interested this feature can stop by the Greasy Gear Garage for a complimentary upgrade. The Dynamobile XS / ダイナモバイルXS This week’s exhibit is a custom kart stolen by The Dynamoe named The Dynamobile XS. The kart was initially ordered online by someone claiming to be Georgito. The down payment cleared, and Wendy got to work following the very specific instructions laid out by the buyer. When she had nearly finished the kart, she happened to run into Georgito at Papa’s Pancakeria and asked him if he wanted to check out the kart. Strangely enough, Georgito had absolutely no idea what Wendy was talking about. When she returned to the Greasy Gear Garage, she was aghast to find the shop had been broken into and the kart was nowhere to be found. The JetSetter / ジェットセッター This week’s exhibit is a custom kart created for Ivy named The JetSetter. The kart is a curved roadster design inspired by the airplane featured in the many Travel Trout commercials. When the JetSetter hits a ramp just right, it can glide through the air for a short period of time, avoiding obstacles and keeping up the pace. The BankRoller / バンクローラー This week’s exhibit is a custom kart created for Georgito named The BankRoller. After suffering a brief episode of identity-theft at the hands of the Dynamoe, Georgito visited The Greasy Gear Garage. His interest was peaked at the thought of owning his own kart and commissioned Wendy to make a legitimate one for himself. The Bankroller is a beautiful 14-karat gold kart. Although it is crammed with the most expensive hardware available, the kart’s overall performance is relatively average. The SoothSlayer / スーススレイヤー This week’s exhibit is a custom kart created for Crystal named The The SoothSlayer. The kart is a futuristic wedge design modeled after Crystals own vision of how her forthcoming kart would look like. The SoothSlayer comes equipped with collision detection and lane departure warnings, features that Crystal claims are overly redundant giving her superior foresightfulness. The Rust Runner / ラストランナー This week’s exhibit is a custom kart created for Cletus named The Rust Runner. The kart is a reclaimed roadster design using sections of many different karts. Cletus was anxious to have a kart of his own and hauled over a bunch of old parts that he salvaged from his scrap yard. Although reluctant at first, Wendy agreed to build this frankensteined kart at a discounted price. The Preserver / プレサーバー This week’s exhibit is a custom kart created for Nick named The Preserver. The kart is a rubberized box design inspired by Nick’s favorite past-time, white water rafting. The kart’s frame is incased in an inflatable rubber shell that can absorb the majority of bumps encountered along the road. The Willow’s Wisp / ウィローズ・ウィスプ This week’s exhibit is a custom kart created for Willow appropriately named The Willow’s Wisp. The kart is a ghostly wedge design with aerodynamic rear bat wings. The Willow’s Wisp is built out of carbon fiber making it super-light weight and fast. The kart seemingly floats across the road as it breezes between lanes and obstacles. The Road Block / ロードブロック This week’s exhibit is a custom kart created for Johnny named The Road Block. The kart is a hand-carved box design using quality northern white cedar. The tree was personally chopped down by Johnny and carved using a precision chainsaw. The Road Block and a surprisingly well-rounded kart for being made of wood. However the kart’s upkeep is extensive with weekly oiling and keeping it out of the rain. The GigaRover / ギガローバー 今週の展示は、フィッツ教授のために制作されたカスタムカート「ギガローバー」です。 ギガローフ・ラボの最新ガジェットを搭載したハイテクウェッジデザインのカートです。 ギガローバーは、特許出願中の自動運転技術「ギガドライブ」を搭載しています。 しかし、油膜、歩行者、ガム、カーブ、他のカートに遭遇すると、システムは混乱してしまいます。 そのため、フィッツ教授は安全のために、常にハンドルから手を離しません。 This week’s exhibit is a custom kart created for Professor Fitz named The GigaRover. The kart is a high-tech wedge design equipped with the latest gadgets from Gigaloaf Labs. The GigaRover is equipped with the patent-pending GigaDrive self driving technology. However the system gets confused when encountering oil-slicks, pedestrians, chewing gum, road curves, and other karts. So, just to be safe, Professor Fitz always keeps his hands on the wheel. The SamuRide / サムライド 今週の展示は、ニンジョイのために制作されたカスタムカート「サムライド」です。 このカートは夜間の物陰に紛れて進めるように、薄型の箱型デザインになっています。 サムライドは革新的な電動モーターにより、静かに路上を走行します。 This week’s exhibit is a custom kart created for Ninjoy named The SamuRide. The kart is a low-profile box design built to cruise amongst the shadows at night. The SamuRide roles silently down the road thanks to an innovatively powerful, electric motor.
https://w.atwiki.jp/novelaidiffusion/pages/11.html
トップページ チュートリアル Q&A Novel AI Diffusionの使い方 使い方ログイン 課金する 画像生成を行う ちょっと凝った設定をする 次はどこを見れば？ コメント Novel AI Diffusionの使い方 ここのサイトのこと↓ https //novelai.net/image 使い方 課金しないと画像生成は不可です。 ログイン アカウントを作ってログインします ログイン後設定画面を開きます 課金する 歯車を押して Manageをクリックして課金Tierを選択。 画像生成を行う 画像生成を選択 「Upload Image」に生成元にしたい画像を入れて、prompt部分に生成呪文（絵のタグ）を入れます。最後にGenerateを押す ちょっと凝った設定をする まずSettingでNAI Diffusion Anime(Full)を選択。 プロンプトに「white leotard ,long hair,blonde hair,white thighhighs ,blue eyes,detached sleeves,blue skirt,frilled skirt,lace skirt,intricate lace,intricate wrinkle,ultra-detailed frill,ultra-detailed hair,{{{white lily on head}}},frilled thighhighs,hair ornament ,o-ring ,turtleneck,white apron,maid headdress,gold button,long black ribbon on breast,medium breasts,wavy_hair,wind,much bubble particle,{{orange anemone fish}},intricate wave,{{masterpiece}}, {{{best quality}}}, {{ultra-detailed}}, {{illustration}}, cinematic lighting, {{caustic}}, lens flare,beautiful detailed glow,dynamic angle,depth of field,light_leaks,Amazing,finely detail,extremely detailed CG,Original,{{8k_wallpaper}},beautiful detailed water,floating,detailed wet clothes,water drop,wet,see-through,hidden hands,cute face,expressionless,幼稚園児,loli,earring,straggling hair,highres,ahoge」を貼り付けてGenerate。 すると こんな感じで絵が出力されます。 次はどこを見れば？ 細かく自分でシチュエーションを指定してみたい場合は 生成呪文（プロンプト）を見ると良いでしょう。 とりあえず神作品を生み出してみたい場合は展覧会を見てみると良いでしょう。 コメント novel AIで作成しているstoryの中に挿絵を埋め込むことはできないんですかねえ -- 名無しさん (2022-10-10 10 19 04) 名前 コメント