Cartboy Goes to Camp by L. A. Campbell Page B

reached the clearing just as Theo and some of the other counselors finished spreading out the rope.
    Half of it was on one side of a line. Half of it on the other.
    â€œWhoever goes over the line first loses,” said one of the counselors. He straightened out the rest of the rope, then stood to the side, next to the families and the other campers who had gathered in the clearing.
    â€œGood luck, Hal.”
    I turned to see Cora standing next to me.
    â€œI really hope you win.”
    CLANK!
    â€œWhat was that noise?” she asked.
    â€œNothing.”
    CLANK CLANK
    She looked down at my shirt and pants. “It sounded like metal…”
    â€œOh, um, that’s my belt. Buckle. Yeah, it’s pretty loose. Gotta go fix it. See ya!”
    I walked through the crowd of kids and families and ended up right next to Mr. Prentice.
    He was getting ready to announce the tug-of-war. And figure out which cabins would compete against each other.
    â€œHear ye. Hear ye,” he said. “As many of ye know, the game tug-of-war was very special to the Jamestown settlers. Why? Well, times were tough. Tug-of-war was a way to let off steam.”
    He lifted one end of the rope. “The settlers played tug-of-war because they had plenty of rope from the ships. Anyone could participate. And of course, the zip line had not yet been invented.”
    Mr. Prentice chuckled at his joke for a good five minutes before he pulled himself together. He picked up a Pilgrim hat and held it up for everyone to see.
    â€œEach cabin shall pick a colored piece of paper from this hat. Matching colors will compete against each other. Cabin One, please step up.”
    Ryan Horner stepped forward, reached into the hat, and pulled out a piece of paper.
    â€œGreen!” Mr. Prentice shouted. “Cabin two, ye shall pick next.”
    Mr. Prentice held the hat toward me. I reached in, grabbed a piece of the paper, and held it up for him to see.
    â€œGreen!”

    â€œIt is decided, then. Cabin One against Cabin Two. Ye shall go first!”
    â€œBut, Mr. Prentice,” I said. “Ryan and Billy and their bunkmates are huge. Way huger than us. It’s unfair!”
    â€œâ€™Tis no more unfair, Mr. Rifkind, than having to harvest nonexistent crops during a bitter cold winter.” He took a step toward me. “Achhh. In these dang shoes.”

    Vinny, Scot, Perth, and I took our places on the rope across from Ryan, Billy, and the other two gigantors from Cabin 1.
    On the sidelines, my mom was waving like crazy, and Grampa Janson gave me two thumbs up. “Go Cabin Two!” they yelled.

    Mr. Prentice lifted the gourd high in the air. “On your mark…”
    I looked at the gourd, then turned to face Ryan, who was staring daggers right through me. “Where are my pearls, Cartboy?” he said. And then, before I could answer, “You are going down.”
    Mr. Prentice lifted the gourd higher. “Get set!”
    I quickly reached in my underwear to secure the shovel and the flashlight. Then I steeled myself on the rope.
    And then came Mr. Prentice’s last command. “Goeth!”
    Right away, Vinny, Scot, Perth, and I started pulling. And pulling. And grunting. And sweating. And clanging.
    While we were pulling, the strangest thing happened: We were actually holding our own.
    Ryan and Billy and their bunkmates were holding on to their side of the rope. But they weren’t pulling hard. In fact, they didn’t seem to be pulling at all.
    What were they doing? Was Ryan going to let us win? Did he feel guilty about the desserts? Had seeing my family changed his mind about being so mean to me?
    That must be it!
    â€œOkay, guys,” I said to my team. “Hang in there and pull. We have this in the bag—”
    That’s when I saw Ryan turn to his bunkmates, move his lips, and form one tiny little word: “HEAVE!”
    And then, before we could do anything,