SOCKS. And not just any socks. LONG socks. THICK socks. HOT socks. Socks that had no business being dragged up the legs of any normal person on a day like this.
Camp counselor Amy Jessup was a little worried.
The kids at Outdoor Action Camp were cool. Fashionable. They had the latest footwear and funky, messy haircuts. One of the girls even had a tattoo, it was rumored (although others claimed it was just a lick-and-stick job out of a fashion magazine).
Looking at them, there was no doubt, thought Amy, that they were up-to-the-minute twenty-first century kids.
âSo whatâs with the 1950s Boy Scout SOCKS?â she murmured, aloud, staring at Josh and Dannyand Charlie, the girl always getting into mischief.
While all the other kids had got rid of their shoes and were wearing surfer-style sandals or flip-flopsâor going barefootâthese three were all wearing long gray socks, pulled up to their knees, and heavy hiking boots. And they werenât going anywhere near the lake or the shallow, winding river where so much fun was being had in the hot sun with dinghies and rafts. Instead, they were huddled under a large oak tree, whispering together.
âWhat are you three up to?â called out Amy as she strode toward them. âDonât you want to play in the water? Itâs a perfect day for it . . . Iâm surprised youâre not eager to get your feet wet!â
âUmmm,â said Josh, while Danny and Charlie plastered wide grins across their faces so fast, Amy was even more suspicious.
âYeah, well . . . actually,â said Josh, scratching his short, tufty, fair hair nervously. âWe were wondering about building a tree houseâup there!â He pointed up into the impossibly high branches of the oak tree.
âJosh, youâd need mountaineering gear to get up this one.â Amy laughed. She was nice, sturdy, and jolly with her wavy, brown hair always in a ponytail, and everyone at Outdoor Action Camp liked her.
âOKâwell go and find a better tree!â said Charlie with a bright smile, and she grabbed Joshâs and Dannyâs arms and tugged them away while Amy shook her head and shrugged. Kids. Weird. In so many ways.
And these three were weirder than most. As soon as they got around the far side of a smallclump of holly bushes, Josh, Danny, and Charlie sat down and sighed. âLetâs look again,â said Charlie after a few seconds. âIt might have worn off a bit.â
They all rolled their long gray knee socks down to their boots. It looked as if theyâd all recently smacked their ankles with bats. The skin was greeny-brown, as if it were covered in a massive bruise. A bit weird.
Danny unlaced his boots first and pulled them off with a groan of relief. Then the rolled-down socks followed, allowing his poor cramped feet to spread out. Soon all three had their boots off and weird just went right off the super-weird-of-allweirdness scale.
All of them had perfectly formed frogsâ feet.
Josh flexed his webbed toes. âAaaah, thatâs better.â
âHow long is this going to go on?â asked Charlie, anxiously chewing on one of her many beaded dark plaits. âWe canât hide these forever. These boots are killing me. Why canât I just wear my rain boots? Thereâs more room!â
âWeâre trying not to stand out, remember?â Josh sighed. âOn a hot, dry day, we can just about explain socks and ankle boots . . . but rain boots? I donât think so.â
âAnd I SOOOOO want to get them wet,â moaned Charlie, her shiny green flippers waggling up and down. âThey belong in water! Canât we just creep into the river and have a little paddle? Itâll be lovely and cool and sloshy and slippy . . .â
âAnd funny and strange and then shouty and screamy,â pointed out Danny. âAnd then doctory and ambulancey and FREAK SHOWY!â
âFair point,â
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