Stanley’s mother insists that there never was a curse. She even doubts whether Stanley’s great-great-grandfather really stole a pig. The reader might find it interesting, however, that Stanley’s father invented his cure for foot odor the day after the great-great- grandson of Elya Yelnats carried the great-great-great-grandson of Madame Zeroni up the mountain.
The Attorney General closed Camp Green Lake. Ms. Walker, who was in desperate need of money, had to sell the land which had been in her family for generations. It was bought by a national organization dedicated to the well-being of young girls. In a few years, Camp Green Lake will become a Girl Scout camp.
This is pretty much the end of the story. The reader probably still has some questions, but unfortunately, from here on in, the answers tend to be long and tedious. While Mrs. Bell, Stanley’s former math teacher, might want to know the percent change in Stanley’s weight, the reader probably cares more about the change in Stanley’s character and self-confidence. But those changes are subtle and hard to measure. There is no simple answer.
Even the contents of the suitcase turned out to be somewhat tedious. Stanley’s father pried it open in his workshop, and at first everyone gasped at the sparkling jewels. Stanley thought he and
Hector had become millionaires. But the jewels were of poor quality, worth no more than twenty thousand dollars.
Underneath the jewels was a stack of papers that had once belonged to the first Stanley Yelnats. These consisted of stock certificates, deeds of trust, and promissory notes. They were hard to read and even more di cult to understand. Ms. Morengo’s law firm spent more than two months going through all the papers.
They turned out to be a lot more valuable than the jewels. After legal fees and taxes, Stanley and Zero each received less than a million dollars.
But not a lot less.
It was enough for Stanley to buy his family a new house, with a laboratory in the basement, and for Hector to hire a team of private investigators.
But it would be boring to go through all the tedious details of all the changes in their lives. Instead, the reader will be presented with one last scene, which took place almost a year and a half after Stanley and Hector left Camp Green Lake.
You will have to fill in the holes yourself.
There was a small party at the Yelnats house. Except for Stanley and Hector, everyone there was an adult. All kinds of snacks and drinks were set out on the counter, including caviar, champagne, and the fixings to make ice cream sundaes.
The Super Bowl was on television, but nobody was really watching.
“It should be coming on at the next break,” Ms. Morengo announced.
A time-out was called in the football game, and a commercial came on the screen.
Everyone stopped talking and watched.
The commercial showed a baseball game. Amid a cloud of dust, Clyde Livingston slid into home plate as the catcher caught the ball and tried to tag him out.
“Safe!” shouted the umpire as he signaled with his arms.
The people at Stanley’s house cheered, as if the run really counted.
Clyde Livingston got up and dusted the dirt off his uniform. As he made his way back to the dugout, he spoke to the camera. “Hi, I’m Clyde Livingston, but everyone around here calls me ‘Sweet Feet.’ ”
“Way to go, Sweet Feet!” said another baseball player, slapping his hand.
Besides being on the television screen, Clyde Livingston was also sitting on the couch next to Stanley.
“But my feet weren’t always sweet,” the television Clyde Livingston said as he sat down on the dugout bench. “They used to smell so bad that nobody would sit near me in the dugout.”
“They really did stink,” said the woman sitting on the couch on the other side of Clyde. She held her nose with one hand, and fanned the air with the other.
Clyde shushed her.
“Then a teammate told me about Sploosh,” said the television Clyde. He pulled a can of Sploosh out from under the dugout bench and held it up for everyone to see. “I just spray a little on each foot every morning, and now I really do have sweet feet. Plus, I like the tingle.”
“Sploosh,” said a voice. “A treat for your feet. Made from all natural ingredients, it neutralizes odor-causing fungi and bacteria. Plus, you’ll like the tingle.”
Everyone at the party clapped their hands.
“He wasn’t lying,” said the woman who sat next to Clyde. “I couldn’t even be in the same room with his socks.”
The other people at the party laughed.
The woman continued. “I’m not joking. It was so bad—”
“You’ve made your point,” said Clyde, covering her mouth with his hand. He looked back at Stanley. “Will you do me a favor, Stanley?”
Stanley raised and lowered his left shoulder.
“I’m going to get more caviar,” said Clyde. “Keep your hand over my wife’s mouth.” He patted Stanley on the shoulder as he rose from the couch.
Stanley looked uncertainly at his hand, then at Clyde Livingston’s wife.
She winked at him.
He felt himself blush, and turned away toward Hector, who was sitting on the floor in front of an overstuffed chair.
A woman sitting in the chair behind Hector was absent-mindedly flu ng his hair with her fingers. She wasn’t very old, but her skin had a weathered look to it, almost like leather. Her eyes seemed weary, as if she’d seen too many things in her life that she didn’t want to see. And when she smiled, her mouth seemed too big for her face.
Very softly, she half sang, half hummed a song that her grandmother used to sing to her when she was a little girl.
If only, if only, the moon speaks no reply; Reflecting the sun and all that’s gone by.
Be strong my weary wolf, turn around boldly.
Fly high, my baby bird, My angel, my only
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What’s the matter? It’s too hot? You’re tired of digging? Your muscles ache? Your hands have blisters? Your feet have blisters? Your blisters have blisters? The shovels are too long? The showers are too short? Your cot is hard and lumpy? The food is hard and lumpy?
Well, guess what? Everyone else has been there longer than you have. They were sleeping on their hard, lumpy cots, getting up at four-thirty in the morning, and digging five-foot holes under a blazing sun while you were lying on a couch, watching cartoons, and eating Froot Loops. No one wants to hear your complaints. No one likes a whiner.
After a while your hands will harden. Your muscles will harden. Your head will harden. Your soul will harden.
Everyone suffers equally. You’re all in this together. Race, skin color, the grades you got at school, whether you were one of the popular kids; none of that matters. You will earn the respect of the others by doing your job without grumbling. No it’s-not-fair’s. No I-don’t-belong-here’s. But don’t go overboard the other way, either. You don’t want to wake up every morning singing “Zip-A-Dee-Doo-Dah.”
You have finished digging your hole and are returning to the camp compound when you hear a rattling noise. You look down to see a large snake coiled in front of you. Its forked tongue darts in and out between two large fangs as its cold eyes stare at you. You should:
A: Say, “It isn’t fair. This question comes after section three, and the part on rattlesnakes isn’t until section ten.”
B: Carefully study the snake, making note of its markings and the shape of its head. Measure its width and length. This is important because when you report it to the proper authorities, you will know what you are talking about and won’t sound like a blubbering idiot.
C: Hit it with your shovel, or, better yet, put down your shovel and fight it bare-handed. After all, you’re the meanest and toughest kid at Camp Green Lake, and no overgrown worm is going to disrespect you!
D: Pretend it isn’t there and just keep walking as you whistle “Zip-A- Dee-Doo-Dah.”
E: Try to make friends with the snake, and explain in a soothing voice that you have no intention of harming it. Gently pat its head as you tell it that even though you are a criminal, you have a good heart.
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A is incorrect. While at Camp Green Lake, you will have to make all kinds of life-or-death decisions, ready or not.
B is incorrect. There are no proper authorities at Camp Green Lake.
C is incorrect. There is always someone meaner and tougher than you are.
D is incorrect. You can pretend the snake isn’t there, but the snake will not pretend you’re not there. You will not survive Camp Green Lake by ignoring danger.
E is incorrect. This isn’t a Disney movie.
The correct answer is Q, as in: Quickly, get away from the snake. Walk, don’t run.
This wasn’t really a test on rattlesnakes. It was a test on making choices. You can’t let anybody else tell you what your choices are. Sometimes they won’t give you the right choice. If you’re going to survive Camp Green Lake, you must always make the right choice, whether it’s given to you or not.
In fact, sometimes it’s best not to answer anyone’s questions. Zero knew that. He was a kid in D tent who hardly spoke, so a lot of people thought he was stupid. Zero wasn’t stupid. He only spoke when he wanted to say something.
Do you remember what the police officer said to you when you were arrested? You have the right to remain silent. Most people talk way too much.
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I should warn you. My knowledge of scorpions and the other wildlife at Camp Green Lake is based on my personal observations and is not scientific. I came across two types of scorpions at Camp Green Lake: big ones and little ones. Actually, they came across me.
Habitat: Scorpions live in shoes, hats, sheets, pillows, and piles of old clothes. It makes you wonder how they survived before people came along. Always check each article of clothing before getting dressed, whether in the tent or after you shower. Always check your bed and pillow before lying down.
How to recognize a scorpion: They are really ugly. The good thing about scorpions is that they are so ugly, you can’t help jumping back when you see one. But don’t scream. It’s never a good idea to scream at Camp Green Lake.
The big ones are about four inches long, an inch wide, and a fourth of an inch thick. The little ones are about an inch and a half long, and the rest of
their measurements are proportional to that.
Scorpions have two claws, six very skinny legs, and a segmented tail.
They have no face, so it is difficult to tell one scorpion from another.
The legs: They have extremely skinny legs, which are capable of very quick movement, but you don’t have to worry about being chased by a scorpion. They would be very fast runners, but fortunately they’re not smart enough to get their legs to work together. It’s like each leg doesn’t know what the other legs are doing. The legs go in different directions at different speeds, so mostly they just move around in uneven loops.
The danger is that one might randomly wander across your face while you are sleeping. Since they don’t have faces themselves, they don’t know what one is, and it scares them. Like all living creatures, including humans, scorpions are most dangerous when they are frightened.
The claws: Their claws look like tiny crab claws. Getting pinched by a scorpion claw is no worse than, say, getting pinched by someone at school because you didn’t wear green on St. Patrick’s Day, except when you get pinched by someone at school, you don’t expect him to suddenly swing his butt around and inject you with poison.
The tail: The tail is the most dangerous part of the scorpion. It is divided into six segments, with a stinger at the very tip. You might think you’re safe if you stay in front of a scorpion, but before you know it, it can whip its tail around to the front. This rapid movement is possible because it has no face to get in the way. When picking up a scorpion, you should grab it by its tail, holding on to the segment right next to the stinger.
What to do if you are bitten by a scorpion: Usually the worst thing about a scorpion sting is just how bad it hurts. The pain is excruciating. It feels like your skin is being ripped off your bones. The pain will slowly spread to your joints and muscles. That was how Armpit got his name. He got stung on the arm and later went on and on about how much his armpit hurt.
Sometimes a scorpion sting can result in sickness and a high fever. Barf Bag lost his breakfast after he got bit on the finger, but that might have had more to do with the breakfast than with the scorpion.
There was a kid in E tent who lost all feeling in his face for three hours after getting stung on the neck. He had trouble breathing. That was the only time anyone came close to dying at Camp Green Lake from a scorpion sting.
The best thing you can do is wash the area with soap and water so it doesn’t get infected and wait for the pain to go away. You will have a very red, and very sore, welt for a week or two.
It is an oppressively hot day. (What else is new?) You’ve been digging your hole for several hours. You reach down and pick up your canteen, then notice a dark spot on the ground. To your horror, you realize there’s a tiny hole in the bottom of your canteen. Only half your water is left. You should:
A: Get mad and smash your canteen with your shovel, causing more and bigger leaks.
B: Quickly guzzle the remaining water in your canteen.
C: Be thankful for what you have. Your canteen is not half empty. It is half full.
D: Turn your canteen upside down, so that the small hole is on top. Whenever you want a drink, you won’t unscrew the lid, but simply drink out of the hole. The only time you will ever unscrew the lid is when filling the canteen, during which time you will keep your finger over the hole.
E: Ask your counselor for a new canteen.
E is incorrect. If you ask your counselor for a new canteen, he will tell you it’s just a small leak. Be thankful for what you have. Your
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canteen is not half empty. It is half full. He will suggest that you turn your canteen upside down, so that you keep the leak on top.
D is incorrect. Dirt will get into your canteen, and some water will leak out despite your best efforts. You don’t want to spend the next eighteen months drinking dirty water out of a leaky canteen.
C is incorrect. While it is important to have a positive attitude, you also need water.
The correct answer is B, then A. First guzzle the remaining water, then smash up your canteen. The Warden knows you cannot dig your holes without water. You will be given a new canteen.
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How to recognize a yellow-spotted lizard: You’ll hardly see the yellow spots. The first things you’ll notice are the huge red eyes, then the sharp black teeth, and then the long white tongue. I don’t know what makes the eleven small yellow spots on the lizard’s back so special. Perhaps there’s another type of lizard with red eyes, black teeth, and a ten-inch tongue that doesn’t have yellow spots.
If you see a yellow-spotted lizard, forget about everything else I’ve told you and just run. Don’t look where you’re going. Go! Scream if you want.
The yellow-spotted lizard’s venom is ten times more toxic than rattlesnake venom, and there is no antivenin. The lizards have powerful legs, and unlike scorpions, they know how to use them.
Habitat: Holes, five feet deep, five feet in diameter.
What to do if you are bitten by a yellow-spotted lizard: If there is something you wanted to do in your life before you died, now’s the time to do it.
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You have just stolen Mr. Sir’s water truck and are speeding away across the digging area. You should:
A: Fasten your seat belt.
B: Stop. Bang your head against the steering wheel several times and repeat, “What have I done? What have I done?”
C: Return to Mr. Sir and say, “The brakes are fine, but you’ll need to adjust the carburetor.”
D: Whatever. It doesn’t matter.
E: Look out!!!
D is the correct answer. There are only two possible explanations for your situation. Either you are dreaming, or you’ve been bitten by a yellow-spotted lizard and you wanted to drive a truck before you died. In either case, it doesn’t matter what you do.
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uthor of the award-winnin
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A rusted Honda Civic drove noisily down the street and parked across from the mayor’s house. Armpit had finished digging his trench and was attaching PVC pipe. The mayor had gone back inside.
The driver-side door had been bashed in, and it would have cost more to fix than the car was worth. The driver had to work his way over the stick shift and then exit on the passenger side.
The personalized license plate read: X RAY.
“Armpit!” X-Ray shouted as he crossed the street. “Armpit!”
The guys at work didn’t know him by that name, but if he didn’t say something X-Ray would just keep on shouting. Better to answer and shut him up.
“Hey,” he called back.
“Man, you’re really sweating,” X-Ray said as he came near. “Yeah, well, you’d sweat too if you were digging.”
“I’ve already dug enough dirt to last one lifetime,” said X-Ray. They had met each other at Camp Green Lake.
“Look, don’t call me Armpit around other people, all right?” Armpit said.
“But that’s your name, dawg. You should never be ashamed of who you are.”
X-Ray had the kind of smile that kept you from hating him no matter how annoying he was. He was skinny and wore glasses, which were now covered with clip-on shades.
He picked up Armpit’s shovel. “Different shape.” “Yeah, it’s for digging trenches, not holes.”
X-Ray studied it awhile. “Seems like it would be harder to dig with. No leverage.” He let it drop. “So you must be making a ton of money.”
Armpit shrugged. “I’m doing all right.” “A ton of money,” X-Ray repeated.
Armpit felt uncomfortable talking about money with X-Ray. “So really, how much you got saved up so far?”
“I don’t know. Not that much.”
He knew exactly how much he had. Eight hundred and fifty-seven dollars. He hoped to break a thousand with his next paycheck.
“Got to be at least a thousand,” said X-Ray. “You’ve been working for three months.”
“Just part-time.”
Besides working, Armpit was also taking two classes in summer school.
He had to make up for all the schooling he’d missed while at Green Lake. “And they take out for taxes and stuff, so really I don’t take home all that
much.”
“Eight hundred?”
“I don’t know, maybe.”
“The reason I’m asking,” X-Ray said, “the reason I’m asking is I got a business proposition for you. How would you like to double your money in less than two weeks?”
Armpit smiled as he shook his head. “I don’t think so.”
“I just need six hundred dollars. Double your money, guaranteed. And I won’t be taking out any taxes.”
“Look, things are going all right for me right now, and I just want to keep it all cool.”
“Don’t you even want to hear me out?” “Not really.”
“It’s not against the law,” X-Ray assured him. “I checked.”
“Yeah, you didn’t think selling little bags of parsley for fifty dollars an ounce was against the law either.”
“Hey, it’s not my fault what people think they’re buying. How is that my fault? Am I supposed to be a mind reader?”
X-Ray had been sent to Camp Green Lake for selling bags of dried parsley and oregano to customers who thought they were buying marijuana. That was also why his family had to move from Lubbock to Austin shortly after he was released.
“Look, I just don’t want to do anything that might screw things up,” Armpit said.
“That’s what you think? That I came here to screw things up? Man, I’m offering you an opportunity. An opportunity. If the Wright brothers came to you, you would have told them it’s impossible to fly.”
“The Wright brothers?” asked Armpit. “What century are you living in?” “I just don’t get it,” said X-Ray. “I don’t get it. I offer my best friend an
opportunity to double his money, and he won’t even listen to my idea.” “All right, tell me your idea.”
“Forget it. If you’re not interested I’ll find somebody else.”
“Tell me your idea.” He actually was beginning to get just a little bit curious.
“What’s the point?” asked X-Ray. “If you’re not going to even listen…” “All right, I’m listening,” said Armpit.
X-Ray smiled. “Just two words.” He paused for effect. “Kaira DeLeon.”
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ïsrr next step ma/ te tsrr last.
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By the time Tamaya made it to the other side of the fence, Marshall had already disappeared through the trees. She picked up her backpack and hurried after him, slipping her arms through the straps as she ran. Ducking under a low branch, she spotted him climbing over a small mound of boulders. “Wait up!” she called.
Again, he disappeared from view.
Her knee banged against one of the boulders as she scrambled over the mound. He was waiting for her on the other side, hands on hips, an annoyed look on his face. “What’s the point in taking a shortcut if I have to keep stopping and waiting for you to come pokeying along?”
“I’m not pokeying,” Tamaya insisted.
“Well, hurry up, then,” said Marshall. He turned and started off again.
She stuck close to him as they followed a path that zigzagged through the trees. It had rained the night before, and damp leaves stuck to Tamaya’s sneakers. Leaves continued to fall around them, one here, one there, gently drifting downward.
They must have missed a zig or a zag somewhere, because after a while it became clear to Tamaya that they were no longer on any kind of path. She had to fight her way through tangled branches and then step over a thick patch of thorny bushes.
“You think we should turn back?” she suggested. Marshall’s answer was short and blunt. “No.”
Tamaya pretended to be brave. Every little noise made her heart leap. She got down on her hands and knees and crawled under a very low branch. “Is this the shortcut?” she asked as she straightened back up.
Marshall didn’t answer. He just kept moving forward.
Her sock was torn, and her skirt was splotched with dirt. She didn’t know how she’d explain that to her mother. One thing she couldn’t do was lie. She would never lie to her mother.
Her parents had divorced back when she’d been in the first grade. They had been living in an apartment in Philadelphia at the time. It was a different apartment from the one her dad lived in now.
Even back then, everyone always talked about how smart she was, which had surprised her, because it wasn’t something she gave much thought. She was who she was, and that was all. She’d been given an aptitude test, and then she and her mother had moved to Heath Cliff so she could attend Woodridge Academy.
One thing she wasn’t smart about was her parents. She couldn’t figure out why they’d separated and why they didn’t just get back together. After the divorce her mother seemed very sad for a long time. On Tamaya’s last visit to her father, he said to her, “You know I still love your mother very much. I always will.” But when she repeated those words to her mother and suggested that maybe they should all live together again, her mother got all sad again.
“That will never happen,” she told Tamaya.
Even now, as Tamaya was scared to death that she and Marshall might be lost in the woods forever, she couldn’t help but think that maybe if she did get lost, her mom and dad would come looking for her together. She was imagining what it would be like when they found her, and how they’d all hug each other, when a small animal darted right in front of her.
She stopped. “What was that?” she asked Marshall. “What was what?”
“You didn’t see it?” She wondered if it could have been a fox. “Some kind of animal practically ran over my foot!”
“So?”
“So, nothing,” she muttered. She didn’t know why he was being so mean. They came to an old dead tree lying on its side. Much of its bark had rotted away. Marshall climbed up on it and looked around. “Hmmm,” he
muttered. He looked back the way they had just come. “Are we lost?” Tamaya asked.
“No,” Marshall insisted. “I just need to get my bearings.”
“You said you knew a shortcut!”
“I do,” he answered. “I just have to find the exact place where it starts. Once I find the starting point, we’ll be home in a snap.” He snapped his fingers as if that proved it.
Tamaya waited. She heard something crackle behind her, but when she turned around, there was nothing there.
Marshall hopped down from the tree trunk. “This way!” he declared, as if he knew exactly where he was going.
Tamaya scooted around the tree and followed. She had no choice.
They made their way down the side of a hill until they came to a ravine, then followed the ravine upward. Tamaya’s backpack felt heavier with every step. She kept thinking she heard something or someone behind her, but when she looked back, there was never anyone there.
Marshall continued to walk quickly. She constantly had to run to catch up but soon would lag behind again. Each time, it became harder to catch up.
Out of breath, she watched him disappear around a curve in the hillside. She shifted the weight of her backpack, gathered what strength she had left, and started to run after him.
Something grabbed her from behind. She felt her sweater being pulled up against her neck, choking her.
She twisted free, then screamed as she fell to the ground. Rolling over, she looked up, but there was nobody—no deranged hermit, no bloodstained beard, just a tree limb with pointy branches.
Marshall came hurrying back down to her. “Are you okay?”
She felt more embarrassed than anything else. “I just fell,” she said.
She realized her sweater must have gotten caught on the branch. That was all.
Marshall continued to look down at her. “I’m really sorry, Tamaya,” he said finally.
He seemed really worried.
“I saw a rocky ledge up the hill,” he told her. “You wait here. I’m going to climb up to it. I should be able to get a good view from up there.”
“Don’t leave me,” she pleaded. “I won’t. I promise.”
He took off his backpack and set it down next to her. “I’ll be right back.”
She watched him head back up the hill and disappear again around the curve. She took off her backpack and set it next to his. She was too worn out to follow.
She took off her sweater to see how badly it had been damaged. It was worse than she’d thought. There was a hole almost as big as her fist just above the right shoulder. She definitely didn’t know how she’d explain that to her mother.
Even though she had been given a full scholarship to Woodridge, her mother still had to pay for the school uniform. The sweater had cost ninety- three dollars.
It wasn’t fair.
She would never admit it to her friends, but she loved the school uniform. Monica, Hope, and Summer thought it made them look like dorks. They could go on and on about what they would wear on the last Friday of each month when they got to wear “real clothes.” But Tamaya always felt proud to put on her sweater with the words Virtue and Valor written in gold, and the year 1924. It made her feel important, like she was a part of history.
As she was thinking about this, she found herself staring at a large puddle of some kind of fuzz-covered mud. Her mind barely registered it at first, but the more she gazed at the odd-looking mud, the more it drew her attention.
The mud was dark and tar-like. Just above the surface, almost as if it were suspended in midair, there was a fuzzy yellowish-brown scum.
Something else struck her as strange about the fuzzy mud, although it took her a moment to realize what it was. There were no leaves on top of the mud. Leaves had fallen everywhere else. They completely surrounded the mud puddle, right up to its edges, but for some reason, no leaves had landed on top of it.
She looked back up the hill. There was still no sign of Marshall.
Her gaze returned to the fuzzy mud. It was possible, she thought, that the leaves had sunk down into the mud, but the mud seemed too thick for a leaf to fall through it. She wondered if that fuzzy scum somehow swept the leaves off to the side.
A noise crackled from below. She turned toward the sound, and then heard it again. Something was moving through the trees.
She rose to one knee, ready to run, then caught a glimpse of someone wearing a blue sweater and khaki pants. It was the boys’ school uniform.
She stood and waved her arms. “Hey!” she shouted. The figure stopped.
“Over here!” she called.
As he came toward her, she recognized him as the boy who had sat next to her in the lunchroom. He was the one who had stood on the bench and said a wolf had bit a hole in his pant leg. She wasn’t sure, but she thought his name might have been Chad.
She looked back up the hill and shouted, “Marshall! Marshall, we’re saved!”
LOUIs sACHAR is the author of the New York Times #1 bestseller Holes, winner of the Newbery Medal, the National Book Award, and the Christopher Award. He is also the author of Stanley Yelnats’ Survival Guide to Camp Green Lake; Small Steps, winner of the ALA Schneider Family Book Award; and The Cardturner, a Publishers Weekly Best Book, a Parents’ Choice Gold Award recipient, and an ALA- YALSA Best Fiction for Young Adults Book. His books for younger readers include There’s a Boy in the Girls’ Bathroom, The Boy Who Lost His Face, Dogs Don’t Tell Jokes, and the Marvin Redpost series, among many others. His most recent novel is Fuzzy Mud.
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