I Have a Bad Feeling About This (8 page)

“Because he fell over.”

“Oh.”

“Does anybody else have any left?” Erik asked. “Or is Randy our official distance-puking champion?”

“I've got some more,” said Randy. “I think I can beat my own record.”

Though Erik ruled that Randy did indeed break his own record, it was a very controversial decision, with Stu and Jackie insisting that one stray chunk did not constitute a distance of four feet and nine and a half inches but that instead, they had to count from where the liquid portion stopped, giving him a rather poor distance of two feet and three inches. Henry and Randy insisted that anything that emerged from his stomach was fair game. Stu and Jackie said that Randy's vote did not count, while Erik said that nobody's vote counted but his own since he was an impartial nonparticipant. Jackie gave it another attempt and was disqualified for spitting rather than regurgitating. Erik's impartial nature was questioned, as was his authority to disqualify the contestants.

They asked Max if he would be a replacement judge, but he declined.

They sat around the campfire, roasting marshmallows that would not turn brown no matter how long they kept them in the flames.

“Does anybody know any good campfire songs?” Max asked.

“My chess club has a pretty good theme song,” said Stu.

“If you sing about chess, I'll use your hair to start the fire.”

“
When
you
move
your
pawn, I start to yawn—
” sang Randy.

“How are you in any position to judge chess club?” Stu asked.

“I wasn't judging it. It was the first rhyme I thought of.
When
I
move
my
knight, we fight, fight, fight
! See? I wasn't being a jerk about it.
When
you
move
your
rook, I…read a book.
No, wait.
When
I
move
my
king, I sing, sing, sing
!”

“Stop that immediately,” said Max.

“I think my marshmallow is starting to cook,” said Jackie.

“That's just an ash that fell on it,” Henry noted.

“Oh. Well, I'm going to eat it anyway.” Jackie plucked the marshmallow off the end of the stick and then popped it into his mouth. He chewed for a moment. “Muh mah mumma muh mah.”

“What?” Henry asked.

“Muh mah mumma muh mah.”

“Is that another campfire song?”

“I think he's saying that he can't open his mouth,” said Erik.

Jackie nodded.

Henry plucked his own marshmallow off the stick and tossed it into the fire, where it continued not to burn.

Max stretched and yawned. “Well, I think it's time to turn in for the night. Tomorrow will be better. It has to be better. It just has to.” He stood up.

“Sir?” asked Henry. “I think I'm going to sleep out here again.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“It's good for me to be out in the wilderness. I want to try it again.”

Max narrowed his eyes. “What's your angle, Henry?”

“Nothing.”

“I'd like to sleep outside too,” said Randy.

“Me too,” said Jackie.

“Yeah, me too,” said Erik.

“Pass,” said Stu.

Henry's stomach sank. They were going to ruin everything! At the very least, he couldn't let Erik be there if/when Monica showed up. He'd never win her heart if there were more attractive and less clumsy people hanging around.

“Nobody is sleeping outside,” said Max. “There'll be plenty of time for that once the Games begin.”

Argh! Rats! Shoot! Blast! Dang it! Fudge! Curses! Bummer!
thought Henry (again approximately).

Oh, well. He'd make it work. He just had to sneak out after everybody was asleep.

***

Henry lay on his fang-covered cot—at least that's what it felt like since unidentified sharp things were poking into his back—waiting for the others to fall asleep. Randy was snoring. The bird chirped every once in a while and Jackie was giving presidential campaign speeches in his sleep. But he wasn't sure about Erik and Stu. He'd just have to wait.

Was it creepy and stalkerish to sneak out of bed and wait outside for Monica to show up? He didn't want to be creepy and stalkerish.

But she'd said that she was going to try to make it out here and that she hoped he'd be around. That meant it wasn't creepy for him to be out there. In fact, for him not to be out there would be rude.

She
does
have
a
boyfriend though.

Maybe not.

She
does. Accept it, nerd.

Okay, she did have a boyfriend, at least at some point in the recent past. But ultimately, any decisions that Monica chose to make about her romantic life were up to her, and it was not Henry's responsibility to tell her not to trek through the woods at night to meet up with a nerd who wasn't her boyfriend.

Henry didn't want to be the kind of person who would get all snuggly with another guy's girlfriend, but he also didn't think he should carry his sense of social responsibility too far. If she said, “Hey, wanna make out?” should he really be expected to say, “No, no, I cannot do such a thing for that would be wrong!”?

He was pretty sure she wasn't going to invite him to make out.

But if somebody had come up to Henry this morning and said, “Hey, Henry, do you think you'll find yourself taking part in a projectile-vomiting competition today?” he would have said, “Why, no, I think that's quite unlikely.” So you never knew what kind of surprises the world had in store.

Chances of Monica inviting him to make out with her tonight—zero percent. There was a one hundred percent chance of there being a zero percent chance that it would happen.

He listened closely. Erik's breathing seemed to be slow and steady and Stu's wheeze sounded like an unconscious wheeze. He quietly got out of his cot, put on his clothes, and snuck out of the barracks.

***

He sat by the extinguished fire in the darkness. He'd brought a flashlight so that he wouldn't twist his ankle in the dark, but he had shut it off once he reached the campfire so he wouldn't alert Max or anybody else.

He looked around for glowing eyes but saw none.

This wasn't so bad. Well, it
was
so bad, but knowing that Monica (might) be on her way made it worth it.

It would be less worth it if all she found was his half-eaten body. Still, he'd accept the risk.

Last time she'd come at one in the morning, so if she kept to that schedule, he had two hours to wait. He probably wouldn't tell her that he'd sat in the dark for two hours waiting for her. She might consider that creepy or stalkerish.

She might not even show.

Right now, she might be laughing to her fellow musical geniuses about how she'd made some dorky, scared guy sit in the dark woods, waiting for her.

“Nobody could be that pathetic!” one of them would say, but Monica would just nod and giggle.

Henry didn't care. He'd risk getting devoured by a wild animal and having people nod and giggle if it meant he might get to spend more time with Monica.

Something moved in the bushes next to him.

It wasn't Monica, unless she'd become very tiny.

Something else moved.

He was surrounded by things that lived in the wilderness. Probably things with claws and teeth and rabies.

He refused to run away screaming.

In fact, he would neither run nor scream.

He was not going to faint. He was not going to whimper. He was not going to gasp.

Okay, some light gasping was fine, but that was it. Let the monsters in the woods scurry around him, searching for his most tender spots. He could handle it. Henry Lambert had been a coward for his entire life—but not tonight.

Not tonight.

As it turned out, he was so brave that he fell asleep despite the danger of spiders crawling into his ears and laying eggs.

When he woke up, Monica was standing over him, shining a flashlight into his face.

She'd brought friends.

When Monica returned to her living quarters the previous night, Julie, a wide-eyed cello player who was nice enough but a bit too clingy for Monica's taste, had immediately accosted her.

“I was so worried about you!” Julie said.

“I left a note.”

“But I didn't know if you'd written it under duress.”

“Did you tell anybody I was gone?”

Julie shook her head. “I didn't want to get you in trouble. But I couldn't stop imagining you in somebody's trunk with duct tape over your mouth!”

“Are all cello players this morbid?”

“Yeah, we're pretty dark.”

“Well, I appreciate your concern about me being kidnapped by a madman.”

“No problem. So where did you go?”

Monica told her. Julia made her swear that she'd bring her along the next time. Monica agreed as long as Julia didn't tell anybody else. Within eight minutes and seventeen seconds (Monica set the timer on her watch), five other girls knew about her adventure and demanded to come along.

“You understand that it's three miles through the woods, right?” Monica asked.

They all said that yes, they understood and that yes, that was totally fine.

“And you understand that I've only seen one of the guys and the rest could be total dog-faces, right?”

The other girls seemed less okay with that.

“It's a survival camp, so they'd be cool guys, right?” Julie asked. “Rugged and stuff?”

“I don't know. I don't think it's a very good survival camp. I make no promises about the quality of the men.”

“I'm out,” said Tracy, a thin blonde with glasses. “They could be savages.”

“And that's bad?” asked Vicki, a thin blonde without glasses.

“It is if they don't wash.”

“I'm pretty sure they're not filthy mountain men,” said Monica. “But again, I'm not making any promises. I'm just in it for the hike.”

“Okay,” said Tracy, “I'm back in as long as you promise that they're not filthy mountain men.”

“I just said I'm not making any promises!”

“I'm out then.”

Everybody else was in.

“Let me make the rules very clear,” said Monica. “You have to keep up with me. If you fall into quicksand or something, we will work to save you, but if you just get tired, you're on your own. We leave when I say we're going to leave. And absolutely no whining of any sort. Are you all okay with that?”

“You're kind of bossy,” said Tracy.

“I thought you were out.”

“I am out, but I'm still allowed to make observations.”

“Is everybody else okay with the ‘no whining' clause?”

“Is it really three miles?” asked Vicki in a voice that was very close to being whiny, though a skilled attorney could probably successfully plead a case for it not quite crossing the line.

“Yes. Through the woods in the dark. I'd advise against high heels.”

***

Tracy decided to join the field trip after all but changed her mind after five hundred yards. They walked her back to the living quarters, at which point Tracy decided that she'd go as long as she could hold one of the flashlights.

“Why didn't you just let her hold one of the flashlights?” Vicki asked as they left Tracy behind.

“Who in our group was most likely to drop and break a flashlight?” Monica asked.

“Good point. You think she'll tell?”

“She's probably matured beyond the tattletale stage.”

“I'm not so sure.”

Monica shrugged. “What are they gonna do to us if she
does
tell?”

“Make us scrub floors.”

“I'm not afraid to scrub floors.”

“Have you seen the floors in the kitchen?” Vicki shuddered. “I saw some gum under the table and I think it's a brand they don't even make anymore.”

“How would you know?”

“I know my gum.”

“Did you chew it?”

“No, I didn't chew it. Gross. I sniffed it though. It was from 2005 or 2006.”

Monica stopped walking and just stared at her.

“What?” Vicki asked. “Am I not allowed to have skills?”

“Anyway,” said Monica, resuming walking, “if we get busted, I'll say that it was my idea, but all of you need to be ready to take some personal responsibility for what we're doing.”

***

The four remaining girls walked through the woods. Monica took the lead, while Julie walked too closely behind her. Vicki and another girl named Denise followed. Denise was quiet and big-boned; not “big-boned” as an upbeat way of saying “overweight” but rather that she seemed to literally have bones far larger than most girls. Monica would not want to be punched by her.

When they arrived at the campsite, Monica was surprised to discover that Henry was actually there. No sleeping bag this time, and he was fully clothed. He was leaning against a tree, fast asleep. Had he been waiting for her?

She shone her flashlight into his face and he woke up with a start. He looked shocked to see her and then even more shocked to see the other girls.

“Hi,” Monica said with a smile.

***

For a split second, Henry thought it was a dream. But he did not actually say, “Is this a dream?” because it would have made him sound like a dweeb.

“Hi,” he said instead. Definitely better.

“This is Julie, Vicki, and Denise,” said Monica, shining her flashlight beam on each of the girls as she introduced them.

“I'm Henry,” said Henry, thankful that he was able to say his correct name.

“Did Mr. Roid Rage make you sleep outside again?”

Truth, lie, or somewhere in-between? Henry started to go for somewhere in-between. (“Nah, I just enjoy sleeping out in the fresh air.”) But his brain veered away from a possible danger zone at the last instant, and he went with the truth. “Nah, you said you might come back, so I figured I'd just hang out.”

“Aw, that's sweet,” said Monica, reaching over and brushing at his shoulder. “Ants,” she explained.

She's brushing ants off me! I'm the luckiest guy in the world!

“Thanks.”

“So is everybody else asleep?”

Henry nodded. “Yeah. I mean, I hope so. Otherwise, they know I'm missing, but they don't care enough to see if I'm okay.”

“Well, I'm afraid that we have no other choice but to scare the crap out of them. Passing up an opportunity like that would be unforgivable. Lead us to them.”

Henry squished an ant that had crawled behind his ear and stood up. Would this make him a traitor to his gender?

No, they were out in the middle of nowhere and four girls wanted to be led to where the boys were sleeping.
Not
leading them there would make Henry a terrible, terrible human being.

“Let's go,” he said. “It's only a couple of minutes away. You'll see the building in a second.”

“You said there were five, right?”

“Five counting me. So four.”

“Well, then, it couldn't be more perfect. Henry, your job is to sneak in there and make sure everybody is still asleep. If not, you'll signal that to us by coming back outside and telling us that not everybody is still asleep. If they are asleep, we will very carefully creep in there as quietly as possible and everybody will stand at the foot of a bed.”

“They're cots.”

“Plan doesn't change. Everybody picks a cot. On the count of three, we wave our flashlights, shake the cots, and roar. Everybody can roar, right?”

“Of course we can roar,” said Julie.

They reached the building. Henry slowly pushed open the door, expecting it to let out a loud creak because that's what doors did when he wanted them to shut up. But the door opened silently. He stepped into the dark room. Four occupied cots. No motion. Snoring. Everybody was asleep. The evil plan could proceed.

He gestured for the girls to come inside. They turned off their flashlights and walked into the barracks. No floorboards creaked. Nobody sneezed or hiccupped. This was going to be awesome.

Max probably would not appreciate the humor of the prank, but Henry didn't care. Well, he did care but not enough to put a stop to this. Maybe the guys would shriek quietly enough not to wake him up.

Monica took her place in front of Erik's cot. This was the cot that Henry least wanted her to choose, but that was okay. He wasn't going to get jealous yet.

Denise stood at the foot of Randy's cot. Vicki stood at the foot of Stu's cot. Julie stood at the foot of Jackie's cot. She looked a bit disappointed, as if she realized that he was a couple of years younger than her.

Monica put a finger over her lips and then held up three fingers. Then two. Then one. And then—

The sound of the four girls roaring was simultaneously the most hilarious and the most sensual thing Henry had ever heard. Erik, Stu, Randy, and Jackie all cried out in surprise and then there was a trio of crashes as three of the four (not Jackie's) cots collapsed.

The girls cheerfully added to the pandemonium with their own screams.

Jackie scrambled to get out of bed and his own cot collapsed. He knocked over the cot next to him, which knocked over the cot next to it, which unfortunately did not knock over the cot next to it, robbing everybody of the sight of them all going down like dominoes. Jackie fell to the floor. Henry waited a moment to gauge if that was funny or not. (Mild pain would be funny, but moderate to severe would not be.) But when Jackie got up unhurt, Henry deemed it “uproariously funny.”

Then suddenly, he wondered what happened to the bird.

But he saw the bird still safely on its cloth on one of the empty cots that hadn't fallen over. So the situation was funny again.

Finally, the screaming stopped, replaced by uncontrollable laughter from everyone. Henry laughed so hard that his sides hurt and tears streamed down his cheeks. He didn't think he'd laughed this hard in his entire life. Even Randy, whose underwear was less presentable than Henry's had been, was cracking up.

“Good one,” Erik said. “Good one.”

Max burst into the barracks. Henry knew they were making way too much noise not to get caught, so he'd expected this, though the machine gun was somewhat less expected.

“
Who
the
hell
are
you
?” Max demanded and then he opened fire into the ceiling.

Everybody screamed and ducked for cover. Monica grabbed Henry's arm and pulled him under a cot.

“Max!” Henry shouted, trying to be heard over the gunfire. “Max! Max! Stop shooting!”

Max did not stop shooting. Pieces of wood fell from the ceiling.

The screams from the girls were not quite as joyous now. Randy had his hands over his ears and his eyes squeezed tightly shut.

“Max! Please!”

Finally, Max stopped shooting. Or more likely, he ran out of ammunition. He lowered the gun, breathing heavily.

Henry frantically looked around. As far as he could tell, nobody had been hit. All of the girls except Monica were sobbing. Jackie was sobbing too.

“Sir?” Henry called out, not leaving the pseudo safety of the cot. “It was a joke.”

“Huh?” Max seemed to realize what he'd done and that the teenaged girls posed no immediate threat.

“They're from the music camp. We were playing a prank.”

“Oh.” A rather large chunk of the ceiling dropped to the floor, narrowly missing Max's head. He didn't seem to notice it. “That wasn't a smart thing to do.”

“I know that now, sir.”

Max cleared his throat. “If you are female, vacate these premises and return to your camp of origin.”

Nobody moved.

Max tossed his machine gun onto one of the cots and held his hands in the air, palms out. “I'm unarmed. It's okay. I probably shouldn't have opened fire like that.”

Monica very cautiously crawled out from underneath the cot. She gestured for the other girls to follow and they all darted out of the barracks without so much as a wave good-bye.

“I'm not opposed to the idea of women sneaking into your sleeping area,” Max announced. “But if it ever happens again, try to be more silent.”

“We will, sir,” said Henry, who was back to not liking survival camp very much.

“Sweep up those wood chips,” Max told them. “I'll accept some responsibility for my role in the destruction of the ceiling, so tomorrow we'll work together to repair it.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Max left, shutting the door behind him. Then he opened the door again, walked back into the barracks, picked up his machine gun from the cot, and left.

“So—” said Erik. “Was that the worst thing to ever happen to us…or the most awesome?”

Nobody slept soundly that night.