by Bill Myers
Chapter 10
A Test of Faith
“WALLY . . . GARY!”
“It’s Dale!” Gary shouted. I had to take his word for it. Without my glasses, all I saw was a dark, blurry blob (which must have been Dale) standing on a flat blurry blob (which must have been the shore).
“HANG ON!” Dale shouted.
What do you think we’re going to do? I thought. Go out for pizza? But Gary shouted something a little more helpful. “HURRY! THE BRANCH IS GIVING WAY.”
Almost like an answer, the branch gave another little groan, this time followed by a little crack.
“How you doing, Weasel?” Gary shouted.
“Pretty good!” I yelled. “What’s going on?”
“They’re tying a rope around Dale’s waist.”
A moment later I heard a splash and saw a blurry form half wading, half swimming toward us.
The branch was full of a lot of sharp spines and stubby things. They cut into my hand pretty hard so I tried to grab the branch differently. It gave another little jerk followed by a louder CRACK.
“DON’T MOVE!” Gary shouted. “STOP MOVING!”
I looked back toward Dale. He was downstream from us about fifteen feet.
The branch quit cracking. Now it started creaking.
“OKAY, GUYS,” Dale shouted. “ONE OF YOU LET GO FIRST.”
“YOU’RE CRAZY!” Gary shouted. “NO WAY ARE WE LETTING GO! COME AND GET US!”
“I CAN’T! YOU’RE GOING TO HAVE TO LET GO AND LET ME CATCH YOU.”
“WHAT?”
“LET GO AND THE CURRENT WILL CARRY YOU RIGHT TO ME!”
“NO WAY!”
“GARY, YOU GOT TO TRUST ME ON THIS. I WON’T LET YOU GO!”
“YOU’RE CRAZY!” he repeated.
The branch gave another little shudder and slipped some more.
“TRUST ME! GUYS, YOU GOT TO HAVE FAITH! HAVE FAITH THAT I WON’T LET YOU GO!”
“What’s he doing,” Gary smirked, “giving us another one of his speeches?”
I tried to smile back. But the branch didn’t share our humor. It gave another loud CREAK. “What other choice do we have?” I yelled.
“COME ON, GUYS, LET GO. TRUST ME.”
“You let go first,” Gary ordered.
“Me?”
“Yeah.”
“But I . . . I don’t have my glasses.”
“What’s that got to do with anything?”
Try as I might I couldn’t come up with a good reason.
“COME ON, GUYS, TRUST ME. LET GO.”
CREAK “If I go, you’ll follow?” I cried.
“Maybe . . .”
CREAK . . . GROAN . . .
“All right, I’ll follow!”
“Promise?”
CREAK . . . GROAN . . . C-R-A-C-K . . .
“ALL RIGHT, ALL RIGHT, I PROMISE!”
I looked back over my shoulder at Dale. He stood there, waist deep in water, arms spread wide.
“COME ON, WALLY, YOU CAN TRUST ME.”
And he was right. After all I’d seen and heard this week, I knew I could trust him. So, with a deep breath, I turned to Gary and said, “I get fifty points for going first.”
. . . And then I let go.
The current whisked me off like a leaf in a hurricane. Somebody started screaming. It sounded a lot like me. It probably was. After several terrifying seconds, I felt myself crash hard into Dale’s chest. Real hard.
He gave a loud “OOAAAF!” but wrapped his arms around me so tight I knew he wouldn’t let go. Not for the world. Quickly, he half drug, half carried me toward shore where a dozen people grabbed me and tried to make me lie down. But I wasn’t in a lying down mood. Gary was still out there. And by the way Dale kept shouting to him, it looked like he’d changed his mind about letting go.
I scrambled to my feet and got as close to the bank as they’d let me. “COME ON, GARY!” I shouted. “COME ON, MAN, YOU PROMISED!”
“I’M BIGGER THAN YOU,” he yelled. “HE WON’T BE ABLE TO HANG ON!” There was no missing the panic in Gary’s voice.
“I WILL HOLD ON,” Dale shouted. “TRUST ME!”
The branch gave another sickening C-R-A-C-K. Only this time it meant business. This time it slipped a good foot and a half. Any second it would give out all together. Any second Gary would be swept into the river.
“WALLY?” he shouted. His voice was shaking with fear. “HELP ME, MAN. YOU GOT TO HELP ME!”
“THERE’S NOTHING I CAN DO!” My own voice was breaking as I angrily rubbed the tears from my eyes. “YOU GOT TO TRUST HIM, GARY! YOU GOT TO LET GO!”
“WALLY?”
By now the rest of the camp was joining in. “COME ON, GARY. YOU CAN DO IT, MAN. YOU CAN DO IT!”
“I WON’T LET YOU GO!” Dale promised. “I WON’T LET GO!”
“TRUST HIM, GARY,” I cried, “TRUST HIM.”
And then Gary did the bravest thing he’d ever done in his life. He let go. He forgot all about the pain and stuff he’d gotten from so many people for so many years. He forgot all of that and put his trust in Dale.
And just in time . . . because the exact moment Gary let go, the branch broke loose.
We all gasped as Gary and the heavy limb thundered toward Dale. Any other guy would have dived out of the way. But Dale had given his word. So he stood there. Gary and the huge, spiked tree limb rushed right at him, but Dale would not move.
Next, everything went kinda in slow motion—like in the movies. I’m sure lots of people were screaming, but I couldn’t hear them. I’m sure the river was still roaring, but I couldn’t hear it. All I saw was Gary crash into Dale. All I heard was Dale cry out in pain as the big guy slammed into him.
But Dale kept his word. He didn’t let go. He wrapped his arms around Gary and held him for dear life.
Then Dale did one other thing. And it’s something I’ll remember for as long as I live. He saw the limb rushing straight at them and swung Gary behind him, to protect the boy. In one quick move Dale covered Gary and took the full blow of the limb into his own back. He let out an agonizing scream as the wooden spikes tore through his clothes and dug into his body. But he still wouldn’t let go.
In a flash, the water was filled with kids and other counselors as we all tugged on the rope to bring Dale and Gary back to shore. Gary was doing fine, though he was bawling like a baby. Come to think of it, so was I. Come to think of it, so were most of us.
But not Dale. Dale was hurting too bad to cry. Dale was also bleeding . . . a lot.
Chapter 11
Wrapping Up
While Gary and I were taking our little afternoon swim, Wall Street had called 911 on her cell phone. By the time we hauled Dale back to the parking lot, an ambulance and fire truck were just pulling in. Everyone was all scared and of course all the girls thought Dale was going to die. Dale tried to tell them he was okay, that he wasn’t going to die. But that only made them more positive he was going to die since that’s what dying heroes always say before they die.
Anyway, it was dinnertime when the bus finally rolled back into camp. Word came for us that Dale really was going to be okay. He’d gotten some nasty cuts and had bruised a rib or two, but that was about it. Course, that still didn’t make anyone jump for joy. I figured that’s why no one showed up at the Toxic Waste Site for dinner—no one felt like eating.
But, as usual, I figured wrong.
“Congratulations!” Opera shouted as he plopped down beside me. Even though he’d shut off his Walkman as a symbol of mourning, he was still shouting . . . and eating. Force of habit, I guess.
“Congratulations for what?” I asked, pushing some frozen purple thingies around on my plate.
“According to Wall Street’s calculations, you won the competition.”
“Oh, that.”
“Better hurry, though.”
“For what?”
“Jimmy Jack’s selling tickets for the rest of the camp to watch.”
“Watch?”
“Sure. The Gorilla lost, so he and his Goons have to pick up the trash. Jimmy Jack’s selling tickets for everyone to watch them and to listen to your victory speech.”
“Victory speech?”
“Yup, he says you’re really going to lay into ol’ Gorilla Man. ‘The Speech of a Lifetime,’ he calls it.”
I rose to my feet pretty steamed. “After all that’s happened, he’s doing that?” I didn’t wait for an answer. I crossed the room and threw open the cafeteria doors. It was exactly like Opera said. There were Gary and his Goons picking up trash all around the ground, and there was Jimmy Jack doing what he did best. . . .
“You there,” he shouted at some little kid, “step to the rear. Only front-row tickets here. If you wanna better view, buy a better ticket. Better hurry though, they’re going fast!”
I looked back at Gary. He didn’t say a word. He just stayed bent over picking up the garbage.
“There he is now!” Jimmy Jack shouted as he spotted me. “The man of the hour!”
All heads turned toward me. The group started to clap as they jostled and pushed me toward the front. Pretty soon they started up their chant: “Wal-ly, Wal-ly, Wal-ly . . .”
“This is better than I expected!” Jimmy Jack shouted into my ear as he flashed a handful of bills.
“Speech!” someone shouted. “Give us the speech!” Pretty soon the rest of the group joined in. “Speech, speech, speech!”
I looked at them. They looked at me.
“Speech, speech, speech . . .”
“This is it, man!” Jimmy Jack shouted. “Give ’em both barrels! Make Gorilla Boy sorry he was ever born!”
Finally, everyone settled down. It grew very quiet. I looked over at Gary one last time. He and the Goons were still working away. It took me another minute but finally I made up my mind. Without a word, I turned and walked toward Gary.
“What’s he doing?” someone called from the crowd.
I knew exactly what I was doing. Once I was at Gary’s side I bent over and started picking up trash.
He glared over at me. “What are you trying to prove, Weasel? You won.”
“Trust me,” I whispered.
Meanwhile, back at the crowd, Jimmy Jack started to sound a little nervous. “Come on, Wally. Come on, man, the joke’s over.”
But it was no joke. I kept on working. I was through with Jimmy Jack and his games. I was through trying to be something I wasn’t. If Jimmy Jack Hucksterly wanted a victory speech, then Jimmy Jack Hucksterly was going to have to make it.
“Hey, this isn’t what we paid for,” somebody shouted.
“Come on, Wally,” Jimmy Jack called a little more urgently. But I ignored him.
Jimmy Jack started to sweat. A lot. He tried to start up the chant, “Wal-ly, Wal-ly, Wal-ly. . . .” But this time, it didn’t work. Pretty soon it was being drowned out by complaints.
“You said he was going to lay into him.”
“‘The Speech of a Lifetime,’ you promised!”
“This is lame, man.”
“I want my money back.”
“Give us our money!”
“Come on, guys,” Jimmy Jack called, “I’m sure Wally’s got something to say.” He turned to me. “Right, Wally? WALLY?”
But ol’ Wally boy didn’t have a word to say. He just kept on working.
“WE WANT OUR MONEY BACK!” the crowd started to shout. “WE WANT OUR MONEY!”
They grew louder by the second. And the louder they grew, the more Jimmy Jack sweated. And the more Jimmy Jack sweated, the more I started smiling.
Luckily, Gary was the only one to spot that smile. At first he just looked at me kind of puzzled like. And then, maybe it was just my imagination, but for the briefest second, it looked like he actually returned it. Of course, the smile vanished as quickly as it appeared. After all, Gary the Gorilla did have a reputation to keep up.
The following morning Dale stood beside our buses as we loaded our gear. He was kind of bandaged up here and there, but for a man who was supposed to have died he looked pretty good.
Of course, Wall Street, Opera, and I said the usual good-byes and made the usual promises to write. I’ve got to hand it to Wall Street, she was doing a pretty good job of not crying . . . until the girl part of her finally won out.
“By the way,” Opera shouted, “what school will you be going to this fall?
“Olympic Heights,” I shouted.
“Olympic Heights!” he yelled. “That’s where I’m going!”
I couldn’t believe my ears. I turned to Wall Street. She was also grinning!
“Not you, too!”
Her grin widened and she nodded.
“Looks like we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other!” Opera shouted.
Before I could figure if that was good or bad, some guy from behind yelled, “Let’s move it, McDoogle!” and gave me a shove into the bus.
I tried to keep my balance. But the last step sort of threw me. Before I knew it I was flat on my face in the aisle. Of course, everyone laughed and there were the usual “what an idiot” and “way to go, McDorkel.” But I didn’t mind much. In fact, it was kind of nice to get back into the swing of things.
I looked around and spotted Gary toward the back. As usual, he had the required empty seat beside him. It looked kind of inviting, but I knew better than to join him. It’s true, we’d both gone through a lot of changes—especially in the wisdom department. I mean, I learned all about choosing friends, and being kind to others, and not judging someone by how they look and on and on.
And Gary? Well, I can’t say for sure. But he definitely learned a lot more about trusting people—and maybe even about trusting God.
Yet, with all of that wisdom, I still didn’t think it was such a good idea to sit in his empty seat. I mean, there’s also wisdom in not putting yourself in bodily danger, right?
The bus lurched into gear, and I went staggering backward into the nearest empty seat. It was beside a little fifth grade beauty. Hmm, maybe my luck was improving. As an upperclassman in the sixth grade, I figured I’d go ahead and brighten her day by flashing her my famous McDoogle smile. “Hi there,” I said.
Her response was exactly as I expected. “Oh gross. Do you, like, really have to sit here?”
It’s nice to know some things never change.
Now that the introductions were over and I had nothing else to do for the rest of the trip, I reached down and pulled Ol’ Betsy up to my lap.
It’d been a couple of days since I worked on Mutant Man, but as I recall, he and Dr. Ghastly were having a little face-to-face meeting with the ground—at about a zillion miles an hour.
“Quick!” shouts our hero.
“Quick, what?” cries our villain.
“Quick something, we’ve only got 1.4 seconds before impact.” Suddenly, an idea comes to Mutant’s marvelous manly mind. “Wait a minute!”
“We don’t have a minute, we’ve only got 1.——”
“The reverse switch! Hit the reverse switch!”
In a flash the Gorilla reaches over to the Wisdom Sucker Upper and switches it to reverse. Immediately, it quits sucking and starts blowing. As the air rushes out of the Sucker Upper’s sucker, it slows their fall until they gently float to the earth.
But something else happens. Since the Sucker Upper is no longer sucking but blowing, all that wisdom it had sucked up is pouring out on everything and everybody.
Suddenly, mice and cats are playing together, meter maids are putting quarters INTO parking meters, tel-evangelists are begging to GIVE money away, and, most importantly, supernerds are no longer wearing white socks with black shoes.
Even our hero and bad guy are affected....
“Isn’t this just too wonderful,” sniffs Dr. Ghastly as he brushes the tears from his eyes, “the way everybody’s suddenly so wise?”
“It’s truly beautiful,” Mutant Man bawls as he blows into his superhero hanky.
“Listen,�
�� Gorilla suggests. He throws his big hairy arm around our good guy. “Why don’t you come on over to my place for dinner tonight?”
“No kidding?”
“Sure. I’d love for you to meet the family——especially my sister. What a cook! She makes great spaghetti and banana balls. And you’ll love her peanut meringue pie.”
“Why, that would just be so supernifty, Doctor.”
“Please, call me Ghastly, all my friends do. Oh, and if we hurry, we can catch the last part of The Brady Bunch.”
“Really? That’s my favorite TV show of all time!”
“What a coincidence; mine too! Do you remember the time Peter went around tape-recording Marsha and Cindy and Greg and everybody?”
“Yeah! And then Alice and the kids got together....”
And so the new friends stroll off into the sunset, arm in arm——stronger, kinder, and, most importantly, wiser than ever before.
And yet, somehow we suspect the adventures of our superhero are not quite over. Somehow we know there is other evil in other parts of the galaxy. And somehow we know that wherever evil lurks, there we will find, Ta-Da-DAAA! (there’s that good guy music again) the one and only...Mutant Man McDoogle!