Noah Green Saves the World

by Laura Toffler-Corrie

  “You think God is punishing us?” I ask.

  “Maybe She is,” Mia says. “Or maybe punishment is a harsh word. Maybe She’s just trying to teach us something.”

  “That’s not really fair if we get squashed before we get a chance to learn,” I say. “I think it’s kind of a test. According to Ari the Lion from the sixteenth century and Nathan Blum—well—now, God wants us to fix the world. That’s what we’re wired to do. And the world gets better when you do good things, ’cause the good things bring light. And the light snuffs out the dark, dark being evil. And then there’s a bunch of mystical stuff that’s involved, but I’m not clear on that part.”

  Mia nods pensively.

  “And light is what the world needs,” I finish with a flourish.

  “I thought it was love,” Mia says. “All the major poets and lyricists talk about the world needing love.”

  “I guess that works too.” I shrug.

  Mia leans back in her seat, cocks her head, and stares at me. I can’t read her expression at all, which makes me anxious. I wonder if there’s something hanging out of my nose or she’s thinking she doesn’t like me anymore.

  “So what’s the plan?” she says, slurping her pear juice. “You’re gonna need one, you know.”

  I don’t know what to say but, fortunately, it’s about noon and everyone’s filing in.

  Simon, Tyler and Josh head my way, but when they catch sight of us, they hesitate. I wave them over.

  “Hi, Mia,” Simon says, sliding into the seat and grinning at me over her head. Tyler and Josh sit down too, and we’re all kind of uncomfortable.

  “Mia knows,” I say.

  “Oh,” Tyler blurts, surprised.

  “Um,” Josh says, “weren’t we gonna, like, keep this to ourselves?”

  “Boys club much?” Mia cocks her eyebrow. “You need some female empowerment energy here.”

  They exchange annoyed glances. “What makes you think that?” Josh asks, chewing loudly on a piece tofurky bacon.

  “It’s obvious,” she says. “You don’t have a plan.”

  “We’ve got a plan,” Simon says. “Or . . . we will.”

  “Really?” Mia presses, unconvinced.

  Simon shifts uncertainly.

  This isn’t going well. I need to draw on the team-building skills I learned from Mrs. Burns, the school social worker, by introducing a common goal or, in this case, a common enemy.

  “She saved me from the Rottweilers,” I announce.

  “Mike and Jake?” Simon glances up from his plate. “What happened?”

  “They know we’re onto them. They dragged me into the woods. They were gonna beat me up.”

  “Don’t tell me,” Josh says around a mouthful of food, looking disbelieving. “Mia scared them off with one of her songs.” Josh holds up his palms and pretends to be afraid. “Ahh! Don’t sing to me! I’ll do anything!”

  Tyler and Simon guffaw.

  “So not funny,” Mia says.

  At that moment, Jyll & Co. glide past.

  “Well now, that makes sense,” Jyll sneers at Mia.

  “Yes, it does,” Mia says loudly, shooting her a sunny smile.

  Jyll looks surprised for a second before she gets all snide again. The three of them click their sandals to the other side of the room.

  “Guys,” I say, “you don’t understand. Mia’s incredible with a slingshot.”

  Simon stops just before the fork hits his mouth, and Tyler’s expression shifts to interested.

  “A slingshot?” Josh says. “What is this, the 1950s? Did you bring Lassie too?”

  “You gotta see it,” I insist.

  “Afraid?” Mia narrows her eyes at Josh.

  “Yeah, right!”

  “Free period’s next. You’re on.” Mia glares at him, crumples her napkin, and chucks it onto her plate. “You and me. Behind the outhouses.”

  “Way behind,” Tyler suggests, gagging.

  “Let’s go!” I smile.

  Mia, Tyler, and Josh slide out the door, but I bump straight into Lily. Her gaze swings over to Mia.

  “Where are you all going?” she asks suspiciously. “And why didn’t I see you at the campfire last night?”

  “Hi, Lily!” Simon steps between us. “Don’t you look nice today!”

  “Covered in gray muck from the potter’s wheel? I seriously don’t think so,” Lily replies, stepping around him. “What are you up to, Noah?”

  “Nothing.” I swallow hard.

  “Hmm,” Lily says. “Not convinced.”

  “Don’t worry. He’ll stay out of trouble. I’ll watch him.” Simon winks and throws his arm around my shoulder.

  “Uh-huh,” Lily says. “And who’s gonna watch you?”

  “How about you?” Simon leans in, all charming.

  A soft pink blush crawls up Lily’s cheeks. She quickly flips her hair and pretends she’s not flattered, then leans in to me so close that our eyeballs are almost touching.

  “Just,” she says. “Don’t. Embarrass. Me.”

  Chapter 24

  Crack!

  The rock hits a corner of the outhouse, chipping off a tiny piece of shingle.

  “No way!” Josh exclaims. “I had that shot!”

  “You need to feel the trajectory of the rock,” Mia instructs. “Like, in your breath, in your chest.”

  Mia aims for the back of the door and lets her rock fly. It pings loudly and hits right in the center, making a large mark. “See?” she says.

  “Hey!” a voice yells from inside. “Cut it out!”

  “Got it.” Josh nods solemnly. “Breathe. Aim.”

  Chris from Bunk 3 stumbles from the outhouse, tucking his shirt into his shorts. “You mind?!” He scowls at us as he stomps off.

  “I thought you checked to see if it was empty,” Tyler says to Josh.

  “No, dude. I only go in there when absolutely necessary,” Josh answers. “I thought you checked.”

  This will make awesome footage for my opus, I think happily as I adjust my camera headpiece. My mates and me, horsing around, damaging camp property, strategizing to save the world.

  “Can I have a go?” Simon reaches for the slingshot.

  Mia gives him a quick overview of slingshot placement—explaining something about aim, velocity, cleansing meditative breaths, and letting it fly. Which he does.

  “Yes!” Simon pumps his fist in the air. “A perfect shot.”

  “Not bad,” Mia says reluctantly.

  “He plays soccer,” I announce, proud that my best mate and my potential girlfriend are bonding over sports.

  “It’s not exactly the sa—” Simon pauses mid-syllable. “Never mind.”

  “Free period’s almost over,” Tyler says, checking his phone. “We better come up with a plan.”

  Mia and I sit on flat rocks, and Simon and Tyler sit on the ground, making a circle.

  “So . . . um . . . what do we do?” Tyler says.

  “I dunno,” I reply. “But we have to move fast. According to our sources, Agatha is set to strike within weeks. That means Pops and George have to get the tablet, get to Washington, show the government the tablet, convince the government that they’re ready to go public, and give the government enough time to destroy the asteroid. That’s a lot.”

  “How are we gonna find the tablet?” Mia asks.

  “I bet Mike and Jake know where it is,” I reply.

  “So we follow them and, hopefully, they’ll lead us to it,” Simon suggests.

  “What if they don’t?” Tyler asks.

  We ponder this for a second.

  “Then we’re in trouble,” I say.

  We all agree to that.

  In the distance, Yipsy’s whistle blows.

  “So, step one,” Simon says, “we follow Jake and Mike. Tyler, Josh, Noah, and I will slip out after dinner.”

  “Wait,” Tyler interrupts. “It’s Hangout Thursday. Nathan will probably notice if we don’t show up.”

 
“We can meet here then,” I say. “Afterward.”

  “No, too much traffic by the outhouse,” Josh says.

  “What about over there where the path ends?” Mia suggests. “Past the signpost, a few yards down the embankment.”

  Yipsy’s whistle blows sharply again.

  “Right.” Simon nods.

  “I’ll send a Sal note to Pops and George,” I say.

  “It’s on!” Josh and Tyler slap hands.

  As the guys head for the bunks, Mia grabs my sleeve. “I just wanted to say thanks.”

  I turn to her. “For what?”

  “For, like, including me,” she says. “And for reminding me about stuff . . . that, like, I care about.”

  She takes a step toward me. She’s closer than she’s ever been. She smells a little like guitar-string resin. I know this because my friend Bailey from film club plays the cello.

  It’s already a hot day, and here in the woods, the morning dew mists and sizzles off the flat green leaves, causing me to wonder, what do I smell like? Are my armpits rank? Also, what’s tickling my ankle? I fight the urge to lean down and scratch it.

  Is Mia about to kiss me? If so, I really regret not brushing my teeth for, like, four days.

  “So, um,” Mia continues, “I hope we can, like, save the world. It’s a really timely cause and not even overexposed like other causes. We could totally spearhead the movement. I could write penetrating songs, and you could make meaningful films. It could be like the ’60s, but with social media.”

  She steps in closer. “But if we don’t save the world in time, we could, like, die soon.”

  “Yeah,” I say.

  And, wow, I’m super nervous.

  “Have you ever kissed anyone?” she asks, leaning in so close that I can count the small pores in her nose. There’re more than twenty.

  I don’t know if I know how to kiss, and that thing tickling my leg just bit me. I reach for my ankle just as she dives in, and our heads smack together.

  “OW!” we both exclaim at once.

  Then there’s just a lot of talking over each other like, “Sorry, sorry!” “No, sorry.” “It’s all right. Are you all right?” “Yeah, yeah. You?” “Yeah. You?” “Fine.” “You sure?”

  Yipsy’s whistle shrieks long and loud. Last call.

  It’s super awkward for a few seconds. I readjust my headpiece, and she looks all embarrassed. Eventually, she tucks her hair behind her ear, clears her throat, and jumps in front of me onto the path. I scramble up behind her.

  Wow! Saving the world and almost getting my first kiss! I guess coming to Camp C was the right thing to do after all, because I can’t imagine that the DLFC could be any more exciting than this!

  Tyler, Simon, Josh, and I slip back to the bunks. After a few hours’ sleep, all I can do is lie awake and think about our plan. Or more specifically, all the holes in our plan.

  What if Mike and Jake have no idea where the tablet is? What if they do but don’t want to give it to us? What if their contact is a big angry guy with no neck who wears a trench coat and wants to whack us? What if, by the time George drives his usual three-miles-an-hour over to the camp and spends another ten minutes parking the car, we’ve already been whacked? What if squatting in the woods results in me getting tick bites in places I don’t want the doctor to examine?

  The rest of the day is like being in some moody film-noir Hitchcock movie, moving through camp in slo-mo, nodding to friends and acquaintances and catching the eyes of all the main players.

  On the way to Virtual Bungee Jumping, Tyler, Simon, and I share a secretive look.

  In Armchair Travel to the Precambrian Age, I shoot Josh a sly thumbs-up, and he winks.

  Strolling past the baseball field, where I almost get hit by a rogue ball, Mia and I exchange shy nods.

  During CPR for Future Doctors, I spy the Rottweilers swinging over the lake on tire swings. They narrow their eyes angrily at me before belly-flopping into the lake.

  And throughout the day, I repeatedly pass Lily and her friends, and she pretends not to see me. But by the fourth time, her bro-dar kicks in. She glares directly into my face. She knows something’s up.

  I think I’ll miss her.

  Chapter 25

  It’s about an hour before Operation Save the World, and I realize I have no way of contacting Sal. So I decide to call Pops on his phone. Then it’s about fifteen minutes of him hanging up on me by accident, re-dialing, dropping the call, and shouting “Dagnabbit!” into the receiver.

  I finally text him: Send Sal.

  He answers with a garbled, super long text followed by about twenty ridiculous emoticons that make no sense at all.

  By now, it’s time for Hangout Thursday. Kids amble in from all corners of camp, following the awesome smell of barbecue like it’s a long smoky finger from a cartoon beckoning them toward the festivities on the great lawn.

  I stand at the edge of the tetherball court, trying to look inconspicuous, and turn slowly so that my camera headpiece can catch the 360-degree mood of the scene. It’s a dusky twilight, and everyone’s laughing, eating, and horsing around. The counselors are lighting fire pits and tiki torches as music blares.

  Yipsy’s sitting with Nurse Leibowitz, sloppily eating roasted potatoes. Nurse Leibowitz is slurping soup and squinting into the crowd like she’s just waiting for someone to choke or fall or get bitten by something that requires emergency EpiPen intervention.

  All around, friendships are being forged, and I wonder: Will some kids be friends for life? Will some come back year after year and then become counselors and then become Yipsys? Will my friendships with my mates last? I sure hope so.

  Suddenly, I feel sentimental about camp, even though I’m still here. In my mind, I flash forward to months from now, when I’ll be staring out the window in algebra, thinking back on just this moment. I know I’ll miss camp a lot.

  The sky darkens as I slip away to the designated meet-up spot. Behind me, the sounds and sights of camp life fade.

  “Hey, pssst!”

  I startle as Simon comes up behind me.

  “Hey,” I say softly. “Let’s go.”

  “Um, about that,” Simon says, his eyes darting away from mine. “I sort of have, um, something I have to do.”

  “Whaddaya mean?” I ask, feeling uneasy at the bottom of my stomach.

  “Well, ya see, some of my mates are having their big match, and it’s in real time, in just about two minutes.” He checks his phone. “And I really need to see it.”

  “Can’t somebody record it so you can watch it later?”

  “No!” Simon shakes his head emphatically.

  “Well . . . can’t you miss it?” I try. “This is kind of important.”

  “My mates back home are counting on me,” Simon says defensively.

  “But we’re counting on you to help save the world!” I remind him, getting a little angry now.

  “Noah,” Simon says, checking his phone again, “all this has been fun to play at, but—well—you know this isn’t real.”

  “Whaddaya mean?”

  “I mean, it’s been cool to talk about saving the world and such, but it’s all . . . rubbish,” he says.

  “Whaddaya mean?’

  “Stop saying whaddaya mean!” Simon snaps.

  “You don’t believe it?” I say, incredulous. “How can you say that? We have proof.”

  “Actually, we have squat,” Simon says.

  “Whaddaya—I mean how can you say that?”

  Simon’s phone pings, and a tiny soccer game flashes onto the screen. “Gotta go. So, right then . . .” Simon pivots.

  “Wait a minute!” I grab his sleeve. “That’s not fair. What about us mates?”

  “Noah.” Simon now sounds like he’s talking to a little kid he feels sorry for. “I’ll tell you what. Tomorrow we’ll do something—take a canoe ride or something, all right?”

  “But you saw the video! You heard the stories! You saw the Rottwei
lers!” I say that last part in a whisper.

  Simon sighs sharply and rolls his eyes. “I saw an old recording with poor sound quality. I talked to George and your pops, who aren’t the most reliable sources. Mike and Jake are stealing some stuff. So what? I have more important things to think about right now.”

  We stare at each other for a few seconds, neither one of us wanting to be the one who blinks. Somewhere over the lake, a lone loon makes one of those weird, high-pitched loony laughs.

  “Yeah, well, guess what?” I finally say, surprised by how angry Simon’s made me. “Your important things are in another country, thousands of miles away. You’re here. And probably will be for a long time. And here is here. Here is real!”

  “You know what your problem is?” Simon retorts. “You don’t know even what real is. Plus, you’re a colossal pain in my—”

  Simon stops abruptly and chews his cheek like he’s trying hard to restrain himself. His gaze shifts off toward the lake.

  “Good luck saving the world,” he finally says. I watch him turn and trot back up the path, and when he’s gone, I watch the nothing where he was. And I stand like that for about five minutes.

  The night is darker now. I check the time, jog up the path, and squint into the woods.

  Where is everyone? Have they all deserted me? Do they all think, like Simon, that our quest is rubbish? Or, worse than that, are they really not my mates?

  Maybe Simon is right. Maybe I don’t live in the real world. What if I’m not real? What if I live in an alternate reality or I’m someone else’s dream? I pinch myself to make sure I exist, and it hurts. Also standing all tense and still in the bushes has made the muscles in my thighs ache, so chances are I’m real.

  My thoughts are interrupted by a bunch of guffaws and snorts. From the other direction, Mike and Jake head toward the historic site.

  Chapter 26

  I hunker down and try to stay calm. I have to think. “Think! I mean it,” I scold myself. “Think. Okay. Go!”

  While I’m trying to decide what to think about, Mike and Jake come stomping down the path and start digging—grunting and thwacking into the dirt in rhythmic movements. They discover a few shards of this and that, grunt, pass the pieces back and forth, and chuck them into their sack.