by Cody Wagner
Right after dinner, I pounded on everyone’s door. Most everyone looked at me as if my eyelashes were a foot long, but I ignored the embarrassment and told them we were having a mandatory meeting.
Fifteen minutes later, the lobby was full and I tried explaining what was happening. At first, some of the students shifted around, bored. However, by the time I finished, every eye was glued to me. One girl glanced at a garbage can in the corner.
“How do you know this?” someone asked.
Jimmy raised his hand, looking rather proud. “I told him.”
“Him?” a random girl said.
“Jimmy wouldn’t know the truth if it punched him in the face,” said someone else.
I looked around, stunned. How many people know about him? Then I had another thought. What if they’re right? I was so sucked into the story, I stopped trying to determine if he was being honest. Thinking back to the conversation for a second, I remembered his voice was perfectly normal. Besides, there was no way he could have made this up.
Everyone had a hard time believing it, though. Jimmy must have been more unpopular than I thought because the entire room checked out. Jimmy’s comment single-handedly deflated everyone. I looked over at him. He clenched his jaw, like he was fighting off tears.
“It’s true,” he said. But he didn’t back it up. A couple people snickered.
“Just like when you told us you survived acid rain?” a girl said.
“I did,” Jimmy squeaked.
“That’s not helping,” I hissed at him.
Jimmy looked at a couple guys, eyes pleading. “You were here last year. Tell them!”
They ignored him and left. Apparently, it was more important for them to distance themselves from Jimmy than to get involved.
“With a pumpkin that big and guards always there, how are the teams supposed to win?” asked some girl, obviously patronizing Jimmy. I looked at him, picturing him on the toilet, losing the pumpkin bash last year. My heart sank; he didn’t deserve this. Before I could speak up for him, Cassie stood.
“Raids.”
Jimmy gaped at her.
“Raids?” I asked.
“Yes. At some appointed time, one dorm raids the field and overpowers the guards.”
“How did you know?” Jimmy said.
“It’s the only thing that makes sense.”
It did make sense, but people weren’t buying it. That, or they didn’t care. Jimmy’s involvement spread like poison and they started shuffling out. Desperate, I climbed up onto the coffee table and stomped my foot. That only earned me a griping from the resident assistant. Within a few minutes, the lobby was empty.
I looked at Jimmy, conflicted. He was clearly upset. Who wouldn’t be? On the other hand, he sort of brought this on himself. Frustrated and not knowing what else to do, I went to our room without another word.
The days leading up to the Campus Clean Up were pretty tense. Wherever I went, older students made noises and gestures. At dinner, one girl dumped meatloaf into a bag, laughing. I guess she was collecting it for the pumpkin. Cocky. I guess, if I were in their situation, I’d be cocky, too.
In the midst of the bragging, the younger dorm still wouldn’t do anything. They were seeing all the gloating, just like I was. But they buried their stupid heads in the sand and pretended nothing was wrong. I wanted to tell them they were being like the people who ignored the Nazis. But I didn’t really know who those people were or exactly what happened. I should have paid more attention in history.
By Thursday, I didn’t think we stood a chance. The whole situation blew—the older dorm had more experience and got more time to prepare. Every time I walked onto the exercise field, I was tempted to smash the pumpkin right then and there.
To make matters worse, the next Orphan Jimmy comic showed Jimmy squatting over a toilet. A huge pumpkin sat in the background with a victory flag on top of it.
“I heard we win every year,” Roze said, at dinner on Friday. She held her head so high, I thought it might snap off.
“We’re already making plans,” she continued, “What are y’all doing?”
I glared at her and said, “We’ve already had one meeting with the entire dorm.” It wasn’t a lie.
Roze laughed. “Yeah, I heard how that went.” She was looking at Cassie.
I turned to Cassie. “You told her? Do you just want to hand them the victory now?”
“I don’t care about the stupid game. Jimmy feels awful.”
I looked at the empty chair next to me.
“He should stop lying so much,” I said.
Cassie stared at me. “You don’t know a thing about him.”
She was right, but I wasn’t sure I cared to know, so I spat, “I’d spend most of the time trying to decide what was a lie and what wasn’t.”
Cassie’s eyes flared. I had never seen her mad before. “He’s just a kid who wants to fit in. I’m sure you understand.”
With that, she stood and left.
I gaped at Roze. “What did you tell her?”
“Don’t involve me in this. I have a game to win.”
I wanted to throw my lasagna right in her face.
By the following morning, as everyone gathered on the field for Campus Clean-up Day, I was more convinced than ever we were going to lose. Frustrated, I looked over at Jimmy, who stared at the ground with Cassie practically hugging him. His week had been pretty rough and my heart sank a little. I told myself if we were destined to lose, I might as well be a little nicer to Jimmy; he was just trying to help. However, if I found out he was lying about this whole Pumpkin Bash thing, our sort-of friendship was over.
By eight o’clock, half the staff was gathered in the field by the pumpkin, handing out heavy duty gloves and extra strength trash bags. I noticed some of the older students had ratty duffel bags that were already full. I could only imagine what was in them. I pulled my eyes away as the staff began talking. After a brief speech about what we’d be cleaning (the grounds, top to bottom), everybody took off in small groups.
The clean-up took all day. True to my word about being nicer, I invited Jimmy to join Cassie and me. He would have tagged along anyway, but his face lit up the second I asked. In spite of the idea of losing, I felt better and, together, we began scooping up trash.
Let me just say that a bunch of students make a ginormous, humongous mess.
I totally got the moral message from the event—after picking up about a million paper cups, I made up my mind to be cleaner. Soon the cups became a joy to behold. Especially when I came across half a hamburger, covered in maggots, next to a pile of trees. Closing my eyes to keep from throwing up, I kicked it into my bag with my foot. I debated leaving it there so it wouldn’t make its way into the pumpkin, but my competitive fire was starting to build. By the end of the day, everyone would believe Jimmy. That gave us some time to think of a plan.
Unless the older dorm raids tonight!
The thought freaked me out and I started whining.
“They won’t do it tonight,” Cassie said.
“How do you know?” I said.
“They’ll want to rub it in and make us nervous.” She nodded as if the statement were fact. “They’re going to wait a few days.”
I couldn’t argue the point. If anything, I desperately wanted it to be true so we’d have time to come up with an idea.
Seven hours later, everyone returned to the exercise field, holding trash bags away from our faces. Someone had cut the top off the pumpkin, making it resemble a huge, saggy garbage bag. A few students in my dorm shuffled nervously, looking at Jimmy. I glared at them, still hoping he was right, then glanced down at my bag. It seemed to be squirming in my hand.
Sticking my tongue out in disgust, I looked away as Principal Wolcott strolled out in front of the pumpkin. I hadn’t seen him since our night meeting and became nervous. Authority figures always made me uneasy. And he was still so regal and commanding, although he smiled pleasantly.
&n
bsp; Just like at orientation, Wolcott looked at all of us then clasped his hands.
“All right. Now if everyone will empty their bags into the pumpkin.”
That did it.
A shockwave of terror washed over the younger students. I shot looks to as many as I could, telling them, We told you so. Jimmy smiled and stood proud for the first time in days. The rest of my dorm cowered as we got in line to dump our garbage.
By the time it was my turn, the pumpkin was almost full. Curious, I leaned over and gagged. It was a giant curdled mess. Old lasagna and hot dogs swam in puddles of rotten milk. Moldy cheese garnished the butt cuisine. Pulling my head back, I dumped my bag and held it out so I wouldn’t be contaminated.
After a few more students had dumped their garbage, Wolcott held up a hand. “OK we’re all full. The rest of you put your bags in the dumpsters by the field.”
When everyone was done, Wolcott lectured us about the importance of keeping the campus clean (I’d certainly be using the trash cans more). Then he launched into an explanation of the Pumpkin Bash, while my dorm looked ready to poop themselves. Too bad there wasn’t more room in the pumpkin.
Jimmy was pretty much right about everything. Of course, Wolcott put a more positive spin on it, saying it was dorm versus dorm, created to foster cleanliness and teamwork. It didn’t come off so positive, especially when he said the losing team had to clean the mess barehanded; no shovels, no bags, nothing.
Walking a wide arc around the pumpkin, Wolcott proceeded to make suggestions.
“You can have as many guards as you want. But I recommend only two or three. One year, a dorm lost because they all tried watching it 24/7. Within a few days no one could stay awake.” He chuckled at the memory and walked over to a large post stuck next to the pumpkin. It held a large bronze bell attached with screws. He grabbed the handle and rang the bell. It was so insanely loud, a bunch of people covered their ears.
“Ringing the bell summons the dorms. Everyone will come running, trust me. Be careful not to cry wolf. It usually backfires.” He was smiling, but didn’t say anything more about it. A guy next to me raised his hand. Wolcott looked at him and said, “Yes Mr. Salfiti?”
The kid, clearly surprised Wolcott knew his name, said, “Um, what if no one wins by Halloween.”
Wolcott grinned. “The game always ends, one way or another. Trust me.”
I looked at Roze, who mouthed, We always win.
That evening, the entire dorm huddled in the lobby. A few people shifted with guilt, but I wasn’t concerned about rubbing it in their faces anymore; this was about victory.
“What happens if it looks like they’re going to win?” someone was asking.
“Whoever’s on guard breaks the pumpkin,” I said.
A group of students looked around, uneasily, as one said, “But then the guards have to clean it.”
That was one of the last rules Wolcott explained. “If the pumpkin breaks before it’s pushed across a line,” he’d said, “the guards from both dorms during that shift clean it up. No one is allowed to help them.”
“It’s better than losing,” I said.
A few people shrugged, like they’d rather lose and clean the mess as a huge group. I couldn’t really blame them. The thing reeked and would take hours for four people to clean.
A few students pointed out the older dorm always won.
“Stop thinking like that,” I said. “We just need a plan.”
After Cassie convinced everyone the older dorm would wait a few days, we decided the best thing to do was wait ourselves. Most of us were new to this and could use some time to gather information. We’d hold nightly meetings to reveal anything we learned. Hopefully it would be enough to plan a real course of action.
* * * * *
It was impossible to concentrate on classes that week. I couldn’t stop staring out the window toward the exercise field (“Is your neck broken?” asked Ms. Meeks). Nights weren’t much better. I dreamed about Luke rubbing animal guts in my face. And I woke up what seemed like every hour, sure the older dorm was raiding that very minute. The morning after our first meeting, my alarm went off, I leapt out of bed—thinking it was the pumpkin bell—and ran out to the hall. Jimmy about passed out laughing at me. I changed my alarm tone to guitars after that.
The only comfort I received came during my guard shifts. Sure, I didn’t want to be the one to lose everything. But I felt pretty capable—I was feeling athletic after a couple months of gym. Consequently, I found myself volunteering for the most night shifts. People were happy with that, as no one wanted to be up from 2:00 to 3:00 AM when we had classes the next morning.
Admittedly, my first few shifts were extremely boring. My partner and I usually ended up passing the time trading barbs with the older dorm. Roze purposely chose my shift the second night, and we ended up on the ground laughing at each other’s insults. When she sneezed in the pumpkin, I thought I was going to die, my sides hurt so bad.
I didn’t like her cockiness, though. She was certain they were going to win, which made me wonder what they had planned. It must have been something awesome, which was frustrating because our nightly meetings weren’t going anywhere.
For the most part, the meetings served no other purpose than to announce, “The other guard touched the pumpkin and I freaked out,” or, “It smells like a clothesline of dirty diapers.”
By the fourth night, our inaction simmered everyone into a panic. The older students were going to make a move soon; they had to. Their cockiness was getting worse and worse.
After talking for hours, we decided on a raid the following night. When my shift ended at 3:00 in the morning, I was going to ring the bell. Sure, it would alert the enemy, but our dorm would make its way to the field at 2:30. By the time the older students reacted to the bell, they would arrive just in time to see us win. It was risky, but we wanted to rub it in their faces.
We also decided to post a guard at their dorm entrance, in case they raided sooner. A fourth guard was assigned to circle our building, to make sure they weren’t spying on us. This was serious business.
* * * * *
The night of our raid, nervous energy attacked me as I waited for my shift. I thought about going early, but anything out of the ordinary might tell the older dorm we were up to something. Instead, I paced around my room, humming, until 1:45. (“I kind of want to break the pumpkin myself, just to end this,” said Cassie, at least twice.)
At exactly 1:46, I headed to the door.
Jimmy jumped up and grabbed his coat.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Going with you.”
“No. We can’t have more than two people. It’ll be too obvious.”
“But I’m on shift with you tonight.”
I squinted at him. “You are?”
“Yeah. I traded so I could help you.”
I looked at Cassie. “No one told me about a shift change.”
“You’re barely passing algebra because you won’t do your homework, but this you’re obsessed with?”
I made a face at her, then studied Jimmy. The thought of him going made me anxious. Would he screw it up? My skepticism melted away when I realized he wanted to be there at the end, despite losing last year. I had to give him credit; that was pretty brave, even if his goal was just to hang out with me.
“All right, come on,” I said, heading outside.
I knew right away that Jimmy was nervous because he chattered in my ear the whole time: “Do you think this will work? At least it’s better than last year. Just make sure you don’t eat anything they give you. I haven’t been to the cafeteria today. I am starving, though.”
True, I was as antsy as he sounded, but I motioned for him to be quiet.
“We don’t want to give anything away,” I whispered.
He nodded, closed his mouth, and crept with me.
Everything was perfectly normal when we arrived at the pumpkin. Darrin stood there, on shift with
Tracey, and they whispered to each other, trying to make us nervous. A few minutes later, they were relieved, and, as they left, Tracey made farting noises at Jimmy, who became very interested in the grass. I didn’t say anything for fear of giving our plan away. That’s totally something I would have done (“Be nice to Jimmy or I’ll start our raid early!”).
In an attempt to make sure everything was in order, I walked around the pumpkin, which smelled like the bathroom right after my dad got out. Nothing out of the ordinary. Feeling hopeful about our chances, I sought out the replacement guard for the older dorm.
It was Timothy.
I’m sure my eyeballs grew about ten times their normal size.
“Blaize. Long time no see,” he said, grinning. I nodded at him, but couldn’t respond. My mind raced, thinking of all the questions still lurking around.
“Hi Timothy,” Jimmy said.
Timothy smiled at Jimmy and shook his hand. Instead of letting go, he held on and made weird noises as he flung Jimmy’s arm around. I tensed up. Please let him be nice. Jimmy laughed along with him and mimicked the noises. Timothy grinned and put his arm around Jimmy.
“How’s your second year?” he asked.
“It’s great.” Jimmy grinned at me. “I love my new roomies.”
I wasn’t sure I deserved the praise, so I kept silent. Timothy shot me a grateful nod.
“Sorry I haven’t got to see you much this year,” Timothy said to Jimmy.
Jimmy shook his head. “It’s fine. I know you’re busy with the farm and stuff.”
“The farm?” I asked, thrilled to have finally said something.
“Yeah,” Timothy said. “We grow our own food here. Didn’t they tell you that on the tour?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Oh. Well, it’s the field at the northwest corner. You should come check it out sometime.”
I suddenly felt like I had a fever. Timothy asked me to join him! I guess I hadn’t made as big a fool of myself as I’d thought at orientation. Wait. He didn’t necessarily say he’d be there. He just said to check it out. For all I knew, he’d dive behind a hay bale or something when I arrived.