Sports Camp

by Rich Wallace

  They could see a hint of grayish green shell beneath the water. And then the creature was gone, slipping below the surface and out of sight.

  “Big Joe,” Tony said, his mouth open and his eyes wide.

  “Definitely,” Riley said. “I’m pretty sure I saw him under the water during the swim race. But there’s no question that was him just now.”

  The whistle blew again, and the counselor with the megaphone demanded that all boats return. Tony and Eldon picked up the oars and started rowing harder.

  Riley kept staring at that spot on the lake as it receded in the distance. He’d only half believed those stories before. He’d wanted to think that a giant snapper could live in a lake like this, undisturbed for more than a century, offering an occasional glimpse of himself to worried campers. Like the Loch Ness Monster or Bigfoot. Now Riley’d seen it for himself.

  “Too bad we didn’t have a camera,” Tony said.

  “That’s what everybody says,” Eldon replied. “Nobody’s ever caught that thing on film. That why it’s legendary.”

  They were quiet now as they moved smoothly across the lake. The rain increased and soaked their shirts, but none of them cared.

  Riley looked up a few times when lightning flashed, but he wasn’t scared. The thrill of seeing that turtle had him elated.

  They were nearly to the dock when the counselor blew his whistle again. “Move, boys!” he yelled harshly. It was the same counselor who’d cost them the water-polo game with his last-second penalty call.

  Tony steered the boat to the dock. “We are moving,” he grumbled. Coming to a stop, he set his tackle box and the fishing rods on the dock.

  “Out of the boat!” the counselor said. “We’ve been calling you in for twenty minutes. You have to listen when you’re out that far.”

  “We heard you,” Tony said. “We were all the way on the other side.”

  “I could ban you from the water for the rest of the week!”

  “We got back here as fast as we could.”

  Riley couldn’t contain his excitement. “We saw Big Joe!”

  The counselor scowled. “Sure you did.”

  “It was definitely one of the Joes,” Tony said. “Way out by the totem pole.”

  The counselor shook his head. “Listen, this camp’s been in business for twenty-seven years. Thousands of kids have swum in this lake; we do the across-the-lake race every summer. You think we could get away with having a giant turtle biting people’s feet off? Some lawyer would put us out of business in two seconds.”

  “We saw it,” Riley said firmly.

  The counselor’s voice softened a little, but not much. “There’s some big fish in this lake. Once in a while a carp’ll break the surface, especially during a storm. That’s what you saw. If anything.”

  Riley looked back across the lake. All of the boats were in now, and the rain was pelting down on the surface. There were even some waves breaking against the dock.

  He’d keep his mouth shut. But he knew what he’d seen. That’d been a turtle. A big one.

  CAMP OLYMPIA BULLETIN

  Tuesday, August 10

  CABIN 5 CLINGS TO OVERALL LEAD

  Zevon Triumphant in Bow-and-Arrow Blitz

  Eddie Zevon of Cabin 5 emerged as the winner of Monday’s archery contest, hitting two bull’s-eyes and coming close with two other shots. Troy Hiller (6) was second, with Omar Ventura (2) third.

  Zevon’s points helped Cabin 5 hold on to its narrow lead in the points race with 53, but Cabin 3 has moved up to second with 52 on the strength of Sunday’s cross-country win. The other cabins are tightly bunched behind.

  Major points will be awarded Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday in basketball, softball, and water polo.

  Play-off Schedule

  Tonight: Basketball

  Semifinals, 7 p.m.: 1 vs. 4 followed by 3 vs. 5

  Wednesday: Basketball

  Fifth-place game (2 vs. 6), 2 p.m.

  Third-place game, 4 p.m.

  Championship, 8:30 p.m.

  Wednesday: Softball

  Semifinals, 9 a.m.: 1 vs. 3 followed by 2 vs. 5

  Thursday: Softball

  Fifth-place game (4 vs. 6), 9 a.m.

  Third-place game, 10:30 a.m.

  Championship, 1 p.m.

  Thursday: Water polo

  Semifinals, 3:30 p.m.: 2 vs. 6 followed by 3 vs. 4

  Friday: Water polo

  Fifth-place game (1 vs. 5), 9 a.m.

  Third-place game, 10:15 a.m.

  Championship, 11:30 a.m.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Air Ball!

  “Looks to me like we’ve taken the lead,” Barry said, climbing out of the lake and slapping hands with his teammates. “That’s fifteen points right there.”

  Cabin 3 had just won the eight-man swimming relay, with each camper covering one length of the water-polo area.

  “And we’re the only team that made the semis in all three major sports,” Vinnie announced. “That Big Joe Trophy is going home with us!”

  Riley shook some water off his arms and smiled. He’d raced a strong seventh leg, maintaining the lead. He was well suited for these speed and endurance events. The strength and accuracy games like basketball and softball were where he stunk.

  They all knew that the trophy would actually be staying here at camp, but CABIN 3—JERSEY CITY, NJ would be engraved on it for this season if they won. The winning team members would all be going home with gold-colored medals, just like in the real Olympics, with silver medals for second place and bronze for third.

  Bringing home a gold medal would be cool.

  “Now we rest up for tonight,” Barry said. Their semifinal basketball game would be a rematch with Cabin 5, which had trounced them a week earlier. “We are rolling now. Nobody’s gonna slow us down.”

  Riley groaned as he made his way up the lunch line. It was make-your-own-sandwich day, but the main offerings were bologna and cheese. The cheese looked hard and dried out. He opted for peanut butter again.

  “Gross,” said Eldon, who was next in line. “Guess we’re supposed to live on candy bars from the Trading Post.”

  “At least they have bananas today.” Riley scooped a small amount of salad onto his plate, too.

  They found seats at the end of one of the tables, then went back for “grape drink,” which seemed more like purple sugar water.

  Eldon looked at his plate and winced. “What was it the brochure said? ‘Lavish and healthy dining options at every meal’?” He shook his head slowly. “We’d be better off foraging for acorns in the forest.”

  Riley took a bite of his sandwich. He’d had peanut butter at least once every day so far, but he didn’t really mind. He ate it that often at home, too.

  Barry and Vinnie and Hernando were one table over, laughing and flicking bits of bologna at each other.

  “They never stop, do they?” Eldon said. He began breaking his cheese hunk into smaller squares and stacking them up.

  Riley shrugged. “They’re happy guys,” he said with a bit of sarcasm.

  Eldon’s cheese stack was about two inches tall now, and he topped it with a hunk of cucumber. “Spectacular,” he said.

  “You should be an architect.”

  “I might.”

  “Think we’ll win tonight?”

  Eldon looked across the mess hall, then back at Riley. “They killed us last time. Who knows?” He frowned and picked a thin slice of tomato from his plate, holding it up to the light. “It’s not even red. It’s like a mushy pink. Isn’t August supposed to be prime tomato season?”

  “I don’t think ‘prime’ is the right word for anything that comes out of that kitchen,” Riley said. He took a big mouthful of grape drink, then stood to get a refill. “A few more days of this. As soon as we get home, my parents said they’d take me to Burger King. You want to come with us?”

  “Definitely.”

  Halftime. Cabin 3 held a 21–18 lead, and everyone had played their r
equired quarter except Riley.

  “Think you can handle Rios?” Shawn asked. He had a worried look. Vinnie and Tony were both in foul trouble.

  Johnny Rios was the best shooter in camp. Riley looked out at the court, where Rios and the other Cabin 5 players were warming up for the second half. Riley nodded. “Maybe.”

  Shawn laughed. “That’s what I like to see. Such great confidence.” He put his hand on Riley’s shoulder. “I’ll tell the other guys to try to help you out, but that team has a lot of weapons. Rios is the only one near your height. Everybody else would smother you.”

  Riley gulped. Quarters only lasted eight minutes. Just keep the ball away from me, he thought. And away from Rios.

  But Cabin 5 spotted the mismatch immediately and Rios went to work. He drove for a layup on the first possession and lost Riley with a head fake on the second, swishing a short jumper.

  “Cover him!” Barry urged as they ran up the court.

  Riley looked away. He moved toward the corner, with Rios all over him. No way they’d be passing to Riley.

  Cabin 5 extended the lead to three points a minute later. And as they ran back, Rios didn’t even bother covering Riley. He double-teamed whoever had the ball, and Colin eventually made an errant pass that went out of bounds.

  Seconds later, Rios hit a three-pointer. Cabin 3 hadn’t scored since halftime.

  Barry called a time-out. “He’s killing you,” he said as he walked past Riley, shaking his head.

  Riley didn’t say a word. What did they expect? The guy was like an NBA all-star.

  “Barry, you’ll have to switch to Rios,” Shawn said in the huddle. “Take his man, Riley. He’s got about fifty pounds on you, but he’s slow. Just box him out and try to keep him away from the basket.”

  “Thanks a lot,” Barry muttered to Riley as they walked back onto the court. “Now I gotta run my butt off chasing Rios because you can’t cover anybody.”

  Cabin 5 stuck with its defensive matchups, with Rios running free and nobody covering Riley. So Riley was wide open, and Tony tossed him the ball.

  Riley had a clear shot at the basket, but he was way beyond the three-point line. He dribbled twice and Rios darted over. Riley grabbed the ball with both hands and turned his body, but Rios slapped it loose and shoved him out of the way.

  The whistle blew. Riley’d been fouled. He wouldn’t be shooting, but at least Cabin 3 was getting the ball back.

  Tony walked over to Riley and leaned toward his ear. “Next time he lunges at you, get a shot off,” he said. “If he fouls you again, at least you’ll go to the line.”

  Riley nodded. He hadn’t scored a single point this season. Maybe he could make a free throw.

  Vinnie finally scored, but Cabin 3 was four points behind. Rios hit another three-pointer, leaving Barry stumbling backward.

  Tony brought the ball up and drove toward the basket, stopping at the baseline as Rios and another defender blocked his path. Riley had followed the play and was alone in the corner. Tony flipped him the ball and yelled, “Shoot!”

  The ball slipped out of Riley’s hands and he reached for it, turning his shoulder toward the basket. As he turned back, he saw Rios leaping toward him. So he shot.

  Rios’s hand whacked Riley hard on the shoulder and his momentum sent them both to the floor. The whistle blew again.

  “Foul on number seven, purple,” the referee said. “Five orange shoots three.”

  Riley glanced at the scoreboard. Less than two minutes remained in the quarter. Cabin 5 was up, 30–23.

  “You can put us right back in it,” Tony said, grabbing Riley’s arm.

  “You owe us,” Barry said. He ran both hands over his face, which was dripping with sweat.

  Riley stepped to the line. He’d made just three out of ten in the free-throw contest last week. His hands were shaking.

  “Nice and easy!” Shawn called.

  Riley let out his breath and stared at the basket.

  His first shot hit the back of the rim, rolled to the side, and fell out. Barry groaned. Vinnie clapped and said, “Two more, Night Crawler.”

  Riley shut his eyes quickly, then caught the ball. He crouched slightly, lifted the ball to forehead level, and released. This time it kissed the front of the rim and fell in. Riley felt a big surge of excitement. He watched the scoreboard as the 23 turned to 24.

  “All right! All right,” Barry said, shaking a fist.

  “Another one,” said Hernando.

  But Riley’s third shot didn’t even reach the basket. The Cabin 5 bench erupted with shouts of “Air ball!”

  Riley cursed silently and trotted back to play defense.

  Barry didn’t fare any better than Riley had. Rios added a layup and a fallaway jumper before the buzzer sounded, giving him fourteen points in the third quarter alone.

  Riley sat on the bench with his arms folded tightly for the entire fourth quarter. His teammates were steaming mad when the game ended. They’d lost by twenty-two.

  Can’t blame all that on me, Riley thought. But that didn’t make him feel any better. How could they ever win gold medals after a performance like that?

  CAMP OLYMPIA BULLETIN

  Wednesday, August 11

  BASKETBALL CHAMPIONSHIP TONIGHT

  Fighters and Fortunes Will Vie for Title

  Johnny Rios pumped in a season-high 27 points as the Cabin 5 Fighters thrashed the Cabin 3 Threshers, 51–29, to advance to the basketball title game. The Cabin 4 Fortunes also qualified, edging the Cabin 1 Wonders, 38–35, as Kelvin Dawkins scored 15.

  Play-off pandemonium continues today with softball semifinals this morning and basketball consolation games this afternoon. A full house is expected at the Arena for tonight’s basketball final.

  End-of-Season T-shirt Sale at Trading Post

  Commemorate a sensational two weeks of sports action with a Camp Olympia T-shirt that you can wear all year. Regularly selling for $15, a selection of shirts has been marked down to $13.50 for this week only.

  The sky-blue style is available in XL and XXL, and the “gold medal” yellow model is available in all sizes except M and L.

  The popular dark blue T-shirts are still available at the regular price. They make cherished gifts for parents, friends, and siblings!

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Shooting Stars

  This is so boring, Riley thought, sitting on the top row of the bleachers at the basketball championship. Most of his cabin mates were a couple of rows below him, shoving each other and whooping and not paying any attention to the game.

  Barry and Vinnie were acting pretty full of themselves, having sparked a far better day for Cabin 3. They’d moved into the softball final with an 8–3 win in the morning, then stormed back to take third place in basketball in the afternoon.

  Riley hadn’t done much in either game. He’d drawn a walk and grounded out a couple of times in softball and played an uneventful third quarter of the basketball game, barely touching the ball.

  He figured no one would notice if he slipped out of the gym at halftime. He walked slowly down the creaky old bleachers and out the door.

  It was after nine o’clock, so it was fully dark out. Lots of stars were overhead, and the half-moon was coming up over the lake. Riley headed toward it.

  Just about everybody was at the basketball game, so things were quiet out here. Riley walked down the hill, flicking on his flashlight.

  Just a few more days and he’d be home. Back to eating his parents’ cooking, sleeping in his own bed in his own room, showering in private.

  In less than three weeks he’d be back at school.

  Camp hadn’t been so bad. He’d become friends with Eldon and Tony, and even Barry and Vinnie and Hernando hadn’t treated him badly. Just some teasing and the occasional frustration when he screwed up in sports, and he could live with that.

  Besides, everybody was weak at something. Barry and Hernando were useless in endurance events like swimming and running, and Vinnie
had done poorly in the canoe race and had fallen down during the tug-of-war.

  Still, those guys and Tony had carried the team in basketball and softball, and they’d all played well in water polo. Riley hadn’t made any big impact except for that leg in the relay race, and that had gone mostly unnoticed.

  He had one huge opportunity ahead of him, though.

  He’d been swimming laps for a half hour every day, mostly with Tony and sometimes with Eldon. A few times he’d seen other kids practicing, but nobody had done as much swimming as he had.

  He stopped by the water and looked across the lake, all the way down to the totem pole.

  Could he win it? He could dream about it, but it seemed impossible. He’d studied the results of the trials in the Bulletin, and a top-ten finish seemed within his reach. But the best swimmers were just too far out there.

  Riley shut his eyes and took a deep breath, bringing in the smell of the lake. Crickets were chirping, and he could hear the occasional bellow of a frog. The air was still and moist, but he was wearing a light sweatshirt, more for comfort than warmth.

  He felt like he could swim that race right now, cutting through the cool water, biding his time in the middle of the pack, making a big move midway through and reeling in the guys who went out too fast.

  He’d gain strength as the race wore on, stroking past swimmers who were gasping for air and desperately trying to hang on. Then that all-out sprint, picking off one or two others in the final fifty meters as his teammates went wild on the dock.

  He swallowed. His heart was pumping hard now, and all he’d been doing was thinking about the race.

  Two more days. Less than that, even. Race time was forty-six hours away.

  He walked past the boat house and onto the path that circled the lake. Had eleven days really passed since the last time he walked this loop alone at night? In some ways it seemed like forever, and in other ways it seemed like yesterday.

  He’d been scared that first night, wondering if he’d make it back or wind up lost in the woods. He’d been embarrassed, too, after getting scorched in the basketball game and having Barry mock him about girls. So he’d been dreading the two weeks ahead.