The math nerds looked pale and chalky, but that could have been the mist that somehow hung over the room. Most were frighteningly short, but two were on the taller side, one with fiery red hair and the other with black. There were ten campers in all, only two of whom were girls. One of them looked picture-perfect, with long blond hair and flawless skin, but the other girl looked normal. If she hadn’t been glaring at me, I would have pegged her as a friend.
Behind them were the woman and three younger counselors (two men and one woman), and behind them were the chalkboards, walls and walls of chalkboards (which explained the mist). I hadn’t thought that anyone used chalkboards anymore, but based on the variety of scribbles, it was probably safe to say that everyone at Camp Archimedes used them. And it wasn’t like these nerds were practicing their long division. I hadn’t known math could involve so many letters.
“Forgive us for intruding,” Toby said after he coughed.
“Nonsense,” the woman said. “Oh, but where are my manners?” She offered her hand to Toby. “My name is Director Verity.”
“Toby Renfro,” Toby said.
“And I’m still Esther,” I replied.
Director Verity forced a smile (or at least it looked forced to me). “It’s very nice to meet you. Would you like something to drink?”
Toby looked down at his poncho. “I think I’d just like a bathroom.”
“Oh, of course,” she said, nodding toward the hall that extended down the lodge’s shorter leg. “It’s the fourth door on the right. If you reach the full-size gym, then you’ll know you’ve gone too far.”
Toby nodded back, then crossed the dusty common room, leaving a trail of mud and twigs. When he disappeared down the dark corridor, I couldn’t help but feel alone.
Ten pairs of eyes latched on to me, and mine couldn’t help but gape at them. If they looked like wide-eyed aliens, I could only imagine what I looked like.
Before the silence could get awkward (or more awkward, anyway), the director chirped, “Number crunchers, introduce yourselves to our newest arrival.”
She made it sound like I was staying, but I most certainly was not. As soon as this storm died down, we would hike back to the truck and skedaddle out of here. After we fixed it, of course, but that wouldn’t take long. Toby was a whiz with metal.
The math nerds mumbled their names one by one, but I couldn’t hear most of them above the pounding rain. I did manage to catch the blond-haired girl’s (Angeline) and the fiery redhead’s (Graham), but that was just because the wind died down during their turns.
Director Verity beamed. “Thank you, number crunchers. You may return to your prime-factor trees.”
I glanced at their prime-factor trees (which seemed too simple for this crowd), then did an instant double take. They were prime-factoring numbers in the ten and hundred thousands. I was still checking their math when Toby emerged from the bathroom. He’d shed the less-than-helpful poncho, but his shirt was still completely soaked, and the bottoms of his jeans were caked in multicolored mud.
Director Verity took one look at him and glanced at one of the male counselors. “It looks like our guests could both use a change of clothes. Mr. Pearson, you appear to be Mr. Renfro’s size. May we borrow some of yours?”
Mr. Pearson disappeared down the other corridor without saying a word.
Next, she sized me up, then turned her attention to the glaring girl. “Brooklyn, the same request?”
The glaring girl, whose pale white skin was even paler than skim milk, went right on glaring at me. “I don’t have a change of clothes.”
That wasn’t something I’d admit in front of the other campers. The black-haired boy smiled—he must have been thinking the same thing—but I didn’t smile back. I was only going to be here for a few hours at most. I didn’t need to make new friends.
“I do!” Angeline chirped. For a second, maybe less, she sounded exactly like Director Verity.
I opened my mouth to tell them that they didn’t need to worry, that we wouldn’t be here long enough for our clothes to dry out, but Director Verity didn’t let me get a word in edgewise.
“Thank you, Angeline,” she said, and from the way that she was beaming, I could tell Angeline was her favorite.
Angeline followed Mr. Pearson, leaving Toby and me to stew in our own smelly juices—until Director Verity took it upon herself to distract us. She would have made a great detective, since she never ran out of questions: “What do you do?” “Where are you from?” “What made you want to go to Camp Vermeer?” “Would you like some hot chocolate?” Toby answered her questions with his usual grunts and three-word explanations, and I tried to follow suit. She wasn’t going to get any tidbits out of me.
Angeline and Mr. Pearson reappeared at the same time, bearing bundles of folded clothes. It looked like Toby and Mr. Pearson were roughly the same size, but when I held up Angeline’s pants (which were sparkly, no less), they looked two inches too short.
“Too bad,” Toby said simply. “I guess beggars can’t be choosers.”
I didn’t bother to respond. Toby never let me sulk.
He motioned toward the bathroom. “Do you want to change first?”
I glanced at the sparkly pants, then at my soggy poncho. Though I was still sopping wet, I shook my head. I didn’t want to change until I absolutely had to.
“Suit yourself,” he said, then retreated to the bathroom. When the door slammed shut behind him, chalk dust swirled in the air.
I bounced my foot up and down, ignoring the way that my shoes squelched. I looked over at the window, hoping against hope that the storm was blowing itself out, but the rain was still coming down in sheets. I returned my attention to my shoes.
“The storm shouldn’t relent for another few days,” Director Verity said. It was like she’d read my mind. “Perhaps you’d like that drink now?”
Instead of fighting her, I nodded. I was cold and tired. The last thing I wanted to do was match wits with a grown-up math nerd.
Director Verity nodded back, then disappeared down the same corridor Angeline and Mr. Pearson had. That drew my attention to a nearby chalkboard. It was the only chalkboard in the room that had just one person’s handwriting (and judging by the loops and frills, that person was probably Director Verity).
It must have been a problem of some sort, but it didn’t look like any problem I’d ever come across. I got up to examine it, but it made no more sense up close than it had from far away:
You walk into a room with three sets of balanced scales.
On the first scale, two red balls and one blue ball balance with two yellow balls and a one-pound weight.
On the second scale, four red balls and a one-pound weight balance with one blue ball and one yellow ball.
On the third scale, one red ball and two yellow balls balance with one blue ball and one yellow ball.
How much does each ball weigh?
“It’s the camp’s First Problem,” a deeper voice said from behind me.
I glanced over my shoulder. Graham, the fiery redhead, was suddenly headed my way.
“If someone solves this one, they’ll supposedly move on to the next. But if someone solves the First, I told Marshane I’d lick his shoes.” He tilted his head to the side, accentuating the contrast between his red hair and light skin. “I don’t think ‘challenging’ even begins to describe it.”
I crinkled my nose. If Graham thought it was challenging, I wouldn’t stand a chance—and that left me no choice but to shoot it full of holes. “How do the balls stay on the scales? I mean, wouldn’t they roll off?”
“I guess they would, wouldn’t they?” Graham considered that, then shrugged. “Maybe it’s just a hypothetical.”
I had no idea what a hypothetical was, but I liked the way it sounded, like a poem in one word. “Then maybe the answer is, too.” And with that, I sauntered off.
I was halfway to an empty bench when Toby emerged from the bathroom. Mr. Pearson’s sweate
r was too tight—apparently, he didn’t make a habit of hauling scrap metal around—but at least it didn’t sparkle. After exchanging a look with Toby, I grabbed Angeline’s clothes, then shuffled down the hall to this mysterious bathroom.
It was smaller than I’d expected, given the size of the lodge, but at least it didn’t smell like pee. I fumbled for the light switch, but nothing happened when I flicked it, so I tried a few more times.
The light switch still didn’t work.
Icy wisps of dread chased me back out to the common room. “The lights are dead!” I said to no one in particular.
Director Verity looked up. “Yes, I’m afraid the power’s out.”
My gaze darted up to the antler chandelier dangling from the vaulted ceiling (which was flickering alarmingly, but then, it was flickering).
She had the decency to blush. “Oh, well, there’s a generator.”
I narrowed my eyes. If they had a generator, why weren’t all the lights working?
“But it’s only connected to the common rooms,” she said.
“How convenient,” I replied. Something wasn’t adding up.
She produced a red Maglite out of nowhere. “Would you like to borrow my flashlight?”
I gaped at the sturdy Maglite, which was as long as her forearm, then at her bloodred nails. What kind of outdoorswoman coordinated her nails with her Maglite? And why did she need one so big?
“Oh, no, that’s all right,” I said as I slithered back a step. “I can just … open the blinds.”
Not my cleverest excuse, since it was gray and overcast, but Director Verity just nodded.
“Good idea,” she said, returning her Maglite to its holster. “Best to save the batteries for the witching hour later.”
A shiver tiptoed down my spine. I didn’t want to think about how dark it was going to get. With no power. In the rain.
After retreating to the bathroom and double-checking the cheap lock, I shucked off my poncho and wriggled out of my wet clothes. Angeline hadn’t thought to bring another pair of shoes, so I scraped as much mud off mine as I could, then turned them upside down over the vent. Bare feet were best, anyway, especially in summer storms.
After wringing out my explosion of red hair, I unlocked the door. I hadn’t been able to hear what was going on, but as soon as I reentered the common room, I shuddered to a stop. It didn’t take a brainiac to know something was up.
For one thing, Toby was nursing a steaming mug of hot chocolate (even though he usually said hot chocolate tasted like bathwater), and for another, Director Verity was laughing like he’d just said something very funny. I thought Toby was hilarious, but most people found him weird. And the last time I checked, Director Verity didn’t laugh. When she said, “I guess that’s settled,” I rushed into their conversation.
“What’s settled?” I demanded.
“Why, your stay at Camp Archimedes, home of the world-famous Crazy Cryptography course.” She offered me a hot chocolate. “We’re so happy to have you, Esther.”
CHAPTER 3
I ignored the hot chocolate. My gaze flickered back and forth between Toby and Director Verity. “I’m staying?” I replied.
Toby’s cheeks turned red, but he didn’t bother to correct her, just took a swig of his hot chocolate.
At least Director Verity was willing to look me in the eyes. “Well, of course you are!” she said. “We can’t have you drowning in that creek, and your vehicle is out of commission.”
“I’m sure it just needs a push.” I motioned toward the counselors (who probably didn’t have much experience with manual labor, but we’d take what we could get). “Maybe they could dig us out?”
Director Verity shook her head. “It’s too dangerous,” she said. “From what Mr. Renfro tells me, the road is nigh unto impassable.”
“We passed it, didn’t we?” I growled.
She didn’t comment on my tone. “Be that as it may, your stepfather and I have both decided that you should stay here for the time being, at least until the rain subsides.”
“Easy for you to say,” I said, glaring at Toby’s hot chocolate (since I couldn’t bring myself to glare at him). “You’re not the one who has to stay—”
“I don’t think you understand,” she interrupted. “Mr. Renfro will be staying, too.”
That was something, anyway. And as Mom was fond of saying, the weather in this part of Utah liked to change every five minutes, so with any luck, we’d be digging out the truck and showing Camp Archimedes our tailpipe in no more than an hour.
“Now, let’s get you two settled,” Director Verity went on. “Mr. Renfro can bunk in Cabin Beta with Mr. Sharp and Mr. Pearson, and you can room in Cabin Epsilon with Brooklyn and Angeline.”
I narrowed my eyes. “I thought we couldn’t go outside.”
“Oh, well, they’re not actual cabins,” Director Verity replied. “And I’m sure Brooklyn and Angeline will be thrilled to have another roommate.”
Brooklyn sniffed dismissively, but Angeline’s eyes sparkled. In general, I tried to avoid people who sparkled in any way, but if we’d be sharing a room, I’d have a hard time dodging her.
Director Verity clapped. “Let’s stretch those muscles!” she went on. “As every number cruncher knows, having healthy hearts and lungs is key to having healthy minds.”
The math nerds groaned in unison, but I couldn’t decide whether they disliked exercise or Director Verity’s one-liners. As they plodded down the hall that led away from the bathroom, I had no choice but to follow.
The hall on the right was narrower than the one on the left. After we trudged past a closed door with a nameplate that said DIRECTOR VERITY, the corridor opened up into another giant room that was clearly the mess hall. Except calling it a mess hall was like calling this place a lodge. On the right was a gourmet kitchen complete with granite and stainless steel, and on the left was a dining room that could have seated several hundred. In the middle was a wood-burning fireplace with a redwood-size chimney that sprouted from the floor and disappeared into the ceiling. A bridge made of planks and logs wrapped around it from both sides, connecting two sections of the lodge’s second floor.
It was the single most amazing room that I’d ever encountered, and I had a sudden itch to sketch it. But I’d left my sketchbook in the truck, so I snapped a quick picture instead. Then I scurried to catch up.
We’d just entered the next corridor when the director made a sharp left turn and headed up a hidden staircase. Weak light dribbled through a skylight, and the steps creaked ominously. I gripped the gnarled banister, which looked like a sawed-off branch, and curled my toes around each step.
At the top of the stairs, Director Verity stopped near the first doors, which were labeled CABIN ALPHA and CABIN BETA. “Your room, Mr. Renfro,” she said dramatically as she opened Cabin Beta’s door.
I crowded in behind the others to get a look inside his room, but it was mostly disappointing. Instead of four-poster beds with silky sheets, there were plain bunks with fleece blankets. Also, it smelled like canned tuna.
“Mr. Sharp and Mr. Pearson have already claimed their spaces,” Director Verity went on, “but I’m sure you’d be more than welcome to any of the remaining bunks.”
Toby dipped his head, but before he slipped inside, he glanced back at me. “Are you sure you’ll be all right?”
The math nerds’ beady eyes zoomed in on me like double periscopes, and I swallowed, hard. I’d never been a clingy kid, but the thought of being without Toby in this creepycrawly place was enough to make me sweat. I’d had this perfect plan of how everything would turn out, but so far, none of it had worked.
Still, I couldn’t lose it, not in front of these math nerds. They already thought I was an alien from the planet Creativity, so I ducked my head and mumbled, “Yeah.”
Toby dipped his head again. “Then I’ll catch up with you at dinner.”
He vanished before I could say goodbye, but that was probably just as w
ell. At least when the door closed, it took the smell of tuna with it.
Director Verity raised a hand. “Onward, my little number crunchers!”
The math nerds scampered after her, plunging across another bridge. Raindrops dripped off my fat curls, peppering my borrowed shirt as I hurried to catch up.
Angeline must have thought I was crying, because she bumped my arm and said, “I’m sure he’s going to be fine.”
Behind us, Brooklyn snorted. “Can it, Angeline,” she said, pushing past us with a sneer. “I bet Camp Archimedes is going to eat this one alive.”
I opened my mouth to answer, but she didn’t wait for me to finish (or even give me a chance to start), just flicked her hair over her shoulder and half tromped, half tripped away. Reluctantly, we followed.
“Don’t mind her,” Angeline said. She had to take two steps for every single one of mine. “Brooklyn is just feeling homesick.”
I stared at Brooklyn’s fists. She didn’t look homesick to me, but then, I didn’t know what homesickness looked like. “If you say so,” I said.
Angeline nodded knowingly. “I see it all the time.”
“How long have you been here?” I asked.
Angeline ducked her head. “Well, it’s my first time at this camp. But I’ve been to lots of others, like Camp Einstein, Camp Newton”—she ticked them off on her fingers—“and the Jolly Jamboree.”
I couldn’t help but grin. “You totally made that last one up.”
“No, I didn’t!” she replied, but then she ducked her head again. “Okay, maybe I did. But the Peace Pirates are my crew, and every time we get together, it’s a jolly jamboree.”
I made a face. “Your crew?”
“Yeah, you know, my hip-hop crew.”
I clapped a hand over my mouth so I wouldn’t laugh out loud. If she wanted to play make-believe, that was her business, not mine.
After crossing the same bridge the math nerds had just scampered over (which spanned a fully loaded game room complete with pool, Ping-Pong, air hockey, and a bunch of old arcade games), we passed two more doors that looked exactly like Toby’s, though these ones were labeled CABIN GAMMA and CABIN DELTA.
The Multiplying Mysteries of Mount Ten Page 2