by Andrea White
Ah, Craig would never be here, Andrew reminded himself. Never. Never. Never.
Andrew’s mom, his dad, and Bart were probably sitting on the couch watching television, trading bets on whether he was going to make it to the Pole or not. They might even be watching him right now. They had cameras everywhere on these survivor shows. “Hi,” he mouthed, just in case his family was watching him.
He looked around the room but couldn’t spot the lens.
He wasn’t sure whether it felt better or worse to be all alone.
Polly’s stomach turned, and she tried not to retch. She hoped that Mama couldn’t see her now. She didn’t want her mother to know that she was seasick. She examined the mirror again for a hidden camera but saw only her own serious face.
This was the first time she had ever had a bathroom to herself. She wished this morning that she could enjoy it in some other way besides hugging the toilet.
A loud bell clanged, and Robert’s voice sounded over the intercom: “Meet in the mess hall in five minutes.”
What a bossy boy! He was acting like he was captain or something. Casey Duncan and the other boys who lived on her street had been bossy. Over the years she’d learned to deal with them by staying away.
“Polly Pritchard comes to town; her fat brain weighs her down” was just one of the rhymes they taunted her with.
She sighed and stood up. It was going to be hard to avoid Robert.
8
ROBERT STOOD AT the head of the small table while the other kids sat around it in the room labeled MESS HALL.
There’s got to be a camera on us right now even if we can’t see it, Billy thought. Involuntarily, his eyes swept over every inch of space in the small white room. He would give anything to know where the camera was hidden.
“Okay. We all know how these things work from other shows,” Robert said.
Billy nodded.
Grace was sewing a torn harness.
Polly was reading.
Andrew just looked miserable. “This is day one. We have a total of five days on this ship to ‘bond together as a team and get ready for the challenge.’” Robert’s voice sounded more sarcastic than he had intended.
Polly put her book down. Her stomach still felt unsteady, but she steeled herself. “Excuse me. Who appointed you leader?”
“I appointed myself.”
“What are your qualifications?”
Robert smiled as if she had asked the easiest question in the world. “I’m going to survive. Any more questions? Anyone else want to be leader?”
“Grace? Andrew? Billy?” Polly studied each kid’s face. “Don’t you want to talk about this?”
Billy’s plan was that Robert would do all the work and then, at the end, he, Billy, would do some amazing thing and be voted MVP. So he was happy for Robert to wear himself out as leader.
Grace didn’t care.
“I think Robert’s great,” Andrew said.
“You can be leader, Robert,” Polly said, since Robert was set on the title and no one else wanted it. “But on the big decisions, I think we should vote. One person, one vote. Does anyone disagree?”
No one said anything. “Be leader, then,” Polly said. “It’s fine with me.” She picked up her book. Scott’s ponies had gotten stranded on an ice floe that floated out to sea. Henry “Birdie” Bowers, Titus Oates, and Apsley Cherry-Garrard were trying to rescue them. Polly was happier than usual to have a good book to help her escape from her life.
“Billy and I worked on the supplies,” Robert said. “How about the rest of you? What did you do last night?” Except for Billy, he guessed that they were a worthless bunch.
No one spoke. “How about you, Polly? Did you read all night?” Robert tried unsuccessfully to keep the sneer out of his voice.
“I did,” she said calmly. She held up the book, Scott’s Last Expedition: The Journals.
“So?” Robert said.
“There are books about polar exploration in my cabin,” Polly said. “I know it’s part of the game. You should read one.”
Robert had never learned anything worth knowing from a book, but before he could respond, Grace interrupted. “Did you hear the animals?”
“Yeah,” Robert said. “I was going to bring that up next. We need to figure out how to take care of them.”
“I already have,” Grace said.
“You fed them all?” Robert asked, surprised at her efficiency. “What’s on board?”
“Twelve dogs and two ponies.”
“Ponies?” Billy said.
“I don’t understand.” Robert scratched his head.
Polly cleared her throat. Here was her first chance to show how useful the books were going to be. “Captain Scott used ponies, dogs, and a primitive form of motor sledge for his polar expedition. Of course, his faith in ponies and motor sledges was misplaced. Roald Amundsen beat him to the Pole in 1911 using only dogs.”
“Ponies hauling on ice and snow?” Robert asked. The idea sounded strange. “How did they do?”
“They slipped a lot, and the weather was hard on them. They did better when they wore snowshoes,” Polly added.
“Snowshoes for horses?” Billy asked incredulously.
“Any weird-looking snowshoes down there, Grace?” Robert asked.
“Yeah,” Grace said, thinking of the round things hanging next to the ponies’ bridles that had puzzled her. “Now that you mention it. I didn’t know what they were.”
“That’s the Secretary of Entertainment for you, accurate down to the last little detail.” Billy was anxious to do everything he could to remain the Secretary’s favorite contestant.
“Let’s get one thing straight,” Robert broke in. “I hate the suck-ups on the reality shows. The wonderful Secretary of Entertainment this. The wonderful Secretary of Entertainment that.” He tried to imagine a camera in the corner and looked straight at it. “I don’t mean any disrespect, ma’am. I’m glad for this chance to earn money.” Robert turned and glared at Billy. “But we won’t have any sucking up while I’m team leader, you got that?”
“I didn’t mean …” Billy’s voice trailed off.
“So let’s get back to our plan. Billy and I are going to handle supplies.” Robert looked at Grace. “You, animals?”
Grace nodded.
“Polly,” he said deliberately. “I guess you should be Director of Research.” He smiled at his joke. She was prim and executive-looking, like her title.
“I think everybody should read these books,” Polly said.
Robert shook his head. “No time. Find out all you can about Scott’s mistakes. Maybe we don’t even want to bring the ponies.”
“Scott and his men brought them along and then killed them as food for themselves and the dogs,” Polly said.
“Killed them,” Grace echoed, with too much emotion in her voice as far as Robert was concerned.
“Another thing,” Robert said. “Grace, those animals are our tools. We’re not going to cry over ponies or dogs or anything.” He stared hard at her. “You got it? Or I’m going to take you off animals and stick you with the supplies. Understand?”
“I’m going to need some help,” Grace said.
“What about you, Andrew? What did you do last night?”
Might as well tell the lazy truth. “Slept.”
“I’m getting a sense of what the other team members’ strengths are. What do you bring to the team?” Robert said. He tried to keep his voice level and not mocking.
Andrew shook his head miserably. Sometimes his family teased him and called him “couch worm.” That’s what he felt like, a soft, flabby worm.
“Where are you from again?” Robert asked.
“Nashville, Tennessee.” Andrew hung his head.
“You get snow there, don’t you?” Robert said. Andrew nodded.
“Are you a good skier? A good ice fisherman?” Polly suggested.
“No.” Andrew shook his head. “There’s not enough snow to
ski.”
“Maybe a hunter? A friend of mine told me that there’ll be seals in Antarctica,” Robert said.
Andrew sighed. He was good at watching television. That was about it. When he was a little boy, his mother told him that everyone had special gifts, but he had long since given up on finding his.
“Okay,” Robert said. No sense humiliating the guy. “You help Grace.”
Andrew nodded.
“Now, we have just five days on this ship. We’ve got a lot to do to get ready….” He snapped his fingers. “I know. Polly, could you be our navigator?”
“Sure,” Polly said.
Grace stood and walked over to a slot in the wall labeled KITCHEN.
“What are you doing?” Robert said.
Robert acted as if each of them needed permission to move, Polly thought.
“I’m hungry,” Grace said.
Me, too, Billy thought. Please, let breakfast be a good bag of chips. Grace punched a large button that said BREAKFAST. Five trays popped out of the paneling.
“Compliments of Shipchef,” said a creaky voice.
“Good button-pushing, Grace,” Robert said. The smell of eggs and bacon filled the cabin. Like most kids in America, Robert rarely ate hot food, so he savored the aroma.
“Is it egg-and-bacon chips?” Andrew asked Grace.
“No,” Grace said. “It’s the real thing.” She walked back to the table with a breakfast tray.
“You say that like you eat real bacon all the time,” Billy said.
“We do. From hogs.” Grace took a bite of her food.
“Where do you live again?” Billy asked as he stood to get his breakfast. As far as he was concerned, a bag of bacon chips was better, but since this bacon was crunchy, bacon and eggs would do just fine.
“On a Hopi Indian reservation,” Grace said. “My mom tries to keep the old ways as much as possible.” Grace and her family didn’t live like her Iñupiat ancestors had. But that didn’t stop her family from being proud of the fact that they grew or raised most of their own food.
Robert returned to the table with his tray. He loaded up his fork with a huge piece of bacon and eggs. He loved bacon and eggs and rarely got to eat them.
“Better than water moccasin?” Billy said to Robert with a touch of sarcasm as he sat down next to him.
Robert decided to ignore Billy’s jab. “Moccasins aren’t that bad.”
Polly and Andrew rose to get their trays.
“I bet your gift has something to do with animals,” Polly said to Grace as she passed her.
“I hadn’t thought about that,” Grace said. “I’m the reservation’s animal doctor.”
“What did you do the day of the farm test?” Billy asked Grace.
“Played with the pigs. Why? What did you do?” Grace said.
“My tester told me that the farm test was optional, so I sat in the car,” Billy said.
“I drove the tractor,” Robert said. He looked at Billy and made a guess. “Did you ace the snow-and-ice computer games?”
“Yeah,” Billy said. But he knew snow-and-ice games were very different from real snow and real ice. “What did you do at the farm, Andrew?” he asked, to change the subject.
“I watched TV,” Andrew said.
Robert laughed along with the others. “You watched television?”
“Yeah, there was a TV in the farmhouse. They said that I could go anywhere and do anything.” Andrew blushed.
Grace pointed to a small black box in the corner of the room.
“What are you looking at?” Robert said.
“Is that a camera?” Grace asked.
“I already checked. It’s a smoke detector,” Robert said.
“The thought of the cameras gives me the creeps,” Polly said.
“We’ve got to put the cameras out of our minds,” Robert said firmly, as much to himself as to the rest of them.
Billy touched the top button on his shirt. “Maybe the cameras are in our clothes.”
Robert pointed to his shirt. The buttons were missing.
“What happened to it?” Billy said.
“Smashed them in my room last night,” Robert said.
“And?” Polly looked up, interested.
“They’re buttons,” Robert said. “Which reminds me: After breakfast, I want us all to try on the gear.”
“If there are cameras, there have to be cameramen,” Polly said.
“Yeah, remember when those cameramen got blown up in Civil War Historical Survivor?” Billy said.
“Well, there’s no camera crew on this ship.” Robert had searched the whole ship and was sure of that.
“I think that they’ve wired the ship in some way, but when we get to Antarctica, there have to be cameramen,” Billy said. “Otherwise, how would they know which way we’re going?”
That was what Polly had been thinking. Adults. Adults had to be near them. They couldn’t be all alone.
9
LATER THAT SAME day, the kids were in the supply room, modeling gear in front of a mirror.
“You look huge,” Andrew said to Polly.
“You look funny, too.” Polly giggled. She wore a parka, waterproof pants, three layers of long underwear, a pair of goggles, a pair of under-gloves, a pair of fur mittens, a neck warmer, two hats, three pairs of socks, and some fur boots tagged FINNESKOE. A vocabulary word for the schoolkids, Polly decided.
“These clothes look old,” Billy said.
“It’s not Gore-Tex or any of the fabrics that we’re used to,” Robert said.
“Animal furs are warmer,” Grace told him. “And better.”
“I’m burning up.” Andrew tugged at his turtleneck. Sweat poured down his face.
“You’ll be glad for these clothes in a couple of days,” Billy said. In the polar gear he appeared twice his regular slim size.
“At least it’s late spring there,” Polly said.
“It is?” Robert spoke without thinking. He hated to admit that he didn’t know something, even a fact about a land as remote and foreign as Antarctica.
“Yeah, we’ll be landing in November, when Scott started his trek,” Polly said. “The days will be long. The sun may not set.”
Robert felt stupid. He should have remembered the seasonal difference in the hemispheres. What else had he forgotten?
Polly laughed and pointed at all of them in the mirror. “We look like that photo of the Scott expedition on the video.”
“Polly, those guys were losers,” Robert said sharply.
No one said anything else, but for Polly the fun of dressing up was over. Robert’s rebuke hurt her feelings and angered her at the same time. She had read enough to learn that the Scott expedition boasted accomplished scientists. Among them were surgeons, a physicist, a zoologist, geologists, and a biologist. They were not losers.
“My clothes are fine,” Billy said quietly. He slipped out of the heavy garments and stowed them in a bag marked BILLY. While the others were still fooling with the gear, he turned to go. Robert had kept him so busy last night that he hadn’t had time to study the maps.
Billy looked at a 1911 map of Antarctica and saw that Scott had landed on something named the Ross Ice Shelf. Comparing the 1911 map with a map dated 2057, the last year that the government had sent scientists to Antarctica, he noted that the ice shelf appeared to have melted. They would land on Beardmore Glacier.
He heard someone fidgeting and turned to see Polly standing next to him.
“So these are the maps, huh?” she said. “What are you looking at?”
“The Beardmore Glacier,” Billy said.
“Oh,” Polly said. “So that’s the Beardmore.”
“What do you know about it?” Billy asked.
“Scott began his ascent of the Beardmore on December tenth, nineteen eleven,” Polly said, remembering the facts from one of her books. “Three groups of four men carried two hundred pounds of supplies per man up its slopes. It was really rough going.”
“Do you always sound like an encyclopedia?” Billy said.
Polly sighed and fought the impulse to turn around and rush back to her cabin. Why were these boys so rude? Didn’t Billy realize that to win the game, they all needed to get along?
Billy figured that if he ignored Polly, maybe she would leave. He studied the next map. It showed the placement of depots. They were in a straight line to the Pole, but since compasses didn’t work well in Antarctica, he’d have to keep track of the longitude and the latitude to calculate the distance traveled.
Polly stirred beside him. Why hadn’t she left?
“Billy, Robert’s made me navigator.”
What an idiot! She was going to tell him to get out of her map room.
“I guess he thought that because I could read books, I could read maps.” Polly laughed. That’s right. Keep your voice light. You need Billy.
It was obvious that Polly couldn’t navigate her way out of her bathroom. Billy could have told that to Robert, but the fool hadn’t asked his opinion. “I can’t,” Polly concluded. “I mean, I’ve never even tried.” A part of her wanted to kick Billy in the shin, but she managed to say, “So could you help?”
“I was planning to do it anyway.” No one could keep Billy out of the map room.
Polly sighed with relief. Holding her tongue had paid off.
“And …” Billy turned back to stare at the maps.
“And?” Polly said.
“I don’t need any help, so you can leave,” Billy said.
Polly turned around and walked out the door. She couldn’t stand to be in the room with that boy another instant. “We have five days to bond together,” Robert had said at breakfast. Five days to hurt each other’s feelings, Polly thought.
The kids had been so busy that they hadn’t sat down for lunch, but for dinner Shipchef spit out sandwiches, chips, and concentrate from real oranges. Billy had never had real fake orange juice before, just orange drink. He took a sip of the juice. It was not as sweet as the drink, which he liked better.
“Polly, how many motor sledges did Scott have?” Robert asked. Robert and Billy had been making an inventory of all the gear before deciding what to load into the big sacks that were going to be strapped to the sleds.