Chapter Twenty: Hook, Line and Sinker

Despite it being a Sunday morning, and thus the one day a week for campers to sleep in, the boys in Pentland were all wide awake. Racetrack had been allowed to miss church this week so he could watch the races (though not participate, which he kept claiming didn't bother him—it meant he could take bets on the races instead), and everyone else was being dragged down to the beach to watch.

David sighed as he got dressed, knowing that there was no way the shower would be free before the race; he'd had last dibs on it for sleeping latest, as usual, so he had nothing to do but sit around and wait.

Until Blink, currently in the shower, started screaming bloody murder. The door banged open abruptly, and he stumbled out, dripping wet, a towel hastily wrapped around his waist. Everyone stared, except for Mush, who managed to hold a shocked look for a few seconds, then cracked up.

"What did you—" Blink started, but Mush reached for something on his bed and held it up: the tube of IceyHot he'd gotten from Triage the previous week.

"That was for setting me up last night," he answered.

Blink glared at him. "I hate you," he answered, and stomped back into the bathroom.

David shook his head a little. Sometimes, things just got too surreal for words.

*

The wind was rather chilly when everyone finally was grouped on the beach. Fewer people were racing than David had expected; a lot had done the camper-counselor tennis tournament instead, and a lot of campers didn't want to compete in either. The beach was crowded, though; even though only a handful were racing, a much larger number gathered to watch.

David shivered and wished he'd brought a sweatshirt, but he hadn't realized how cold it would be down by the lake, so all he could do was wrap his arms around himself and look at the course that had been laid out. Two canoes were anchored in place a considerable distance apart; Irish sat in one and Dutchy in the other. Gunwale, the head of the unit, was standing with a an air horn, ready to wade into the water as the starting point. David listened to what he was saying, announcing the rules (which mostly consisted of "don't cheat," though David didn't know howone would cheat) and explaining the course: assembling the boat, heading out diagonally to the right, looping around Irish's canoe, then to the left around Dutchy's, another lap around Irish and Dutchy, then back to the shore and disassembling the boat.

The wind picked up again and David began shivering, until he felt a warm hand on his shoulder. Startled, he looked up, but smiled as he saw Jack, who without actually speaking a word shrugged out of his camp logo sweatshirt and handed it to David, who handed it back. "Jack, you'll freeze—"

"I wore a long sleeved shirt underneath," Jack pointed out, and shoved it insistently at David. Apparently satisfied that Jack had the good sense to wear a warm enough shirt, David smiled and slipped the sweatshirt on. It was warm from Jack's body heat and David noted it had the slight scent of horses. Like Jack did at the end of the day. It was kind of nice to be surrounded by that, even if he did hate horses. The sweatshirt felt like Jack.

He gave Jack a grateful smile as the contestants in the first round prepared. They were the older campers, as there weren't enough sailboats for everyone to compete at once, and this way there was a split between the older, more experienced campers, and the younger, newer ones.

Blink was the only entrant from David's bunk, paired with Ian, who was there in all of his bleached blond surfer glory, complete with backwards hat and pierced nipple. David felt himself blushing slightly as he watched Ian kick his sandals off, stumble a little in the sand, and turn to Blink with a thumbs up. Blink rolled his eye. Ian was good with sailing—he'd done some at home—but was not well known for his coordination. Really, Blink had wanted Mush to be his partner the way they had in previous years, but Mush had decided at the last minute to do the camper-counselor tennis competition instead, and campers had to choose between that or the sailing races. And then Race had said he'd do it, but his mother forced him to drop out, and Blink was left scrambling for a partner. But Ian wasn't bad, just a little clumsy.

Itey and Snoddy had the fun job of setting up between Blink's boat and Smurf's boat, where and she and Trixie stood waiting. It involved a lot of teeth gritting and trying to get Blink and Smurf to stop taunting each other, which was no easy thing. But Gunwale turned to glare at them and they settled for just mumbling to themselves and glaring.

Finally, all the groups—there were five total—were ready to go. Gunwale waved out to Dutchy and Irish, who both waved back to indicate they were ready, and he took a few steps into the lake (and grumbled about the cold water under his breath), and began to count down from five.

The crowd counted with him: "Four... Three..."

Blink was spasmodically clenching and unclenching a fist, and Smurf was grinning like a maniac, playing with the braid she'd pulled her hair into to keep it out of her way.

"Two..."

And the air horn went off, and with that, there was a flurry of motion. David couldn't quite follow it, because he had no idea what setting up the sailing skiffs entailed, but Smurf and Trixie seemed to get it into the water fast enough—but only because Ian slid on the sand again and fell, had to get up and get back to work (no easy task with Blink yelling at him). They pushed into the water third and everyone seemed to be yelling at everyone else; Trixie dropped the rudder into place while Smurf began to fiddle with the sail, still enjoying a comfortable but shrinking lead.

Blink angrily pointed out a course as they finally got the rudder into place on his boat, almost directly at Smurf's skiff, but by the time he would have been close enough to actually touch her, her boat was rounding the first canoe. Blink had pulled into a close second and they were neck and neck as they adjusted for the new angle and made their way across the stretch to the second canoe.

From the shore, David could half-see and half-hear them yelling, but the sound was lost to the wind and the people yelling next to him. Race did indeed seem to be taking bets; David had no idea who he was favoring, but was certain that Race would come out ahead in the end.

Blink finally pulled into the lead as they neared the first canoe again; David was pretty sure he could hear Smurf shrieking in rage, but it was still hard to make out. When he squinted he could see that she was certainly yelling wildly, though, and the smirk on Blink's face was unmistakable.

Both boats cut around the canoe, now far ahead of the next nearest rival, and it seemed like on the straight path there wasn't much Smurf could do to catch up. Blink remained barely a few feet ahead of her, and she grabbed the handle of the rudder from Trixie as they approached the second canoe and cut sharply to try and get a lead around the corner. It didn't quite work; her boat ended up banging against the back end of Blink's and they both wobbled dangerously.

Blink's righted itself, he safely made the turn, and headed back towards shore.

Smurf's boat continued to rock violently, and actually rocked straight into Dutchy's canoe. Trixie tumbled into the water and surfaced thanks to her life jacket, but the time they lost getting her back on to the boat and getting back into motion definitely ended the competition. The race became neck and neck between Smurf's boat and Itey's boat, but there was no way either one would catch up with Blink and Ian, who were now safely pulling up the rudder.

Blink placed first, and Smurf barely managed to pull in second, still yelling furiously.

"Stand back," Race mumbled, barely loudly enough for David to hear him. "I think she's going to explode."

Jack chuckled, then realized that as a counselor he shouldn't be laughing at that, and turned it into clearing his throat at the last second. Which made David laugh, because he knew Jack well enough to know what Jack was doing.

Smurf had stopped yelling and was just glaring at Blink, who was grinning and accepting congratulations, and smirking. There was really no other way to describe his facial expression—he was smug, and was making it very, very clear to Smurf that he was smug.

Her response was a scowl and shaking off any congratulations for second place, but this made three races in a row where she'd placed second to Blink, and by now most people knew better than to try and congratulate her anyway. She crossed her arms and glared, and finally she and Blink were both shoved towards each other to shake hands, Trixie and Ian trailing behind them nervously, not sure how this handshaking thing would go. Because Smurf was anything but a good loser—and Blink was making it clear he wasn't a great winner, either.

There was a long moment of silence, where they stared at each other, and finally Blink smirked again and held out his hand. "Nice job," he said.

She glowered, but shook his hand. "Yeah," she said.

"...And you almost caught up with me this time."

There was a tense moment of silence.

Smurf turned on her heel and stomped away, kicking up sand with each step. Trixie shrugged and giggled nervously, shook Blink's hand and then Ian's, and started after Smurf, then stopped and waited at the edge of the crowd while the second race got prepared to start.

It took awhile for the crowd of people around Blink went back to watching and he slipped back to join her. "...This afternoon?"

"Yeah," she agreed. "But I mean... Does it have to be today? She's already having a crappy day, 'cause... Well, you know."

"Because I won." He grinned, and Trixie rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, I mean, this is just kind of... Rubbing it in."

He hesitated. "Well... Look at it like this, her good luck charm doesn't work anyway, so..."

"Yeah.... I guess." She sighed. "I'll grab it after lunch. Just don't... Don't do anything too mean, okay?"

"Don't worry. I'm not feeling too mean right now."

"You're a jerk," she scowled.

"Yeah, yeah." He rolled his eye. "After lunch anyway?"

"Yes, I said. Bye." She scowled again and walked away to go find Smurf, who probably would blame her for the loss, but she had to go find her anyway.

*

That afternoon there were two major events, so far as David was concerned. The first was actually a big deal to almost everyone at camp, because it was auditions for the giant end-of-first-session musical. Medda had selected Oliver! for the camp to perform, though David really had no idea how an entire musical could be put together in one week—but Mush assured him as they strode into auditions (with nearly the rest of the bunk behind them) that it worked out every year.

The theater was full of people and buzzing with excess energy; the poor counselors had more people than they knew what to do with. The show was chosen largely because it actually had roles for the younger kids to play, but the younger kids didn't really seem to understand the concept of being quiet, sitting still, or doing what they were told. Just watching them made David tired, and he knew his reading wasn't great, but on the other hand he wasn't too worried about it.

The second event was making a phone call home. By cabin, every group was ushered into the infirmary to use the phone there, and had up to ten minutes to talk to their families. David wasn't exactly nervous to call home, though admitting to his parents that they were right was never his favorite thing. But he'd promised Sarah he would try and talk them into letting her go home, and that was really his only trump card.

I've been spending too much time with Racetrack, he mused, waiting while Skittery was on the phone. I never used to think of things in terms of card metaphors.

Skittery walked back into the main waiting room and tossed the phone to David, and he took it in to the back room and dialed home. He wondered if maybe they'd gone out, but half a ring before the machine would have picked up, the phone clicked on. "Jacobs' residence," his father said, sounding vaguely grumpy.

Right, David realized. Sunday night bowling is on. Mayer was always annoyed when people interrupted him while he was watching bowling tournaments.

"Dad?"

"David! Esther, pick up!"

Another click, and then, "Hello?"

"Hey, Mom."

"David!"

Well, at least it was a warm welcome.

"Is everything all right? How are you feeling?"

"I feel great, Mom," he promised. "I've been okay for a few days now."

"Well, that's good to hear, Davey. Of course, we'd have known that if you'd sent us a letter..."

"Sorry, Mom," David apologized quickly. "I keep meaning to write, I've just been... Well, really busy. It's crazy around here."

"Tell me all about it," she said, and David was pretty sure he could hear bowling in the background now. He smiled slightly; his parents were a bit quirky, sure, but when he spent time away from them he actually found that kind of endearing.

"Well, uh, I'm still spending most of my time in the theater. I'm... Learning a lot about behind the scenes stuff. Making costumes and sets. It's pretty cool."

"That's wonderful, Davey."

"Yeah, and today we had auditions for Oliver!, so that'll be performed... I guess, on parent's day next week. Before changeover day to second session."

"Of course, we'll be there. Are you in it?"

"I don't know yet, we don't find out until after dinner," he answered. "But I hope so. Les tried out too, he's really excited. It'll be the first show he does at camp."

"Your father already has that Friday off work, so we'll be there bright and early to see everything you've been up to."

"Great," David answered. "I can't wait..." He paused. "Yeah, it'll be a great show. It's too bad Sarah didn't audition."

"Oh, she didn't?"

"No, she's been pretty... Well, she doesn't like to do much. Really, I think she's kind of depressed," he said, making it sound like a hesitant confession. He had to admit to himself, though, his acting was getting better; he could tell by the slight cooing noise his mother made that he'd gotten her hooked.

"Is she okay?" Mayer asked.

"Well, she's not sick or anything. She's just kind of miserable... I think she misses home. She hasn't made a lot of friends, really."

"Why not? She's such a social girl, usually."

"I don't know, it's really different here. I mean..." He took a deep breath and prepared just bite the bullet. "I mean, I've had an awesome time, everyone here has been really great to me. I seriously love it. But she just hasn't fit in, she had to change cabins because a lot of the people in her first cabin were really mean to her. It was awful."

"I see."

"It's just a shame she's got to stay for both sessions, because she's so miserable. She wishes she could just go home at the end of first session..."

"Hmm, well, it is a shame she's having such an awful time."

"Yeah, she's tried so hard," David continued. "It just hasn't worked out."

"Well, if she's been trying..." Mayer mused.

David grinned to himself. Hook, line and sinker, he thought, and went on to make small talk with his parents, giving them a few stories about the theater, until his time was up.

*

"I can't find Daisy," Smurf said, pulling her knees up to her chest.

Trixie bit her lip. She'd just been walking into the cabin and Smurf was sitting on the porch, almost curled into a ball, looking miserable. A wave of guilt washed through Trixie, because Daisy was Smurf's doll, the good luck charm, and she knew full well what had happened to her.

"Have you looked?" she asked.

"Of course I looked. I..." Smurf trailed off.

"What?"

"Nothing, it's stupid."

"Tell me," Trixie insisted, sitting down on the chair next to Smurf's.

"You're going to laugh at me."

"Would I do that?"

"Yes."

Trixie shrugged. "I won't, promise."

Smurf sighed. "After the race this morning, I was..."

"Pissed?"

"Yes. And I got mad at Daisy and threw her across the cabin and now I can't find her. I just wanted to apologize."

"...You wanted to apologize to your doll."

"Shut up. I told you it was stupid."

"No, it's... I understand." Trixie shrugged. She'd known Smurf since middle school, when they sat next to each other and Smurf couldn't stop talking for more than two minutes at a time—and Trixie couldn't really, either. They'd gotten along immediately (even after they had to be separated in class to stop the incessant chatter) and had convinced their parents to let them go to the same camp that summer. So Trixie was more than used to some of Smurf's weirdness, including talking to—and apologizing to—inanimate objects.

But considering Smurf was upset enough to want to apologize to her doll, Trixie felt awful about having sold the doll off for a prank. She sighed. "Well... Come on, let's go try and clean up your bunk a little. I bet someone dropped her in with your stuff, and you just can't see her in that mess."

"Nuh uh," Smurf insisted. "I did clean. Look."

Trixie stood up and glanced into the cabin, and sat back down, a little shocked. "Oh," she finally said. Because for the first time since the summer began, Smurf's bunk was clean. Her laundry was put away, her bed was made, and the place actually looked neat. "Well... I'm sure she'll turn up. She can't have disappeared."

"Yeah, I guess."

Trixie hesitated, then stood up. "I'm gonna go bug Maverick into telling me what part I got early."

"Bye."

"...Bye," Trixie said, and hurried off, suddenly determined. She had to find Blink before he did anything terrible to the doll. She had to.

*

"Blink!"

Blink froze, startled, then saw it was just Trixie. But she was running frantically up to him as he walked out of the dining hall, trying hard not to look too smug.

"What?" he asked, relaxing. Smurf was no where around.

"Where is it? I need it back."

"What?"

"The doll, idiot. I need it back, Smurf is flipping out. She cleaned her bunk, Blink!"

"...What?"

"Smurf cleaned. That's really bad. I didn't think she was gonna be that upset but she is so you can't do anything bad and I need the doll back."

Blink blinked. "And our deal?"

"I'll make it up to you, okay? I'll... I don't know, I'll get my parents to smuggle in real food or something for you."

"But the deal was her good luck charm in exchange for a date with Mush, and I got you the date, and I had to put up with her to do it!"

"But I didn't know," Trixie whined. "I didn't think it would be such a big deal."

"Yeah, but—"

"Blink, come on, please. Don't be a jerk about this, you already won the race. What else do you need to make her miserable?"

He bit his lip. "But... Um..."

"What?"

He held up his hand and his fingers were stained with blue paint.

"You didn't..."

He nodded towards the door to the dining hall and she let herself in and saw the doll sitting on the lost and found table. Daisy had been old and scruffy to begin with, her hair made of yarn and her dress (with a daisy print pattern, hence her name) stained and frayed. She'd clearly been around for a long time, as dolls went.

And now she was bright blue.

Trixie groaned as Blink stepped up behind her. "Oh nooooooooo...."

"It's not so bad. It'll wash out, right?"

Trixie glared at Blink. "What kind of paint did you use?"

"Uh... I dunno. Whatever it was they had up at the arts'n'crafts cabin."

"Blink... You didn't even get the paint off your hands."

"Yeah, but it'll come off if I wash them, right?"

"Well, yeah. Eventually. But it's not like the doll is made of skin. Fabric stains."

He stared. "Oh."

"You're a moron."

"I am not, I just—you encouraged me!"

"I did not! I—"

"What's going on?"

Both of them spun around guiltily, to see Smurf standing in the doorway.

"Uh..."

"Trixie? You were acting real weird before, so..." She shrugged.

"I, uh..." She looked at Blink.

Blink blanched, and had the good grace to at least appear guilty. "Uh..."

"You two were yelling."

"Of course." Trixie shrugged. "We yell at each other a lot. Usually on your behalf."

Smurf stepped forward—and then saw what they'd been arguing over.

"Smurf..." Trixie started.

"Did you do that?" she asked Blink, her voice oddly calm, as she pointed at her bright blue doll.

"Well, Trixie—"

"Did you?" she asked Trixie.

"I... Well, he did it, but..."

"She gave me the idea—"

"I didn't mean—"

"I didn't think it would stain—"

"I tried to stop—"

Smurf turned around and walked out of the dining hall, silently. The door shutting silenced Trixie and Blink, who stared after her, then at each other.

"Doesn't she usually yell a whole lot?" Blink asked.

Trixie nodded.

"So being quiet is... A good thing?"

Trixie shook her head.

"...Worse than her cleaning things?"

Nod.

"This was a really, really bad idea, wasn't it?"

Nod.

"Crap." Blink hesitated, then took off out of the dining hall after Smurf, yelling for her. She didn't stop and wait for him, but she didn't speed up either, and he caught up and put a hand on her shoulder. She shook it off, but stopped walking. "I'm sorry," he said quickly. "That was—it—too far. I know."

She stared at him.

"Smurf?" he said finally. "Say something." She glared at him silently. "Come on, say something. I know you're—"

"You asshole," she finally hissed, which oddly almost made him feel better. He was used to her yelling at him, and if she'd just yelled he would have been able to handle it. All the silence had made him feel really bad, somehow, and he wasn't used to that at all. He didn't like feeling guilty for being mean to Smurf. It was what they did, it wasn't supposed to be a big deal.

"I—" he started, but she interrupted him.

"My grandmother gave me that doll when I was nine," she snapped. "She taught me how to sail when I was really little and we used to go sailing together every summer. And then she got sick and—and we all knew—we knew she wasn't going to get better and—she—the last time we went out sailing together before she went into the hospital, she gave me... She gave me Daisy and she told me that if I ever missed her I would still have Daisy and it would be like sailing with her, so—she—that doll was the most important thing she ever gave me and it was the last time I saw her out of the hospital and—" she stopped abruptly. "You asshole," she repeated, and then began running off towards the girls' side of camp.

Blink didn't follow her. Instead, he stood and watched her go, and felt like an asshole.

[End Chapter Twenty]
Chapter Twenty-One: Good Horsey