Chapter Twenty-Nine: Caterpillars and Butterflies

Near the end of week five of camp (with David unsure of how time had passed so quickly), was the oddest announcement he'd heard at camp. Mrs. Higgins glanced around the dining room after lunch and declared, "The meal is dismissed, but any butterflies who'd like to participate in this year's ceremony should stay behind to talk."

He blinked, and looked around his table. No one else seemed to find this announcement at all out of the ordinary, which made him wonder just what was going on. Only about two thirds of the campers began to file out, and finally, David hesitantly tapped Spot on the shoulder. "Um, what's going on?"

Spot laughed. "I forgot you were new, Mouth. You've never seen the ceremony before."

"Right. Um... Butterflies?"

"A butterfly is a camper who's been here for four years or more. Caterpillars are people in their third years. The ceremony is where a caterpillar becomes a butterfly."

"Okay, and you know you sound insane when you say that, right?" David demanded.

"Yeah." Spot shrugged like that wasn't a big deal at all.

David glanced back at the dining hall, and through the windows could see a group of campers and counselors gathered around one of the tables. "So you haven't been here for four years?"

"Nope. I'm a caterpillar."

"If you say so." He glanced back again. "So what's the ceremony?"

"Oh, I wouldn't want to ruin the surprise."

"Okay..."

Spot grinned. "Well, it's hazing. It's all good natured, but that's what it is. You'll see."

David shrugged. "I guess I will. When is this...ceremony?"

"I don't know. Sometime in the next few days, it's always a day or two after the big meeting... but they don't tell us in advance. We just wake up one morning and it's on."

"You sound like you're looking forward to this."

Spot laughed. "Well, every caterpillar does it."

David shrugged and they parted ways so he could go back to his own cabin, though, as he suspected, he was the only one there. Everyone else was a... butterfly.

No matter how well he fit in at camp, he couldn't help but think that some things were just weird.

*

David did not like mornings. When left to his own devices he had been known to sleep until noon; his parents disapproved, so it rarely happened, but his idea of a good morning was one where he didn't get out of bed. He was also a fairly heavy sleeper, now that he'd adjusted to camp life, and so when his bunk mates snuck out of the cabin early in the morning three days later, he didn't even stir.

It wasn't until the bell started ringing and the sound of screams permeated the far reaches of the camp that David sat upright in bed, confused. No one was around, not even Sneakers. But the bell just kept ringing and the screaming grew louder and closer. He slid out of bed and stared out at the window, and finally a few people appeared on the path up to the cabins and in the field in the center of camp. They were definitely the source of the screaming, and as they got closer, David slowly worked out what hey were yelling.

One voice very clearly called out, "I'm the happiest caterpillar, I'm the prettiest caterpillar!"

As the group came closer, the first people David picked out were Racetrack and Spot, and he couldn't help but stare because Spot was wearing nothing but his swimming trunks and was covered in mud from head to toe, and most of the mud was covered in sand. There were strands of seaweed draped over his shoulders and in his hair, and David could barely make out his face through the mud.

"David!" Racetrack called, waving.

David waved back hesitantly. Behind Spot and Race were the rest of his bunk, and with them most of the campers who lived in Ferguson, all covered in mud and sand and seaweed.

Race and Spot hurried up to him and they met on the porch. "This is the... ceremony?" David asked.

"Isn't it great?" Race answered, and pinched Spot's cheek. "Tell Dave how much fun you've been having."

"Lots of fun."

"Aren't you happy?"

Spot glared at Racetrack for just a second before announcing, "I'm the happiest caterpillar!"

Racetrack was clearly too amused by this, though David was mostly just confused.

"Give David a big hug and tell him how much you love him," Race ordered.

Before David could object, Spot had wrapped his arms around him. "I love you, David."

"Oh, come on, say it like you mean it," Race scolded.

"I love you, David," Spot said, sounding a bit more friendly and less like he wanted to kill Racetrack.

David blinked. "I... love you too?"

"Awww," Racetrack cooed. "See, hazing brings people together. C'mon, let's go say hi to my parents." He pinched Spot's mud covered cheek again. "What are you?"

"I'm the happiest caterpillar!"

"And what am I?"

"You're my favorite butterfly."

"Woo!" Race began to jog off towards his house, and Spot rushed after him. David stared, but didn't have much time to wonder before everyone else flooded the porch and David found himself at the center of a giant, muddy group hug, being told how much everyone loved him, on orders from David's bunkmates.

"So you make them roll in the mud and then tell everyone they love it?" David asked, as Ian eagerly threw himself at him, dramatically hitching one leg up around David's waist.

"Yeah, pretty much," Skittery said, not sounding as bored as usual.

"And that's healthy how? Ian, seriously, get off me."

"But I love you, man!"

Blink was cackling, and David looked at him oddly. "Can you get him off me?"

"Ian, let's go find someone else for you to love."

Ian bounced away and David was stuck with a line of other boys to hug before they finally left him on his own. Skittery paused on the way off and yelled to him, "Breakfast is at 10:30 today so we have time to get them ready! Don't be late, it'll be awesome! And bring your camera!"

Then they were gone, off to harass someone else, and David looked down at himself. He wasn't as muddy or sandy as the caterpillars, but he certainly wasn't clean. He sighed. At least there was time to shower before the late breakfast.

*

None of the caterpillars were present at breakfast, when it finally got started. Due to the ceremony, there were no table assignments, so David sat down next to Jack, who had a few sand stains on his face. Race sat down on his other side.

"This is going to be amazing," Race promised.

"I still think you're all insane and possibly demented."

"He got woken up by a hug from Spot," Race told Jack.

Jack laughed. "I'm sure Spot's going to look fabulous."

"I've been planning this for months," Race said.

"Planning... what?"

"The fashion show," Race said.

"Okay, um... what?"

"You'll see," Race said. "Man, Jack, I remember when we were hazed."

Jack laughed. "Yeah, and Sneakers wonders why I've been out to get him since then."

"You were hazed by Sneakers?"

"Yeah, he was still a camper back then. He liked to think he was my older brother or something, so he claimed me for his caterpillar."

"I knew you two didn't really hate each other," David said. "You two pranking each other all summer—it's just a big game of got you last."

Jack shrugged. "What can I say, it's fun."

"What about you?" he asked Race.

"Oh, god. I was ten, they had twice as many butterflies as caterpillars—"

"You don't feel a little ridiculous saying that?"

"—and so two of my older brothers got together to haze me."

"That must have been awful."

"You can't even imagine. This whole thing is supposed to be good natured, and they... weren't." He shook his head. "It took me three hours to get the mud out of my hair."

David glanced at Jack. "And they let counselors get hazed?"

"Counselors haze counselors, campers haze campers," Jack said. "And it's all in good fun. Usually. I don't know quite how Spot's going to take it."

Race smirked. "Oh, Spot'll be fine. And he certainly will be the prettiest caterpillar."

Someone whistled sharply and Mrs. Higgins stepped up like she as going to make an announcement, but she was holding a wireless microphone. "Good morning!" she announced. "And welcome to Camp Yafeh's thirty-third annual cocoon ceremony—where our caterpillars get to finally become butterflies."

There was a round of cheers from the gathered campers.

"So without further ado, we'll have our annual fashion show and let the caterpillars serve breakfast."

There was louder cheering, and music began to echo through the speaker system—the bunny hop. The door at the far end of the dining hall opened, and the caterpillars started in, single file and moving slowly. There was no other way for them to move, as they were actually doing the bunny hop. And when David saw what they were wearing, he finally understood why it was called the fashion show.

Most of the boys from Ferguson and about half of the senior girls were in line, slowly dancing their way through the dining hall, followed by younger campers. Everyone was dressed up in some sort of costume, though they weren't all neat, and they were almost all embarrassing. The first one David really noticed was Ian, who was cheerfully leading the dance, grinning back at the cheers and catcalls they were receiving—he was dressed, or rather, undressed as Tarzan. He was slightly cleaner than he'd been earlier, though not much; now he was wearing a loincloth and mud smears, and his hair had been pulled into a number of muddy dreadlocks. David really hoped there was something underneath the loincloth, but couldn't tell.

Behind him were a few girls; David knew one of them was Mayfly (she blew Blink a kiss as she bunny hopped past them) and wasn't positive, but thought the other two were named Zodiac and Sodapop. They were all wearing costumes that seemed to be made mostly of feathers and mud.

A few of the other boys from Ferguson, Itey and Swifty, were sucking pacifiers and wearing sheets that had been tied as diapers. Some of the younger kids behind them were less dressed up and more unshowered from their morning on the beach in the mud.

Spot, however, was bringing up the back of the line.

"Oh, my god," Jack said, thwapping Race's shoulder. "You are a genius."

"Thank you, I know," Racetrack said, without modesty.

At the back of the line, Spot was the only person who wasn't at all muddy or sandy. Instead, he was pristine. He was also wearing a pink leotard and tutu.

"I told you you were the prettiest!" Race hollered at him, and Spot shot him a irritated, fake smile as they continued to dance across the dining hall.

Mrs. Higgins began announcing every costume and who had created it. Blink was responsible for Ian, David noted; and of course, Racetrack had been in charge of Spot's costume. (David felt a little guilty that every time he looked at Spot, he cracked up all over again; but on the other hand, Spot was the one who'd told him it was all in good fun.)

Finally they had hopped all the way into the kitchen, and a few minutes later emerged with the meal. Spot set the bread basket down on the table and looked over at Racetrack. "You do realize this is war," he said.

"Bring it on," Racetrack answered.

David leaned over to Racetrack as Spot walked away. "What kind of war is he talking about?" he asked.

Race grinned. "Prank war," he said. "Beginning tonight, I'll bet."

"Beginning tonight? Not beginning with the first prank?"

"The whole camp has a prank war," Jack explained. "Counselors are only allowed to prank other counselors, but this way the camp can keep it under control."

"And they get to decide when it starts," Racetrack said, and looked at Jack. "Which is...?"

"I'm not telling," Jack said. "You mom said specifically not to."

"She did?"

"Well, she told me not to, since she new you'd ask. And you want to be treated like a camper, so..."

Race nodded, and seemed satisfied. "Don't worry," he said to Dave. "I've got all sorts of pranks ready to go."

"You know, somehow that's not exactly comforting," David said, as Spot came back with the rest of their breakfast.

*

David found himself on edge for the rest of the day; they settled into their usual after-lunch scheduled in the afternoon, but the morning had been too strange. Thankfully, Spot changed out of his tutu, and the rest of the caterpillars—now full fledged butterflies—were allowed to shower and change as well. But still, the oddness of the morning left him kind of distracted until he got back to the cabin before dinner.

At which point, things got odd again.

He waited for the five thirty bell to ring, and it didn't; he waited for the five forty-five bell and that didn't ring either.

"This must be it," Racetrack said, as Sneakers walked into he bunk, looking smug. "Dare I ask?" Race asked.

"Jack's kind of brilliant when he's on your side," he answered.

"Where'd you hide it?"

"Hide what?" David asked cautiously.

Racetrack raised an eyebrow, and Sneakers grinned, and a loud horn blared from outside. David jumped a little and looked out the window, where Mr. Higgins was driving a mini-van down the camp path, one hand perpetually on the horn.

"Why is he doing that?" David asked.

"To let us know it's dinner time," Sneakers answered.

"And the bell is...?" David asked.

Sneakers raised an eyebrow. "Well, that's the question."

"Why is everything around here so weird today?" David demanded.

"It was hazing day." Racetrack shrugged. "And I guess the counselors didn't want to wait to get the prank war started—the traditional first prank is that they get together to steal the bell. Then everything is fair game."

"You guys stole the bell?" David asked.

Sneakers nodded. "Jack figured out where to put it. I think he's been planning it for a couple years now. C'mon, let's go to dinner."

Race glanced out the window and saw Spot sitting on the porch, looking bored. "It's on, Higgins," he said, standing as the boys filed out of the cabin.

"Believe me, I know." Racetrack smirked. "if you're waiting for us to leave, by all means." He gestured back at the cabin. "It's all yours."

"You'd like to think I'm doing something, wouldn't you?"

"I'm pretty sure you are. You're not very good at mind games."

"Ha!" Spot snorted. "You'd like to think that."

Racetrack rolled his eyes. "If I tell you I'm nervous I'll come back and you'll have moved the cabin or something, will you stop trying to be menacing? You're too skinny to be scary."

Spot glowered as they walked towards the dining hall. Racetrack didn't look at all nervous about whatever Spot might have up his sleeve, but David couldn't help but be a little jumpy. With the exception of Jack's prank against Sneakers, he'd hoped to not be involved in any pranks over the summer. He knew he was too much of a goody two shoes for that.

So when they made their way into the meal, he wasn't really very comfortable with it when Racetrack told him to save as many ketchup packets as he could.

*

When they got back to the cabin, they discovered saran wrap carefully placed over the doors—and toilet seats. Racetrack shook his head. "Typical."

"How'd he do it, Race?" Mush asked. "We all saw Spot, he walked with us to dinner."

Racetrack shrugged, and it was David who finally said, "He was a decoy. One or two other guys from his bunk could have been waiting."

Race nodded. "Don't worry, we'll get them back. Not that they accomplished anything," he gestured at the pile of saran wrap they'd taken down, "but I have two plans. That decoy thing is good, since we'll need someone to sneak in to their bunk when everyone's gone, during activities tomorrow."

"Spot's usually at archery in the second hour," Sneakers said. "I can keep him there for a few extra minutes."

"I thought counselors could only prank counselors?" David asked.

"What? Maverick's a counselor, isn't he?"

There was a knock on the cabin door, and Denton pushed it open. "Rick?" he asked.

"Yo," Sneakers said, and David was a little bit surprised to remember that Sneakers had a real name. "What's going on?"

Denton frowned. "How did you get the bell out to the dock?" He frowned. "And how did you do it without us noticing?"

Sneakers grinned impishly. "Come on, you know I'm not telling that."

Denton considered, and nodded. "That's what Jack said you'd say. Of course, he said that was because you didn't know..."

"He said what?" Sneakers demanded. "Hey, I know!" He paused. "Why did you ask him first anyway?"

"Well, you know." Denton shrugged. "I figured I'd go right to the source. Goodnight, then."

"Right to the source?" Sneakers called after him. "I could have thought of it!"

"I think," Racetrack said, as Sneakers scowled, "that maybe Jack got you last."

Sneakers glared. "He's a counselor now," he finally said. "I don't have to go easy on him anymore."

"Anymore? I can see how seriously you take the rule about counselors only pranking counselors," David noted.

"Please, Jack wasn't a camper, he was... Jack." Sneakers shrugged.

"Now," Racetrack, gathering everyone's attention. "Did you all gather ketchup like I told you to?"

*

"I don't think I'd better participate in the prank war," Smurf sighed, shifting around the junk on her bed so she could lie down.

"Are you serious? You have to," Hotshot said. "We all have to, it's tradition."

"You probably shouldn't, either," Smurf pointed out. "If we get in trouble again, Mrs. Higgins will kill us. And if I get sent home early, my parents would kill me. Besides, I want to come back as a counselor, so I can't screw up again."

Hotshot groaned. "You're probably right. But it's tradition. They don't care if we pull pranks during prank week!"

"I think prank week is pretty stupid anyway," said one of the girls who'd come in for the second session, Slant. "I mean, we're friends with most of the people in the other bunk. This is just some stupid ritual, why should we be pranking our friends?"

"It's fun," Hotshot said.

"It's stupid, and I'm not going to participate," Slant answered.

"I can't," Smurf said.

Arrow looked a little surprised and added, "If Smurf is being mature enough to realize she shouldn't, I won't either."

Arrow kicked Trixie, who added, "Ditto."

Hotshot made a noise of disgust and turned to look at the other three bunk members, Swinger, Mondie an Mayfly.

"I ain't coming on that tab," Swinger said, and Hotshot ignored her because she had no idea what it meant.

Mayfly shrugged, and Mondie said, "I kind of think Slant is right... I mean, why prank our friends, when there are so many better targets around?"

"Like who?" Hotshot asked suspiciously.

"Isn't it obvious?" she answered. "The boys."

Trixie snorted. "You just want an excuse to break into their cabin and go through Mush's things."

"Like you should talk," Mondie answered icily, and Trixie glared at her.

"Down girls, let's keep the estrogen freak out levels to a minimum," Arrow interrupted, cutting off the brewing fight. It wasn't the first time she'd had to come between them; her unofficial job was keeping peace in the bunk, and Mondie was almost as insane about her crush on Mush as Trixie was.

"Well, he asked me to the dance last session," Trixie said haughtily.

"Because I wasn't here," Mondie shot back. "He hasn't even looked at you since I've been around."

"Only that you've seen, and that's not much, since he's been hiding from you!"

"To be fair," Mayfly cut in, "he's been hiding from you, too." Both girls glared at her. "What?" she asked innocently. "I'm the only sane girl in the whole theater, he talks to me."

"Yeah, and let's ask Blink just how sane you are," Trixie answered.

"Like Blink has any idea what sane is," Smurf mumbled.

Mayfly rolled her eyes. "Just because you don't appreciate him, Smurf, doesn't mean we all have terrible taste."

"Taste?" Smurf scoffed. "You call having a crush on that... one eyed, macho, swaggering jackass taste?"

Arrow shot a look at Trixie, who raised her eyebrows.

"Why do you even care?" Mayfly asked. "It's not like you like him."

"Of course I don't like him, he's disgusting."

"So why do you even care if I like him?"

"I don't care," Smurf snapped. "I just don't get how anyone could like him. Ever. Ew." She looked over at Hotshot. "I'd be in if we're pranking the boys. I mean, how mad could Mrs. Higgins get?"

Trixie nodded, and so did Mondie and Mayfly. "That's a blip," Swinger agreed. Arrow sighed and nodded, and they all looked at Slant.

"I guess," she said, "if we can talk the other girls into it, I could help out. A little."

"Great," Hotshot said. "Let's get busy planning, then."

*

It was Blink who ended up agreeing to venture into Ferguson the next morning. It made the most sense: David and Mush couldn't, because Maverick would have noticed them missing in the theater; Racetrack couldn't because he was too obvious (he'd agreed to go to archery to keep Spot from getting suspicious); Snitch couldn't because tennis was too close to archery, and Spot might see him; and Skittery had his riding lesson that hour. Which meant it was up to Blink, who was thrilled.

He spent the first hour swimming, and then went up to the cabin as though he just wanted to dry off and change—but after changing, he picked up the bag full of ketchup packets and snuck over to Ferguson. He ducked below the table so no one could walk by and see him in the cabin, and crouched there to open the ketchup packets.

There were footsteps outside on the porch, and he froze. Obviously if he got caught, there were no real consequences—it was the principle of the thing. It would leave Ferguson with the lead in the prank war, and be an embarrassing failure.

The door opened, and someone chucked a towel and a pair of flip flops inside, then the door shut again and the footsteps retreated. Blink let out a deep breath and waited a minute before going back to work. When all the packets were open, he waddled over towards Spot's bunk, still trying to keep his head down.

He pulled up the sheet, deposited a few ketchup packets, and pulled the sheet back into place. He moved on to the next bunk, and then the next; when he was finished, every bed except Maverick's was set up. He turned and smugly started towards his own cabin, and not a moment too soon.

As he glanced out the window, two of the boys from Ferguson—both new to the second session, Teach and Tag—were in sight on the path. He watched as they stepped onto the Pentland porch, and he opened the door and met them.

"Hey, guys, whatcha up to?"

"Uh..." Tag stared over at Teach.

"We were just looking... for... Racetrack," Teach said hesitantly.

"I hear he's over at archery, let's go meet him." Blink slung his arms around their shoulders and steered them back towards camp. He couldn't wait to see what excuse they'd give Racetrack for sneaking into their bunk.

[End Chapter Twenty-Nine]
Chapter Thirty: Paranoia