Stanley Yelnats' Survival Guide to Camp Greenlake, Page 2

  The claws: Their claws look like tiny crab claws. Getting pinched by a scorpion claw is no worse than, say, getting pinched by someone at school because you didn’t wear green on St. Patrick’s Day, except when you get pinched by someone at school, you don’t expect him to suddenly swing his butt around and inject you with poison.

  The tail: The tail is the most dangerous part of the scorpion. It is divided into six segments, with a stinger at the very tip. You might think you’re safe if you stay in front of a scorpion, but before you know it, it can whip its tail around to the front. This rapid movement is possible because it has no face to get in the way. When picking up a scorpion, you should grab it by its tail, holding on to the segment right next to the stinger.

  What to do if you are stung by a scorpion: Usually the worst thing about a scorpion sting is just how bad it hurts. The pain is excruciating. It feels like your skin is being ripped off your bones. The pain will slowly spread to your joints and muscles. That was how Armpit got his name. He got stung on the arm and later went on and on about how much his armpit hurt.

  Sometimes a scorpion sting can result in sickness and a high fever. Barf Bag lost his breakfast after he got bitten on the finger, but that might have had more to do with the breakfast than with the scorpion.

  There was a kid in E tent who lost all feeling in his face for three hours after getting stung on the neck. He had trouble breathing. That was the only time anyone came close to dying at Camp Green Lake from a scorpion sting.

  The best thing you can do is wash the area with soap and water so it doesn’t get infected and wait for the pain to go away. You will have a very red, and very sore, welt for a week or two.

  Survival Test Two

  It is an oppressively hot day. (What else is new?) You’ve been digging your hole for several hours. You reach down and pick up your canteen, then notice a dark spot on the ground. To your horror, you realize there’s a tiny hole in the bottom of your canteen. Only half your water is left. You should:

  A: Get mad and smash your canteen with your shovel, causing more and bigger leaks.

  B: Quickly guzzle the remaining water in your canteen.

  C: Be thankful for what you have. Your canteen is not half empty. It is half full.

  D: Turn your canteen upside down, so that the small hole is on top. Whenever you want a drink, you won’t unscrew the lid, but simply drink out of the hole. The only time you will ever unscrew the lid is when filling the canteen, during which time you will keep your finger over the hole.

  E: Ask your counselor for a new canteen.

  answer to test two

  E is incorrect. If you ask your counselor for a new canteen, he will tell you it’s just a small leak. Be thankful for what you have. Your canteen is not half empty. It is half full. He will suggest that you turn your canteen upside down, so that you keep the leak on top.

  D is incorrect. Dirt will get into your canteen, and some water will leak out despite your best efforts. You don’t want to spend the next eighteen months drinking dirty water out of a leaky canteen.

  C is incorrect. While it is important to have a positive attitude, you also need water.

  The correct answer is B, then A. First guzzle the remaining water, then smash up your canteen. The Warden knows you cannot dig your holes without water. You will be given a new canteen.

  6

  Zigzag’s Tv Guide

  Each camper is given a crate for keeping personal items in: toothbrush, toothpaste, towels, etc. Whatever you put in there, everybody will know what you have. The crates are open. There are no lids, let alone locks. But no one will touch your stuff. It’s an unwritten law, like no throwing dirt in someone else’s hole.

  Each guy usually has something else in his crate, too, what I call a lifeline. It’s something that connects him to life back home. I kept a photograph of my parents. Armpit had a catcher’s mitt. Squid kept a rubber octopus. Don’t ask me why. You don’t ask too many questions, and you don’t ever cut someone’s lifeline.

  Zigzag’s lifeline was a TV Guide dated March 22, 1998. The torn cover showed the crew from one of the Star Trek shows. Maybe Zigzag was a Trekkie. A lot of people thought Zigzag was from outer space.

  I’d often see Zigzag lying on his cot, carefully studying the pages. He could probably tell you when any show was on that particular week and what was going to happen in it. Of course, whatever was going to happen had already happened. For most of us, the week of March 22, 1998, was history. For Zigzag, the week ran on a continuous loop.

  There was a television inside the Wreck Room, and I guess it’s still there. It doesn’t come close to working. Even if it did, I doubt there would be any reception. The Warden has a satellite dish outside her cabin, but she lives in a different reality.

  Still, every day after digging and showering, Zigzag plopped himself down on the Wreck Room floor and stared at the TV. Whatever he was watching was playing only inside his head, something from the week of March 22, 1998.

  It was an old-fashioned TV with one of those big circular knobs used for changing channels. It must have been made before cable, because as far as I could tell, there were only thirteen possible channels.

  Sometimes X-Ray would ask, “Hey, Zig. Whatcha watchin’?” and Zigzag would reply, “I Dream of Jeanie,” or “The Simpsons,” or whatever. No one laughed. No one ever pointed out that there was nothing on the screen. Let sleeping dogs lie. Don’t cut someone’s lifeline, especially someone as crazy as Zigzag.

  Then one day a guy from E tent came over and sat down next to Zigzag. His name was Easy. His real name was Eric Zornlitch. He was called Easy because of his initials.

  He was anything but easygoing. He had been sent to Camp Green Lake in the first place because a dog pooped in front of him when he was riding his skateboard. Easy beat up the dog’s owner, and then the dog.

  Easy sat down next to Zigzag and stared at the TV. When Zigzag didn’t seem to notice him, Easy laughed loudly, as if he was watching something really funny. He slapped Zigzag on the back.

  Zigzag looked a little annoyed but otherwise continued to ignore him.

  Easy elbowed Zigzag in the side and said, “That was pretty funny, huh?”

  Zigzag never laughed or showed any reaction to any show he was watching. He just stared.

  Finally, Easy reached over and changed the channel. By this time everybody in the Wreck Room was watching them watch TV. I was beginning to get worried.

  Zigzag turned the knob back. “I was here first,” he said.

  Easy looked over at his friends from E tent and smiled. “But I’ve seen this show before,” he said, and turned the knob again.

  “I haven’t,” said Zigzag. He turned it back.

  Some of the other guys in the room began to get into it. “Zigzag’s always hogging the set!” someone shouted.

  “Let someone else watch something for a change,” someone else put in.

  Other guys came in on Zigzag’s side. “Zigzag was there first. Let him finish his show!”

  Easy reached for the channel knob.

  Zigzag’s hand clamped on top of Easy’s. In a dangerously quiet voice he said, “Wait until the show’s over.”

  Zigzag did not seem especially threatening. He resembled a tall, skinny bobblehead doll. But Easy had been around long enough to know that the crazy guys were the most dangerous.

  Easy glanced back at his friends. They urged him on.

  “Change the channel.”

  “Zigzag has watched long enough.”

  “Why don’t you just wait for a commercial?” X-Ray offered. “Then Easy can see what’s happening on his channel. That all right with you, Zigzag?”

  Zigzag’s hand was still wrapped around Easy’s, on top of the knob. “Okay,” he agreed.

  “That good for you, Easy?” X-Ray asked.

  Easy looked around. For a second I thought he’d ease off, but then he said, “How the hell am I supposed to know when there’s a commercial?”

>   He tried to turn the knob. Zigzag tightened his grip.

  I could see the strain on their muscles and the tension on their faces. Easy’s eyes began to water. Suddenly, he yelped like a dog and jerked his hand away.

  “You’re whacked out!” he exclaimed. “Look what he did to my hand!”

  The channel knob was imprinted on Easy’s palm. Cuts in his skin were shaped like little numbers.

  Later, when a counselor asked Easy how he hurt his hand, he said, “I slammed the tent door on it.”

  That is what you should say whenever you get hurt in a fight, or even if someone hurts you accidentally. You never tattle.

  We were always getting our hands or noses bashed in by those damn tent doors. It doesn’t matter that there are no doors on the tents, just canvas flaps.

  Later that night Zigzag lay on his cot, reading his TV Guide. He let out a deep sigh and said, “Man, too bad we don’t get cable.”

  7

  Tarantulas (and Other Spiders)

  This is what Mr. Sir says about tarantulas: “Their bark is worse than their bite.” I think what Mr. Sir means is that tarantulas are a lot more scary-looking than they are dangerous. But Zigzag said he heard one bark.

  If you see a tarantula crawling up your shirt, just brush it off. If it bites you, just wash the area with soap and water. It might be sore and red for a few days, but that’s about it.

  The general rule at Camp Green Lake is the bigger the spider, the less deadly the venom. Tarantulas are big and hairy, about the size of a fist. They don’t have to be deadly because they scare everyone away. The smaller spiders need toxic venom to protect themselves. The most dangerous spiders at Camp Green Lake are the ones that are so small you can hardly see them.

  Habitat: I don’t know where tarantulas live. I just saw them crawling around, pretty much wherever they wanted. Smaller spiders make their homes under rocks and in the cracks in the concrete of the shower stalls.

  Never pick up a rock with your bare hands. Use your shovel. X-Ray’s eyesight wasn’t very good, so before he would turn on the shower, he used to stomp around the area wearing just his shoes. It was kind of funny to watch, but we never laughed at X-Ray.

  Survival Test Three

  You are filling your canteen at the spigot outside the shower wall. Someone says, “Hurry up, Snotface!” and shoves you from behind. The next morning when you wake up, the guy on the cot next to you tells you that you have a black eye. So how did you get the black eye?

  A: A spider, living in the cracks by the spigot, bit you just below the eye.

  B: When you were pushed, your face smashed against the water spigot.

  C: You got the black eye fighting the guy who pushed you.

  D: All of the above.

  E: You don’t have a black eye. It has been five months since your sheets were washed. That’s dirt, grime, and mildew on your face.

  answer to test three

  The tent door slammed in your face.

  8

  How to Dig a Hole

  At the beginning of each day, Mr. Sir will tell you where to dig. Don’t stop and ponder. Just get started. You want to get as much dug as you can before the sun rises.

  The ground is hardest near the surface. Try to find a crack in the earth and wedge the shovel blade into it. Then stomp or jump on the back of the blade, driving the shovel into the ground. I’m a pretty heavy guy, so that helped, but it’s not all about weight. Zero was the smallest guy in D tent, but he was our fastest digger.

  Once you’ve loosened the dirt, try to get into a rhythm. Dig, scoop, toss. Dig, scoop, toss. One, two, three. Let your mind wander. Think about things you like. Things you don’t like. Imagine that the dirt is Mr. Sir’s face as you jab it with your shovel.

  Your leg muscles are your strongest muscles, so use them. Don’t put too much stress on your back. Bend your legs as you dig deep, then straighten them as you raise your shovel.

  When your hole is finished, it will be five feet deep and five feet in diameter. Your shovel is your measuring stick. You must be able to lay your shovel flat across the bottom of your finished hole in any direction.

  Allow yourself enough room. Be sure to toss the dirt far away from your hole, especially when you first start digging.

  As your hole gets deeper, it will become harder to toss the dirt very far, so you will have to let it pile up near your hole. Be careful. There is nothing worse than having your dirt pile fall back into your hole. Always leave a clear space next to your hole. This will allow you to climb in and out of your hole, and to measure the depth.

  Don’t ever toss your dirt into another digger’s hole. Not by accident. Not as a joke. Never.

  The water truck comes by every two hours, so ration your water accordingly. At about ten-thirty in the morning you’ll get lunch: a sandwich, canned fruit, and a cookie. Don’t open your sandwich to see what it is. You don’t want to know. You probably wouldn’t recognize it, anyway.

  A supply truck comes to Camp Green Lake every two weeks, so if it’s the day after the truck arrives, the bread and cookie might still be fresh. But once they’re exposed to the dusty heat of the desert, they dry up pretty quickly.

  The fruit comes in a sealed container. I recommend eating it very slowly, savoring every small bite. But everyone has his own way. Zigzag liked to eat whole slices of peaches. “I like the wet, slippery feeling as they slide down my throat.”

  Whatever.

  The hardest time to dig is right after lunch. Your muscles will ache, and your hands will be blistered. The last thing you’ll want to do is climb back down into your hole and dig some more. You must. The hottest part of the day in Texas is between two and six o’clock. Just get off your dirt pile and back into rhythm. One, two, three. Dig, scoop, toss.

  The first night, after digging your first hole, you’ll be amazed how sore you are. It’s not just your arms and legs that will hurt. My waist and groin hurt. I had swollen knees. My feet were blistered. My neck ached.

  Over time your muscles will grow stronger. Your skin will toughen. But the hardest part about digging is not physical, it’s mental.

  You just can’t let yourself think about how many holes you’re going to have to dig, day after day, week after week, in the heat and the dust, month after month. Don’t think about how many times you’re going to have to stick your shovel in the earth and scoop out another shovelful of dirt.

  You’ll go crazy. Why do you think Barf Bag stepped on a rattlesnake? It wasn’t an accident. He took off one shoe and one sock first.

  I’m sorry if this section is getting a little long and boring. The thing is, I know a lot about digging holes. But pay attention because now I’m going to give you my best advice, although you might find it hard to believe.

  Try to dig a perfect hole.

  I know that sounds really weird. Who cares if your hole is perfect? But if you’re going to be out there six hours a day, you have to give yourself a purpose. You can either groan about how stupid it is to dig a hole, or you can tell yourself you’re doing something important. You’re digging the best hole anyone’s ever dug.

  It also helps physically. If you can make a perfect circle, exactly five feet in diameter and five feet deep, with sides that are perpendicular to the ground, you will have dug the absolute minimum amount of dirt required. No one’s ever done that, not even Zero, but he’s come close.

  When you’re done, stand over your hole. Take time to admire it, no matter how tired and sore you feel. You worked hard digging that hole, and you should take pride in a job well done.

  And then spit in it. Because, after all, it’s just a stupid hole, and you are better than that.

  9

  The Road to Freedom

  It took me over eight hours to get to Camp Green Lake in the Texas Youth Authority bus. The last three hours of the trip were on the same long, straight road. The road was paved at first, but the pavement seemed to crumble away until it was nothing but a dusty dirt road. Outsi
de the dirty windows there was nothing but miles and miles of brush and weeds. Then, as we got closer to Camp Green Lake, all I saw were holes and dirt piles.

  This is the only road in and out of Camp Green Lake. Every two weeks a supply truck rumbles into the camp compound, bringing everything from five-gallon cans of peas to a new jigsaw puzzle for the Warden.

  Most of the time, you forget the road is even there. Every once in a while, when you’re out there digging, you’ll notice the road cutting right through the sea of holes. Something about it seems unreal. If you stare at it long enough, it seems to rise up and float just above the holes.

  Somewhere at the other end are all the things that aren’t at Camp Green Lake: beds with clean sheets; toilets that flush; food that doesn’t come from a can. Girls. Girls with clean hair. Girls in bikinis. Girls on TV. Girls talking together as they walk down the school hallway. Girls concentrating in algebra class, trying so hard to get a good grade, with no idea of how they made me feel inside.

  Don’t get me wrong. I’m not some kind of sex maniac or anything. Back at school, I was fat and unpopular. Girls ignored me. But still, after working, sleeping, and eating with a group of sweaty guys in orange suits day in and day out, I couldn’t help thinking about all the girls at the other end of that road. The way they walked. The way they talked. Even the way they seemed to look right through me as if I was invisible.

  And if that was how I felt, it was probably ten times worse for the other guys who had girlfriends back home. Or, if not girlfriends, at least girls who would talk to them.

  But you can’t think about what’s at the other end of the road. The road is too long.

  We were out there one day, digging not too far from the road. Magnet just kept stopping and staring. It was like he was hypnotized. I was usually the slowest digger, but when the lunch break came, my hole was a foot deeper than Magnet’s.

  “Man, you got to snap out of it,” X-Ray warned him. “You’ll be out here all day.”

  “I’m leaving this place,” Magnet declared.

  “There’s only one way out of here,” X-Ray said.