Holes (Holes 1) - Page 42

“It’s not your birthday,” said Magnet, who was standing behind Squid.

“Is too,” said Zigzag. “July 8.”

Stanley was behind Magnet. He didn’t know what day of the week it was, let alone the date. It could have been July 8, but how would Zigzag know?

He tried to figure out how long he’d been at Camp Green Lake, if indeed it was July 8. “I came here on May 24,” he said aloud. “So that means I’ve been here …”

“Forty-six days,” said Zero.

Stanley was still trying to remember how many days there were in May and June. He looked at Zero. He’d learned not to doubt him when it came to math.

Forty-six days. It felt more like a thousand. He didn’t dig a hole that first day, and he hadn’t dug one yet today. That meant he’d dug forty-four holes—if it really was July 8.

“Can I have an extra carton of juice?” Zigzag asked Mr. Sir. “It’s my birthday.”

To everyone’s surprise, Mr. Sir gave it to him.

Stanley dug his shovel into the dirt. Hole number 45. “The forty-fifth hole is the hardest,” he said to himself.

But that really wasn’t true, and he knew it. He was a lot stronger than when he first arrived. His body had adjusted somewhat to the heat and harsh conditions.

Mr. Sir was no longer depriving him of water. After having to get by on less water for a week or so, Stanley now felt like he had all the water he could want.

Of course it helped that Zero dug some of his hole for him each day, but that wasn’t as great as everyone thought it was. He alwa

ys felt awkward while Zero was digging his hole, unsure of what to do with himself. Usually he stood around awhile, before sitting off by himself on the hard ground, with the sun beating down on him.

It was better than digging.

But not a lot better.

When the sun came up a couple of hours later, Stanley looked for “the thumb of God.” The mountains were little more than dark shadows on the horizon.

He thought he could make out a spot where the top of one mountain seemed to jut upward, but it didn’t seem very impressive. A short time later the mountains were no longer visible, hidden behind the glare of the sun, reflecting off the dirty air.

It was possible, he realized, that he was somewhere near where Kate Barlow had robbed his great-grandfather. If that was really her lipstick tube he’d found, then she must have lived somewhere around here.

Zero took his turn before the lunch break. Stanley climbed out of his hole, and Zero climbed down into it.

“Hey, Caveman,” said Zigzag. “You should get a whip. Then if your slave doesn’t dig fast enough, you can crack it across his back.”

“He’s not my slave,” said Stanley. “We have a deal, that’s all.”

“A good deal for you,” said Zigzag.

“It was Zero’s idea, not mine.”

“Don’t you know, Zig?” said X-Ray, coming over. “Caveman’s doing Zero a big favor. Zero likes to dig holes.”

“He sure is a nice guy to let Zero dig his hole for him,” said Squid.

“Well, what about me?” asked Armpit. “I like to dig holes, too. Can I dig for you, Caveman, after Zero’s finished?”

The other boys laughed.

“No, I want to,” said Zigzag. “It’s my birthday.”

Stanley tried his best to ignore them.

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