They ate four onions apiece and drank about half a jar of water. Stanley stood up and looked around. Everything looked the same in all directions.
“When I left camp, I was heading straight toward Big Thumb,” he said. “I saw the boat off to the right. So that means we have to turn a little to the left.”
Zero was lost in thought. “What? Okay,” he said.
They headed out. It was Stanley’s turn to carry the sack.
“Some kids had a birthday party,” Zero said. “I guess it was about two weeks after my mother left. There was a picnic table next to the playscape and balloons were tied to it. The kids looked to be the same age as me. One girl said hi to me and asked me if I wanted to play. I wanted to, but I didn’t. I knew I didn’t belong at the party, even though it wasn’t their playscape. There was this one mother who kept staring at me like I was some kind of monster. Then later a boy asked me if I wanted a piece of cake, but then that same mother told me, ‘Go away!’ and she told all the kids to stay away from me, so I never got the piece of cake. I ran away so fast, I forgot Jaffy.”
“Did you ever find him—it?”
For a moment, Zero didn’t answer. Then he said, “He wasn’t real.”
Stanley thought again about his own parents, how awful it would be for them to never know if he was dead or alive. He realized that was how Zero must have felt, not knowing what happened to his own mother. He wondered why Zero never mentioned his father.
“Hold on,” Zero said, stopping abruptly. “We’re going the wrong way.”
“No, this is right,” said Stanley.
“You were heading toward Big Thumb when you saw the boat off to your right,” said Zero. “That means we should have turned right when we left the boat.”
“You sure?”
Zero drew a diagram in the dirt.
Stanley still wasn’t sure.
“We need to go this way,” Zero said, first drawing a line on the map and then heading tha
t way himself.
Stanley followed. It didn’t feel right to him, but Zero seemed sure.
Sometime in the middle of the afternoon, a cloud drifted across the sky and blocked out the sun. It was a welcome relief. Once again, Stanley felt that destiny was on his side.
Zero stopped and held out his arm to stop Stanley, too.
“Listen,” Zero whispered.
Stanley didn’t hear anything.
They continued walking very quietly and Stanley began to make out the faint sounds of Camp Green Lake. They were still too far away to see the camp, but he could hear a blend of indistinct voices. As they got closer he occasionally could hear Mr. Sir’s distinctive bark.
They walked slowly and quietly, aware that sounds travel in both directions.
They approached a cluster of holes. “Let’s wait here, until they go in,” said Zero.
Stanley nodded. He checked to make sure there was nothing living in it, then climbed down into a hole. Zero climbed into the one next to him.
Despite having gone the wrong way for a while, it hadn’t taken them nearly as long as Stanley had expected. Now, they just had to wait.
The sun cut through the cloud, and Stanley felt its rays beating down on him. But soon more clouds filled the sky, shading Stanley and his hole.
He waited until he was certain the last of the campers had finished for the day.
Then he waited a little longer.
As quietly as possible, he and Zero climbed up out of their holes and crept toward camp. Stanley held the sack in front of him, cradled in his arms, instead of over his shoulder, to keep the jars from clanking against each other. A wave of terror rushed over him when he saw the compound—the tents, the Wreck Room, the Warden’s cabin under the two oak trees. The fear made him dizzy. He took a breath, summoned his courage, and continued.